#how else would you follow up Mary Had a Little Lamb?

[ohblahdo]

So TIL Paul wasn't (just) being a weirdo with the polygon line in Hi, Hi, Hi: “I put a line in ‘Hi, Hi, Hi’ where I said, ‘Lie on the bed and get ready for my . . .’ [And I thought] I wonder what I put here?” he explained. “I used a really mad word from a surrealist play by a man called Alfred Jarry, a French playwright who wrote around 1900. He was a real nutter who used to cycle around Paris on his bike, and he used to have this thing called the Pataphysical Society. It was nothing but a drinking club, but to be a Professor of Pataphysics sounds great. I used that term in ‘Maxwell’s Silver Hammer’—‘he studied Pataphysical.’ At any rate, Jarry wrote this theatre sketch called Ubu Cocu, which has this character called Peardrop, who’s always going around worried about his ‘polyhedron.’ So I said, ‘polygon.’” (via The McCartney Legacy)

But also apparently this part of the song got a little extra embellishment: "One other late addition is undocumented, but it is claimed that the group took the sexual theme one step further, overdubbed the pulsing sound of a vibrator after the line 'get you ready for my polygon.'"

Somehow I don't have trouble believing that.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Judge Claude Frollo - Piano lesson

warning : obsession, age gap, reader is in her early 20s/ Frollo is in his early 60s, some touching, Frollo is just well Frollo, naive reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of the piano passed through the Judge's face as he ran his long thin fingers over the keys. The music in his room caught and the man fell into a melody, his thoughts stopped revolving around the eternal fight against injustice, sin and the gypsies and he could concentrate on his right and faith.

But whenever he played the higher notes, he could not help but let his thoughts go to her. This flower in the stone walls of a church. The church that protected her as the holy daughter of the Dean of Paris.

This sweet flower like from the prettiest dreams and poems did not let him go when he saw her for the first time. How she was wrapped in white and red cloth decorated with gold, lighting the candles on a dark morning in the church.

He watched her closely as her gentle hands held the long candle to light the other smaller ones. She stood on tiptoe to reach the higher ones and he saw her ankles peeking out from under her dress. He saw her hair around her neck and the small smile on her lips as she hummed a song. She was like the rebirth of Mary.

She was everything. Which is why he knew he had to have her, she had to be his. His lover, his wife, his own Mary. She had to be an angel, he had convinced himself by now. He had to have her for himself and he knew that he would use all his power to make this happen.

But before he could put his plans into action, he heard the knock on his door. This timid gentle knocking which he immediately recognized. He took his fingers from the piano, stood up, smoothed out his clothes and went to the door.

The wood of the stairs creaked and he knew that there were few chances that this worked. It was his power, influence and his will why she was here.

Would be taught by him and no one else. It was him. He was the reason. ,,My dear, come in, don't freeze to death," he said after opening the door. He saw the first drops of rain spreading over the city and the dark rain clouds gathering over the city.

A sign from God to warn him, but Frollo ignored it. Ignored everything when he was criticized because he was always right. ,,Thank you, my Lord," she said softly, her voice like a little bell on his ears before he entered and closed the door. Everything would be only a question until he got what he wanted.

,,Let me help you," he said calmly and his hands, obsessed with rings, were already on her clothes. He helped her to take off her coat and to his delight he saw the dress underneath. Not as thick as in the church itself, it was airier, looser and with a slight look at her body, it clung to her.

Around her neck the silver chain with the small sacred coin blessed by her father. An instance that would not and could not stop him. ,,What a pretty necklace, my lady," he murmured, sliding his index finger over it, knowing how she looked at him. How close he was to her breasts and she had not yet been touched.

This naivety and insecurity like a flower that showed its blossoms for the first time in the sun and not in the dark church. ,,A gift for my birth" she replied, even though he already knew it, he acted as if it fascinated him before leaving her and pointing upwards.

,,Please, after you" he insisted and let her go ahead for a few seconds. He saw her lift her dress slightly so she wouldn't get stuck climbing the stairs. She wore no stockings and he could easily see her ankles and legs.

How her body moved under the dress and he imagined how she would look under the fabric. Like a pretty innocent lamb she was in her cage. My pretty little bird came to his mind before he followed her up the stairs and led her into the music room.

,,Your father instructed me to improve your piano playing, he said it was the precision and grace that was missing" he briefly recounted the information he had received in the letter that had delighted him at the time. A letter that made the wolf lick his teeth. It was as good as his. He saw her nod as she sat down at the piano and carefully tapped it, her fingers hovering over the keys.

