#exaggerating in the most stupid way possible i promise i do not mean that. but when the rest of my guys are like late teens to mid twenties

[bonestrouslingbones]

there is genuinely no reason for me to be suddenly thinking about rogue and smiley so much lately since i literally do not have anything Coming Soon for them but . i have just realized . that they would both be in or very near their thirties . good LORD

[writing-abt-headspaces]

Mishap At The Moth’s Studio (Part 4)

A/N: Okay, so Vox is actually my favorite of the Vees. (A.k.a The one I pay attention to the most.) So, be prepared for him to be the softest one of the three here.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Finally, they made it to the makeshift nursery. The moth slowly made his way to the adult-sized crib, while rocking the little spider in his arms to keep him asleep.

“Rock a bye Angel, snoring about. Please stay asleep, don’t freak the fuck out…” Valentino aggressively sang, as he cradled the spider. Angel kept stirring awake, whenever he heard the slightest noise of the moth’s squeaking.

“Tino, stop making that noise!” Velvette quietly hissed at the moth demon.

“Fuck off! It’s not something I can control!” Valentino hissed back, finally making it to the crib.

Angel was gently placed inside the crib, still sleeping peacefully to his heart’s content, sucking on his pacifier, all curled up into himself.

Vox, who eventually recovered from his hysteric episode, reached into the crib and pulled up the blanket near Angel’s feet to cover the rest of him. He sighed, looking down at the spider with a mix of frustration and…. mild affection. Angel kind of looked like an actual child like this….

He shakes the feelings away, “Alright, he's settled for now."

Velvette sighed, leaning against the crib. "So, what do we do when he wakes up?"

Vox simply shrugged, “We’ll crossed the bridge when we get there…”

Valentino groaned, rubbing his temples. "Babysitting a regressed spider demon was not on my to do list today…."

Vox shot him a sharp look. “Well, maybe if you didn’t push him so hard, we wouldn’t be in this mess. He’s a scared toddler now, because of you. Just deal with it."

If anyone noticed Vox’s tone change to sounding a bit more protective, they didn’t point it out.

It’s no surprise to anyone in this building, that Vox was never really a fan of Angel Dust. Considering this stupid fucking spider was the number one reason Valentino is always bitching about and throwing his stupid temper tantrums, adding more work to the TV demon’s already busy everyday life, but damn… if he didn’t secretly have a soft spot for kids…

He had a long list of sins that condemned him to hell, longer than the combined height of himself and his business partners stacked up on top of each other, but harming children in any way wasn’t one of them.

During his days hosting the news, topside, he’d dox people, spill information or twist the truth, fabricate or exaggerate the appearance of a crime scene, ruin reputations of celebrities and political figures, for the sake of good television (and good pay. I mean, he had to make a living after all). But, if there’s one thing he respected, it would be the choices of the children involved in crimes he had to make reports on.

He offers to play a small game with them, in exchange for some information on the crime they witnessed or were the victims in, and even promises to blur their faces and leave them unnamed. And he was a man of his word; kept his end of the bargain all the time.

Vox was no saint, he wasn’t someone worthy of heaven, and he was even proud of that fact. But, he has his soft spots. And that would be child innocence.

He once again shakes the thoughts away and coughs. “I’ll continue the rest of my work here…”

Clasping his hands behind his back, Vox walked to the other side of the room as he speaks, “Val, Velvette, you can leave and tend to your own work, but make sure to come here as soon as possible whenever I call for your assistance.”

He reaches for the laptop left on the table next to the door, which he had asked Papermint to leave for him, and turned it on, aleady opening files and typing away.

He suddenly felt eyes on him, and turned back to the other two. “What?”

Velvette’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms, “Okay. What the fuck is up with you?”

Valentino leaned against the crib, folding his upper set of arms and placing one of his power hands on his hip, as he glanced between Vox and Velvette, intrigued. Velvette's directness often amused him, especially when directed at Vox, who could sometimes be too composed for his own good.

Vox paused momentarily, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as he assessed Velvette’s judging gaze. "What do you mean?" he replied, maintaining his cool demeanor.

"You’re being weird.” Velvette said, uncrossing her arms to gesture vaguely at Vox. "First, you fussed over Angel like an insomniac nanny, on our way here—“

“Because I fucking dropped him.” Vox cut her off. “What was I supposed to do? Not worry about what would happen if we permanently damaged his brain? He could stay stuck like this you know?”

Velvette chose to ignore that horrifying possibility and continued, “Then you snapped at Tino like you're his mother."

Valentino snickered under his breath. The other two assumed, he was trying to hold in a ‘I can call you ‘mommy’ if you want?’ joke.

Vox's brow furrowed slightly, betraying a hint of irritation. "I'm merely ensuring we handle this situation with the necessary care. This isn't just about managing Angel; it's about safeguarding our operations here at the V Tower."

Velvette raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Suure. But, how do you explain this… protective attitude over itsy bitsy.”

Vox shot her a stern look, his jaw tightening briefly before he composed himself again. "Like I said, this isn’t about Angel." he stated firmly. "It's about maintaining stability and avoiding unnecessary attention. The last thing we need is a scandal."

Velvette sighed, recognizing that there WAS validity in Vox's concern. "Fair enough," she admitted, relaxing her stance.

Vox sighed quietly, turning back to his laptop. "Good. Now, let me focus on my work.”

Valentino shrugged, straightening up from the crib’s side. "I'm going back to my studio to check what scenes I can still get done without Angel."

Velvette followed behind Valentino, “And I’m going back to working on my designs.”

Vox nodded, acknowledging their leave. "Good. We'll reconvene if anything changes."

The three of them dispersed to their respective duties, leaving Angel sleeping peacefully in his crib, and Vox working on the other side of the room.

.•.•.

Vox was fully immersed in his work, his eyes didn’t leave the screen despite feeling tired. Until small coughing and gurgling noises, pulled him out of his focus.

He turned around and sees Angel, pushing himself up to bend over the crib, spitting out his pacifier and throwing up a bit of the milk he drank on the floor.

“Tummy hurt…” Angel quietly muttered, sounding like he was trying to hold in tears. He was definitely still in his headspace.

Vox immediately went to Angel, grabbing a couple of rags from the supplies drawers, and wiping down the mess on the floor before using another rag to wipe off the mess on the spider’s face.

“The fuck happened to you? I’m sure that milk was—Oh.” His confusion turned to realization. “I forgot to burp you before letting you sleep, didn’t I?”

The little spider looked at the TV demon timidly, hesitantly holding his hands up and making grabby motions.

Vox sighed, “My bad, kiddo. Should’ve remembered to do that after the bottle.”

He hooked his hands under Angel’s underarms, and used all his strength to pull him up. “Up you go.”

Ignoring the burn of humiliation he was feeling, he sat himself down on the nearest chair, and adjusted Angel’s position on his lap.

“Oh my fucking god, what the fuck am I doing…?” Vox muttered under his breath as he landed gentle pats on the spider’s back. Angel rested his head on Vox’s shoulder, hugging him tightly.

The position was a bit awkward, due to the fact that Angel and Vox were almost the same height, but the TV demon tried to push that aside, as he tried getting Angel to burp.

As Vox gently patted Angel's back, he felt discomfort. This wasn't the usual stuff on his to do list—caring for someone so fragile and innocent. Yet here he was, comforting the regressed pornstar who had found himself in an unexpected state of vulnerability.

Angel squirmed slightly, his little hands grasping at Vox's shirt as he burped softly, some milk residue bubbling up from his tiny mouth. The spider demon let out a small hiccup, then settled against Vox's shoulder, his eyes half-closed with fatigue.

Vox sighed inwardly, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts.

"You alright there, kid?" Vox murmured, trying to sound reassuring despite his own uncertainty. He continued to pat Angel's back gently, feeling the spider demon's tension slowly easing.

Angel nodded weakly, mumbling something incoherent as he clung to Vox's shirt, and burped a second time.

“Ready to go back to sleep?” Vox asked the little spider.

Suddenly getting a second wind, Angel’s eyes shot open and he wiggled out of Vox’s lap.

“No! Not sleepy anymore!” Angel said, crawling around the floor, looking for something to do.

Vox watched with exasperation as Angel, now energized, crawled around the nursery floor in search of something to occupy his newfound wakefulness.

“Alright then, what do you want to do?" Vox asked, leaning back in his chair with a resigned sigh. He scanned the room, taking in the various toys and books that he discreetly ordered, hoping any of these would catch the spider demon's interest. There was even a playpen, in the corner of the room, big enough for the spider to move around in.

Angel, however, seemed more intent on exploring. He crawled around, back and forth until he grew tired and went back to Vox.

Angel patted Vox’s knee to get his attention. “Bored…” He says.

Vox was about to tell Angel to try out the coloring books on the shelf, so he can get back to work. But, an idea sparked in his mind.

He looked down at Angel, and once more, put on his best showman face. “Wanna play a game with me?”

Angel’s eyes lit up, and he rapidly nodded his head. “Yeah!”

Vox smiled at him, “Okay. The game is called knock knock—“

“Who’sh there?” Angel answered almost immediately.

Vox actually snorted at that, but shook his head. “No… Not a knock knock joke. It’s called Knock-Knock-Freeze.” He says as he recalled one of the few games he made up to entertain the children he had to question.

This one was his favorite to use, since it always made the kids feel like it was a fair deal; whoever wins, will decide if they stay quiet or tell the truth. Being bigger and faster, Vox of course, always one. But, he’d let them have fun by prolonging the chase.

Vox starts explaining as he points at the wall, “I’ll stand over there and face the wall, away from you, and I’ll knock on it three times. Then after knocking three times, I’ll turn around to see if you’re moving. While you, have to move forward everytime I’m looking away and freeze everytime I turn to look at you, until your close enough to tag me.”

“And then…?” Angel asks, tilting his head.

“When you tag me, I have to chase you, and if I catch you, I win. And if I win, you have to answer some questions I want to ask you, okay? Promise?” Vox instructed.

“O’tay! I pwomise!” Angel said, excitedly.

Vox nodded his head, and walked towards the wall, keeping his back towards Angel.

He brought he knuckles towards the walls, and knocked. “One. Two. Three. —Freeze!” He quickly turned around to look at the little spider.

Angel had been mid-crawl, freezing instantly when Vox turned around. He stayed perfectly still, his wide eyes locked on Vox, who took a moment to scan him for any movement.

“Good job,” Vox said with a smirk, then turned back to the wall to knock again. “One. Two. Three. —Freeze!”

This time, Angel managed to move a bit closer before stopping abruptly when Vox spun around again. The TV demon kept a keen eye out for any slight movements but found none.

Angel giggled, enjoying the game immensely. Vox continued the cycle of knocking and turning, and Angel moved closer with each round, his excitement growing. On the final turn, Angel was close enough to tag Vox’s leg, but he waited for the perfect moment.

Vox, who knew Angel was just right behind him, purposely knocked much slower this time. “One… Two… Three…” and then he slowly turned his head.

Before he could even say “freeze,” Angel lunged forward, tagging him with a triumphant squeal.

“Got you!” Angel shouted, his body vibrating with excitement.

“Aren’t you good at this?” Vox grinned, “Alright, now it’s my turn to catch you.”

Angel’s eyes widened in playful fear, and he scampered off, his movements quick and uncoordinated. Vox gave chase, deliberately moving slower to prolong the game. The room echoed with Angel’s delighted laughter as he dodged and weaved around furniture.

Finally, Vox lunged, carefully wrapping his arms around the little spider and pulling him into a gentle embrace. “Caught you!” he announced, laughing along with Angel.

Angel panted, still giggling. “O’tay! TV man wins!”

Vox sat back down, settling Angel in his lap. “Now for my questions,” he said, his tone softening. “Can you tell me the name of your caregiver?”

Angel’s smile went away as soon as he heard that. He looked away and stayed quiet.

“Hey, kid. You promised to answer me.” Vox pushed, but didn’t raise his voice.

“Don’ ‘ave one…” Angel answered quietly.

“What?” Vox blinked in confusion.

“I don’ ‘ave anyone to take care of me…” Angel answered more clearly.

“You mean… no one at the hotel takes care of you, when you’re like this?” Vox asked further.

“Uh-uh…” Angel shook his head. “Didn’ wanna tell em. I’ll be prob’em to them… I go small by myself. But Nuggy’s there…!”

Ah. So, he copes by himself.

It seems that the happy go lucky princess of hell, rubbed off on Angel; he doesn’t want to bother anyone with his own issues. Or was he always this reserved when it came to his personal problems? Vox doesn’t really know.

It’s a complete head scratcher how he hasn’t broken down into his littlespace in public, much sooner. How does a little take care of themself, with only a pet to keep watch of them?

They should have a caregiver assigned to them. Or a babysitter, at least.

“Well, you’re gonna need someone to take care of you, kid. You can’t always be by yourself. You don’t want this to happen again in front of more people now, do you?” Vox asked, trying to convince Angel.

“No…” Angel shook his head.

Vox gave Angel gentle pets on his head. “Good. Now… do you remember the password to your phone even when your small?”

Angel looked up at his screen innocently, “Why?”

“So, we can call up your friends back at the hotel to—“

“Nooo! No! No! No!” Angel cut him off, and started thrashing about in Vox’s lap.

Vox tightened his grip slightly to prevent Angel from falling off his lap. “Hey, calm down. What’s wrong with calling your friends?”

Angel continued to thrash, his face contorting with fear and panic. “They’ll hate me! They’ll think I’m weird! I don’ wan them to know!”

Vox sighed deeply, trying to think of a way to reassure the little spider without escalating the situation further.

He’s not one to talk about the ‘power of love or friendship’ and all that bullshit. But, he knows one thing for sure after watching that one interview with Katie Killjoy. Lucifer’s brat, is too sugar sweet for Vox to picture her making fun of Angel’s classification, let alone judge him for it.

He’s not sure about the other hotel staff, but the princess would definitely be all mother hen over the little spider. Vox wouldn’t even be surprised if her classification was a caregiver too. She could probably provide him with much better care and supplies. Fuck! Angel would be a nepo baby if Charlotte Morningstar was the one looking after him!

“Angel—“

“Can you do it? You’re really nice!” Angel pleaded with the TV demon.

“…What!?” Vox almost let go of his grip on Angel.

“Pwomise I won’ be bad whenever I’m big again! I’ll be good! Big or small.” Angel continued to beg. “I just don’ wanna be my friends prob’em!”

Vox was flabbergasted.

What the fuck was his mindset? He’d rather be taken care of by the TV demon, than the puppy dogs and sunshine loving princess of hell? All because he thinks he might burden her?

He glanced over at Valentino and Velvette, who he finally noticed were watching from the doorway.

“Val, Velvette, a little help?” Vox called out.

Velvette stepped forward, “Well, what the fuck happened here?”

“Do you want the bad news or the worse news first?” Vox asked.

Valentino walked in as well, already not liking what Vox would say. “Where’s the good news?”

“Unavailable.”

“Bad news then…” Velvette reluctantly said.

“So, bad news… Angel doesn’t have an assigned caregiver. Nor does he have anyone back at the hotel who knows about his classification. He’s been coping on his own.” Vox answered.

It wouldn’t exactly be bad news for them, if it weren’t for the fact that they’ll have to deal with Angel, if he doesn’t have any other lap they can plop him down on.

“And the worse news…?” Valentino dared ask.

Vox loosened his grip on Angel, nervously looking away from the other two. “Uh… I think he might’ve imprinted on me.”

Velvette and Valentino exchanged incredulous glances, then turned their attention back to Vox with bemused expressions.

"You're kidding, right?" Valentino's voice betrayed a mix of amusement and disbelief. "He's imprinted on you? Voxxy, I didn't think you were into that kind of thing~” He teased, earning a sharp look from Vox.

"Don’t turn this into fucking Twilight! You know very well, that’s not what I meant!" Vox retorted, his tone serious. "He's just... attached, I guess. He asked me to take care of him, said he doesn't want to be a problem for anyone else."

Velvette let out an exaggerated groan, rubbing her temples. "So, let me get this straight… the little baby bitch doesn’t have a caregiver, AND NOW he wants you, to be the one to take care of him?"

Vox nodded reluctantly. "That's about the size of it. And while I'm… kinda flattered with how attached he is, it's not practical. I’m not even classified as a caregiver. We need to find someone from the hotel who can do this."

Valentino, who had been quietly thinking, groaned. “Looks like we have to convince him…. But, we have to do it the ‘doting way’…”

He tried to hide his displeasure, as he bent down to meet Angel’s eyes. “Angelcakes… pequeño… I get that you don’t want to bother your… friends, but this isn't about being a problem. It's about making sure you're safe and cared for. The ‘TV man’ here can't do this all the time, and you need someone who can be there for you whenever you… uh… regress."

Angel pouted, looking between the three demons. "But... I don’t want to be trouble..."

Velvette knelt down to Angel's level.

Great. Time to talk ‘sappy’.

She mustered up the gentlest voice she could speak in. "Listen, Itsy Bitsy, your friends at the hotel care about you. They won’t think you're weird. In fact, I’m sure they’d want to help you. The princess, I know for sure would be ecstatic of this. Don’t you think it’d be nice for a princess to take care of you?”

Angel fidgeted, looking down at his hands. "I guess so…”

Vox, sensing a moment of vulnerability, joined in. "Well, I know so. Miss Bleeding Heart—err… Her majesty, is the kind of person who would go out of her way to make sure you're taken care of. She’s got a big heart. But you have to let her know. Keeping this to yourself isn’t going to help anyone.”

Then he added, “The three of us are busy most of the time. We only made these adjustments today, because of what happened. Of course, it doesn’t mean we won’t be watching over you from time to time—“

“Wait. What—“

“Shut up, Val.” Vox momentarily tore his gaze from the spider to shoot the moth a glare. “Unless you plan on tearing apart his contract, we really can’t avoid having to babysit again. I’m trying to negotiate here!”

He returns his gaze to Angel, “We’ll help out whenever we can, okay kid? But you need a primary caregiver who knows you and can be there when you need them."

Angel’s eyes welled up with tears, but he nodded slowly. "O’tay... I’ll try to talk to Char’ie."

Vox smiled encouragingly, pinching the spider’s cheek. “That’s the spirit. And who knows, she might even make it fun for you."

Angel sniffled, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. "O’tay... I’ll do it."

Vox felt a sense of relief wash over him. "Good. Now, Mr. Butterfly is going to get your phone and we’ll call up your friend."

Though he grumbled curses under his breath from the nickname, Valentino went to retrieve Angel’s phone anyway.

He returned, and tossed the phone to Vox without warning.

If it weren’t for the moth doing that countless of times in the past already, it would have caught Vox off guard. But the TV demon caught it, unfazed.

“Hey sport, I’m gonna need the password now.” Vox wave the phone infront of Angel.

“My cake day…” Angel answers.

“Cake day?” Vox repeated, raising a brow.

“He probably means his birthday.” Velvette said.

“Val, what’s his birthday?” Vox looked up at the moth.

Valentino’s distasteful face turned into a nervous smile. “Um…” He looked away, while messaging his chin, trying to recall the birthdate.

“Wow, Val. Fuck you.” Vox said bluntly.

The moth spread all his arms out in exasperation, “Oh what!? Like I had time to remember the bitchy twink’s birthday!?”

“Well, it’s kinda important right now!” Vox said, trying not to crush the phone in his fist.

Angel watched the exchange nervously, still clutching onto Vox's shirt. He suddenly remembered something and piped up, "Silly pranks day! That's my cake day!"

“April first.” Velvette translated, though she didn’t really need to.

Vox typed the number of the month and date on the phone, and sure enough, it unlocked. He quickly navigated through the contacts to find the princess’ number.

- (Bomb-bastic Baddie 🍒💣)

- (Tiny Psycho🪡🔪)

- (Vagina👁️❌)

- (My Hubby😻)

- (Sunshine Bitch☀️)

- (Gimp Pimp😒)

He decided not mention the contact names. Especially, “Gimp Pimp” and whoever the fuck “My Hubby” could be. The last thing Vox needed was for Valentino to become a second whiney baby to handle.

He clicked on Sunshine Bitch, knowing it was most likely the princess’ number. He hit the call button and put the phone on speaker.

The phone rang a few times before a cheerful voice answered, “Hello! This is Charlie Morningstar!”

Shit. A voice recording…

“I’m not on the phone right now. But, please leave a message after the beep, and I promise to get to you. BEEEEP!” The cheerful voice giggled at her imitation of the actual beep which followed just after.

Vox sighed and held the phone up to his face, “Princess Morningstar, good afternoon… This is Mr. Vox, speaking through Angel’s phone, I’m sure you know me. Don’t worry, Angel is safe and unharmed. But, we do need you to come over here as soon as you get this message. I won’t specify the situation, as to not worry you. Just make sure to come here soon, and we’ll explain everything.”

When he finished he sent his voice message.

“Looks like we have to wait, for her majesty to receive the message…” Vox said handing the phone to Velvette, who placed it down on the desk.

“Can I color, while waiting?” Angel asked, with sparkling eyes.

Vox shrugged, “Sure kid. But, can do it in the playpen. My legs are sore, from you sitting on me.”

He sat up from the chair, and picked Angel up and gently placed him on the floor, so the spider can crawl his way to the playpen.

As Angel crawled into the playpen, he immediately spotted a box of crayons and coloring books nearby. Without hesitation, he grabbed a few crayons and a book filled with different cartoonish hellspawn animals to color in. As he sat down on the soft foam padding and flipped through the pages, he began to hum a tune to himself, completely engrossed in his newfound activity.

Meanwhile, Vox sat back down and absentmindedly watched Angel color. Valentino stood nearby, idly tapping his nails against his arm, his mind clearly preoccupied with thoughts of his own. Velvette leaned against the wall, sketching away in her sketchbook, that Vox only now took notice of, and the very thing she’s drawing in it.

“What is that?” Vox pointed at the drawing Velvette was occupying herself with.