,,It's true, it's a little difficult to hit the keys perfectly, as good as I am at this piece of music," she admitted before she saw him instruct her to play a piece. He leaned slightly on the piece of music, his gaze always looking down at her as he watched the music go through the room again, which Meloldie seemed familiar to him.

He could easily see her decollete even if the fabric was high so he saw it from his position. Watching her move her fingers over the keys, he saw the mistakes she made and knew exactly what he had to do.

Wordlessly he went over to her, sat down next to her on the chair and began to play with her, feeling her initial confusion as she stopped short and a light touch of his fingers on hers told her to continue.

He wanted to touch more of her warm soft skin and a few moments after she started playing again he let his fingers slide over hers again. ,,You play well for your age, but you need practice, try to touch my fingers to the same keys" he knew and looked at her nodding knowing that in her unworldly way she trusted him and would do whatever he asked.

,,Thank you Frollo...for your honesty" she seemed to dare after a few more minutes, her gaze slipping from him after their eyes met back to the keys of the piano and he knew it would only take more flattery to have her.

They both continued to play for some time, her fingers repeatedly brushing against his and he let his fingers glide over hers.

For her a "normal" piano lesson but for him for the devil it was everything. The two played until the end of the day when the sun was already slowly threatening to go down and he playfully affected with a sigh detached from the piano.

He had done everything to delay this moment, he had even offered her a cup of wine to delay everything a little more. And he had to admit that the look on her face with red cheeks was very thrilling for him.

,,I think that's enough for today, it's time for you to return to your Lord Father" he said and offered her a hand to get up, which she accepted. Since she was not wearing gloves, they touched again and he felt how the hellfire seemed to blaze between them.

,,I thank you my Lord Frollo...for your hospitality and your help...you are a good man" he said and for the first time he saw her smile softly, the flower blossomed and he bowed slightly taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips.

A gesture that would be taboo for her father, a gesture of seduction and sin, but from him it was generosity. ,,You are an enchanting company, my dear flower, I expect to see you again in a few days," he replied, releasing her hand only when he saw the blush on her cheeks. How she lowered her eyes full of shame and flattery and could not help but smile a little more.

Before he helped her put on the matel again and take her to the waiting carriage outside. She hooked up with him for the few steps and he proudly led her beside him.

The wolf and his lamb. ,,May you rest well my lady and my music find you in your dreams" he said and charm flowed over his lips he knew she loved his voice she had listened to him for hours in church reading the bible even when no one was around and it was just the two of them. ,,I pray that I will dream of it my Lord" she said goodbye before the door of the carriage closed and she drove away from the wolf who was showing his teeth.

One bite and you're my little lamb he thought and the devilish grin settled on his lips as the infernal red of the evening sun fell on him and he went back to his hiding place. Greedily waiting for the next meeting, knowing that he would make her his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[12timetraveler]

Stars In Your Multitudes

Summary:

Hosea sits down with Sadie to offer her comfort and support after losing Jake.

Notes:

I was talking with a couple of my buddies and I brought up how it's such a missed opportunity to have Hosea the widower sit down with Sadie the widow to help her deal and give her advice. Per their request, I wrote a little something.

I know I should be working on the next chapter of Something In The Orange but this idea just wouldn't leave my head.

You can read the full story below or on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There she sat, on the edge of camp, tears streaming down her face. Not the loud, heartbroken sobs she'd let out in Colter. The sobs that Hosea felt to his very soul. There was no sound this time. Just tears streaming down her face as she clutched her arms to her abdomen, like she was trying to physically hold herself together.

Hosea knew that feeling. He'd spent plenty of time trying to hold himself together, afraid of what may happen if he let go and fell apart. Nights lost to the drink, days spent huddled under blankets trying to shield himself from the world. He understood all of this all too well.

He glanced down at the two bottles in his hand, both unopened. He'd need to be careful. It would be easy for Mrs. Adler to slip like he did. But one drink wouldn't hurt, and maybe it would help his words sink in.

Ever since Arthur explained to him the state they'd found Mrs. Adler in, he'd known he needed to speak with the fresh widow. He could relate to her in ways that no one else could. Maybe his wisdom and experience could help her.

Others had been there for her. Mary Beth and Abigail had both spent time sitting with her and comforting her. But neither of them had experienced a loss like this, and there was only so much comfort they could give from imagining how it felt. But he knew. He knew.

Taking a deep breath, he strode across camp to where she sat. She didn't even hear him approaching, or if she did, she didn't respond until he cleared his throat. Then she peered up at him like a lost lamb, though the wild look in her eyes warned him not to judge her as such.

“Mrs. Adler,” he greeted her, voice low and respectful. She seemed to flinch at the name. Her husband's name. “Mind if I sit with you?” He asked. She only shrugged in response, so he came and sat beside her, unable to suppress the groan as his joints protested to sitting on the ground.

He popped the tops off of the two bottles and placed one in her hand. “That is the only one of those you'll get from me. It's far too easy to fall into the bottle when you're feeling emotions like this.”

“Seen enough people do that,” she mumbled, taking a sip of the whiskey.

“I've been there myself,” he hummed, sipping from his own bottle. “When my wife died.”

Sadie looked over at him in surprise. “You were married?” Hosea nodded in response. “For how long?”

“Not nearly long enough,” he sighed. Sadie understood what he meant. Though she thought even 50 years of marriage to her Jakey would have been too short.

“After she died... The pain I felt was...” Hosea shook his head and took another sip. “I've been shot, stabbed, hung, beaten to an inch of my life. None of that was as painful as losing my dear Bessie.”

“That's a sweet name.” Sadie murmured.

“I always thought so too.” Hosea chuckled. “In the days that followed, I could hardly move from my bedroll. I just lay there, weeping and praying to a god I don't know that I believe in. Just to have her back in my arms. Finally after about a week I pulled myself out of bed, only to stumble into the bottle. I was drunk for a year after that. Honestly. I don't think a day went by where I could have been called sober. Eventually I pulled myself out, else I'd be stumbling around like the Reverend. But that doesn't mean it's been easy.”

Sadie hummed in response.

“Mrs. Adler... Sadie... Can I call you Sadie?” He asked. She nodded. “I'm not going to sit here and tell you that everything is going to be okay or that things will work out. Because that's not going to help you feel better, and those words are hollow,” he said. “But I am here to listen, if you want to talk. And if not, I'm happy to sit here with you as long as you'd like, in solidarity. A sort of vigil for those we both lost.”

Sadie only nodded, taking another sip from the bottle. The two sat in silence for a while, sipping from their bottles on occasion, but otherwise functionally ignoring the rest of camp, just looking out over the horizon as the sun began to creep down in the sky.

“Does the pain ever stop?” Sadie finally asked. “Or... Lessen?”

“Not really,” Hosea sighed. “But you grow, and you learn how to live with the pain. You... You find ways to honor them, and keep them close. Find time to remember the good times. The wound their passing left behind heals, but the mark on your heart never goes away. But would you really want it to?”

“Suppose not,” Sadie mumbled. “Sometimes it feel like it would have been easier to never know him but... God my life would never have been right without him. Jake and I was always sweet on each other.”

“That's beautiful,” Hosea hummed.

“My daddy died when I was a kid. 12, 13 something like that. That hurt but... I don't remember it being like this.”

“It's one thing to lose a blood relative. But it's an entirely different pain to lose someone you chose to love. One is not more painful than the other, but it’s different.” Hosea mused, tapping the neck of his bottle with his finger. “I think that's why the others don't really get it. We've all lost someone. But losing parents, siblings, it's different.”

“Mr. Matthews...” Sadie's voice cracked, and the tears started anew.

“Call me Hosea,” he soothed. He reached an arm out, resting it on her back. Only when Sadie leaned into his touch did he pull her against him, offering her his shoulder.

“It hurts so damn much, Hosea,” she gasped, allowing the older man to hold her close and comfort her.

“I know it does. I know,” he soothed.

“Jake was a good man. He died so terrible. He didn't deserve it.” She sobbed.

“No, he didn't. They rarely do.”

He held her as she cried. Not the hysterical weeping she'd done in Colter, but a heart wrenching round of sobs. For her love, the life they'd built, now lost, the things that had been, the things that should have been, all of it. He held her as the sun dipped down below the horizon. No one bothered them. If anyone could help Sadie, it would be Hosea.

Slowly her sobs died down to sniffles, all cried out. But she seemed a little more... Alive. Like she'd finally started to process it all.

“How did you meet?” He asked quietly.

“I knew Jakey my whole life. Ever since we were kids. Like I said, we was always sweet on each other. Even as kids. We'd play in the crick nearby, catch frogs and scare turkeys. He never treated me differently just because I'm a girl. Never told me I couldn't do something or should act more ladylike. He saw me as human. As equal.

“We didn't get married right away though. He wanted to serve in the army, like his pa had. He didn't serve long though. It sort of hit him part-way through his service that he weren't killing some big bad enemy. Just boys like him. When he came back, I think he expected I'd’ve moved on, met someone else. But I waited. He was broken after all that. But we got our little cabin in the mountains, got married. It was peaceful. Things were hard, sure. But we had each other and that was enough.”