“Hm? Oh.” The woman lifted the pad for Vox to see. “Since, you said we’d still have to deal with him, when he regresses at work, I decided to design some ‘littlespace clothes’ for, Itsy Bitsy.”

“Why? What’s wrong with what he’s wearing right now?” Vox asked.

Velvette rolled her eyes, “I don’t care if he’s got baby brains. I ain’t letting anyone here prance or crawl around in a tacky oversized sweater and ugly Christmas socks.”

Valentino snickered at Velvette's blunt response. "Hey, those socks are comfy, alright? But I guess if you're designing something, it better be sexy and stylish."

Velvette shot him a deadpan look. "This is for a toddler, not a nightclub."

"Hey, you never know," Valentino teased, winking at Vox. "The little pequeño could use some glam even in his smaller form."

Vox sighed, rubbing his temples. "Let's focus on practicality here. He needs clothes that are comfortable and safe. We don't want anything that could be dangerous or inappropriate. Remember Val, this isn’t the same Angel right now.”

“Right. Fine….” The moth turned away.

Velvette nodded in agreement. "Of course, I'm thinking soft fabrics, easy to wash, nothing with choking hazards or irritating seams. But, it would still look stunning!”

Vox’s face scrunched up in concern, “Toddlers and Tiaras stunning? Or—“

“Ew. No! Never fucking bring that up to me ever again!” Velvette glared at Vox. “I meant MY STYLE stunning. ‘Velvette’ stunning! As all my brands have always been.”

Suddenly an idea sparked in the woman’s eyes. “Wait! That’s perfect!” She exclaimed, standing up.

“What is?” Valentino asked the woman.

“We can turn this into a new part of our business! We can sell clothes, for littles! We can drag more people in, since there are barely any baby supplies in hell! Save for hellborn babies, but I bet ‘littles’ don’t have much for themselves down here.” Velvette said to her business partners. “We can even get good publicity from this! If they think we care about littles, we’d be gaining more trust!”

“I already thought of a name for the brand: ‘Little Angels’ by Velvette! Place your trust in us, like your littles trust you!”

“That’s great and all Vel, but the whole regressed Angel thing is supposed to be a secret remember?” Vox said to the woman. “Angel Dust being a little won’t look good on the news, especially since all of hell knows he works under Val.”

Velvette rolled her eyes again, and groaned. “Ugh! So? We can just twist the story! Instead of Angel Dust himself being a little, let’s say it was either one of my employees or yours. And….” She snaps her fingers trying to come up with an alternate story.

“Angel came accross them, regressing, while preparing for a pinup shoot. And then he says he’s a caregiver! So, Valentino gave him time off to take care of them. And then that’s when we came up with the idea to design clothes for littles! And the brand name.”

Vox considered Velvette's proposal, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "That's... actually not a bad cover story," he admitted. "It deflects attention from Angel and, we don’t have to worry about any caregivers antagonizing us."

Velvette grinned, clearly pleased with the positive response. "Exactly! This is too fucking good of an opportunity to ignore!”

Velvette turned to Angel. “Itsy bitsy, can you stand up?”

Angel looked up from his coloring book, as he processed what Velvette had asked.

“Uh-uh… legs wobbly…” Angel answered shaking his head.

Velvette waved it off, “That’s fine. I think I can work with your current position.”

Using her powers, she waved her hands in the air to change Angel’s clothes, into one of the cute onesies she designed. She continued to swipe right until the perfect outfit appeared on Angel; a frilly yellow dress, with puffy sleeves.

“Perfect!” Velvette exclaimed, enthusiastically.

“Ooh…!” Angel looked down at himself, and fiddled with the frills of the dress’ top, and kicked his feet at his new socks. They were more fitted, but comfortable thin white cotton, with blues bows decorating the toe ends of the socks. And his bottom was even more covered up by the dress going down to his knees.

Angel starts giggling, “Pretty!”

Velvette went up and pinched his cheeks, and cooed at him. “Who’s our sweet little bundle of political gain! You are! Yes you are~ Aren’t you just the cutest cash cow!”

Angel blinked up at her confused.

Vox snickered, shaking his head. "You're gonna scare the kid, Vel. Tone it down a bit."

Velvette rolled her eyes but complied, letting go of Angel's cheeks. "Fine, fine. But you have to admit, now that he’s in this dress, he’s kinda cute now. It'll definitely sell."

Angel continued to fiddle with the hem of his new dress, clearly enjoying the attention. "Pwetty! Thank you, Betty!"

Velvette's eye twitched at the nickname but she forced a smile. "You're welcome, Itsy Bitsy.”

Angel paused in his giggling, and suddenly stared off to nowhere, looking like he’s trying to concentrate on something.

And that something bloomed into a bright red hue of shame across his face, and a noxious scent all over the air.

Vox and Velvette didn’t realize what the spider had just done, until they noticed Valentino had bolted out of the room.

The other two exchanged a horrified glance, their noses wrinkling as the foul odor spread through the room.

“Did he just—” Velvette began, her eyes widening.

“Yes. Yes, he did,” Vox confirmed, his voice tinged with resignation.

“TINO YOU FUCKING COWARD! GET YOUR ASS BACK IN HERE!” Velvette ran out the door, leaving Vox alone with Angel once again.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I hope I didn’t make them too out of character. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get them accurate when I wrote this fic.

[nereidprinc3ss]

WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK.

pt 6 literally made me CRY i feel like i’m insane shut up 😭😭😭 SO SO SO EXCELLENT i think you wrapped the fight up in the most perfect way possible btw and i wanna commend u for that cause it was probably so stressful writing all that angst and then trying to figure out how to resolve it. it was so good and so satisfying to read i loved the reveal when they both realised finally what the other was feeling GOD 😭😭😭 and him asking her if she’d let him take care of her SCREAMS like actually oh my god. SO PERFECT i loved every bit of when they got up to her apartment too like i could FEEL the atmosphere if that makes sense everything felt so cozy and glowy and soft and golden brown and warm and perfect and i was actually smiling like an idiot the entire time along with them like STFUUUU YOU ARE SO PERFECT. also the line you wrote about her feeling like she’s glowing gold with it I WILL DIE that’s the best sentence i’ve ever seen idk it sounds stupid bc it’s literally just a line but i loved reading that so much you conveyed the feeling so perfectly 😭😭 i literally feel insane cause after i finished i really just had to sit and take a moment i promise i’m not exaggerating i really had to just Be for a second and then i started thinking about how much i need to be in love like that made my CHEST HURT.

also the ending … this is sort of funny but i literally flinched when i got to the paragraph of him slamming the door open which might say a lot about me tbh BUT I QAS SO IMMERSED IN THE WRITING 😭😭 like i was reading it paragraph by paragraph so i didn’t miss anything LOL and so once i kept scrolling i really was not expecting him to come back LOL so my heart skipped a beat along with r’s which i thought was a little silly and also so funny like what do you mean you’re bringing bodily reactions out of me through A Screen

anddd as always you had me kicking my feet like my stomach flipped a little bit when he started saying anyone can come in YUMMM idk sorry i need him. also the part where he says she’s cute and tasted like candy I WILL DIE …

sorry this was so unbelievably long you know me … but in conclusion we love you SO BAD spencer we love you reader and above all we fucking adore you nereidprinc3ss if you have no fans i am dead standing ovation for the best to ever touch her fingers to a keyboard there will never be another writer like you

oh my god i literally adore you thank you so much for this my beautiful perfect angel

I NEED HIM TOO GIRL and also yes i struggled baaaadddddd with figuring out how to wrap up ALL the angst i had set up like i can’t even tell you the number of times I just opened my laptop and stared at an empty word document and was like. wtf have i done. maybe i just give up and change my identity. but i persevered and im glad you like how it worked out in the end!!! ilysm thank u for taking the time to share this!!

[jobsforyou]

What are the best ways to look for jobs in UAE?

If you are planning on visiting Dubai specifically to search for a job then you need to keep a lot of things in mind even before you land there. I have lived and worked in Dubai and have gone through this process first handalbeit with some help and assistance and can tell you, with guarantee, that it is going to be, if anything else,an eye opening experience.

First and foremost, don’t be stupid. Even if you are desperate, don’t be stupid. I have met quite a few people, in Dubai, who basically took wrong and hasty decisions out of desperation and ended up being on the streets. Don’t do that. Please.

Secondly, learn the geography of Dubai. Then learn about the different areas in Dubai and learn it with their proper names. I’ll tell you how to do this in a moment.Thirdly, buy a Dubai Metro Rail Card - If you’re going to stay in Dubai for a month, then it would be wise to buy a Dubai Metro Rail Card and recharge/top it up for a month. The metro card works in all public transport buses as well.

Now, to learn the geography of Dubai, look up the map of Dubai Metro online on their website. You will also find third party sites explaining how the Dubai Metro works. When you study this, you will understand all the names of the metro stations and also the areas it covers. Most Dubai Metro stations are named after the areas itserves. However, some metro station names have been changed recently as an effort to promote some companies/organisations. E.g. Al Karama is a popular area in Dubai. The metro station was called Karama for a long time until they changed it to ADCB i.e Abu Dhabi Commercial Bank.

Lastly, don’t go without a plan for every single day. If you don’t have a exact plan for the entire day for each day of your stay, don’t go. Do yourself a favour, please. Now, let’s see the things that you will have to keep in mind when you’re visiting Dubai with the intention of looking for a job.

Network - If you have absolutely nobody that you know in Dubai and want to still go and search for a job, you will have to start networking in whatever way possible. The first person you speak to regarding a job, make sure you walk out with at least one if not a few, references (phone nos. especially) of other people who may have a job. That’s how you do it. Insist on giving at least one reference even if they have to think hard. Don’t irritate or pester of course, but try hard.The more people you meet or speak to, greater are the chances of you getting a job. When I was in Dubai, we used to say this quite often; “Out of sight, out of mind.” It’s that simple.

Food - Eating out in Dubai is cheap. Food is available in abundance and will not cost you a lot of money. I believe a cup of chai at a Malbari’s roadside cafe will still be for 1 Dhs. Find out a good reasonably prices restaurant or a cafe that serves meals and stick to it everyday. Speak to people living in the area that you are staying for recommendations. Most people will help you out.Stay alert - If you come across people telling you that they will help you in getting a job but that they will take a commission for the same, refuse and walk away. As I said in the beginning, don’t be stupid and pay anybody any amount of money who promises you a job. Seriously, don’t fall for that. If you feel they are genuine for whatever reasons, tell them you will pay the commission from your first salary. If they agree, you can go for it. If they don’t, you should walk away.

Climate - Dubai is an extremely hot city. And when I say extremely I mean that by the definition of the word extreme. No exaggeration. Literally every place that has four walls will be air conditioned. As such you will not feel the heat when you’re inside of any building. But trust me, you will have to walk a lot and it is then that you feel the heat badly. No matter when you visit the city, it is never too cold unless of course you come a place hotter than Dubai like the Death Valley in California or someplace in the North Africa. Point is, you must stay hydrated at all times. Carry an umbrella if you like. But stay safe from the heat.

Ramadan/Ramzan - Please avoid going in the month of Ramadan/Ramzan. Your objective of searching for a job will not be met as offices will usually have reduced working hours and most people will head home around 3:00 PM. Also, you will meet a lot less people during this time and therefore you will waste your time and money. So avoid going around this time. Plan your trip either before the holy month of Ramadan/Ramzan begins or after Eid.

I am not sure how far this is true, but it is said, that there was a time when around 500 people arrived in Dubai on visit/tourist visas to only look for jobs, DAILY. I can tell you that this is not the case now as I hear how bad the job market has become in Dubai. The house rents have plummeted beyond belief. People have left and migrated elsewhere.

Lastly, before you take the risk of going to Dubai to look for a job, you should ask yourself how much are you putting at stake. Consider your age, liabilities, family settings and more importantly your goal. If the answer to the question ‘why do you want to live and work in Dubai?’ is to earn some good money and have a better standard of living then let me give you a word of caution. Not only you will not earn a lot of money when you start out but you will also not have a better standard of living. It will take a minimum of 2, in some cases 3 years for you to see any tangible change in your lifestyle and income. Unless of course, you’re a highly skilled, qualified and get hired as a manager or designations above that. Then this does not apply for you. You’ll be better off in about six months to a year.

If you need any type of jobs in UAE, Aspirewiki provides you free signup and easy platform at the preferred part time jobs in dubai center.

[workofheart]

promise

levi never thought he could have a peaceful night’s rest until he found himself in your arms

requested by: @thecaptainsbride​ 

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

wc: 2.5k

genre: fluff, canonverse, establishing domesticity

a/n: we had levi comforting reader, and now we have reader comforting levi :’) in terms of the request, i altered the timeline a bit but i think it still captures what you were going for! enjoy u guys <3

Levi isn’t used to letting people into his space.

In this line of work, he’s learned to be careful of the people he trusts to see his life from the inside. Not only to retain the secrecy and plans of the Scouts, but to protect his well being when he is so surrounded by death and destruction. A heart can only break so many times before it fails to beat at all.

That’s why, when the night comes when he finally decides to let you stay over, he’s tense. He observes your every step, unsure if he’s nervous or embarrassed or scared. It’s not skepticism, he knows, because he does trust you. You’re the only person he could possibly imagine him letting get so close to him with all that he’s experienced. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have let you enter in the first place; so for once, he’s going to have faith his own judgment.

You slowly pace around his room, peeking at the knick knacks Levi has accumulated over the span of his life so far. He has quite the array of stationary arranged neatly on his desk, and a curated assortment of pens and ink to choose from. Worn, loved books line the shelves of the wooden case, small pieces of paper poking out from the top. A nimble finger traces over the cracked spine of one with a faded green cover.

“Can I?” you ask, turning over your shoulder to see him. Levi is sitting on the edge of his bed, palms pressed tightly to his thighs. He takes a deep breath and nods gently in response, dark strands of hair falling in front of his eyes.

You carefully tilt the spine towards you and pluck it from its spot. Flipping through the pages, you can see how Levi has diligently underlined, highlighted, and starred the passages. Small notes in his delicate handwriting decorate the margins with definitions and insightful observations. This book has been well read, and you’re sure the others are just the same.

His room is fairly bare for how long it’s been his home, but how much of a home is it really if he’s always on the move with the scouts? Constantly between hotels, barracks, abandoned homes, or whatever else the world throws at them next, he hasn’t had time to make the space livable. They’re never in one place too long - this is more like a headquarters to come back to after the day is done. And for Levi, the day is rarely done, even when the sun has set and the sky turns dark.

It’s strange, but he almost likes having you here. To him, it’s always been just a room. A simple, stupid box in a line of other simple, stupid boxes to house people just like him. Now that you’re occupying the space, though, it’s much different. It’s no longer just a room, but a sort of home. 

Your presence here gives it much more meaning than any trinket he might have placed on the shelf. Things in this room he’s never given a second thought suddenly burst to life with your interest in them, pulling memories from the depths of his brain as he recalls where he got them, when he got them, just because you asked. 

It’s much too easy for him, too, the way he imagines coming home from a long day to greet you at the front door. He pictures you perfectly, hair twisted into a loose braid, a soft nightgown hanging off your shoulders, feet sporting cozy slippers that make muted thuds as you walk over to give him a warm welcome back. He imagines quiet mornings sitting at the table for two, sipping tea and working through crosswords together. He sees himself reading aloud to you at the bay window, dozing off against his shoulder under the light. 

The thought of such uncomplicated, reliable domesticity with you is a thought he lets himself dream about. It seems natural, a routine he wouldn’t mind slipping into in the slightest, and you haven’t even stayed the night yet. 

He wouldn’t mind living here forever as long as you did too

When your curiosity has been, for the most part, sated, you return back and join him on the bed. You plop down, expecting to sink right in - why exactly, you’re not sure, because it’s incredibly characteristic for Levi’s bed to be as hard as a rock.

Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but the firmness is still shocking beneath your fingertips.

“Have you ever even slept in this bed?” You ask with wide eyes, hands pressing down into the austere cushion, trying to fluff it like it was a pillow. The incredulous smile adorning your face makes his stomach flip. He crosses his arms across his front as if to mask his heart beating out of his rib cage. He's never been in such close, private quarters with you before. 

Levi shrugs. “I don’t really sleep anywhere.” Internally, he shakes off his nerves, not wanting to embarrass himself by leaning into them. The thought of showing how bashful he feels alone is mortifying, but he doesn’t know yet that you’d only love him more for it. 

You can’t help but to tease, muttering, “I mean, I know of a way to break it in.” Your face is utterly serious, but your eyes, swimming with a mirth Levi is far too fond of, give it away. 

Levi diverts his eyes with a small roll to the side, the hint of a smile crawling up his face. He’s the last person you’d think to be flustered by such a thing, but it’s only because it’s you. “Go to bed, brat.”

You pout. “Only if you lay down with me.”

“I told you, I don’t sleep.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t lay down.”

You know your way around Levi too well, he thinks, or maybe he just loves you. The way you can get his resolve to crumble with a mere pleading expression must be some sort of crime. You read him like a book and know him like the back of your hand to a point where it would be dangerous if it were anyone else. Usually the thought of such a person would intimidate him, but he doesn’t mind being seen by you - not that he has a choice. Against your will, he doesn’t stand a chance; not now and not ever.

He sighs a long sigh and gestures for you to get in with a small wave of his hand. While he stands to close to blinds and light the lamp by his bedside, you scramble under the covers. The initial feeling of warmth covers your skin and makes you shiver as you adjust, crawling hastily under and pulling the blankets up close to your chest. They’re soft and clean and smell just like Levi.

He lets out a yawn that oddly reminds you of a lion pup, but you don’t mention it, instead locking it away for you to think of later on. If you said anything, he’d probably never do it again. Gently, he pulls up the covers on his side and slides under to join you, the bed sinking with his added weight.

“Goodnight, Levi.”

“Goodnight, dear.”

After laying for a while, staring up at the ceiling, Levi feels himself become drowsy. He lets his muscles relax, lets his jaw unclench, lets his eyes fall shut. Though he’s a bit puzzled as to why, sleeping now seems so inviting, and who is he to deny it?

From his side, you watch his breathing slow. It settles into a steady rise and fall of his chest, and his lips part slightly.

The progression is slow. At first, you work up the courage to slip your arm over his middle. You spend minute after minute contemplating, picturing him pushing you away, but you’re getting tired and enough is enough. You slip your arm over his middle and stay completely still; then, nothing happens.

Until moments later, when he rolls onto his side to face your direction. His eyes are still closed, rhythmically relaxed breaths leaving his nose. Then, you move onto your back and scoot up a bit further onto the pillows. He unconsciously curls into your warmth, shifting further into your body, and it makes you melt immediately, swelling with a giddy feeling. You’re almost worried the joyous thumping you feel inside your chest will wake him up.

Eventually, Levi’s head rests perfectly atop your shoulder, small puffs of air falling lightly on your skin. Your hands rub calm circles into the skin on his back where his t-shirt has ridden up, careful not to rouse him from his slumber.

It’s like that for a long time. You keep yourself awake, content with just holding him for now. You take the time to think, watching the flickering glow of the lamp, listening to his quiet breaths, feeling the muted beat of his heart on your hip.

It’s hours later when Levi sucks in a big breath, blinking awake in alarm. His head picks up off your chest and he looks around, finally settling on you who blinks right back. His lids squeeze shut and he mentally grounds himself as he realizes he’s safe.

“You okay?” you ask quietly, voice low as to not interrupt the calm of the night. Your hold around him tightens to let him know you’re there.

He shakes his head slightly and sighs. “Bad dream.” 

“‘S all right,” you say, hand moving from his back to his nape, “you can go back to sleep.”

He rubs his eyes, yawning. In an instant, he freezes, realizing the position he’s in. He’s practically clinging to you like a child would a toy, and he feels a familiar heat flush his skin as his head hangs. “Sorry.” He swallows. “I should probably start work.” 

He starts to push himself off of you to get up, but your hold on his shoulders is firm, pulling him right back down.

“You’re tired,” you say. “Stay. I’ll be right here.”

He sighs, looking around, before resigning and dipping his head back down to lay on top of you. He doesn’t feel like arguing something he knows he wants deep down anyway. He nuzzles his face into your front, shaking his head slightly as if to clear his mind of what was plaguing it in his rest.

“Promise you won’t leave,” he mumbles softly into your shirt, barely audible. He’s too tired to put up a mask for show, and he’s relieved to see that you don’t need one from him come rain or shine.

Your fingers card through his silky locks and brush them back from his face as his body finally sinks into yours, his weight a warming comfort. It’s slight, but you feel his head tilt just a bit further into your palm.

You place a chaste kiss to his crown. “Promise.”

☆☆☆

When the morning sun finally wakes and rises above the horizon line, Levi finds himself turning away from the beams filtering through the curtains. He feels the golden light on his lids, and he flips onto his opposite side, clinging to the cozy feel of his bed. The only thing that pulls him from his slumber is when his hand stretches out to find emptiness all around, your presence absent from his space where he so desperately wants you.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” you say, watching him shift slowly and gain his surroundings. You’re standing at the small counter across the room, boiling a pot of water on the stove - Levi can tell from the faint rumbling of bursting bubbles inside the steel kettle. He slowly peels his eyes open to get a glimpse of you, features seeming to glow with the light pouring in from the windows. He feels his heart skip a beat that he’s not ready for.

 Levi is surprised that he has slept in so late, let alone slept through the entire night at all. It’s rare that this happens - he almost wants to say it’s the first time it has occurred for him, waking up in secure comfort rather than burning fear. The only thing that could make it better were if you were right beside him.

Of course, Levi can’t bring himself to say something so forward this early in the morning. Instead, he mumbles a small, “Come back,” a hint of a whine to his voice that only you could identify.