Sadie wiped the moisture from her eyes, sitting up-right. “He was too good for this world.”

“So was my Bessie,” Hosea sighed. “Always saw the good in everyone. Even some skinny, feral conman with hopes of changing the world and righting wrongs far beyond anything one single man could hope to achieve. She took one look at me and it was like she saw to my soul. Past all the bounties and crimes she saw... Me.”

Both took a sip of their drink.

“I took one look at her and I was smitten.” Hosea sighed. “Bessie wasn't naive mind you,” Hosea continued. “She was a strong woman. She did just fine running with us.”

“Jake was the same. He was strong, and he'd seen how the world was. But still he tried to see the best in everything. He had to believe there was good in the world. I think he'd have lost his mind if he didn't.”

“He sounds like a good man.”

“I think I would have liked your Bessie. Not enough ladies like her in the world.”

The two fell silent for a time, finishing up their drinks as the stars began to speckle the sky. For the first time in weeks Sadie began to feel something akin to peace. It was nice to be able to mourn Jake like this, and remember the good things with Hosea.

“I think I need to head to bed,” Sadie eventually said. “But... Thank you, for this. It... It helped.”

“Any time, Sadie,” Hosea said, smiling warmly at her as she stood up. “I'm glad I could help. Please come find me if you ever need anything.”

A lot of the gang had said something similar to her, but with Hosea she knew she might actually take him up on that offer. She nodded a final goodnight before walking away, skirt swishing in the grass as she went.

Hosea sighed deeply as he looked back out over the canyon below. As he'd done many times, his eyes cast upward, to the sky. He wasn't sure what sort of afterlife he believed in. But it was easier to think there was something beyond. And he found himself talking to his beloved often.

“Look out for Jake Adler, my love,” he murmured. “And let him know I'll do everything I can for his Sadie.”

[inactive-hellish-hyperfixation]

Happy early birthday | Stephen Strange x gn!reader

genre: fluff

requested: no

summary: Stephen Strange becomes familiar with the soft violin playing of his new assistant at the New York Sanctum, and falls. Hard.

a/n: I didn't plan out what gender reader was gonna be for this, so please let me know if there were any gendered terms i need to fix! Also, his birthday is November 18th. Also also, I'm considering making a second part to this, so lmk if thats something you'd like!

word count: 2.4k

To anybody else, the sounds of the violin echoing through the seemingly endless expanse of the sanctum may have been eerie. Scary, even. Doctor Strange wasn’t anybody else. To him, each stroke of the bow across the four strings was as close to heaven on earth as he could get. The melody flowed not only through the building but through his entire body, intertwining with each muscle and bone, filling him to the brim with relaxation and comfort. He never was very music-inclined, the only experience being in the OR when he played the song guessing games with the other surgeons to help pass the time, but this touched every musical cell in his body and brought them to life. 

It began when you became a resident of the sanctum. Mostly to be backup for when Stephen couldn’t be there, Wong assigned you to become an assistant to the master of the New York sanctum (you liked to call it co-master). It took a while for Stephen to drop his serious exterior around you, but considering the fact that the two of you spent the majority of your time together, it was hard for the man to keep it up. More than that, though, the sorcerer found that he had a weak spot for you. You who stayed up to greet him when he came back home late, waiting with drooping eyes and a smile just to make sure he was safe; you who reminded him to take breaks, eat, and stay hydrated throughout the day; you who healed his wounds when he came back from a fight bloodied and bruised; and finally, you who played the violin at late hours of the night so beautifully that it soothed the fear from his nightmares or relaxed him when his mind couldn’t shut off. 

The first time Stephen heard it, he had woken up in a cold sweat after having a recurring nightmare of the night of the car crash. He was disoriented for a few minutes, trying to catch his breath and calm down, when he heard it. It was soft and far away, as though it were coming from a room down the hallway, but it was there. It was so soothing he didn’t realize his breathing had regulated and his grip on the sheets had loosened. His first instinct was to get closer, to hear it clearer, to fill his mind up with the gorgeous melody, but his body was tired and he fell back asleep soon after laying down. 

The second time Stephen heard it, he was sitting at a desk in his room poring over a number of books he borrowed from the library at Kamar-Taj. It was late and he couldn’t help but hear your chastising voice telling him “you should sleep more, Stephen! You of all people should know how important sleep is as a doctor. Besides, you get even grumpier than usual when you sleep late.” He chuckled at the thought before his mind wandered off. He wondered if you were asleep, what you would be doing awake, what you were dreaming about, and generally thought about you until the sound of the violin wandered into his room. 