There’s a muted clinking sound as you stir a spoon around in the porcelain cups you’ve prepared, knocking against each other as you try your best to pick them up. It feels like a juggling act, trying to bring them over safely. You don’t know how Levi makes it look so easy every time he brings you a cup when they are so awfully hot to the touch. He must have gotten used to it, or bears the sting for the sake of his collected appearance.

“I was planning on it,” you reassure him, “just had to stretch a bit.” 

Your feet pad lightly across the wood floors until you reach him, offering the tea which he graciously accepts. You set your own on the nightstand to cool while Levi takes his first sip immediately. It tastes just like how he makes it for himself. Considering he’s never explicitly shown you exactly what he does, he’s both surprised and deeply touched.

His eyes follow you as you clamor in next to him. He asks the question that’s been playing on his mind since he stirred awake hours ago. 

“Were you awake all night?”

He sees your expression falter slightly and knows right from then. Regardless, you brush it off without hesitation, nestling up to his side.

“No, no,” you lie casually, “I woke up a little before you did and went to sleep after.”

With a gentle hand, you straighten out the part in his hair, laying down the slight frizz from where his head was pressed into the pillow.

Levi looks at you for a long time, observing your tender gestures. He sees right through your words, and also sees the slight droop of your eyes, a hint of darkness beneath them. He thinks of you awake all night, petting his hair as he rests while you don’t, and brings a twinge of guilt to his heart. At the same time, his soul is utterly warmed and thankful. He’s not sure what to make of someone who’d do that for him.

He disregards your previous statement and instead addresses the obvious truth. “Don’t do that for me. You need sleep too.”

It draws a laugh from you. The way your eyes crease has his heart faltering. “I sleep more than enough, trust me.”

He peeks at you over the top of his tea cup, wishing he could freeze this moment in time, capturing how you look perfectly down to the miniscule curve of your lips so that he’ll never forget it. Maybe, he won’t have to.

He doesn’t need to ask because the answer is clear, but he does anyway.

“...Would you mind staying again tonight?”

[the-king-andthe-lionheart]

The Fundamentals of Gendrya

So I just want to establish the possible foreshadowing Arya and Gendry have that hints at a possible romantic relationship in the future, as well as the romantic undertones present in their story.  I’m not really going to focus on symbolism in this meta (although it will come up a couple of times in a minor way), as that will be a focus for future meta.  This is only meant to establish the fundamental basics.

First I want to say that when I’m talking about the romantic possibility of Gendrya, I mean future Gendrya, as in once Arya is older.  However I will posit and say that because we are viewing this in the world of Westeros (in a pseudo Medieval world that GRRM exaggerated and sensationalized from real Medieval sources as well as rumor) and because GRRM has established he has no problems with placing his younger characters in romantic or sexual situations (see Mercy TWOW) I think it would be remiss to think GRRM would not take Arya and Gendry here if that was his plan all along.  After all, there is plenty of precedent.  

This also leads me to remind everyone that Gendry is not an adult when he meets Arya, and the age gap between the two is one of the least egregious age gaps in the books as most of the age gaps are between adult men in their 20’s and 30’s with 12-16 year old girl’s.  I think a lot of people think of the age gap as Arya being 9 the whole time and Gendry being 16, but this is in fact wrong.  According to the timeline, Arya and Gendry meet at the beginning of 299 AC, right around Arya’s 10th birthday.  In 299 AC Gendry was only 13/14 years old.  He was born in 284 AC and is not the same age as Robb and Jon, like Ned surmises.  Gendry is just big for his age, and it’s highly likely Gendry doesn’t even know how old he is.  When Arya and Gendry separate in ASOS Arya is almost 11 while Gendry is 14/15 years old.  

Regardless, this is fiction, and doesn’t reflect real world morals.  So what I’m getting at is that if anyone disagrees with this meta because of their ages I suggest you don’t read any further.

Foreshadowing

Our first hint of foreshadowing happens in Arya’s very first chapter:

She frowned down at them with dismay and glanced over to where her sister Sansa sat among the other girls.  Sansa's needlework was exquisite.  Everyone said so.  “Sansa's work is as pretty as she is,” Septa Mordane told their lady mother once.  “She has such fine, delicate hands.”  When Lady Catelyn had asked about Arya, the septa had sniffed.  “Arya has the hands of a blacksmith.” - Arya I AGOT

This quote is later followed up with:

[...] “I ruined that gown Lady Smallwood gave me, and I don't sew so good.”  She chewed her lip.  “I don't sew very well, I mean.  Septa Mordane used to say I had a blacksmith's hands.”

Gendry hooted.  “Those soft little things,” he called out.  “You couldn't even hold a hammer.” - Arya VII ASOS

In the same book Lem Lemoncloak says this to Gendry:

“You must be a lackwit, boy,” said Lem.  “We're outlaws.  Lowborn scum, most of us, except for his lordship.  Don't think it'll be like Tom's fool songs neither.  You won't be stealing no kisses from a princess, nor riding in no tourneys in stolen armor.  You join us, you'll end with your neck in a noose, or your head mounted up above some castle gate.” - Arya VII ASOS

At this point Arya is indeed a princess, but Lem also makes an obvious reference (to the audience) to the Knight of the Laughing Tree, which I think we can safely say was Lyanna.  The fact that Lyanna is Arya’s literary mirror, tells me we can connect Arya to Lem’s comment, not to mention the inclusion of “princess” just kind of seals the deal.  We also know that Arya is the spitting image of Lyanna and Gendry the spitting image of Robert Baratheon.  I think it’s worth noting also that after Acorn Hall, Lem takes it upon himself to make sure nothing untoward happens between Arya and Gendry (he thought Gendry was taking advantage of Arya after they wrestled) as he starts sleeping in between them, which is seen in Arya V ASOS when they are at The Peach.  Lem saying “Don’t think it’ll be like Tom’s fool songs neither” is also interesting because at Acorn Hall we specifically get Tom singing a love song directed towards Arya and Gendry.

Speaking of Lyanna and Robert being reflections of Arya (in both appearance and personality) and Gendry (in appearance for the most part) this is said in Eddard I AGOT:

We were meant to rule together. If Lyanna had lived, we should have been brothers, bound by blood as well as affection. Well, it is not too late. I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done."

Now this quote may be referring to Sansa and Joffrey, but I do think it’s foreshadowing for Gendrya and this is just a misdirect.  After all, Joffrey is not Robert Baratheon’s son by blood, but Gendry is, even though he is illegitimate.  To me this also sounds like a promise.  When you think about it, the story truly begins at the Tourney of Harrenhal with the events that broke the betrothal between Lyanna and Robert, so it would be very cyclical for the ending to do what the beginning could not, binding a Stark and a Baratheon together in marriage.

There are also several references about Arya marrying an apprentice/blacksmith:

“[...] Or if it is marriage and children you desire, tell me, and we shall find a husband for you.  Some honest apprentice boy, a rich old man, a seafarer, whatever you desire.” - Arya II AFFC

We also have a comment made by Jaime:

“Not all,” said Jaime.  “Lord Eddard's daughters live.  One has just been wed.  The other...”  Brienne, where are you?  Have you found her?  “...if the gods are good, she'll forget she was a Stark.  She'll wed some burly blacksmith or fat-faced innkeep, fill his house with children, and never need to fear that some knight might come along to smash their heads against a wall.” - Jaime I ADWD

Now I know what you are going to say, that Jaime is referring to Sansa possibly marrying a blacksmith or innkeep, but if it weren’t for Jaime’s thought’s in the middle towards Brienne, you’d never guess which Stark daughter he is referring to because Sansa was only just recently married as well.  Also it’s Arya who is associated with a blacksmith (Gendry) and a fat-faced innkeep (Hot Pie).  So while Jaime is referring to Sansa here I think we are meant to actually look at the reality behind this and reverse the foreshadowing back onto Arya, because it wasn’t Arya who was recently wed, that was Sansa.  It’s also Arya who is legitimately trying to forget she was a Stark (Sansa isn’t trying to forget, she is only pretending to be Alayne to ensure her protection) and like I mentioned it’s Arya who had a blacksmith and future employee at an inn as companions for two novels.  So I think it’s a foreshadowing switcheroo.  And I think it’s also worth mentioning that while Jaime sent Brienne out to save Sansa, Brienne spends her whole journey almost exclusively hearing news and following leads about Arya.

There is also a reference in Brienne VII AFFC that makes mention that Arya may marry an apprentice boy:

Gendry was the closest thing to a man grown, but it was Willow shouting all the orders, as if she were a queen in her castle and the other children were no more than servants.

If she were highborn, command would come naturally to her, and deference to them.  Brienne wondered whether Willow might be more than she appeared.  The girl was too young and too plain to be Sansa Stark, but she was of the right age to be the younger sister, and even Lady Catelyn had said that Arya lacked her sister's beauty.  Brown hair, brown eyes, skinny...could it be?  Arya Stark's hair was brown, she recalled, but Brienne was not sure about the color of her eyes.  Brown and brown, was that it?  Could it be that she did not die at Saltpans after all?

*

“One day that little girl [Willow] will make some man a frightful wife,” Ser Hyle observed.  “That poor 'prentice boy [Gendry], most like.”

Willow is very obviously a Arya stand-in which makes this specific quote about Arya and Gendry, not Willow and Gendry.

Arya IV ASOS has the strongest case for future romantic Gendrya.  Not only does Gendry follow after Arya and invite her to look at the forge, Gendry opens up to her about his life right before he was uprooted, and does this:

Gendry reached out with the tongs as if to pinch her face, but Arya swatted them away.

Gendry is being playful and open with Arya during most of this scene in the forge, teasing her in a manner that verges on flirting, telling her a story about his past, laughing and having fun with Arya.  And then this happens:

Gendry put the hammer down and looked at her.  “You look different now.  Like a proper little girl.”

“I look like an oak tree, with all these stupid acorns.”

“Nice, though.  A nice oak tree.”  He stepped closer, and sniffed at her.  “You even smell nice for a change.”

“You don't.  You stink.”  Arya shoved him back against the anvil and made to run, but Gendry caught her arm.  She stuck a foot between his legs and tripped him, but he yanked her down with him, and they rolled across the floor of the smithy.  He was very strong, but she was quicker.  Every time he tried to hold her still she wiggled free and punched him.  Gendry only laughed at the blows, which made her mad.  He finally caught both her wrists in one hand and started to tickle her with the other, so Arya slammed her knee between his legs, and wrenched free.  Both of them were covered in dirt, and one sleeve was torn on her stupid acorn dress.  “I bet I don't look so nice now,” she shouted.

Gendry compliments Arya’s looks and scent, only for Arya to think he’s teasing her about her appearance due to her intense insecurity when it comes to highborn conformation (Gendry’s laugh when he first saw her didn’t help matters in her insecurity even though Gendry most likely only laughed out of being startled at her transformation).  This insecurity leads Arya into getting angry and starting a wrestling match with him.  This wrestling scene also directly follows Jaime and Brienne’s very sexually charged sword fight, and could also be interpreted as foreshadowing a romantic and potentially sexual relationship in the future, like theirs did, when they are older.  

Now I’m not saying that I think Gendrya is going to go NC-17 in the books, but I do think it’s likely to go PG-13 by the end of ADOS, considering we have precedent that GRRM has no qualms about writing these types of things as I mentioned above, and we know Arya is going to be 12 in TWOW and may be at least 14-15 when the series ends depending on how much GRRM can spread out the timeline in the next two books.  But considering the amount of stuff that needs to happen, I think the next two books will span 2-3 years before the epilogue begins.

Then there is the love song GRRM specifically wrote for Arya.  A song that has only appeared in one chapter, Arya’s chapter:

“My featherbed is deep and soft,

and there I'll lay you down,

I'll dress you all in yellow silk,

and on your head a crown.

For you shall be my lady love,

and I shall be your lord.

I'll always keep you warm and safe,

and guard you with my sword.

“And how she smiled and how she laughed,

the maiden of the tree.

She spun away and said to him,

no featherbed for me.

I'll wear a gown of golden leaves,

and bind my hair with grass,

But you can be my forest love,

and me your forest lass.”

Now we know this song is about them because when Tom O’Sevens is singing it, he winks at Arya, and later Lady Smallwood specifically says to Arya “I have no gowns of leaves”.  The song specifically mentions yellow – a Baratheon color – and depicts the free spirited “Maiden of the Tree” who wants love on her own terms, which sounds like what an older, flowered version of Arya would want if she fell in love.

Romantic Undertones

Arya’s Crush

As she passed the armory, Arya heard the ring of a hammer. A deep orange glow shone through the high windows. She climbed to the roof and peeked down. Gendry was beating out a breastplate. When he worked, nothing existed for him but metal, bellows, fire. The hammer was like part of his arm. She watched the play of muscles in his chest and listened to the steel music he made. He's strong, she thought. As he took up the long-handled tongs to dip the breastplate into the quenching trough, Arya slithered through the window and leapt down to the floor beside him. - Arya IX ACOK

It’s very subtle but this paragraph tells us everything.  Arya unintentionally reveals in this quote that she watches Gendry blacksmithing enough to know that the world falls away when he’s in his element.  She watches the play of muscles in his back and notes how strong he is and even attaches poetic language to his work.  Arya has a crush on Gendry.  It’s not acknowledged and it’s likely she doesn’t understand it herself, but this seems to be the truth of it, especially with the way GRRM worded this.  I don’t know how many times I’ve read a romance where the protagonist studies their love interest while watching the “play of muscles” in their back or their arms.  It’s also interesting to note that Arya always mentions specifics about Gendry’s looks and notes details about him:

He blinked at her, startled. Strands of thick black hair, still wet from the bathhouse, fell across his deep blue eyes. "I'd hurt you." - Arya II ACOK

"It's me they want," Arya whispered back. His ear smelled of soap. "You be quiet." - Arya II ACOK

When she spied Gendry, his bare chest was slick with sweat, but the blue eyes under the heavy black hair had the stubborn look she remembered. - Arya VIII ACOK

"She's not alone." Gendry rode out from behind the cottage wall, and behind him Hot Pie, leading her horse. In his chainmail shirt with a sword in his hand, Gendry looked almost a man grown, and dangerous. Hot Pie looked like Hot Pie. - Arya II ASOS

Now most of these I’d normally chalk up to the author just being descriptive, but if that’s the case, why don’t we know more about Hot Pie’s looks, who Arya spent nearly a year with at the same time as Gendry?  Why does she take special time out to describe Gendry so much?  Honestly I think part of it is to keep reminding us that Gendry is a secret Baratheon bastard, but that doesn’t explain the first quote about Arya watching the “play of muscles” in his back and noting how strong he is.  So I think it’s a combination of GRRM wanting to remind the audience that Gendry is a Baratheon and to also subtly show us that Arya has an innocent crush on him, but doesn’t know or acknowledge that this is the case out loud.

Their Mutual Jealousy

Starting after the events of Acorn Hall in Arya IV ASOS, it’s obvious that something shifts in Arya and Gendry’s relationship.  One aspect is that Gendry can no longer ignore that Arya is indeed a highborn girl after seeing her for the first time dressed up as one.  He knows what class differences will mean for their friendship.  And another aspect, is that Gendry acknowledges that he may be romantically interested in Arya, or at least acknowledges the potential for those feelings to emerge in time.  And because of this, combined with their class differences, Gendry knows that if he follows Arya to Riverrun where her mother and brother are, he would end up watching Arya grow into someone he could romantically love, only for her to be torn away from him due to an arranged marriage.  Both of these aspects play a factor in why we see Gendry become more outwardly scathing towards highborns in the chapters following this and why his behavior seems to become one rife with jealousy.

In Arya V ASOS the Brotherhood Without Banners travel to The Peach and both of the above aspects I spoke of are present in this chapter:

"You don't even know what a brothel is."

"I do so," she insisted. "It's like an inn, with girls."

He was turning red again. "What are you doing here, then?" he demanded. "A brothel's no fit place for no bloody highborn lady, everybody knows that."

And when Gendry protects Arya from a pervert by saying that she’s his sister, this is what goes down:

"Why did you say that?" Arya hopped to her feet. "You're not my brother."

"That's right," he said angrily. "I'm too bloody lowborn to be kin to m'lady high."

Arya was taken aback by the fury in his voice. "That's not the way I meant it."

"Yes it is." He sat down on the bench, cradling a cup of wine between his hands. "Go away. I want to drink this wine in peace. Then maybe I'll go find that black-haired girl and ring her bell for her."

Arya doesn’t really understand the intentions of the pervert, despite knowing of sex, and is confused on why Gendry would say that he’s her brother, but when she asks him, he takes it the wrong way since he is already so sensitive about their class differences at this point in their story.  That last paragraph is what makes this exchange really interesting though.  Why would Gendry say this, when it’s already made clear and established in this chapter that Gendry has no intentions of sleeping with any of the girls, even when it’s offered to him for free?  He is very obviously lying to try to get a rise out of Arya and the only way this makes sense is if we put it under a romantic lens.

Then we have this:

Arya whirled and left him there. A stupid bullheaded bastard boy, that's all he is. He could ring all the bells he wanted, it was nothing to her.

Now considering Arya’s defense mechanism (the mechanism that has her calling things or people stupid when she’s hurt or feeling inadequate by them to try to make the pain and hurt not seem so severe) the fact that she calls Gendry a “stupid bullheaded bastard boy” and proclaims Gendry ringing the bells of any girl was “nothing to her” tells us that it matters to her and that she’s upset.  This is further reiterated in Arya VIII ASOS:

Arya wished she had another crabapple to bounce off his face. "My father had honor," she said angrily. "And we weren't talking to you anyway. Why don't you go back to Stoney Sept and ring that girl's stupid bells?"

So here we have Arya mention this three chapters later, likely weeks if not months later.  If Arya didn’t care about Gendry ringing “all the bells he wanted” then why is she still so hurt and jealous?  She’s obviously been stewing about this for a while.

In this same chapter we also see gems from Gendry that clearly proclaim that he’s still plagued about his class differences to Arya.  It also clearly shows that Gendry is jealous of Edric Dayne once Arya befriends him, especially since she befriended someone highborn, like her, who just so happens to be a boy who we know has nearly the same coloring as Rhaegar Targaryen, which evokes the history repeating motif that is present in Arya’s arc of the Rhaegar/Lyanna/Robert love triangle.

"You have a knife," Gendry suggested. "If your hair annoys you so much, shave your bloody head."

He doesn't like Ned. The squire seemed nice enough to Arya; maybe a little shy, but good-natured. She had always heard that Dornishmen were small and swarthy, with black hair and small black eyes, but Ned had big blue eyes, so dark that they looked almost purple. And his hair was a pale blond, more ash than honey. - Arya VIII ASOS

And

"My lady?" Ned looked embarrassed. "I'm Edric Dayne, the . . . the Lord of Starfall."

Behind them, Gendry groaned. "Lords and ladies," he proclaimed in a disgusted tone. Arya plucked a withered crabapple off a passing branch and whipped it at him, bouncing it off his thick bull head. "Ow," he said. "That hurt." He felt the skin above his eye. "What kind of lady throws crabapples at people?"

"The bad kind," said Arya, suddenly contrite. 

Gendry continues to encapsulate “ours is the fury” during Arya’s whole exchange with Edric Dayne.

I do want to add that I know Gendry’s class issues have always been there, and it’s definitely been made even more apparent to him during the War of the Five Kings during his time in the wartorn Riverlands with Arya, so it’s not exactly that far-fetched that Gendry may become even more sensitive and/or bitter about it.  However, this extremity of his behavior only happened after Acorn Hall where he saw Arya looking like the highborn girl she is.  And while I do believe part of Gendry’s increase of bitterness about their class differences does have to do with potential romantic feelings, I also think it has to do with Gendry also coming to terms with the fact that Arya’s family is also directly responsible for the carnage they have seen and experienced (even though he doesn’t blame Arya, as she seems to be one of Gendry’s exceptions when it comes to his dislike of the nobility).  If it weren’t for the blatant flirting on his behalf in the forge at Acorn Hall and the jealousy, I would honestly chalk it up to Gendry trying to reconcile his own trauma and anger regarding highborns, including Arya’s family’s sins, but alas, that is not completely the case.

Post Separation

When Arya is kidnapped by the Hound and witnesses the Red Wedding, Arya contemplates where she may go and this crosses her thoughts in a very romanticized light:

She could stay with Hot Pie, or maybe Lord Beric would find her there. Anguy would teach her to use a bow, and she could ride with Gendry and be an outlaw, like Wenda the White Fawn in the songs.

But that was just stupid, like something Sansa might dream. - Arya XII ASOS

The fact that Arya follows this thought up with “that was just stupid, like something Sansa might dream” tells us specifically what type of fantasy this is.  Arya isn’t fantasizing about an adventure, she’s fantasizing about love and romance, considering those are the types of flights of fancy Sansa always loses herself in.  Now Arya isn’t outright rejecting the possibility of romance here, because there is more to that second paragraph:

But that was just stupid, like something Sansa might dream. Hot Pie and Gendry had left her just as soon as they could, and Lord Beric and the outlaws only wanted to ransom her, just like the Hound. None of them wanted her around. They were never my pack, not even Hot Pie and Gendry. I was stupid to think so, just a stupid little girl, and no wolf at all.

She rejects the possibility because she remembers that Hot Pie and Gendry abandoned her as soon as they could, and that all the Brotherhood did was use her, according to her perspective on the matter.  And her perspective is entirely skewed because of her abandonment and low self-esteem issues, as well as not fully understanding the class issues as she honestly didn’t think that bringing Hot Pie and Gendry to Riverrun and Winterfell would cause any issues with their friendships, which is understandable for a kid to think.  Especially one that hadn’t been in the highborn world for the past year and a half.  In fact, Medieval children in the real world and in the books, weren’t reprimanded for playing together regardless of class, usually the highborn children played with the children of those who worked and lived within the castle walls, from other lords children to stewards children to the helps children.  It’s just something children did until they reached a certain age where it just wasn’t allowed anymore.  So it’s only natural for this not to really factor into Arya’s plans.