It sounded more like warm ups at the start. Notes ascending up then down with varying rhythms and speeds and a couple simple tunes like Twinkle Twinkle Little Star or Mary Had A Little Lamb. A few minutes of that passed by when the first piece began. He recognized it, though he didn’t know the name. Stephen leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, allowing himself to thoroughly enjoy the soothing melody. When that piece ended and another one began, he stood and left the room, determined to find the source and get closer to it. 

He tread softly through the hallway, following the sound of the now lively music. His search ended when he saw your form in front of the large circular window, body moving accordingly to what you were playing. You swayed slightly at slower parts, slightly dipped down as emphasis on heavier notes, and sometimes even did turns on rests, soft laughter becoming part of the music. Stephen couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was captivated by the passion you exuded and the gorgeous melody that you produced. The moonlight and soft lamplight only highlighted the beauty of the scene as it hugged your form, making you look like you were glowing. 

He stood there and watched you play from beginning to end without a sound, and only after you began putting the instrument in its case did he snap out of it and approach you. He bathed you in genuine compliments and the two of you somehow ended up sitting together on Stephen’s bed with you talking about how you came to love the violin and him absorbing every word as though they were water and he were a man stranded in the Sahara Desert. A few hours later, Stephen woke to the sight of you still sleeping peacefully next to him in an undeniably funny, yet endearing because it was you, position.

That day was still fresh in his mind as though it were mere minutes ago. Every time he thought about whether that was because of how breathtaking you were or because it was when he realized he was in love with you, his answer was both. He fell in love with you and your playing months ago, but the flame burned brighter than ever. In fact, every interaction he had with you only added fuel to it. 

***

“Who pissed in your breakfast?” 

You were currently in a corner of the library tucked away somewhere in the sanctum, full bookshelves creating a nice secluded area and a large window allowing natural evening light into the room. You were standing in front of the wall, a couple pages of music sheets taped along it, and holding your violin. Stephen happened to find you while he was “looking for a book.”(In truth, he was looking for you as he hadn’t seen you in a couple hours and missed you, but he would never admit it.) His initial relief at seeing you in the library dissipated when he noticed the distressed expression on your face. 

“Myself, apparently. I don’t know why I can’t get this right.” You sighed and placed your instrument on the desk next to you before dragging the chair away from the desk and flopping down onto it. 

“How long have you been at this?” Stephen approached you and placed a tentative hand on your shoulder, noticing the exhaustion in your eyes and hair that looked like upset hands ran through them multiple times. You leaned your head back onto the chair and looked at him. 

“Not sure. A couple hours, I think? The sun moved a lot since I started.” Knowing the signs of overworking as a person who overworks himself, Stephen grew worried. 

“Have you eaten anything? Or at least drank some water?” Your eyes widened in the slightest, so small most people would’ve missed it, but he noticed. He grew more suspicious when you turned your head to look at the sheet music covered wall in front of you.

“Yeah, of course I have.” As if on cue, your stomach made a strange gurgling sound. You now turned your head entirely away from the sorcerer to the desk on your left. Stephen rolled his eyes and quickly portaled away. Just as you started questioning what he was doing, he portaled back with a few takeout boxes of food and two plates in his hands. It smelled amazing. Your stomach made another embarrassing sound. 

“Let’s eat.” 

It turns out that Stephen had popped into your favorite restaurant and bought dinner for the both of you, being somewhat lacking in the cooking department. Now the two of you sat at the desk, Stephen taking his time with his meal while you tried your hardest to not shove the entire plate down your throat. 

“Now that you’re less hungry, what’s so important that you worked on it for multiple hours straight with no break or food?” As a response, you stared at your food more intensely and shoveled more of it into your mouth for more time to think as you chewed. 

“It’s nothing. Just a piece I like, nothing special.” You decided to keep it vague, and the sorcerer obviously didn’t believe a word judging by the exasperated sigh that left his lips.

“You look worse than I did after spending 5 years in oblivion, y/n. Cut the crap.” You finally looked up from your food to make eye contact with the man sitting across from you. At first glance, he appeared to be irritated at the lack of a direct answer, but you knew better. You saw the worry in his eyes and in the furrow of his brow, and felt guilty for making him concerned about you. 

“Beethoven’s Romance in F major,” you mumbled and looked back down at your plate, unable to keep eye contact anymore.

“What? Is that the song you were working on?” The tone of his voice became a little softer, recognizing the hesitance in your voice at sharing this information with him. 