When Arya is about to walk into the House of Black and White, Arya comforts her fear with a memory of Gendry:

Suddenly she was somewhere else . . . back in Harrenhal with Gendry [...] - Arya I AFFC

Which indicates that Gendry is still very much on her mind at this point.  I think it really says something as well that Arya takes comfort from a memory at Harrenhal of all places.  I think this indicates how much comfort she took from their friendship.  I also think she doesn’t think about Gendry with the Brotherhood to take her comfort because while ASOS has the most romantic foreshadowing for them and the two shared some nice moments, it was also the start of them truly fracturing, or so her unreliable narration interpreted it as.  After all, she actually thought that Gendry was making fun of her looks at Acorn Hall, and she thought Gendry didn’t want to be her friend anymore as he “abandoned her” for the Brotherhood.  So while Harrenhal was awful and they had their disagreements there, Arya still felt reassured with his companionship and likely found it uncomplicated in comparison to her other problems at the time.

*

When we next see Gendry in Brienne VII AFFC we see a drastically different Gendry.  While Gendry has always been guarded and sullen with a chip on his shoulder, with little love for the nobility, this change is drastic enough where it’s unsettling to read at first.  Not only is Gendry just flat out rude in a very mean way but he is filled with rage.  Gendry joined the Brotherhood because he liked how they handled justice, but under Lady Stoneheart there is no justice and he doesn’t seem to mind.  His beliefs have shifted as well.

And though his eyes had been that same deep blue, Lord Renly's eyes had always been warm and welcoming, full of laughter, whereas this boy's eyes brimmed with anger and suspicion.

Septon Meribald asked if he might lead the children in a grace, ignoring the small girl crawling naked across the table. "Aye," said Willow, snatching up the crawler before she reached the porridge. So they bowed their heads together and thanked the Father and the Mother for their bounty . . . all but the black-haired boy from the forge, who crossed his arms against his chest and sat glowering as the others prayed. Brienne was not the only one to notice. When the prayer was done Septon Meribald looked across the table, and said, "Do you have no love for the gods, son?"

"Not for your gods." Gendry stood abruptly. "I have work to do." He stalked out without a bite of food.

Gendry was at his forge, bare-chested beneath his leather apron. He was beating on a sword as if he wished it were a foe [...]

What would a knight be doing working at a smithy? "You have black hair and blue eyes, and you were born in the shadow of the Red Keep. Has no one ever remarked upon your face?"

"What's wrong with my face? It's not as ugly as yours."

Lord Renly was ahead of her, her sweet smiling king. He was leading her horse through the trees. Brienne called out to tell him how much she loved him, but when he turned to scowl at her, she saw that he was not Renly after all. Renly never scowled. He always had a smile for me, she thought . . . except . . .

While some people chalk up Gendry’s behavior as a result of trauma about what he experienced in the Riverlands, and I don’t deny that is a factor, I don’t believe it’s the only factor because we didn’t see Gendry like this post Harrenhal or even with the Brotherhood in ASOS.  Yes he embodied “ours is the fury” at times and was jealous and bitter, and rude at times as well, but he wasn’t flat out cruel to people, nor filled with rage and vengeance.  The Gendry before Arya was taken would never have led Brienne to Lady Stoneheart for the slaughter after she tried to save everyone in that Inn against Rorge and Biter and co.  We can also see another difference in Gendry:

Lightning cracked to the south as the riders swung down off their horses. For half a heartbeat darkness turned to day. An axe gleamed silvery blue, light shimmered off mail and plate, and beneath the dark hood of the lead rider Brienne glimpsed an iron snout and rows of steel teeth, snarling.

Gendry saw it too. "Him."

While there is no emphasis on the “him” when Gendry sees the Hound’s helm, it’s an abrupt and emotionless statement.  It’s one word without emphasis but it conveys a lot.  Gendry recognizes the Hound’s helm and it’s apparent he’s not happy, thinking that it was indeed the Hound for a minute.  And while I’m trying to avoid discussing symbolism, I just can’t ignore how the lightning that cracked in the south could also be symbolic of Gendry’s true mood.  He is, after all, a bastard Baratheon, connected to the storm, the fury - thunder and lightning - as well as sharing a connection to the god, Thor in our mythology.  This lightning could symbolically be linked to Gendry’s anger and vengeance.  So why does Gendry act like this when he sees who he thinks is the Hound again?  He had no issue with the Hound during his trial by combat, so what changed?  The Hound kidnapped Arya.  And while he knows Arya didn’t die at the Red Wedding, he and the Brotherhood aren’t entirely sure if the Hound sold Arya to the Lannister’s and if she is now Arya Bolton.  So it makes complete sense why he would have issues with the Hound.  In fact I think a lot of this behavior we are seeing from Gendry is the direct result of the Hound kidnapping Arya and not knowing if she’s dead or being brutally raped and tortured in the North.

Why do I think this?  Because this behavior began between Arya being kidnapped in ASOS and Brienne VII AFFC.  Only a few to a handful of months have passed since then.  This, I believe, is the inciting incident.  Another reason why I believe Arya is the reason is because of what he is doing.  He is staying at the Crossroads Inn, one of the last known places Arya was sighted, and he’s helping take care of orphaned children.  Arya took in strays as well and cared for them, like Weasel.  And considering how Gendry in ACOK wanted to leave Weasel and Hot Pie and Lommy behind, it’s interesting to see that he’s helping by taking in strays himself now, as if he thinks he may be able to atone for not saving Arya.  Another reason is because the Brotherhood is actively searching for Arya as well.  She is ever present on their minds.  So yes, I believe part of Gendry’s change has to do with losing Arya, which goes to show how much he really cared about her.  Not to mention (a tiny bit more symbolism, oopsie!), Gendry’s stay at the inn, waiting for Arya to return (I believe Gendry and the BWB are hoping that Arya is alive and will return to the inn) is a romantic aspect to the mythology of Weyland the Smith and his Swan Maiden/Valkyrie, and the aspect about the Brotherhood + Gendry searching the realm for Arya is also a romantic Cinderella motif, hence why I feel Gendry’s behavior here is supposed to have romantic subtext.

*

Extra:  Another interesting aspect that I think foreshadows this future relationship is the meaning of Gendry’s name.  Gendry is a nickname type of surname for a person who has inherited his family estates from his father-in-law, deriving its origin from the Old French word “gendre,” which meant “son-in-law.”  And as we know if Arya and Gendry married when they were older, Arya wouldn’t be taking his name, but he hers, due to her higher status.  So by marrying into the Stark family, he would be inheriting from his father-in-law Ned so to speak, even if it’s just inheriting the surname.

So this is everything I’ve compiled so far about Gendrya, that relies on just their foreshadowing and romantic undertones in the texts we have available but I’m positive I’ll be adding more to this list once TWOW officially releases.  However, I still have a lot more to share that focuses on their symbolism and motifs throughout the story, so I’m definitely not done making Gendrya meta, far from it and I can’t wait to share it with you all!  

And if anyone is interested in Arya’s and by extension Gendrya’s Cinderella motifs, you can find it at this link:  A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes.

[celestialevie]

Sunshine // Charlie Weasley x Healer! reader

(Not my GIF, credit goes to the creator) Genre: fluff with tiny bit of angst words: 1.7k warnings: cursing, like one sentence of smut (so 16+ please), kissing, idiots being oblivious about their feelings, mentions of second degree burn, mentions of broken ankles etc. Summary: Being in love with your childhood best friend is never easy, no matter how much love there is. A/N: This is gender-neutral fic don't mind the gif also, please keep in mind English is not my first language. If there are any mistakes, please let me know. And also thank you so much again for the 100 followers!! Hope you enjoy the fic

Working at your dream job with your childhood best friend has been the absolute dream. Even though you just started working at the sanctuary recently, you’re already loving it. And how could you not when Charlie Weasley has been nothing but supportive and making sure you’re comfortable with everything. Until very recently, you’ve been working at St. Mungo’s since your apprenticeship ended, when Charlie told you that people at the sanctuary are looking for another healer to work in case something happens with the wizards working there. While it did break your heart to leave your two other best friends, Tonks and Penny, you couldn’t pass up on the opportunity to be even closer to Charlie. Everyone around you two knew your feelings for each other, while the two of you kept being oblivious to each other's feelings, not wanting to ruin your friendship. Doing this job wasn’t that hard, healing a few burns here and there, twisted ankles etc. Charlie would find excuses to go and see you, even if it wasn’t actually anything wrong with him. You’ve known Charlie since the first year of Hogwarts, when you ran into him on the train. And honestly, seeing him then, you should’ve known you would’ve caught feelings for him. Red hair and blue eyes, freckles all over his face. Who can blame you? Your thoughts have been interrupted when you heard a knock on your office door. ‘’ Come in! ‘’ you yelled as Charlie opened the door. ‘’ Hi sunshine ‘’ he smiled at you. ‘’ Should’ve known it was you. Are you injured, or did you just come to bother me? ‘’ You ask him with a smile on your face.’’ Actually injured. Baby dragon decided to give me attitude by breathing fire on my hand. ‘’ he approaches you and places himself on a bed meant for patients. Taking his hand in yours, you see the very much visible burn marks on his hand. ‘’ It’s only a second degree burn, thankfully, nothing a little of burn-healing paste can’t cure. I’ll apply it and then wrap it up so that it doesn’t accidentally budge or wipe off. In no matter of time, your hand will be as good as knew and ready for another baby dragon or maybe even mother dragon to burn it again. But please don’t actually get burnt again on that hand if possible or anywhere. Molly would throw a fit if she knew how much of your scars and injuries I heal. ‘’ You say as you grab the burn-healing paste and apply it to his hand and finish it off with wrapping a bandage around his hand. Gently tapping his cheek, he sighs and gets up. ‘’ Thank you sunshine, you’re my saviour. ‘’ he exaggerates while kissing your cheek, and he’s on his way out of your office. What you didn’t know is while healing and inspecting his wound, he finally decided he’ll act up on his feelings. But for that, he’ll need help from one person who’s been helping him ignore his feelings for you. Going back to his place, he quickly wrote a note and sent his owl to that person letting them know to come over to his place asap. A couple of hours have passed before he heard knocking on his door. Opening his door, he saw that they were wearing the same outfit they usually did when they were meeting up. ‘’ Sorry it took me a while to come over, I was at work. ‘’ Charlie gulped and let them in. ‘’ It’s no problem, let’s get this over with and honestly this will probably be the last time we meet up like this, Anna… I decided to stop being a coward and acknowledge my feeling for y/n and do something about them. ‘’ he smiled and at his words Anna’s lips stretched into a wide smile. ‘’ Charlie, that’s amazing! I’m happy for you, god, I wish I could do the same about my feelings for Peter. ‘’ her smile faded a bit and a frown replaced it. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her passionately, leading her towards the couch and slowly lowering her down on it while not breaking the kiss. Pulling off the coat, he knew she had only underwear underneath it. Slowly kissing down her neck and gently biting into it, wanting to hear her moans, he knew he pulled out of her every time they meet up like this. Lowering himself and kissing down her chest, sucking on

her sweet skin he’s got so familiar with recently. As he took of her bra, and started sucking on her nipples, the door of his cabin opened, and he swears the time stopped for him when he heard y/n’s voice when they interrupted something. ‘’ Hey Charlie….oh I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt. Please continue, I’m going to go…’’ before he could even muster up a word, they apparated away somewhere. ‘’ FUCK! ‘’ He yelled as he got off of Anna and helped her get dressed. ‘’ Go find her, you idiot! Don’t just scream and shout! You should go find her and tell her everything. I’ll go home. ‘’ Anna yelled at him Giving Anna a small kiss on the cheek as an apology, he quickly tried to think of a place y/n could’ve gone to. The first thing he did was run to her house and started knocking on their door. When they didn’t answer the door, he went to their office. When he tried to enter it, the door was locked, so he knocked a couple of times before moving on to a different location. He remembered showing her a special spot by the lake, which he accidentally found when he first moved to Romania. Quickly imagining that place in his head, he apparated there, and that’s when he spotted them. Sitting by the lake and throwing small rocks at it. Taking a deep breath, he approached them.

‘’ Hey sunshine. ‘’ at the sound of his voice, they raised their head and looked behind them. ‘’ Charlie, hey…’’ clearing his throat, he slowly approached them. ‘’ Mind if I sit down next to you? Been looking around to find you. Just want to explain something to you and then after that I can leave you alone if that’s what you wish for. ‘’ they nodded their head and gently patted a spot next to them. Charlie sat down. ‘’ Can I just say before you start, I’m sorry for walking in your house without knocking or even letting you know I’ll stop by. Didn’t mean to interrupt you and Anna in your private business.’’ their voice was on the verge of breaking because god-damn did their heart break when they saw Charlie and Anna in the middle of whatever they were doing. ‘’ Oh god no sunshine, you have nothing to apologize for. If anything, it’s me who needs to apologize to you. I am so fucking sorry you saw that. But I need to explain that whole situation and for you to understand it I need you to listen to every word I say. Anna and I were nothing more than just fuck buddies. To just try and forget about all the pain in our hearts that we both felt. We never saw each other as more than occasional fuck buddies who were looking to feel something. Her heart is longing for someone else, and so does mine. Sunshine, I know that what you saw probably hurt you more than you’d like to admit to yourself and to me. God, I wish you didn’t see me and her, but….’’ he stops, taking your hands into his and looking into your eyes. My heart only longs and wishes for you, sunshine. God, I’ve never been more in love with someone more than I am in you. If you’re in love with me too or at least have some romantic feelings for me, it would make me the happiest man in the world. If you wish to stay only friends with me, I completely understand, I promise I won’t let my feelings for you ruin our friendship. You mean way too much to me for me to only ruin it because of some stupid feelings. You’re the most important person in my life. You can say what you wish to say now. ‘’ Charlie was preparing for the worse, but what he didn’t expect is for you to start crying. Noticing the panicking look in his eyes, you quickly reassure him. ‘’ No, no, don’t panic, these are the happy and frustrated tears. Penny and Tonks will be over the moon once I let them know they were right about the two of us all this time. ‘’ A small laugh escapes your lips. ‘’ I’ve been in love with you, Charlie, probably since the moment I first met you on the train. All these times I’ve told myself you only saw me as your best friend, how could you ever see me romantically. But I guess I was wrong. ‘’ you wipe away your tears as Charlie looks at you with so much love in his eyes. ‘’ Oh sunshine, I’ve never been happier to see someone laugh. ‘’ you pull him into a hug, never wanting to let him go. He pulls a little away only to press him lips onto yours. The kiss was never sweeter, wanting to keep kissing you for the rest of his life.

BONUS:

When both Penny and Tonks received a letter from you, they didn’t expect anything unusual. But what they received was the happiest news they’ve been wanting to hear since probably fifth year of Hogwarts. Charlie and you were officially together. Just like you expected, you received one big howler from them. ‘’ CHARLES WEASLEY AND Y/F/N L/N HOW DARE YOU ANNOUNCE THE NEWS WE’VE BEEN WANTING TO HEAR JUST CASUALLY IN THE LETTER. I EXPECTED BETTER FROM YOU TWO!! ‘’ Penny screamed, but Tonks was only laughing in the background. ‘’ As soon as we can, Penny and I will come over to the Romania and keep telling y/n ‘ I told you so ‘’ because I TOLD YOU SO YOU DUMB IDIOT! ‘’ Tonks yelled, and all you could do was laugh at Charlie’s shocked and kind of terrified face. Penny can be a bit scary when she wanted to be, and he definitely experienced Penny’s wrath back in Hogwarts. ‘’ Well, they seem to like the news. ‘’ you laughed as you pulled Charlie into a kiss.

[outarizaki]

Lovesick. — Levi Ackerman.

SYNOPSIS: In a world infested with mindless, horrendous human-chomping titans, you’d never expected that Levi taking care of you was how you’d go out.

WC: 2.3k

PAIRING: Levi Ackerman x Reader

GENRE: Fluff

A/N: this is my first time writing for levi/aot in general and just overall my first time in a long time from doing creative writing i hope you guys like it!

In truth, Winter has never been your most favorite time of the year.

After all, those delicious hot meals, thick blankets, and cozy naps by the fireplace always came with a price for you every single year, wherein the same chilly weather that granted you those several pleasures only betrayed you and bit you in the ass annually, reeling you in again and again for recurring nightmarish sicknesses.

For as long as you remember, you’ve never fared well with such drastic change in weather. Ever since you were a little girl, your fevers were sky high enough to make your mother lose at least a year off her life with every time they checked your temperature around the dreaded season.

Thus even now, as a distinguished and mighty cadet in the Scout Regiment, there you lay, thrashing in wrinkled sheets with a spiking fever of 103° Fahrenheit.

It was quite an unraveling series of events. Perhaps you should have let it be known much earlier to your squad and superiors.

Maybe they would have taken your sudden, voracious collapse against a blushing Jean in the mess hall a little less seriously.

You could still recall those same goofy shrieks of surprise from your squad members with a grin. The look on Connie’s face was absolutely priceless.

But as you stared up at the ceiling, sweat beading at your hairline and mouth clammy with dehydration, your mind could only render and wring out the possible reactions that could have emitted from your Captain Levi.

Ever since you joined the squad, you’d been naturally drawn and fond of him. His cold demeanor seemed to be just a thin layer between a complex personality, and as much as you hated to admit, you desperately, secretly wanted to claw underneath that sheen.

It started with one sleepless night in which you brought yourself to the kitchen to rid yourself of your heavy mind with a book, only to find your captain sitting idly with a cup of tea.

You remembered the first encounter, how you babbled apologies like some sort of nitwit and he scowled and waved you off, uttering an, “it’s not like I own the damn room, quit being an idiot and do what you need,” before you dejectedly nodded and took a seat with a book just some feet away from him.

The insomnia seemed to grow only more and more, and a few more awkward nightly greetings later, it became a routine. He slowly began to acknowledge you, humming short replies and holding small talks every now and then.

Then on the field and during training he mindlessly complimented you. In his own way, of course.

A grumble of, “you didn’t get killed,” or, “you didn’t look like complete shit out there,” were some hearty examples of that.

Time went on as you began to loosen up even more around the squad, shamelessly poking fun at your members and joking around with them constantly. Even berating the Captain every now and then with snarky remarks that earned hesitant chuckles and gasps from your team, and even sometimes, if you looked really closely, a smirk from the Captain himself.

So with your poor little heart, ready to yearn, there was a spark of fondness towards him. One you wish would smother before it fanned out even more.

Damn him.

You wondered what he had thought when he saw you faint atop of Jean, that poor boy. How ridiculous you must have looked. How humiliating it must have been.

“God, I could die,” you groan aloud and fling your body on your side, hands coming to grasp at the roots of your scalp.

“That is quite an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

That voice. Speak of the devil.

Instantly, you spring up to meet his gunmetal gaze, hissing at the speed that caused your brain to seemingly rattle in your head with fatigue.

He tsks his tongue, brows furrowing together in an unamused manner as he walks towards the table across your bed. You swallow gently, gaze averting to the tray he holds with a small teapot, one teacup, and liquid medicine. You grimace.

“Oi...” Levi begins without looking back at you. You look to his stature expectantly. “You look like shit,” he says, finally twisting his torso to lock with your gaze.

A breathy, sarcastic laugh escapes your lips.

“Gee, you have such a way with words, Captain Suave,” you croak out with a roll of your eyes before easing your posture, allowing yourself to slouch.

“Don’t call me that.”

With his back faced to you once more, Levi feigns an aggravated grumble, yet the ghost of a grin still resides on his face. You watch in silence as he begins to move around the things on the tray.

You take your time to drink in the sight. His raven undercut, bangs slightly covering his handsome face, his white button-up rolled up at the sleeves showing off his veiny forearms, his black pants and leather shoes, the look of faint concentration on his sculpted face as he pours the contents of the teapot into the cup... and God, his hands. So slender and delicate, his fingers nice and long and—

Shit. What are you doing?

You take a deep breath and compose yourself in time before he turns at you again, bored look on his face as he approaches you with a cup of tea and the tiny bottle of medicine.

“Never thought I’d have to babysit one of my most promising Cadets,” Levi drawls out, handing you the teacup. Your fingers graze against his as you accept it, breath hitching in your throat slightly.

You fight off the gooey feeling by occupying yourself with his crude words.

Scoffing, you take a small sip of your tea, only to frown at the feeling of hotness. Levi’s brow arches in question.

“Who said you had to, Captain?” You say softly. “You’re busy. Why didn’t you ask Sasha to come instead? She would have brought me some good food, too.”

“Stolen you food, you mean. And what? You don’t like my tea?” He husks out, to which you perk up in realization.

Quickly, you shake your head to deny his question. “The tea is lovely. But I’m pretty sure my body is hotter than that teapot, and quite frankly the warmth feels suffocating,” you preach.

“Plus, you’re busy. And I look — indecent. You said it yourself,” you whisper the last part shyly, gulping down another sip of tea.

Levi feels taken aback. Surely you hadn’t taken offense to his comment, right? Brat, he thinks to himself.

“Tea is good for when you’re sick. You’re nauseated. Did you expect us to give you some sweet or cold crap while you have a fever?” He says sharply, squinting slightly.

You chuckle a bit at that.

Waving your hand, you grumble. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” you roll your eyes.

“Quit rolling your eyes at me.”

“Quit giving me a reason to.”

“Oh, you want me to give you a reason to roll your eyes back, Cadet?”

Your gaze widens and you feel yourself choke on your tea.

Your arm bolts to set your cup onto the nightstand and you glare up at him. You swear you see the faintest hint of amusement glint in those stupid grey eyes of his.

Suddenly, you’re feeling a little too hot. And you’re sure it’s not your fever.

Levi raises his brows, unimpressed as he leans forward. Slowly, he brings his hand to your forehead and presses his cold fingers against you. You feel your heart stutter in your chest, holding in your breath.

“You’re burning up.”

Wow, I wonder why.

“Yea? Tell me about it. I’m literally feeling all of it as we speak, old man.”

He clicks his tongue in irritation, straightening his back before jolting his arm at you with the bottle expectantly. “You’re better off holding your tongue, Cadet. Now take your medicine.”

Your face scrunches up. He narrows his eyes as you cross your arms and look elsewhere.

“L/N.”

“No.”

“Now.”

“No! It tastes gross.”

His eye twitches at your defiance.

“God, this is like talking to a little kid. Take it or I swear-“

“No.”

“Take the damn medicine. And that’s an order, Cadet.”

You look up at him with a scowl. Hesitantly, you take the bottle before unscrewing it, taking your sweet time until finally you down it reluctantly.

Meanwhile, your Captain stands with his arms crossed, albeit satisfied that you finally listened.

Once it goes down your throat, you gag slightly.

“God, this shit is vile-“

“Language.”

“It’s worse than what we usually take! What is this?”

“Higher grade medicine. I had to ask Erwin and a few of the nurses for even just that small dosage, you damn brat. I need you back on your feet ASAP.”

You blink. He went through trouble just to get you medicine? A fond grin starts to stretch on your lips.

“Thank y-“

“Don’t thank me. It’s my job to keep my Cadets at their best,” he practically half-lies through his teeth.

Oh. Right.

You nod, that fluttery feeling slightly dampening at his words. Of course. You’re just a young woman in his squad. His subordinate.

Levi notices. He doesn’t say anything.

“Now get some rest. I’ll clean up your room. It’s filth in here,” He scrunches his nose.

“Maybe ‘cause I’m sick, smarta- I mean, Captain,” you slur drowsily as you plop down onto the pillows. Whatever you took, it was strong.

The look on his face affirms he didn’t take lightly to your potential word vomit, though he allows to let it slide, much to your favor.

Levi groans, tidying up the teacups and the pile of clothes by the baskets, as well as the used bedsheets. He stops to think what in the hell he’s doing, going out of his way to care for one soldier.

He chalks it up to it simply being a better option than the inevitable mountains of paperwork he has to face later. That was it. Right?

A moderate amount of time had passed until he was satisfied with what he’d done. Levi’s eyes avert to your tiny figure on the bed. Laying flat on your back, arms sprawled beside your head, a dreamy smile on your lips.

The man walks up beside your bed. When you suddenly shift your head towards him, he startles a bit.

A breathy, twinkly giggle leaves your mouth as you look up at him. Levi swears he can feel his heartbeat in his ears.

You pout playfully, pointing an accusatory finger up at him. “Stalker. Are you here to watch me sleep?” You say almost so incoherently, Levi isn’t sure you’re speaking a language.

He can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips at your change of demeanor. So out of character, even for you.

The pout on your lips soon curves into a sleepy grin of your own, and your eyes gloss over with something that makes your Captain’s breath hitch in his throat.

Such gentle, comforting fondness.

When you urge him to get closer, he obliges, slightly bending over your figure despite the rouge in his cheeks. Levi holds his breath as you reach up, fingers threading through his bangs to pull them back.

“You’re pretty when you smile, you know?” You whisper gently, the smile never fading from your obviously far-gone face. “Such a handsome boy.”

Heat rises even more to Levi’s face and he gulps thickly as he watches your arms begin to drop, eyelids following soon after.

A delighted, snoozing hum releases from your throat, and only then does Levi allow himself to breathe.

His eyes glance over you once more.

Soft cheeks, pretty eyes, long eyelashes. The tank top on your torso still allowing you to look like the most stunning thing he’s ever seen. The unruly bed-head hair that sat messily, yet still appearing soft to the touch, making him want to rake his fingers through. Your soft lips, still stuck in that smile. Your flushed face.

Levi sighs dreamily and defeatedly. He brings his hand up to pat at the top of your head.

“Shitty girl,” he says underneath his breath, voice cracking like that of a young boy with an unwavering crush. “You look — decent.”

His brows knit together even more as he thinks it over, finally sighing gently.

“You’re much prettier, Y/N,” he whispers, mostly to himself.

Levi then exits your room, his face still hot with fluster, hands shoved into his pockets, and the giddy feeling in his heart still reigning supreme.

And at the corner of the hall reside the Levi Squad members, spying from afar.

“You owe me your next lunch, Connie. I told you they liked each other!”

“Shut up before he hears you!” Jean scolds quietly.

“Oi,” a voice sounds from behind them unexpectedly.

They all freeze. Their blood turns cold. Armin is sure he’s as good as dead.

“Give me fifty laps outside. All of you. Now.”

“Not bad after feeling shitty for so long,” Levi nods at you as you return from combat training for the day.

You smile brightly, eyes twinkling as you catch your breath.

“Mhm. All because of you. Thanks for-“

“Don’t thank me.”

“I said,” you say firmly. “Thank you for taking care of me. You didn’t have to.”

Levi can only sigh and nod. “Sure.”

You beam at that, beginning to stride past him, before stopping midway.

“Oh, and Captain?” You begin.

He grunts in response, slightly turning your way with that same stoic expression.

“For the record,” you hum sweetly. “I think you’re the prettiest.”

And with that you walk away with a proud smirk, leaving Humanity’s Strongest with a pounding heart and the reddest cheeks mankind has ever seen.

[quarthly]

Twilight characters as random animals that I think are oddly fitting

(Also yes, I am roasting the animals as well)

Edward: He would be a Cheetah. Now I know, seems like a cop out just because of his speed but hear me out. Cheetahs are, at face value, pretty cool. They used to be my favorite animal as a child, but then I grew up.

Cheetahs, through no fault of their own, are severely inbred. Now thats mainly because of poaching, but the cheetas anxiety also comes into play. In captivity, cheetahs are usually given emotional support dogs. I will admit it is cute but it negatively affects the population. Excluding one in the wild, cheetas can be to anxious to breed and thats not good for conservation efforts.

Cheetahs can hit up to 80 miles per hour in a couple of seconds. They are designed for fast running and agility. Their claws are similar to that of a dogs for better traction and they have elongated spines for longer strides. They have a thin build, long legs and a long tail for balance.

This has downsides though. Many times after making a kill, it will get stolen for them by larger predators. Thats right, they get absolutely bodied by the other animals. I should probably make these shorter but I'm on a rant now, so I guess this will be semi educational.

Throughout the series, we see Edward over estimated his abilities and value, constantly getting bodied by others. He's essentially a perfect mormon, though thats on S'meyers. He constantly judges others, dehumanizing them to their baser flaws, without doing any self reflecting. Him viewing himself as a monster doesn't really count to me. While he definitely hates himself, the only thing he is truly demonizing is being a vampire.

Bella: Picking up from Edwards, Bella is a Chocolate Labrador. Yes, she is his therapy dog. I feel like this is really fitting for her. I know Golden retriever would make more sense, as thats the most common breed for service animals. However, I kind of focused on her appearance. Only at first though! I just know that Edward raved about her human qualities and that would pass over as animals as well. Her chocolate eyes and brown fur, very average and boring. Thats essentially Bella. Even Edward wasn't into her until he got a wiff. Labradors a very loyal dogs and while they have more personality than Bella, I just couldn't shake it. Their also very stupid. Ok that's kind of mean, they're not stupid but when it comes to love, then yeah they are stupid.

I used to have a lab, loved him to death, but god he was something else. Very much danger prone, from their own stupidity or their lack of survival instincts. I know that labs are almost aquatic. They love water, swimming, all that jazz. We can just say that bella has a few screws loose in her dna and is just "not like other labs."

Rosalie: Now she was hard. There are quite a few animals that I think would fit for her. I'll list the other ones, but that one I went with is the Swan. Like Edward, seems a little on the nose, but I have my reasoning.

I was going to pick a predator for her, as she is shown to be very vengeful and viscous. I would have pick some type of cat, most likely a purebred, from a rich family. It could still work, but the swan just speaks to me on this one.

Swan's are known for being beautiful, graceful, and are pictured as the symbol of love. They are also very vain. Edward constantly brings up Rosalies vanity. She was constantly valued for her beauty as a human, so of course that crossed over in the transformation. She was raised to be married into wealth, she was used as a bargaining chip to increase the family's standing.

Rose has a very strong character and makes her opinions known. She's assertive and aggressive at times. She's not afraid to get dirty.

Swans mate for life and like geese, are known for being great parents. I was also going to choose geese as an option for the maternal instincts. I was wary at first because swans can be really aggressive. Like actually, you think geece are bad? Yikes bestie...

I was conflicted because swans are known for drowning dogs and sometimes people. However, I can actually see Rose drowning Bella. It's not that unbelievable lmao.

Emmett: Now this one is just ironic. I only associate him with bears. Its inevitable, but picking a Grizzly or Black bear is too obvious. So I went a slightly different route...

So I was going to pick the Sun bear just because of looks alone. Like, I'm not exaggerating, it looks like someone wearing a bear costume. I don't think it fits him but I know for a fact that he would dress up as a sun bear and sneak into a zoo to see if anyone would notice. I'll put a pic of it here

Like look at this thing. I have no words...

Anyway, what I picked was a Sloth Bear. Now Sloth bears are mostly nocturnal, which either way works consider vamps don't sleep. Their diet is also odd but honestly so is the cullens. They're native to the Indian subcontinent, and are known for being aggressive towards humans. Its said that for the most part they're pretty calm, so I think its just fear of humans that make them act aggressively. Honestly, that's a good thing because they are listed as vulnerable on the IUCN Red list.

They have some similarities with sloths, which is where they get the name. They have long claws and unusual teeth. They are known to hang upside down from tree branches, and is described as having a messy appearance. Honestly, Emmitt has a messy personality. Sorry bestie but you're a lot of work.

Now heres the biggest reason for choosing this bear. Aside from Baloo from the jungle book being a sloth bear, they are known to run fades with Tigers. Honestly, how fucking badass is that!? Now I don't think there are recorded instances of a Sloth bear killing a Tiger, but when push comes to shove, they can hold their own and I find that incredibly impressive.

Carlisle: This one was somehow the easiest as well as the toughest. I know Owl seems like the obvious choice, and I can see it. However, I believe Carlisle values emotional intelligence as much or if not more than academic intelligence. He is so charismatic and values other's above himself. He might not be as Saint like as Edward thinks, but he does try and I think he genuinely cares about others. For that reason alone, I choose a Elephant.

Elephant's are very social animals and are extremely intelligent. I could rave about them for ages, I love them so much.

Now elephants live in a familial unit and are usually matriarchal. Bulls usually are on the outer edges of the herd or form little groups with other males. Honestly, they're not that bad aside from when their in musk.

In the group of males, the elder ones will teach the younger where to get the best food, water, how to use things as tools, and every other thing that will increase their odds of survival. This is really cute to me tbh, they do this because the females usually choose the older males because they've proved that they are intelligent and strong, that they have survived and will continue to for awhile. Teaching the younger males these things are to make the odds of them getting chosen to mate more likely. The whole unit just reminds me of a father that has to deal with rowdy teens.

Carlisle likes to take in strays, he might not have a herd but he will make one and teach them to thrive. That's how he envisions it anyway. He just has a found family and is trying his best.

Esme: Now this might seem like an insult, but I promise it's not! This is in no way misogynistic. I love cattle and ever since I took animal science in highschool, I have appreciated these grass puppies like they deserve. Call me Castro because I love cows.

Yup! I chose a Cow for her. Specifically a beef cow. That might sound weird but its because beef cows have higher maternal instinct than dairy cows. I'm thinking Scottish Highland based on vibes alone.

They are nicknamed the Gentle Giants of Scotland. Super maternal and sweet and ugh look how cute they are!

Esme came from a abusive marriage and had just lost her child, she was depressed and desperate. Her changing was, in a way, salvation. She just fits in. She adopts all these strays along with him and will protect them to the death. She might be gentle by nature, but don't fuck with her family. She lost her first one and she isn't going to lose this one.

Alice: She's an odd one. There are so many possibilities and maybe I'm biased, but I feel like she would be a Crow.

Ok listen, I'm definitely biased but it just feels right. Crows get a bad rap, they are so cool! They are so intelligent and have the ability to actually sit and think about the past, prest, and future. I forget what its called, but this was only seem in humans! Maybe other apes, I can't remember exactly, but either way its awesome. They do live in groups, or murders, and remember people and faces. They remember locations and are able to pass down information through generations. They essentially have their own language! They are able to use tools too!

Alice's story is really sad. When we first meets her, it revolves around the death of her mother and her institutionalized. She was essentially tortured and forgot everything from her past. All she had was the future and even that wasn't constant. Crows a often viewed as omens, they are associated with death. I personally believe that instead of being the cause, they just know something is going to happen. They are very inquisitive and can be creative.

If you befriend a murder of crows, sometimes, depends or the group, they will bring gifts. Its can range from food to shiny metals and colorful plastic. Hell, I think I've seen a post of one stealing things from people just to gift it to their human.

Alice's love language is gifts. Even if they are focused around fashion, she still goes out of her way to get something that will look good and at least be a little comfortable. By that I mean she tends to forget peoples comfort zones, but she means well.

Jasper: Honestly not to sure what to put for him. I know a predator would be more fitting, but for some reason I can see a donkey working. I know, seems like I'm clowning on the confederate. Fair, but I'm serious about the donkey thing. Honestly, it would be perfect if it wasn't a herbivore. Porcupine would also work.

Being a predator would make more sense. Given his backstory and his characterization, it wouldn't make sense for him to be a prey animal. Usually I wouldn't count this, but given his gore filled past and trouble with the diet, it seemed fitting.

I see him as a Big Cat. Honestly, vamps in general just give cat vibes. Jasper though especially have some cat like qualities, which originates from hunting and being a soldier.

I specifically see him as a Mountain Lion. Aside from him being blonde, he just has the predatory stealth to him. In midnight sun, we see him use his gift to make the nomads overlook him. He's honestly really powerful.

Mountain lions are known for being stealthy with an air of grace and power to them. They are stong animals. And I mean strong. They can jump 40-45 feet.

They're very elusive and quite. They stalk their prey and tend to attack from behind but don't think they won't hold their ground if need be.

Jasper was changed during the Civil War and forced to fight in the Newborn wars. He was a soldier as a human and as a vampire. He's able to feel and manipulate others emotions. He's covered in scars and is very intimidating.

He still struggles with the diet and honestly I hate how the others handle it. Like they have no room to talk. I don't want to defend the confederate but it just pisses me off. He has to deal with his hunger on top of everyone else's. Like damn, besties always on edge! Everyone doubts him which I don't think helps any.

Also, Mountain lions and Cheetahs can purr!

@aquanova99 I'll do a Volturi one too. That one will be fun lmao

[the-lone-witch-and-secret-room]

On Boschlow, Skarlow and imaginary moral superiority

Alright, before anyone wants to yell at me for putting this in the ship tags, this is less an “anti ship”-post and more of an “I want to have this conversation with shippers because I think it’s important to talk about this”-post.

So, Boschlow has always been a fairly popular ship in the fandom, which doesn’t really surprise me, because the whole bully/victim dynamic is just incredibly popular, no matter which fandom you enter.

As a person that got bullied throughout the majority of my high school years, I have thoughts about this dynamic being so popular in general, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss today.

Recently, there has been an increasing number of Skarlow shippers making art and writing fics.

What makes this so different from Boschlow?

Essentially... nothing, and that’s exactly why I felt the need to make a post about this.

I’ve seen a bunch of Skarlow shippers say they do not ship Boschlow because Boscha is an awful person, putting themselves above the Boschlow shippers and making Skarlow a “superior” dynamic, based on... what, exactly?

From my perspective, there’s exactly two things Skara has on Boscha when it comes to shipping her with Willow. One being, she hasn’t thrown trash on her—which is an incredibly low bar to set.

The other thing? Skara acknowledged Willow’s Grudgby skills at the end of WILW.

And that’s a scene that gets misinterpreted a lot. See, people take Skara being nice to Willow here as a sign that she’s a way better person than Boscha, that she’s changed, and so on and so forth.

But this is untrue.

What exactly is it that changes between the beginning of WILW and the ending of the episode, between Willow and Skara specifically? It’s that Skara has seen Willow is good at Grudgby. Grudgby is something of value to Skara, thus, Willow’s skills impressing her makes Willow someone worthy of being treated well.

The ending of the Grudgby episode isn’t everyone except Boscha suddenly magically being better people. They’re all still very much bullies. They’re just now seeing Willow as someone who is better than other people because of her skills—and should therefore be treated better.

Boscha isn’t as willing to share her imaginary pedestal with Willow. But that’s the only difference. All the Grudgby girls are currently still on that pedestal. They’re just seeing Willow as someone worth sharing it with now. If they saw someone being “weak” the way they thought Willow to be previously to the match, they’d bully that person the same way they did Willow.

This isn’t any of them being better. This is all of them behaving the same way they always have. Willow is just moving up in their social hierarchy.

It shouldn’t take being good at some magical sport, or being a talented witch, or whatever the heck, to decide not to bully someone. NOBODY deserves to be bullied. Even the weakest, least sporty witch of the Boiling Isles should be treated with the same amount of respect as any of their classmates. Your value as a person shouldn’t be defined by how good you are at something. You have value no matter what you are and aren’t good at. And that’s something Skara and the others still fail to acknowledge.

Also I think it’s worth noting that even when they were treating Willow better at the end of the episode, they didn’t go out of their way to apologize for how they’d treated her before. They acknowledged her skills and don’t at all comment on how they treated her previously to the match.

If it takes some huge effort from Willow and her friends for the Grudgby girls to treat her with even an ounce of respect, that’s not character development. Character development would be them changing their general behavior. Acknowledging the way they’ve treated others was shitty, apologizing for that and actually working on being better. Is there a possibility this might happen? Sure. But you guys basically pretend WILW is their redemption arc already fully done. You’re giving Skara and the others credit for something that currently haven’t even happened.

And the option of them ditching Boscha (which also currently hasn’t happened) wouldn’t be a redemption arc either, even if it could be part of one.

Cutting toxic people out of your life can help, but Amity’s redemption arc was that, plus her explaining herself to Willow and giving Willow time, and actually acting on her word of not letting her friends pick on her again. Amity making it up to Willow wasn’t that she cut out Boscha and Skara. It was that she not only promised to be better but acted accordingly, standing at Willow’s side when she needed her.

(And Skara not constantly being a dipshit when she’s in the background is not a valid argument for why she’s a better person than Boscha. Boscha is also a harmless character when the episode isn’t focused on her, e.g. in Covention & Sense and Insensitivity. That Skara isn’t actively bullying her friends—which, uh, most people like their friends? This shouldn’t be that surprising?—is not a thing that should earn her any points in being “nicer” than Boscha.)

Do I think it might be a bit easier to get through to Skara than Boscha when it comes to letting go of current behaviors? Possibly.

From the way their characters are written and with how Boscha refuses to acknowledge Willow as equal even after the Grudgby match, it’s fairly obvious that it would need some pretty major event to get through to her. There’s an extra step here with Boscha (needing to learn to acknowledge others as having equal value to herself) that Skara doesn’t need to take.

BUT that one step in what should be a fairly long journey for either of them is far from enough to justify one ship being better than the other.

From the way I’ve seen it written (and unfortunately also experienced it in the comment section of my own fic), a bunch of skarlow shippers like to excuse Skara’s behavior by entirely pinning it on Boscha, pretending she’s actually a great person and that it’s only her friendship with Boscha that makes her toxic—and also that Boscha is the only one that should be held accountable for everyone’s behavior.

I am not exaggerating, I got a comment that essentially said “this shows wonderfully that Amelia and Skara are actually good people that unfortunately met a horrible person that had too much control over them.”

This strips Skara and Amelia of any accountability for their actions. And the idea of Boscha being an evil mastermind that forced all her friends into doing things they never wanted is... quite frankly, stupid, and also untrue. Skara actively encourages Boscha making fun of Willow at the beginning of Understanding Willow:

In the same episode it’s also stated that Amity “let her new friends bully [Willow] for years”, which definitely includes Skara and isn’t just about Boscha.

Skara looks really pleased when Boscha takes Willow’s hair clip at the beginning of WILW, just appears bored and not at all sympathetic when she throws gum at Willow, and grins gleefully when Boscha suggests using the others as target practice later in the episode:

Also, in Once Upon A Swap, Boscha’s entire squad is messing with people all over Bonesborough. Skara is throwing monster balloons at the city when Boscha isn’t even present:

Not only that, but a very large portion of the episode has Skara and the others literally ditch Boscha in favor of an even meaner person (King in Luz’s body).

King states, and I quote, “Hey, impressionable youths! Under my command, you could learn how to do some real damage.” after unleashing a monster on the city. And the entire group cheers him on and decides to follow him.

If Skara was actually so much better than Boscha, why the heck would she run after someone that is worse than her when given the opportunity?

And here comes the thing that a lot of the Skarlow shippers refuse to acknowledge because they for some reason feel the need to have moral superiority over Boschlow shippers: Skara isn’t a nice girl. Skara is a bully. And Skara should be held accountable for her actions in the same way as Boscha. Saying everything she did was just Boscha forcing her is entirely untrue to canon and just a lame excuse to make your ship look better.

Boscha and Skara have both bullied Willow for several years. If you want to ship either of them with her, even if you just want one of them to be friends with her, that needs to be acknowledged and definitely not excused. Even if you treat Skara’s bullying of Willow as something she did only due to Boscha (which, again, is canonically complete nonsense), she’s still hurt Willow to pretty much the same extent as Boscha has.

That a person isn’t as into the bullying as someone else doesn’t make it hurt any less for the victim of the bullying.

No matter if you ship Skarlow or Boschlow, commit to the reality that Skara and Boscha are both Willow’s bullies. Quit pretending Skara is so much better than Boscha, or that she isn’t responsible for her actions.

She is just as responsible for bullying Willow for years as Boscha is.