“Piece—but yeah. Beethoven’s Romance. It’s supposed to be played with an orchestra, but I changed it to make it an unaccompanied solo." You were avoiding the real point of practicing this piece in particular, and he knew it. 

"Why is it bothering you so much?" At this point, exasperation was entirely replaced with curiosity. 

"It's the 17th of November today." You said it as though the date was supposed to explain everything. It didn’t. 

"And? What does that have to do with anything?" At this, you finally looked back up at him and huffed, embarrassed to explain. 

"What can you give a man who has everything?" The confusion didn’t leave his face, so you huffed and steeled your nerves before continuing to explain. 

“That’s the question I’ve been asking myself for about a month now. Wong told me your birthday was coming up and I didn’t have any good ideas for a present, but I didn’t want to get you something shitty, I care about you too much to do that!” At this, Stephen raised an eyebrow and you felt your face get hot, but you pressed on. “So I decided to play something for you, since you say you like it so much.” 

“And you chose something called Romance?” 

“That, and Elgar’s Salut D’amour. Means greeting of love.” 

Silence followed your words and you risked taking a glance at his face, a million possibilities of what expression he would have running through your mind. Out of all of them, you never could have imagined the red that dusted his cheeks and soaked the tips of his ears. 

“You’re not very subtle, are you?” His lips turned up into a smirk, and a laugh followed. Not the mocking kind—he wouldn’t do that to you—but the kind that comes out instinctively when you don’t know how to react. You didn’t know whether that was a good thing or not. Subconsciously, your muscles tensed up even more and you felt tears pricking at your eyes. Looking away was the safest option in trying not to show your vulnerability. 

“Shit, I didn’t mean it like that.” You felt a hand fall shakily on top of your own. “Hey, look at me,” his voice was soft in comparison to the spoken words. With a deep inhale, you managed to force your head back into position to look at the man sitting across from you.

“I couldn’t ask for a better gift. Nobody’s ever even considered giving me something so personal and intimate before, and I couldn’t imagine it being anybody else.” The redness subsided only slightly, but the smile on his face went from amused to warm—maybe even loving. The hand that only lightly grazed yours now grasped it, trembling yet firm. 

“I… You like it? You don’t… hate me for it, or anything?” You asked tentatively, shoulders beginning to drop and tears no longer threatening to fall from your eyes. 

“I love it. Though, I could think of one thing that would make it better,” he spoke with a teasing tilt now, sensing that your anxiety was abating. “Tonight—now, if possible—do you want to go on a date?” At the words, you burst out into a wide grin.

“Absolutely not.” You pulled your hand away from Stephen’s and stood, placing your hands on your hips. The shocked look on his face only served to make the smile on your face bigger. “It’s not your birthday until tomorrow, and this is supposed to be a birthday present! Unfortunately for you, I don’t give early gifts.” You reached for his hands and tugged him out of his chair into a standing position, the man now wearing a smile that was smaller in size in comparison to yours, but held the same amount of bliss. You turned away, made a portal to his room, and lightly pushed him in. 

“You don’t get to listen to my playing until tomorrow, got it?” At this, the sorcerer rolled his eyes and pulled you into the portal too, holding you close with hands at your waist. 

“What about a preview kiss? Can I have one of those?” He leaned down until your faces were so close he could graze the tip of his nose against yours, and could feel your breath. Unsurprisingly, it smelled like dinner, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at that moment. You made a similar movement, leaning up until you felt the scratchiness of his facial hair, made a humming sound as an indication that you were about to bring your lips to meet his, and left a peck right on the corner of his mouth before pulling away entirely to step back into the other side of the portal. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” You waved, took in one last look at the Sorcerer Supreme standing there, arms wrapped around air, leaning down at an awkward angle, a dazed look on his face as though he hadn’t processed what just happened quite yet. Then you closed the portal. 

Stephen ended up staying in that position in the middle of his room for about a minute before finally unfreezing, and let out the most genuine laugh he’d had in a long while. Although he could’ve easily made a portal to go back to the library and get revenge on you, he decided to listen to your words and eagerly got ready for bed, mind racing with all the ideas of what he could do for his first date with you, his violinist. 

[angedemystere]

I’m nursing a theory about something that might happen in Season 3 of The Chosen. I’m going off bits of BTS photos and videos. While this is just a theory, it contains potential SPOILERS, so read below the cut if you’re ok with that.

But here’s a clue: water

(Also I wouldn’t be surprised if other fans have come up with this, but I haven’t seen it on Tumblr, so dibs)

This started from a BTS photo I saw on Pinterest, and I don’t know yet if it came from one of the BTS photos or videos on the Chosen YT channel. I’ll check through the latest livestream to make sure. Anyway here’s the picture I found:

So.... lots of interesting stuff!