I’m so sick of hearing how Skara’s bullying is far more redeemable than Boscha’s. It’s not. Stop declaring bullying that doesn’t get physical harmless. As someone who was “only” ever verbally bullied, let me tell you that after four years of not seeing that person I’m still scarred by it. Stop getting your head so stuck in high school movies. Just because not every kind of bullying involves someone getting shoved into a locker doesn’t mean it’s not harmful.

Even worse: the take that people are shipping Skarlow “because they realized shipping Willow with Boscha is inherently toxic”. Tell me again why this “revolutionary” movement deciding that Willow deserves better then turns around and ships her with another one of her bullies?

This isn’t about treating Willow better. You’re just making Boscha seem unreasonably evil for no reason, and treating Skara as her not at all responsible victim, so you can ship Willow with her and don’t have to acknowledge that Willow is a victim of both of their bullying.

This needs to stop. Skara needs to be held just as accountable as Boscha.

If a Skarlow shipper exclusively comes from a perspective of “I think their personalities would mix better”? Sure, whatever, they may or may not, but that’s a valid opinion to have. But don’t start shipping Skarlow because you think you’re being better to Willow than the Boschlow shippers.

This whole thing isn’t a movement to get Willow a better girlfriend, lol

Both of them bullied her. Both ships are bully/victim dynamics. Skarlow does not actually have any moral superiority over Boschlow. As much as you refuse to acknowledge this, these two ships share the same basic dynamic.

Stop pretending shipping Willow with one of her bullies is leagues better than shipping her with another.

[ignitedbynatsu]

Jealousy pt. 2

A/N: another update whatt 👀 here is the long awaited part 2 of jealousy! I hope you like it @softiebadbitch! I've written a couple more one shots, which are currenlty in my drafts, but I'm gonna be spreading them over the next couple weeks (at least try to because I'm so impatient af) since I have finals and not much time to come up with complete new story ideas.

Genre: maybe a bit of angst? Fluff

Warnings: some swearing, some doubt about the relationship

🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡 🗡🗡🗡 

He shouldn’t mind, he never spared it any thought before, so why did it bother him now so much? He’s used to your extreme friendliness, so why was it that he was only now getting annoyed by it? Was it because of Laxus? It couldn’t possibly be, he trusted the both of you with his whole heart. The only thing he was certain of was the fact that something didn’t sit right with him when he saw you and Laxus return from the job, shoving each other playfully around. He shouldn’t be surprised that you managed to crack Laxus, you had that effect on people after all, but for him also to break so easily? It just didn’t feel right.

“There you are!” your angelic voice filled his ears, and all of his worries he that had occupied his mind only seconds ago, suddenly seemed to vanish when you placed a short sweet kiss on his lips as a way of saying hello.

“How was the job?” Freed smiled down at you as he waited for you extravagant explanation you always gave when you returned from a mission.

“Laxus was totally exaggerating, he could’ve easily done the job by himself” You playfully roll your eyes at how he made it sound like you were the only one who could’ve helped him with the job “but it was fun! I finally got to see a more personal side of Laxus. I now truly understand why you admire him so much. He really is an amazing mage and surprisingly funny too!”

On the outside, the green-haired mage nodded along as you kept explaining all the ‘cool’ stuff Laxus did during the mission, while on the inside he wanted nothing more but for you to stop talking. He was acting petty, he knew it, he just couldn’t help himself “sounds like you two had a lot of fun, how about we end the day with a home-cooked meal and a movie?”

Freed was ready to leave these weird feelings behind and just bask in your love and affection, but you seemed to have other plans, quite literally for that matter “I would love to, but Laxus had already asked me to join him for some drinks to celebrate the success of the job”

“I see” he pressed his lips in a thin line as his eyes trailed towards the blonde mage. He knew he and his two other friends were planning something by the way they were talking and sneaking a glance at the two of you every so often. He just hadn’t quite figured out what. Did they have a bet that you wouldn’t be able to crack Laxus? Or was it something different?

He opted for the second option when Laxus appeared by your side, not sparing Freed even a glance “You ready to go?” The way Laxus hand rested on your lower back to guide you out of the guild, made the hairs on his arms stand up, but he refused to show any hint of annoyance.

“Bye, love, see you tonight!” You called out to Freed as you let Laxus guide you out of the guild.

The following days, the uneasy feeling never left Freed, in fact, it only got worse. He could feel his calm and composed act break, but he didn’t care. The anxiety and jealousy he was feeling were much more important than a stupid image. He still couldn’t wrap his head around what was going, and perhaps that was the most frustrating part of it all.

He shouldn’t feel jealous, he knows he shouldn’t. He knew you two would never do something to hurt you, he knew that deep down, and yet his mind kept playing tricks on him, sending him down the dark rabbit hole known as doubt.

It was only when Laxus willingly gave you a hug, that he decided he had enough “Okay, what the actual fuck is going on”

You were taken aback by the strong language coming out of your boyfriend's mouth. You didn’t know whether to be more shocked at the fact that he raised his voice out of nowhere or the fact that he just cussed at you. “I- What?”

“What’s going on between you two? And don’t you dare say nothing. You’re suddenly best buddies out of nowhere and decide to never leave each other alone for more than a second after that. Didn’t you two think that was at least a bit suspicious? You better come clean with me right now, or so help me God” Freed’s eyes were literally shooting fire as they darted between you and Laxus.

You had never seen this side of your boyfriend, and it kind of terrified you. Terrified by how he suddenly blew up without any warning. Did he give you any signs this past week? Were you being a horrible significant other for not hesitating for a moment and take his feelings into account? You should’ve known, but then again, why hasn’t this happened before considering you’re like this with everyone else too?

“Freed, I-“ You were still somewhat speechless, and before you could even sincerely apologize, you heard Bickslow cheering from behind you “finally!”

You whipped your head back so quick, you’re surprised it didn’t give you whiplash as you looked at him and evergreen who were now approaching you three “Took you long enough”

“It’s still less than a week” Laxus shrugged nonchalantly. Freed had cooled down a bit, but his eyes still held a hint of rage in them, “what the hell is going on?”

“Oh my, Freed, you sure get a foul mouth when you break your façade” Evergreen snickered while the said mage shot her a death glare, absolutely not in the mood for her snarky remarks.

“Can someone please tell me, us-” your eyes darted towards Freed for a mere second when you said that before eying your other friends again “-what is going on?

“Right, right. So, Evergreen over here was confused as to how Freed never got jealous over the fact that you’re so friendly with everyone” Once again you were questioning your qualities of being a good girlfriend “and then we realized that we had never seen Freed break his composed attitude under any circumstance-“

“so you thought, why not toy with our relationship?” the annoyance coated every word that left the green-haired mage’s lips. To say that he was disappointed in his friends was putting it mildly.

“It makes us look like bad friends if you put it that way” Evergreen mumbled as she looked away in shame. To be fair, she didn’t think Laxus would actually succeed in his job.

“Because you kinda are, right now” Freed sighed in disbelief at the obvious statement Evergreen just made “and for you to actually participate in one of Evergreen’s scheme’s, Laxus? What did they offer? You know what? I don’t care. Hope it was worth it.”

Freed stormed out of the guild, ignoring the shouts of his friends. You sighed deeply before finally speaking up as well “what you guys did, was kind of messed up, but I’ll talk with Freed about it and get him to soften up a little.”

“Thank you, (Y/N). We really never meant for this to happen. We’re so sorry” Bickslow apologized with the other two chiming in.

“Whether he forgives you guys is up to him, but I’ll see what I can do.” You hummed, ready to leave as well but stopped when you heard Laxus voice. “What about you?”

“Next time when you have an idea like that again, maybe stop and think about our feelings too. See you guys tomorrow” You gave them a small smile and actually left this time.

Once home, you immediately noticed a frustrated Freed, sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. “I’m home”

“(Y/N), I-“ You stop him before he can muster any more words “stop if you’re going to apologize, don’t. You had every right to act the way you did. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner, now that I think about it. I’ve been acting like a terrible girlfriend and for that I’m sorry, I’ll do better from now on. I promise”

Freed quickly got up and took a couple of long strides before stopping in front of you. He placed both his hand on your cheeks, lifting it slightly, so you were looking him in the eyes “No, you stop that right now. You’re not a bad girlfriend, you’re the furthest thing from it. I knew what I would get myself into when I asked you to be my girlfriend. I didn’t expect you to change, nor do I expect that from you now. I’ve let my insecurities taken over whenever I saw you with Laxus, which I should’ve never done since I deeply love and trust the both of you.”

“You know I would never leave you for Laxus, right?” You whispered, scared that if you’d talk any louder your voice would break. “You should really give yourself some more credit. Laxus isn’t superior to you. In any case, you are superior to him”

“You only say that because you love me” he rolled his eyes, but appreciated your attempt at cheering him up nonetheless.

“Maybe, but does that really matter? You’re perfect the way you are, and I love you with every single cell in my body and believe me there are a lot” You joked lightly, trying to get rid of the tense mood, in which you succeeded cause you even managed to get a light chuckle out of Freed. “In all seriousness, though, I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me.”

“And I’m sorry for even doubting you in the first place” He removed his hands from your cheeks as he placed a soft kiss on top of your head while wrapping his arms around your figure, your hand automatically sneaked around his waist as you laid your head against his chest.

“You know, Bickslow, Ever and Laxus really didn’t mean any harm but that horrible stunt they did” you mumbled as you both swayed slightly from side to side.

“I know, I’ll forgive them eventually, I just want to let them dwell on it for a little bit more.” He hummed in agreement. You lifted your head from his chest to look at him with an amused smirk on your lips, “what?”

“You really do have an evil side when you get ticked off. Remind me to never get on your bad side” you shook your head in amusement before laying your head back on his chest, feeling the vibration of his laughter against the side of your head.

[sconnie-doesnt-know]

Ransom’s Hallmark Moment

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word Count: 4300

Warnings: Language, drinking, smut including unprotected sex (imagine that birth control), Ransom's bad attitude and Ransom being soft (what?!)

A/N: written for the Hoelentine's Day Challenge hosted by @chrissquares @amythedvdhoarder and @drabblewithfrannybarnes

My giftee is Heather @hevans-angel and I hope I've been able to fulfill some of your wishes you sweet lady!

So much appreciation for @stargazingfangirl18 and @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me and being so supportive and creative! Now, on to the fic!

Aside from the date on the calendar, it feels like a typical Sunday. You got a lot done around the house, allowed yourself some time to relax and baked enough for a small army. Wiping the last of the crumbs away, you proudly look over the pile of treats ready to be given out the next day at work - all sweet and sprinkled and festive in pink and red. Spending the day baking, relaxed and comfortable with old episodes of ‘Bewitched’ on for company is just what you needed before starting another week. Plus, you aren't really alone. There's always Andy.

The wind suddenly blows hard, shaking the windows. You glance outside at the darkened sky, noticing the heavy sheets of snow falling to the ground.

“Shit,” you hiss, making your way to the back door and opening it, “Andy!”

You wait a moment and shout again, “Andy! Come on in!” followed by a series of whistles.

Nothing.

“Oh no, no no please no, not again,” you whine, heading back into the kitchen to find your phone already ringing. You scrunch up your face in a grimace as you answer as sweetly as possible, “Hello?”

“Missing something?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, I was just about to call you.”

“Yeah, well, he’s here of course. If you don’t get here soon, I might call animal control.”

“You always say that, Ransom, but I know you like him. I’ve seen the water bowl and that old tennis ball by the front walkway.”

“That’s from the housekeeper.”

“Mmhmm, sure. You know I’ll be right there. I’m sorry.”

“Sure you are, see you soon angel.”

You scoff at the nickname. He’s always using a sweet one on you, while calling your dog something far less endearing like hellhound, or fleabag, or even Cujo. The first time he said that one, you looked over at your Lab/Husky mix, with his ears perked at attention and tongue lolling out from his dopey dog smile and laughed like you hadn’t in a long time.

Ransom was less amused.

For some reason, when you moved to the little cottage house set back into the woods, your dog decided to treat himself to adventures which almost always ended with him in front of the wall of windows at Ransom’s home smearing his nose, and drool and mud all over the panes of glass. 

That first pickup was not encouraging. You’d been out searching and going down the long driveways of your neighbors to search until you found him at Ransom’s, sitting and thumping his tail against the ground and staring at Ransom through the window, who for his part, stood with his arms crossed and scowling down at your dog.

That was the first time he told you to keep him contained or he’d call animal control. 

You gave him your number, begging him to call you instead if it happened again. After a few weeks the promise of calling animal control was more of a joke than a threat.

Half the time you were already on your way over, having noticed the dog had taken off, but the other half, it was a grumpy call from Ransom, complaining about being harassed by some wild beast. Apparently the ability to spin a tale was a family trait.

By the time you got there, Andy would usually be tired out from his little journey and be waiting for you to leash him, allowing you and Ransom to get caught up in conversation. And so began an awkward-sometimes tense-sometimes flirty almost-friendship with the man. You were equal parts grateful and pissed at Andy, because of course he would go out of his furry little way to make an ass of you in front of the most handsome man you’ve seen in real life. Tall, broad-shouldered, stoic and reserved, plus cocky to top it all off - the man was checking boxes left and right.

Weeks later, Ransom was still those things, but also sarcastic, witty, a bit playful and very charming when he was in the mood. You caught the appreciative looks he gave your body when you approached (not that he really tried to hide them), and you allowed yourself moments to linger on his features as well. Your little conversations on his front walkway almost always turned flirty, at least until Andy made his impatient presence known by tugging at the leash or barking to get your attention. 

You pack up some cookies, cupcakes, and truffles you made to make some sort of peace offering, grab the leash, and head out to retrieve your little trouble-maker. The thick, wet flakes are heavy, and make the journey down the wood-lined roads slower than usual.

You pull up, squinting through the falling snow, unable to see Andy in his usual spot. You see Ransom walk through the house and to the door, waving you inside, so you hurry from the car, head ducked down to try to avoid the chill and wedge your way in, shaking away the snow once you feel the warmth inside.

“He’s in my garage,” he tells you in lieu of an actual greeting, moving away as you shake off the snow.

“What? You let him inside?”

“Not inside-inside, but yeah. I know better than to leave a pet out in that. Christ. And you know, I keep telling you, princess if you want to see me, you don’t have to keep sending that mutt over as an excuse.”

“Yeah, sure. But what a waste of all that training,” you quip back. It’s almost a routine at this point.

You roll your eyes when he gives you an over exaggerated, proud smile. You immediately want to roll your eyes again because of how good that stupid smile looks on him, too. Your gaze can’t help but travel up and down the length of him, long legs, slim hips that go up to those broad shoulders, all encased in a heavy sweater...with holes torn at the lower hem and at the stomach.

Without thinking, you rush forward to grab the frayed yarn cringing at the idea of needing to replace the expensive garment, “Oh no, did he do this? I know he gets jumpy when he’s excited.”

“No, he didn’t,” he wipes at the front of this stomach. “It’s fine. It’s just like that.”

He can’t even say anything else before you start with more apologizing and rambling, “I am so, so sorry. I swear I only left him out there for a few minutes so he could play in the snow, and he’s been so good. And here,” you thrust the package at him, “I made some food and I hope you have a sweet tooth, and I know it doesn’t make up for the inconvenience and-”

“What’s this?” he asks, shaking it slightly and breaking up your word vomit.

“Uh, it-it’s just like some cookies and stuff that I made.”

“What for?”

“For Valentine’s Day. I made a bunch of stuff because at work we’re doing a thing tomorrow, so-”

“No, I mean why are you giving these to me?”

“Oh,” you hadn’t thought you would need to explain, “Um, neighborly kindness? Gratitude? Because it’s Valentine’s Day?”

“Huh. Does this make you my Valentine?” He laughs and turns on his heel, walking away toward where you can see is the kitchen area. 

“For some reason, you don’t strike me as the sweet and cuddly Valentine type,” you call after him, hearing him chuckle in response.

You wait in the foyer for what feels like too long, just listening as he moves around, opens and closes cabinets and goes on like you’re not there. You look around uncertain what you’re expected to do since you usually don’t make it past the doorway until you decide to pull off your boots and hang your jacket over a chair set near the door. You follow the path he made into the kitchen.

“Sooo. Like I was trying to say, I don’t want to bother you,” you say quietly, “I will just grab Andy and head on home.”

“You really wanna drive with that going on?” he gestures to the window. When you look, it’s practically a blizzard and your car is covered in a fresh, thick layer already.

“Shit,” you rub at the side of your face, nervous at the idea of navigating the roads, but just as anxious to not irritate the man staring you down from across the counter. “Not really. Where’s Andy? I wanna check on him.”

He points to a door down the hall. “Garage is through there.”

You make your way through the house with your jaw clenched, unsure with what you might find knowing that Ransom’s not exactly a fan of dogs. So opening the door he pointed to and finding your dog curled up on an old tarp with that familiar worn-out tennis ball, a full water bowl, all cozy and warm inside the otherwise empty garage is not what you expected at all. 

Your dog lifts his head, tail thumping against the floor as you approach, but he seems worn out from his romp through the snow, so you let him settle down after making sure he’s alright and head back to Ransom in the living room. A small smile in place of your grimace from a few moments before.

“The garage is heated,” Ransom tells you from his seat on the couch. “Figured he’d be alright in there. Can’t do much damage.”

“That’s...that’s really great.” You’re caught off-guard by the thoughtfulness of it. “Thanks for setting him up. I’ll just wait until it slows down and head back out, don’t want to mess up any plans you had.”

He laughs at that, hard and loud. “No, in fact you and the mutt gave me the perfect out from a family thing.”

“Oh really, don’t let us keep you.”

“Oh no, I’m too busy being a hero during the snowstorm,” he answers dryly, letting silence hang in the air for a few moments afterward. “Drink?” he offers.

“A hero? That’s the excuse you’re giving them?” You try to wave off the drink offer, but then he points back outside. 

“I think we’ve got some time on our hands. And yeah, makes for a great story, doesn’t it?” he chuckles to himself. 

You glance back to the wall of windows, seeing nothing but swirling white and sighing, “Sure, might as well. But just to let you know, Andy might not be thrilled that you’re using him as an excuse.”

He smiles and gets up from the sofa to pour you each a glass, then turns back and holds yours out to you, “I know a girl, I think she might be willing to put in a good word for me.”

You take a sip of your drink to hide your grin and sit on the sofa when he does.

A little while goes by and despite the somewhat awkward start to the situation, he’s not bad company. Andy is still content with his set-up, nearly ready to tuck in for the night when you check on him again later. When you return, Ransom’s opened the box of goodies, happily making a dent in the whiskey dark chocolate truffles you piled in there.

“So, you’re sure we’re not interrupting anything? No lady or ladies or even gentlemen you planned to entertain?” You ask as you settle back onto the sofa, closer to the center. Ransom had ignited the fireplace while you were up, dimming the lights and letting the orange flames illuminate the space in front of you.

“Will you drop it already? Nothing aside from the usual family obligation to show up, deal with passive aggressive bullshit, then some outright aggressive bullshit, and watching the show when it all implodes. I am happy to let a pretty girl and her big, messy dog give me an excuse to stay home.”

You laugh, trying to brush off the compliment thrown in there, “Hard to believe you want to miss out on all that. Sounds like a real special time.”

“Very special,” he drawls. He wipes some crumbs off his fingers as he shakes his head before adding, “Trust me this is much better.” He tosses his arm over the back of the couch, letting it fall on your shoulders and force you to lean a bit further into him. 

“Yeah,” you mutter as you look down to your feet and fumble a string of syllables of incomplete words as you try to remind yourself to not read too much into what he’s saying.

“Oh, come on.” He picks up the slack in the conversation when you still don’t manage to say anything else for a few moments, leaning into your space as he breaks the silence. “So, I finally have you all to myself and you’re gonna be shy for me?”

You look up at him, eyes wide and heat rising in your cheeks and chest. “What?”

The hand not wrapped over you reaches out and pushes your chin up, closing your mouth which dropped into an ‘o’ of surprise. His thumb slides up to trace at the pout of your lip.

“Please, baby girl. Neither of us is very subtle. I don’t really do romance, but we’ve got a fire going, we’re stuck in a snowstorm, and I’ve been wanting to get you all to myself since that mutt first showed up over here. If that isn’t some panty-soaking Hallmark crap right there, then I don’t know what is.”

That makes you laugh, which makes him laugh right along with you. The tension has shaken loose and your smile is uncontrollable. It’s ridiculous - the scenario, his words, that he can read you so well, that he isn’t wrong. 

“Hard to believe you don’t have women knocking down your door with all that to offer.”

“Just one woman, and her very stupid dog.”

“Hey,” you start in offense, but still move in when he does, smiling into the kiss. It’s chaste and soft for brief seconds before lips part and your tongues meet. His hands waste no time to pull you closer, tugging you along and making you shift on your knees until he pulls you over him to straddle his lap.

You’re grabbing at everything you can, bunching his thick sweater in your hands, then sliding up and down over his shoulders and biceps, appreciating how solid he feels beneath you. Until finally, you rake your fingers into his hair, ruffling it a bit and then grasping it tightly at the crown to pull his head back, drawing a short moan from his throat.

He tilts back into the pull and you lift yourself up higher on your knees to keep your lips together. When your hands finally let go, allowing him to ease the arch of his neck, you take your time sliding your body down against his torso, pushing your core over the hard bulge in his slacks.

“You gotta ride me, baby.” It sounds like an order, not an option.

Yes. You aren’t sure if you say it out loud, but you feel the air leave your lungs in a rush and your body quivers at just the thought. You don’t care if this is quick, or rushed, or frantic - it’s exactly what you want rightfuckingnow.

His palms rest at the edge of your hip bones, fingers spread and digging into your sides and just slightly pushing and pulling you to get some pressure where you feel that he’s hard.

You reach down, covering his hands with yours and pull them up your sides under your sweater, not so much encouraging as demanding that he move things along. He gets with the program quickly and pushes the sweater up, separating your lips long enough to take it off then pulling you back as quickly as he can. His hands find their own way to the clasp of your bra, making quick work of removing it as well and eagerly touching every inch of bare skin.

When you both start to pant, breaths coming out hard and shaky, he moves his lips to tickle the skin on your cheek, down to your jaw, along the curve there and onto your neck. He sucks at the sensitive skin, nibbling and dragging his teeth when he gets focused on a single sensitive spot that makes you whine out loud. 

Your head hangs down to the side, letting him work his way down the column of skin there and sinking into the loose, ragdoll feeling as your body just gives in to every sensation of pleasure. His arms squeeze you against him while he keeps pushing his hips up and into you, teasing you with hints of pressure where you are starting to feel empty and needy.

“Yes,” you gasp, definitely out loud this time. “Yes,” over and over, every time he does something whether it is with his tongue, or his fingers - his blunt nails digging into the sides of your ribs to hold you tightly in place, or the twist of your hips as he lifts his own up against you.

It’s so much, and you’ve only just lost your shirt. It’s not worth waiting anymore. Your mind is set now to just get what you want.

You push away from him. He slowly comes to, eyes glazed and unfocused, a low mutter of “the fuck” slurred from his lips. Before he can reach for you, you lift off him. Your legs are shaky, but you stand as steadily as you can, undoing the button and zipper and pulling down your jeans and panties in a single push.

He watches for a second, then reaches behind him, gripping the neck of his sweater and hauling it up and over his head. He reveals almost exactly what you were hoping for - solid, defined muscles and smooth skin - but there’s more. Hair across his pecs and in a line down the center of his abs, and freckles dotting everywhere on his fair skin. You want to caress and trace every one, run your fingers along imaginary paths and press against him - but it can wait. It’s got to wait.

Impatiently, you kneel, kicking the legs of your pants away and shuffling forward to reach for his belt. His hands settle at his side, flexing, but letting you do what you seem to be compelled to do. You fling the ends of the belt apart and pull at the button and then the zipper, already salivating at the mingling scent of his cologne and sex.

He straightens his hips, lifting from the couch to allow you to shove his boxers and pants down his legs, his cock pulling with them, then bouncing back up once freed. It throbs, slightly bobbing with a rush of arousal and you can’t help but admire the thickness of it, the swollen head that glistens with smeared pre-come.

Heat burns over your skin, and when you look up at Ransom, he’s clearly feeling the same. His cheeks are flushed in patches of pink, his lips red, swollen, and parted as he lets out short, shaky breaths, hair hanging loose and disheveled. It’s more than you hoped for, and it’s disgusting how perfect he looks. 

As much as you want to tease, to keep this view while you swallow him down and taste him, your pussy throbs. You promise yourself again to take more time with him later, to lick and suck and taste him the way you want, but you can’t resist at least a taste. You grab his shaft, leaning in to swallow him deeply - just once - and draw a shocked moan from him before pulling off and pushing up from your knees, humming at the taste of him.

“Damn, princess. I thought I was going to ruin you, but fuck, you’re good.” He reaches forward as you’re moving up, his hand grabbing at the back of your head to guide you. He pulls a bit at your hair when you’re back up to the couch and spreading your thighs wide over his. His free hand reaches between your legs swirling through your wet, sensitive slit and pressing the heel of his palm hard against your clit.

“Later,” he promises, “I’m gonna taste your pussy. Gonna lick it all up.” He pulls his hand away and sucks away your juices as they drip down his fingers. The promise is so dirty it makes your breath shake in anticipation. You stare into each others’ eyes, admiring the wreckage between you and moving without guidance to seat yourself on top. 

You gasp when you finally feel the hot, hard line of him pressed against your pussy. It feels so thick, and you’re eager to feel the stretch of him pushing inside. You lock your arms around his neck, pushing your breasts together, nipples peaking as they drag along the coarse hair on his chest. 

The lips of your pussy spread over his cock, coating him with your slick. His cockhead rubs over your clit, making you shudder and suck in stuttering breath, and that’s it. You can’t take it anymore.

“Can I have your cock?” Deep down, you know you don’t really need to ask. 

“Yeah,” he adjusts his hips, scooting himself out a little further to give you more room to settle against him. “You’re gonna fucking ride me, princess. Come all over me.”

“Uh huh,” you breathe out, high and airy.

He takes one hand off you, using two fingers to angle his cock toward you. You lift up on your knees, tipping your hips until you feel him against your entrance. You pause for a brief second to ready yourself, then sink down, taking him all in at once.

The stretch makes you groan, the static-like buzzing mix of ache and pleasure spreading all over and making you throw your head back and deepen the moan.

He huffs out a few quick breaths. “That’s it, oh that pussy is so good. So fucking good, princess,” he mumbles.

Then his hands are back on your hips, warm against the bare skin and strong when he digs the tips of his fingers in to pull you further down, “This cock filling you up? Huh?”

All you can manage is another high-pitched, “Uh-huh,” while you start to roll your hips, barely lifting as you shift back and forth to grind against him, your walls still squeezing him tight.

“Come on, let go, baby,” he whispers, his mouth tight against your ear. Your arms loosen their grip around his neck and you place your hands instead on the muscles flexing at the tops of his shoulders. 

You move your knees to get them comfortable and then finally push yourself off him, sliding and gasping as you feel the head of his cock catching just at your entrance again, and after another silent beat, you slide back down, taking his hard length again.

With the space given, he dips his mouth to your breasts, swirling and suckling at your nipples, Harsh, fast sucks followed by quick nips when he catches the hard peaks in between his teeth until you gasp and moan. Only then does he switch it up, his tongue gently rolling over the bud, soothing the stinging ache.

All the while you roll your hips and the burn, the push, the fullness of him inside you is drugging. Your eyes fall closed as you focus on the steadily growing tingle low in your belly.

You start to chase it with slow, dragging strokes, easing up only to drop down and have him bottom out deep inside. It builds fast, making your thighs burn and knees ache as you try to keep your position; one knee has managed to wedge into the corner of the couch and the rhythm needed to build your orgasm conflicts with the concentration needed to keep yourself steady.

“Just take it, babygirl. I got you,” he whispers, feeling your body getting tired on top of him.

He shifts his legs, placing his feet on the ground and pushing up into you, letting you settle on his lap and rock yourself forward and back while his cock stays buried in you. He adjusts his hands to rest just at your tailbone, pressing you steadily against him and giving the pressure needed to your clit when you press against his pubic bone.

Cries start to escape from you, first quiet and breathy, but then building as the air gets pushed out in hard breaths. Your body inches closer and closer to that release, your body hot and burning and there’s a slight moment of too much just before it hits...and then it’s rushing over you - all liquid fire and bliss. You clamp down over him, legs straining over the tight muscles of his thighs.

He pushes up into you, his hands pressing harder at the middle of your back to keep you moving through your release as he works to find his. He hisses through clenched teeth, broken praises coming out on hard breaths.

“Yeah...There...Righthere...God...Fuck.”

When he curls into you, nails digging into your soft skin and breathing heavy against your chest, you know he’s right there.

“Come for me,” you whisper.

“God - yeah!” With one final, hard thrust, he does. You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside you when he releases, his hips jerking up slightly to keep pushing into you while the tense features of his face soften with relief.

For a moment it’s nothing but panting breaths and the racing beat of your pulse in your ears. Then it’s slow, dragging hands across naked skin and muscle, soothing the tense muscles and tickling sensitive spots and whispering praise to the man beneath you while he hugs you tight to him.

His voice is low and quiet as he asks, “Is the mutt gonna be mad that I stole his Valentine?” 

“You like me,” you smile against his neck and tease him with a sing-song voice, “And you like my dog.”

“I like you,” he agrees. “The dog’s okay, too.”

“Does that mean Andy should come harass you again on Friday night?”

“I’ll even get a dog-sitter.” He says with a smirk. “Let him know that 7 would be good.”

Tags: @jtargaryen18 @ozarkthedog @wi-deangirl77 @angrythingstarlight @donutloverxo @navybrat817 @saiyanprincessswanie  @sweeterthanthis @sagechanoafterdark @tuiccim 

[smallblip]

Forever Fifteen

Levihan | Part I of Good Bones | written for Levihan Week 2021- Memory (day 6)

It’s on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/33635872

“Hello stranger…”

Hanji doesn’t have to look behind her to know who it is. Already, she’s pulling a cigarette case from the inner pocket of her jacket. She holds one out to her side, and with a brush of cold fingers against hers, it’s gone. Her heart beats out of her chest.

Oh be still! We’ve been through this before! This should be as mundane as- doing the laundry.

She turns to face him, scanning him from his nice dress shoes to the way his hair is slicked back, an exaggerated simper on her face.

“What’s a handsome stranger like you doing in a place like this?”

He scoffs. “The party’s not over yet…”

“I know…” she replies, tilting her head to get a better look at her company. “I’m just watching…”

He follows her gaze to the courtyard below the balconies, to where Jean is sitting with Mikasa. Just- talking.

“Happened right under our noses…” Hanji chuckles. Oh right… she mutters when Levi gestures for the light. There’s a little fumbling because of Hanji’s penchant for pockets, but she finds the box of matches eventually. She strikes one and holds it close to Levi. A bright little light that burns embers into the greys of his eyes. The dark circles under his eyes have made a permanent home under his skin, and there are now lines carved into the shadows. When did those get there?

As always, Levi is the first to look away.

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that would you?” He raises a brow.

Jean is now laughing at something. Levi clicks his tongue in annoyance. In the many years he has known these damned kids, he hasn’t once laughed at anything Mikasa has to say. Jean must be a fool then. Jean is a fool because he listens too well to Hanji. Listens when she tells him he should go for it if that’s what he wants. Tell her a good pickup line, swap a few jokes, share a little fruitcake. Easy.

Hanji gasps dramatically, “as Commander of the Survey Corps, I would like to remind you that I am well aware of the policy against fraternisation!”

“That never stopped you…” Levi answers. But oh it has. The people who knew them as lovers are now dust. And now the rumours speak for them, past prefixed to lovers as a way to explain the familiarity, as a way to grow the distance.

Oh it has stopped them.

“Never stopped you either… If only they knew the great Captain Levi wrote crazy ol’ Hanji Zoë a love letter in his youth…” Hanji chuckles, a little too brave so it must be the alcohol, because she feels anything but brave lately. Her laughter is a little too bright for the night. A little too beautiful and familiar that it makes Levi smile. There’s a spray of pink on his cheekbones. The thought of people knowing the details is mortifying to say the least. But no one will know. This secret will be buried in a shared grave. A cosy little grave that gets a little damp in the summer. But they’ll brave the heat. Good things happen in the sun. Good for the linens too. Just- not good enough to untether the smell of Hanji’s skin from the fabric of his sheets.

“Do you remember what was in that letter?” She continues.

He doesn’t look at her now. His gaze is fixed on Jean’s fidgeting and he thinks of his own attempts at romance. His own little love story that blossomed beautifully and died tragically as they grew older. When they were put in charge for lives outside their own. When Erwin had named Hanji the next in line for the cursed role of Commander. One last night with her. One kiss and a handshake and a- hello stranger, my name is Hanji Zoë.

Levi. He had replied, just Levi.

He remembers Pyxis’ smug little “maybe your boyfriend can help with the mission” and Hanji’s vacuous, unthinking “oh he’s not my boyfriend anymore…”. The look on Pyxis’ face had been one for the books- a genuine surprise from coming by two pieces of information. So they are exes. The rumours were true. Menacing Levi and Kooky Zoë. Levi had launched a kick at Hanji’s shin under the table. Never in Levi’s life had he wished so much for the earth to swallow him whole.

“No…”

He says. It’s not lying if she knows what he really means. If she can tell, between each drag of her cigarette, what he’s thinking.

And she can. Oh she can.

He lets the memory dance across his eyes. That night at the pub, two kids puffing out their chests so they wouldn’t rouse suspicions (not that people care much in the Underground), listening to the men sing songs about love. Oh what Levi would give be young again. To look at Hanji, really look at her for the first time and have his mind play static on loop. To realise that for the rest of his life he’ll only be mesmerised by her.

She chuckles. Another drag of her cigarette, two taps to watch the ash drip. A wink.

“We must be getting old then, Levi…” She says, “in a few years we’ll be a couple of old prunes, you and I…”

Levi smiles at her. He’s never really thought about the mechanics of growing old. But he thinks the image is nice. Of Hanji tracing pruny fingers along the length of his pruny skin where the crescent scars sit in the leather of his skin. And he’ll remind her of the time when they kids, because that’s what old couples do right? Tease each other endlessly, talk about the ambiguity of the good old days, reminisce over long walks? Levi wants the complete works. He laughs to himself, a private little joke that simmers to a murmur-

Four-eyed prune…

It’s a little later when Hanji decides maybe it’s time to stop eavesdropping and get back to the party. The musicians announce the last dance of the night. The trumpets trail after the saxophone and the sound is something grand. And Hanji asks Levi if he wants to dance, because she’s a sucker for romantics, even though she’ll never admit it. And she knows Levi is too. And Hanji thinks life must still be pretty sweet if she’s dancing with her ex lover with a sea of memories between them and the abject refusal to explicate the boundaries of exes. Because it’s hard to forget. Because it’s hard to wash your lover’s scent from your sheets. No matter how hard you scrub, no matter how much the sunlight eats at the fabric and bleaches it. So much so that Hanji thinks it’s all in her head. The smell of his skin, the taste of cigarettes on his tongue- he only smokes with her, only with her- the ghost of his breath against the shell of her ear.

And Levi’s heart is beating out his chest.

Oh be still! We’ve been through worse! We scrubbed at the sheets until our fingers were raw and pruny, remember?

But with Hanji it’s hard to catch a break. He knows. He’s dealt with this for so long that he doesn’t even flinch when she tells him-

“You’re my best friend, Levi…”

But she recognises all the signs. The slight twitch of the corner of his lips, the creasing of the skin between his brows, the sadness in his eyes so bright that she has to avert her gaze.

“Do you tell all the boys that when you dance with them?”

He answers. And she hears the rhythmic grate of the sheets against the washing board.

Forgetting is hard.

“I don’t dance with other boys…” She replies, channeling Hanji Zoë at fifteen- was it sixteen? Seventeen? Eighteen maybe? Hanji Zoë who would sneak into the boy’s barracks to make out with her boyfriend in the dead of night and scurry back under the sheets before anyone found out. “You know I like you the most…”

“Good…”

He says. And he’s Levi- a few years older than she had been, a little too curt, a little too much misplaced possessiveness, thinking to himself that maybe love isn’t so icky and banal. Thinking maybe this is what his mother had promised him. This is all that’s beautiful.

He leans his chin against her shoulder, wrestling against the caution thrown at his beating heart.

Let them talk. Let them say we were lovers in a past life. Because that’s all we are.

Hanji presses her temple against his. The familiarity is jarring in all the ways a stain is. Bright mustard yellow against white cotton, evidence of a split second stupid decision to eat on the duvet. This is a cumulation of mustard moments then- a stain so big the entire world turns yellow.

“I like you the most too…” Levi says, voice low like this is a secret. Like as if the whole of Paradis Island doesn’t already know.

Hanji chuckles, and the vibration that spreads from her bones to his makes him blush. He knocks his temple against hers. Stupid Hanji. Stupid mustard stain.

“Liar…” she laughs. The word is a breath that caresses his cheek. But she knows him- this boy Erwin collected from the underground city. He got under her skin and she proceeds to make it her job to get under his. She had greeted him with scars on his forearm and in return, she walked away with a bruised eye, a broken nose, and an epiphany. And in the years after- the good years- they do what every teenager would do-

fuck around and fall in love.

Levi pulls apart, and in that moment, his lips brush against her neck- fleeting casualness befitting a hey big idiot. It’s the hottest day in the history of mankind but I’ll brave the stickiness to kiss your sweaty neck. Befitting a lifelong stain of a crush on a stain of a human being that will never quite go away.

It’s hard to forget.

Hanji watches as Jean crosses the hall back to where Connie and Sasha are. A sheepish grin plastered on a bright red face. The two tease him endlessly and as always, Jean swats them away, trying to maintain his cool. Hanji knows nothing really happened, but his reaction can only mean hopeful possibility. She smiles.

“Hey, do you think we would’ve worked out?”

Hanji asks when they’re walking back to the barracks, her jacket concealing a few bottles of alcohol. The other bottles have found their way to Levi’s reluctant hands. They’ve been through this before. It’s okay now. After all, comfort is a stained duvet. Soon, she’ll have to bid him farewell with a goodnight, stranger. But for now, Levi answers without looking at her.

“Yeah…” he replies, matter of fact, “we’ve got good bones…”

Oh be still! Hanji feels betrayed that her heart- a wretched thing so broken- still beats the same for him- this beautiful stain of a human being. This moment is living, breathing nostalgia. What had they been before one another? Menacing Levi and Kooky Zoë. How could anything bad ever happen to them. She grins at him.

“The best…”

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 11

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: Here we are, a breath away from the end. This features not one, but FOUR songs written by myself. If you only choose to listen to one of them, listen to the final one (Cradle of Heaven), as it is a duet I wrote specifically for this fanfiction, as something that the reader wrote to play together with Daniela. The links to these songs will be within the fanfiction itself, at relevant times. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB

Chapter 11: Cadence

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

The stage is set, the lights are dimmed, your heart pounds within your chest, and the world is yours. Soon, it will be Daniela’s. She is right by your side, as ever, hand gently taking hold of your own. There’s a silent reassurance in her grip, a reminder that the two of you have overcome a plethora of challenges. A promise that this will be no different. Both of you take a deep breath, in sync, before exchanging a quick kiss. All of your hard work has been leading up to the coming moments. Although you are beyond confident in your lover’s abilities, there is a shadow of doubt in the back of your mind. Not for her sake, but surrounding the expectations held by her mother, the standard against which you would be measured.

“Come hell or high water, Songbird, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise,” Daniela whispers, squeezing your hand again, eyes unblinking as they stare into yours. “You’ve made every right choice, worked harder than anyone I know, and there is nothing more I can ask of you… except another kiss to celebrate afterwards, that is.” Giggling in response gives you the moment you need to relax, nerves fading into the background of your mind. “Now let’s put on a show the likes of which my mother has never seen, mhmm?”

THREE HOURS EARLIER:

“Here, you can borrow my brooch. It’s been in the family for generations, since before we even came to the village, passed down starting with an ancestor who crafted it himself, from materials he scavenged while fleeing his home country,” Daphne rambles, helping you attach the jewelry to your shirt. Thankfully, her hands do not tremble nearly as much as yours have been for the past hour. “I’m more than sure that Lady Daniela will tell you this much, but I feel the need to repeat just how good you look right now. I don’t know where the hell they’ve been hiding this version of our uniform, but damn do I wish I could get one for my next date with Ygritte. Seriously, if you can get one in my size, please do me that favor.”

“Anything for my best friend. Especially after all the times you’ve saved my ass these past few months,” you reply, pausing to give her shoulder an affectionate pat. If not for her constant interference running, someone would have certainly found out about your relationship with Daniela. “Speaking of that… of my life being on the line, I mean… no matter what happens today, no matter what Lady Dimitrescu decides, take care of yourself. You’ve gambled with your own blood to keep me safe, but what I’ve done, what I’ve risked, those were my choices. My consequences. The last thing I’d ever want is for you to pay for them, somehow.”

Rolling her eyes, Daphne gives you a playful shove to the chest, before smoothing out the fabric of your dress uniform. Now she refuses to meet your gaze, a familiar mistiness taking over her brown eyes.

“Nobody around here is stupid enough to think you’ll die today. You managed to get Lady Daniela, of all people, to stay focused long enough to learn some absolutely beautiful pieces of music. You have proved, time and time again, that you are a talented musician, teacher, and ‘servant’. So get out there and kick some metaphorical ass, my friend, because you are ready,” she finally says, offering you what seems to be a handshake. But as soon as your hand meets hers, she’s pulling you in for a hug, holding you tight for a solid minute. When at last you part, you give her what may very well be the last smile she’d ever see gracing your lips.

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

A hand’s edge against xer forehead, parallel to the ground, kept perfectly flat. From anyone else, it would be mockery. From xer? Honest salute, solidarity in a traditional form, accompanied by a sharp-toothed grin. Mimicking the expression, you wave at Ava, glad to see that xe would be awake for your concert. After your first night with your girlfriend, Daphne had helped arrange for someone to be your “cover story” for sleeping outside of your usual quarters. With Daniela’s input (and jealousy), only one candidate had revealed themselves, in the form of a (conveniently) mute butler with an inconsistent schedule, love of mischief, and somehow the respect of the Dimitrescu family. Now, xe appeared ready to escort you to the location of your trial by fire.

“Are you sure our mutual friend won’t be upset to see the two of us together?” You teased, knowing full well that Ava was one of the only people that Daniela trusted 100% around you. In response, xe gives an exaggerated shrug, then quickly links xer arm with your own. Together you march onwards to your destiny, amused by the way xe practically skipped down the hallway. Maybe there was a certain wisdom to xer shenanigans, a carefree philosophy that encouraged laughter in the face of death, and you embraced the thought with a smile.

Before long, however, the two of you encounter another unlikely pair headed towards the same destination: Lady Cassandra, looking somewhat embarrassed, with an unfamiliar maiden at her side. Their hands are clutching each other desperately, although neither of them dares to look at the other. Instead they both watch you closely from where they’ve paused in the corridor. Oddly unfazed, Ava gives them a short bow of acknowledgement, earning xer a brief nod from Cassandra. Seeming eager to move on, she addresses you quickly before gesturing for you to keep walking.