Like, why are some of the people here completely drenched? Why is Jesus completely drenched?

I first thought this could be from a scene following an adaption of the storm on the sea and Jesus calming it. Wouldn’t be surprised if everybody on the boat, including Jesus, got a good soak during that adventure. But then I noticed Tamar and Mary aren’t at all wet. If they were on the banks of the Sea of Galilee, why wouldn’t they be a little wet from the storm, too? I also think it might be early to have the storm on the sea since we’ve still got 4 seasons to fill in. 

Some time after first speculating on this picture, I saw the BTS video where this image didn’t show up, but there was a shot of Jesus leading his followers to the shoreline of the sea. I don’t mean to a boat - literally to the water. 

This could actually be the Jordan River and not the Sea of Galilee. Even if it isn’t, it could be related to baptism. 

In John 4: 1-3 we get this:

So then, when the Lord knew that the Pharisees had heard that He was making and baptizing more disciples than John (although Jesus Himself was not baptizing; rather, His disciples were), He left Judea and went away again to Galilee.

This actually happens before the encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well, but we already know the show moves around some of events of Scripture, so this episode could still be what the photo is from. 

“But we don’t see anyone other than the disciple here,” you might be saying. That’s true, which makes me think that the disciples aren’t baptizing other people yet. What if here Jesus is teaching them how to baptize? Makes sense. Even with Andrew and Philip, just because they watched and followed John the Baptizer doesn’t mean they know exactly what to do. Or maybe they know enough to help with demonstrations for the others. But Jesus might have offered Himself as a guinea pig for practice to get the disciples comfortable with the ritual. And then Younger James and Judas volunteered afterward. 

Now, if this all turns out to be true, the next question I think is: who goes first? Who gets to dunk Jesus? My first assumption was Simon Peter. He has a tendency to take action first, for better or worse. But as I thought on it, Andrew struck me as a better choice. 

For one, he’s seen the Baptizer do this, so he has more to go on even while Jesus provides instructions. But this could also be a crucial moment for his arc. Remember, Andrew is the most distressed (or at least as distressed as Jesus) about John’s life sentence. It hits him hard as a former student who believed in his message and identification of Jesus as the Lamb of God. Now he’s fearful about the same fate falling on Jesus, as shown in season 2. 

We also know from BTS videos that Andrew will have a scene with John in season 3. This arc is definitely still in play.

Imagine Jesus asking Andrew to help him demonstrate. Imagine Andrew being reluctant but obedient, stepping into the water with his rabbi until they’re waist-deep, and Jesus starts explaining, for Andrew and everyone else, what to do and say for the baptism. And Andrew starts to break. Maybe he almost backs out - how can he do what his former rabbi did when that man is locked away for the rest of his days? It would be replacing his teacher, which means recognizing that he’s all but gone. And Andrew is struggling to accept that. 

Jesus knows this. Of course He does. So He quietly reassures Andrew, tells him that he can honor what John did and sacrificed by carrying on his work. John knew it was never about himself but about the Kingdom, the salvation of God’s people, and when he was no longer around, someone else would continue to bring God’s Kingdom to the world. 

And we know this is all foreshadowing what will happen to Jesus, too. Andrew doesn’t realize it, but maybe he gets a glimpse of that truth, which frightens him. But he listens and starts to come to terms with it, and he completes the demonstration with his Rabbi. 

So yeah, no idea if that’s what will happen in the show, but it would be cool. And hurtful. 

[ssadumba55]

Poly! Caballeros Raising Huey, Dewey and Louie Headcanons

BONUS POST! Because I probably won't have a post tomorrow, I just wanted to do something fun and low energy. Me and my friend have kind of invented our own little universe in which Panchito, Jose and Donald raise Huey, Dewey and Louie, so here are some of the headcanons I've invented for it.

These are in no particular order and also you can fit them into canon however you'd like, but they follow DuckTales 2017 canon because I'm trash for that show.