“Good luck. Don’t fuck this up for Daniela, or I’ll never hear the end of it,” she growls, doing her best to downplay her obvious concern. Wanting to let her keep up with her facade, you merely give a nod as you resume walking towards the concert stage. Soft footsteps behind you let you know that the strange pair are accompanying you. Still walking alongside you, Ava repeatedly glances behind you, putting out xer hands in the shape of a heart, giggling all the while. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost assume that xe wanted to get hit by Cassandra.

“Ava, please calm down. If you’re not careful, she’ll throw something at you. If she does that, you’ll probably dodge, and then I’ll probably end up getting hit, and then I’ll miss the concert, Lady Dimitrescu will kill me as punishment, Daniela will be sad and whiny about it, and none of you will have any peace for, like, a month. Three weeks, bare mims,” you tease, nudging xer in the ribs. Emphasizing a pout, xe sends one last look at Cassandra and her ‘friend’ (whose hand she was still holding onto like a lifeline), mouthing words you couldn’t parse. Based on the way Cassandra groans, it was something ridiculously cheesy. Regardless, xe behaves the rest of the way there…

ONE MINUTE TO SHOWTIME:

“I love you, Firefly, and I know that you’re going to do absolutely amazing out there. I’m so proud of you,” you murmur, pressing a feather-light kiss to Daniela’s cheek. As dearly as you wish to stay behind the curtain, in her arms, you know that the show was inevitable. With one last nod to your beloved, you part the fabric shielding you, stepping into the spotlight. Imaginary crowds grow hushed at your appearance, a sea of faces greeting you warmly. In truth, there are but five members in this audience, each gazing upon you with veiled interest. Donning you best presentation persona, you set this final act in motion. “Lady Dimitrescu, Lady Cassandra, Lady Bela, and Mx. Caldwell, it brings me great pleasure to present to you, on this day, a concert performed by your own Lady Daniela. For three months now I have acted as her instructor, and these three months have been, perhaps, the most rewarding of my entire life. I could not possibly be any more proud of her than I already am. Now, without further ado… let us begin!”

Stepping to the side, a tug of a rope has the curtains parting entirely, revealing your beloved, waiting ready at the piano. All at once your audience (including Cassandra’s partner, acting as a mere servant in the background) sits up with wide smiles. They look Daniela over, taking in the sight of her fanciest dress, and the way her eyes light up with joy. By the time her fingers begin dancing away at the keys, there is not a single ounce of anxiety in your entire soul. This first song is a relic from your past, a representation of an abandoned idea, yet she plays it like a celebration. It’s fast, hits hard, a bold take right out of the gate. Admittedly, it is also somewhat short. Nonetheless, it serves its purpose, igniting a spark of excitement in those present. Once the song ends, Daniela is surprised by the intensity of her family’s applause. In the back of her mind, she trembles with excitement, knowing that the best was yet to come.

Riding this wave of pride, she immediately settles into the next song, something slower but far grander. Affection thrums inside your chest as you watch your pupil perfectly execute another piece. You can only imagine what her mother must be feeling, to see just how far her daughter has come in such a short amount of time. A quick glance in Alcina’s direction reveals the barest hints towards her being impressed. For now that was enough to satisfy you. Soon enough her face would twist in surprise, as the second song ended, and a new face steps up onto the stage: Lady Bela. Wordlessly she retrieves her violin from the back of the stage, then turns to the front with a mischievous smile.

“Now, a duet! Presenting the ever-talented Lady Bela, to join Lady Daniela for a rendition of an original song, dubbed ‘Northern Lights’. Enjoy!” You call out, before once more taking your place at the side. While Daniela did not need you to count her in for her solo performances, this feels ever so slightly more important, and as such you do your best to conduct for the duration of the song. If either of the performers need it, they hide it well. Honestly, you weren’t sure if your girlfriend had looked your way even a single time so far. ‘Twas incredible to witness her. Akin to a siren, near glowing, taking to the stage as if born to grace its center. Even with Bela working her own magic, Daniela is ever the star. Together they weave a lovely song, notes rising high into the air, swirling around an enchanted audience.

When it ends, both performers give a bow, as if the entire affair had come to a close. Without hinting at what was to come, you switch places with the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. A deep breath rattles your ribcage as you find your center, reaching out to take Daniela’s hand, the two of you raising your arms upward in a display of union. For the first time this evening, Lady Alcina narrows her eyes in what feels like disapproval. But you pay her no mind. Instead you sit alongside your beloved, quietly settling into your practiced position.

There is no introduction for this song. No announcement, no showmanship, nor even a countdown into the symphony. Simply, like exhaling a breath, the two of you start to play. Your phrases echo hers, and vice versa, calling and answering, accompanying all the while, natural as anything holy in the wild. ‘Tis the second shortest song of the night, only long enough to showcase the degree of your partnership with Daniela. As the song crescendos into an ending, you manage to meet the gaze of your employer. Perhaps it is merely an illusion of hope, or a reflection of lights above, but you swear you see tears in her eyes.

“Outstanding, incredible,” she praises, rising to her feet alongside her other daughters, clapping all the while. Once again you rise to your feet, hand clasped with Daniela’s, bowing as deeply as you can manage. Before you can even process what’s happening, your girlfriend is being pulled away from you, swept up into the arms of her mother. Desperation digs like a knife into your heart, as you ache to celebrate with her, but you remain ever in the guise of a professional. “You did amazing, my dear. I cannot begin to describe how proud I am.” The family gathers around each other, buzzing with affection fit to make the hardest of hearts melt. You are left on the outside, awkwardly waiting, without a hint of acknowledgment.

Even if this concert was a measure of your skill as a teacher, Lady Dimitrescu had never bothered to consider you more than another servant. This night was about Daniela. About your secret girlfriend, the brightest star in all the skies. That is not something that bothers you, nor does it surprise you. All that makes you wish to weep is the desire to kiss her. To sweep her into your arms, with celebratory kisses, singing her name as a praise to higher powers. In the end, it takes several minutes for Daniela to pull away enough to move back to you, and even then she cannot give you the reaction she yearns for.

“I’ll come by to talk to you tonight, I promise,” she whispers, as she gives you the weakest hug you have ever felt. Then she is returning to her family, clinging to her mother with a massive grin. Soon enough you are left alone on stage, quiet surrounding you, mixed feelings gnawing at the pit of your stomach. Something feels… wrong. You cannot put a name to it. No one has hinted to you what your beloved has planned, for none but her even have a clue. As soon as she is alone with her mother, as soon as she has the smallest sliver of an opportunity, she knows what she must do. “Mother… we need to talk. I... I have a confession to make.”

[ot3]

What's the core appeal of orv? I know the premise but why does it make you so hyped up?

OH BOY OH BOY....... i will try to be as concise as possible here but i could write without exaggeration thousands of words about why orv is good. But I guess here's the big stuff.

- Its funny, for starters. it is extremely funny, which is very high up on my media priority list. in orv, there will be incredibly grim things that make you laugh, and incredibly cringe and silly anime bullshit that will hurt you as heavily as any other media you’ve seen. 

- it executes it’s thematic arcs with pinpoint precision the likes of which i’ve hardly ever seen anything else manage to do. regardless of whether or not the themes themselves are the sort of themes you go bonkers for in media, it’s always just delightful to see something perfectly stick it’s landing in terms of the big concepts its trying to grapple with, and orv does

- it’s got fun and fascinating worldbuilding mechanics. the core concept being ‘reality now operates on the rules of a shitty novel’ means that the worldbuilding doesn’t have to function logically, it functions thematically. it’s explicitly stated in orv canon that some of the internal rules governing this new reality are objectively really stupid and illogical, but they just have to roll with it because that’s what was in the book, and i think it’s a really enjoyable way to do it. This may at first sound like a copout, where the writer is trying to excuse their own bad worldbuilding, but it isn’t. The world building is actually incredibly deeply thought out, but it doesn’t exist for the sake of rational function, it exists for the sake of, once again, furthering orv’s thematic arcs. the rules by which this universe operate do a magnificent job of strengthening the core concepts the authors are exploring. 

- it deals with morality in a really wonderful and nuanced way. there are almost no characters in orv’s extremely large cast of characters who are just explicitly morally condemnable, and almost every conflict allows you to understand exactly why the antagonists believe they’re in the right by opposing the actions of our protagonists. the central conflicts are never pure right and pure wrong; they’re always about contrasting goals, conflicting worldviews, and different priorities between ends and means. this makes the conflicts all feel so much more dynamic and engaging than those where the only stakes are physical harm. 

- the characters interpersonal relationships are some of the most interesting ive ever seen. orv is very slow burn and it takes a long time for a lot of these to come out of the woodwork, by design, but by god once they do they fucking hit. similar to the plot conflicts, the interpersonal conflicts also almost never occur where there’s one side clearly in the wrong. the characters are almost all genuinely attempting to do their best by each other, and the tension comes from the ways in which human communication is fundamentally imperfect and part of our feelings and intentions get lost in translation. it’s very heartwrenching and heartwarming to see unfold, in equal measure. 

- following from that, it’s a narrative that really meaningfully prioritizes non-romantic relationships over romantic ones as the central focus. obviously there’s shipbait and the ot3 is real and good and my friend but if you’re looking for deep complex platonic, (found or otherwise) familial, and antagonistic relationships that never get ruined with forced romantic arcs, we got em baby!

- the pacing is unlike anything i’ve ever seen before. from a purely technical standpoint, it is genuinely a fascinating case study in how to execute a narrative that is almost constantly escalating without exception. there is very little downtime or breathing room in orv, which is insane for something that clocks in at over a million words, and somehow, it still works. i’ve never felt more like a frog in a pot of slowly boiling water than i did when i was reading orv and i can’t believe they pulled it off. it’s so interesting to read something like that.

- it is a tragedy without resorting to cynicism and a very adult narrative that’s really steeped in childlike wonder. i’m a big fan of cartoons made for children cartoons made for children are my favorite things to watch because i like media that is uplifting and encouraging. but of course children’s media will always be simplified and not very relatable to an adult. orv is very much a serious and heavy adult narrative, and a deeply tragic one at that, but this is never tragedy for tragedy’s sake. it’s a very compassionate piece of media over all, that holds a lot of reverence and sympathy for the ‘naive’ optimism of children that gets stripped down over time. if you, like me, feel more like a grown up child than an adult someday, i think it’ll hit for you. 

- if you are a person who has ever gotten deeply involved in media to ignore bad things happening in the real world, which i know you are because you are reading my tumblr blog, then there is going to be a lot about orv which resonates for you. a lot of metanarrative has attempted to comment on the voyeuristic nature of media obsession and storytelling, but a lot of it does so in a bizarre way that almost seems to shame the audience for having the audacity to... enjoy the product the creators have produced for them. orv is what i can only describe as a love-letter to its own audience, and it’s really a manifesto about how engagement with media can foster genuine human intimacy, even if initially it’s something you’re using as a crutch to replace that intimacy. the closest thing to orv’s metanarrative i can think of would be undertale. if undertale made you Feel some Things, orv is gonna make you Feel some Things as well. 

- it is extremely cathartic and meaningful. i am not exaggerating at all when i say that reading it gave me the closest thing i have ever felt to any sort of spiritual breakthrough. it helped unfuck my head a ton during some very grim times and i think the perspective it offers on the value of human life is a really really good one

- its really funny i promise

- its cringe in a way that’s hype

- please read orv please not even for me do it for yourself i want you to experience what i experienced for YOUR sake not mine

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Hi! I love everything that you write and heh I am a fan! 😄 tbh this is my first time requesting something on Tumblr! If you don't mind and if I am not being a bother...can you write about how the guys would react If MC suddenly starts making meme references? I don't know how I got the idea but I am REALLY curious. And love you! :D

Hiya! Tyvm for the kind words, and apologies that this took a while! I hope you have the chance to enjoy it regardless ❤️❤️❤️ Love you too, sweet pea! I promise to get to the next request you’ve sent ASAP~

Aight but this would be hilarious because the range of the reactions is just ungodly. I will be putting this under a cut after Napoleon so I don’t clog up everyone’s dash, but all the suitors are included below otherwise! 

Comte is the one that recognizes a few, but didn’t really stay in modern times long enough to be as well-versed as a Gen Z kid might. Regardless he finds the wittiness and absolute chaotic fuckery to be delightful, and will 100% support the harmless nonsense. It never fails to get a laugh out of him

Mozart that first day be like: “Buzz off MC I hate you” MC, because she likes swinging bats at wasps’ nests: “Well that’s not very cash money of you” Mozart: ?????????? Comte, giggling in the bg like the secret fae he is This one’s just because I’m petty, but after the events of Comte rt I just imagine them encountering Vlad again and MC’s just “I lived bitch.” while Comte is flipping him off behind her lkjahgkjhdsg

Comte @ Leo when he finds the latter under his desk: Had it not been for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you.  MC: wheezing from the hallway as she’s about to give him his letters

MC: So how was your day, honey? Comte: Good, good--briefly had to go beastmode upon the punk that pilfered my lint roller MC, biting her lip to keep from laughing: So does Leo still have his kneecaps? Comte: for now.

Comte, @ literally anyone upsetting the MC: I won’t hesitate, bitch

Comte: Be careful with my emotional baggage, it’s designer

MC: What if I was evil and ran towards you at very fast speeds Comte: My arms are strong, I would catch and hug you

Leo and Dazai are the ones that don’t have a single reference point but are filled with so much dumbass chaos energy that they just. Understand immediately???? Nobody knows how or why, but they just catch on so fast--adapt the language in a matter of weeks. Never underestimate the power of combined boredom, depression, and humor

I swear to god I just see MC taking them their Blanc/Rouge and being like “here you go sir, one enslaved moisture” and they just go fucking hog wild from day one. MC starts impersonating Theo when he leaves the room around Dazai, like fake deep voice “you all only hate me because you do not like me and I am mean to you. grow up.” Or like the MC meets a baby on her travels with Leo around town and she holds them and says v seriously and sagely “So you are Baby? I have heard tales of your exploits.” and Leo about loses his shit right there. They both think MC is the funniest person alive--they’ve never been more eager to throw a ring at someone in their entire life.

Also a bonus for my beloved Dazai:  MC, facing even the slightest inconvenience (like dropping her fork) in the most dramtic voice possible: Life is not daijoubu. Dazai: wheezing

MC, after watching Theo turn down a woman at the bar in the meanest way possible: bro quit letting the darkness consume you u r scaring the hoes Dazai, literally rolling around on the ground, half-drunk and dying:

MC, walking alongside Dazai and stopping to stare at her reflection in the River Seine. Dazai’s expecting some sad or twisted shit, since people often feel comfortable talking about those things around him, but instead she just: “Oh, it’s you. The source of all my problems.” And he about falls into the river from shock HAHAHA

At this point don’t be surprised if his next book is about an absolute madlad woman similar to MC

Napoleon finds it to be a delightful quirk more than anything? He doesn’t really understand it, but he finds it funny when they change their voice for effect or speak in exaggerated tones. If it’s just comprehensible enough for an outsider to understand--or Sebas gives him context--chances are it’ll send him into a laughing fit

For this one I just imagine MC singing that Ratatouille meme song obnoxiously bad while cooking, and Napoleon and Comte are just so wildly amused by it bc it makes zero sense and it’s only vaguely French at this point

MC @ Napoleon while they’re cooking brunch: Can I offer you a nice egg in these trying times?

MC, conflicted because she’s tired and wanted to sleep in but also got to see Napo’s cute sleeping face for a few hours: For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5AM on the day I can sleep in. Sebas: Early to bed and early to rise makes a person healthy, wealthy, and wise MC: early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch Napoleon: laughing in agreement

Isaac is the type to be bewildered and concerned at first (especially when he hears the more nihilistic ones hoOOOoooOO BOY) but eventually begins to understand it’s some bizarre attempt at humor (that hurts Zack baby). While some part of him laments that it reminds him of Dazai and he’s secretly jealous of how she and Dazai bond over it, he will sometimes join in the chaos when the mood strikes him and he’s feeling mischievous

Isaac: How are you feeling? MC: Oh, I’m not Isaac: seconds from dialing 911 Isaac: Are you okay? MC: Oh yeah dw I just suffer from that syndrome where your neutral expression makes you look like you’re an angry serial killer Isaac: say sike rn

Isaac, tutoring MC and correcting something:  MC, muttering while redoing it: The risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math. Isaac: unable to help a laugh

One time MC was avoiding Isaac for fear of hurting his feelings and he just confronts her like: Isaac: back by unpopular demand, me! What’s wrong, MC pls MC was so hecking proud of him

Isaac, telling MC about a recent discovery he learned at uni from another professor: bones typically heal stronger after they’ve been broken--so long as they’re set properly, of course MC, looking him dead in the eyes: So what you’re saying is that I should break every bone in my body until I become superhumanly powerful? Isaac: please do not, no

Mozart and Jeanne are just. Totally lost. Why are you talking like that??? Why are you making “crab hands”???? They don’t understand. Maybe never will. They reach a point where they just kind of laugh and shake their heads, endeared by the oddity after they’re used to it and have determined it isn’t a threat/insult. 

MC: It’s a cold and it’s a brooooken, Waluigi. Waaaaluigiiiii...waaaahluigi..... Mozart: surprised, then starts snickering and playing along on the piano

Arthur, asking MC very personal questions out loud because he is an idiot sometimes: Soooo MC, are you a top or a bottom? MC: I’m a threat. (If he asks a second time, the response will be “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy.”) Jeanne, fighting a smile:

MC, about to punch an asshole: Your free trial of being alive has ended Jeanne, seconds from laughing for the first time in 100 years:

Also, because I genuinely can’t help myself. You know that knight meme like “Parry this you fucking casual.” I cannot stress enough that it is literally the personification of Jeanne’s entire character. I’m not even joking.

Arthur and Shakespeare are utterly fascinated by the rapid evolution of wordplay and the sheer hilarity. They will ask all about these so-called “memes” and ask for examples of them if MC can show them (either somehow accessing her phone or drawing them). MC draws Arthur the knife cat meme and he about a s c e n d s at the hilarity of it all, points and yells THEO IS HOLDING THE KNIFE. He is correct. They will be delighted and follow along eagerly, and--god forbid--will make their own based on late 19th century struggles.

Is this where Shakespeare got the idea for “What, you egg? stabs him” and “You are a saucy boy.”? I’m too scared to ask. Don’t even get me started on “The Fool jingled miserably across the floor.” That one is just too on the nose...

I can’t even imagine what would happen to Shakespeare if MC like translated vines and memes into Ye Olde English around him. Imagine she’s at one of those noble balls and hears rumors of these two guys living together and they’re so obviously gay and he says “And those gents w’re roommates.” And in the most false surprised tone ever MC just replies “oh mine own god, those gents w’re roommates.” Imagine having a wife that’s just as hilarious as you are and hits you with all the force of a bag of wet mice every time you speak in retaliation, he’s going into palpitations.

Every time Arthur does smth stupid MC just: “I Pretend I Do Not See It.”

Vincent is tickled pink by MC’s penchant for finding joy and/or amusement in nearly everything they do, and he smiles gently when he sees them muttering and laughing to themselves. He wants to be able to join them in what they love, but he has a harder time following along and understanding the darker humor sometimes. Mostly gets confused??? Please give him the easier ones to mimic and laugh when he tries--or just include him in your jokes MC. He’s babie your honor...

But he also. Will not. Stand any kind of self-deprecation or borderline verbal self-harm. He’s usually very easygoing and calm, but for whatever reason that stuff makes him go deathly quiet and upset.

MC, after something goes horribly wrong, hugging Vincent: Oh Vince, we really in it now Vincent: giggling a little despite his worries, relaxing

MC: Theo stop simping for Vincent that’s my job

MC, when Theo leaves the room and she gets Vincent all to herself: The evil is defeated.

MC: And this is where I would put my will to live...if I h a d one! Vincent: ;-; MC: oh shit, oh fuck, I was only kidding Vincent wait (MC was subsequently lectured and loved on for many hours)

Theo is conflicted because on the one hand, he loves to see you smiling and having fun. On the other, you’re clowning as hard as Dazai and Arthur and he can only handle so many monkeys in his circus. Most of the time he will roll his eyes and be the straight man of this comedy, but you might find him cracking a smile--or accidentally letting a chuckle slip past his lips now and again.

MC, after meeting Theo: I’m a nice person, but I’m about to start throwing rocks at people.

Theo, those first days: Oh? You’re approaching me? Instead of running away, you’re coming right to me? MC: I can’t beat the shit out of you without getting closer.

Theo: Every time I ask MC to explain “vibe check” to me she hits me with some kind of improvised weapon

MC, after the “incident” (you know the one): This year, I lost my dear lover Theo Theo, in the distance: QUIT TELLING EVERYONE I’M DEAD! MC: ;-; sometimes I can still hear his voice...

Sebastian is last because oh boy. OH BOYYYYY I LOVE HIM. Okay so the way I see this happening with Sebastian is just. So wild. Because at first he’s t r y i n g so hard to be the proper butler man. He does not meme. But then he starts to drift closer to what Niles from The Nanny was, where he’ll quip and joke in private or when the situation is just beyond the amount of absurdity he can handle without making a snarky comment. Everyone in the house can’t fathom how Sebas and MC got so close so fast, but there are points where they’re just “Are they even speaking English anymore???” It’s 11 times funnier than normal because Sebas almost never smiles or laughs when memeing, the deadpan quality of his playing along sends MC every time

Has ABSOLUTELY said “HEY. PANINI HEAD. ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME???” jokingly when MC made a mistake in the kitchen. They laugh about it for y e a r s

MC: I can’t date someone who keeps a lamb as a pet, that’s so weird Sebas, brushing Lotte in front of MC: MC: MC: Okay, I will make an exception because she looks very polite

MC and Sebas, fully aware of the fame some of the men will reach in modern times: We will watch your career with great interest.  (I s2g that’s like half of Sebas’ rt right there I’m crying)

Sebas rt with Lotte be like that 500 dollar Mareep meme: “sometimes a family can be just a boy, his gf, and their 500 dollar two foot tall Lotte”