Huey, Dewey and Louie would be trilingual. They’d speak Spanish, English and Portuguese because you can’t tell me Panchito and José wouldn’t teach them their own languages and it would annoy Donald when they talk in another language because even though he spends a lot of time around José and Panchito he still can’t speak Portuguese or Spanish very well

Because it’s canon that the boys call Donald Uncle Donald, the boys also call Panchito and José uncle. Maybe even tío

The boys know exactly which uncle to talk to about certain things. If they need serious help or advice with something Uncle Donald, if they know Uncle Donald won’t like something Uncle José and Uncle Panchito usually when they need someone to check for the monster under their bed

Cuddle piles of the 6, Donald usually at the centre

You cannot tell me Panchito hasn’t caught at least one kid in his sombrero. He’s got quick reflexes and his hat is big enough to comfortably fit a kid

Taking the boys out to arcades and amusement parks together, mostly because Panchito and José want to go

You can’t tell me the Caballeros don’t carry a boy each on their shoulders

The boys favourite Halloween costume (that they refuse to take off) for an entire year is dressing up as their uncles

Donald is stay at home dad while both Panchito and José work and he’s fine with that because he’s much better at taking care of his boys then doing a job plus he doesn’t need a job if both the other two are working

Flight attendant José likes to brag about Panchito and Donald wherever he goes and to whoever will listen on his travels, it makes him feel better about being away from them for so long.

And and. He keeps baby pictures of Huey, Dewey and Louie because even though they’re not technically his kids he wants to show them off damn it.

"Look how fast they can run now, Donald is always chasing them everywhere!"

and Panchito is an aspiring musician but he’s stuck as a children’s party entertainer right now (even though José and Donald insist he’ll go really far!).

When he isn’t helping Donald wrangling their own kids or playing “Mary Had a Little Lamb” for someone else’s kids, he’s writing music on his own (usually with Donald, José or both as his muse).

Donald has almost no life outside of his family, he doesn’t talk to Scrooge anymore, he doesn’t adventure because it’s too risky, he won’t even let José talk him into travelling because he’s too worried something will happen and no one will be there for the boys.

He’s not only stay at home dad, he’s overly anxious stay at home dad.

Somehow, Huey, Dewey and Louie are harder to wrangle than their mother was (especially Dewey) and he’s got his work cut out for him.

He doesn’t believe in “me time” but sometimes if they catch him in a good mood, Panchito or José can sneak in a little date night.

One on one date nights aren’t ideal, but Donald doesn’t trust anyone outside of them to watch the boys so they’ll have to wait a while for trio dates again

Imagine Panchito and José are at work and Donald has to bring the triplets with him to the grocery store.

He ends up buying lots sweets and toys would cause even though he’s a stern parent when Panchito and José are there he’s a sucker for them

but somebody has to be the responsible adult when Panchito and José are around because they won’t

Imagine José coming home from a flight and Panchito, Donald and the boys waiting for him at the airport

Tackle hugs from Huey, Dewey and Louie

Panchito and José judging Donald's naming choices

[the-iceni-bitch]

Lost in the Lapse Again

Pairing: Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x dark!fem Reader

Words: ~3.5k

Summary: Mr. Freezy’s domestic bliss gets jarringly interrupted

Warnings: DARK, explicit language, explicit sexual content (f receiving oral sex, over the pants foot job, unprotected vaginal sex), non con aspects, alcohol consumption, mentions of violence, SMUT!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: ::Just a lot of evil giggling:: I’m not sorry.

Robert growled into his beer as he listened to his bitch wife chatter away in the kitchen, his dumbass kid playing with some stupid truck on the floor in front of him.

All his wife had been talking about for the past week was her new friend Suzy. Suzy was so funny and smart and it was so sad that she couldn’t find a man. He’d finally broken down and let her invite the bitch over for dinner, just to shut her up so he wouldn’t blow her brains out.

“I’m so excited for you to meet her, sweetie.” His wife cooed as she set the bread and cheese on the table. “I still wish you could’ve invited one of your coworkers to set her up with.”

“Really don’t think she’d be interested in any of them.” He said with an eye roll, smirking at the idea of introducing his wife’s sweet little friend to one of the gangsters he spent his days with.

He chugged the rest of his beer and moved to grab another from the fridge when there was a sudden knock on the door. His wife let out a small sound of excitement as she headed to answer it, removing her apron and putting it over the back of one of the chairs.

“Suzy, I’m so happy to see you! Lemme take your coat.” He wife said happily when she opened the door, Robert grunting as he searched for his bottle opener.

“Mary! Thank you so much for inviting me! I hope red is ok?” Robert cocked his head to the side as he continued his search. That voice sounded familiar.

“Red is perfect! Thank you dear! This is my son Billy.”

“Nice to meet you Billy, that’s a pretty cool fire truck you’ve got there!”

Robert set down his bottle with a crash as he growled under his breath and stormed into the living room.

“And here’s my husband Robert! This is Suzy, sweetheart.”

You grinned as you turned to face him, shifting your weight and offering him your hand as he stared at you murderously.

“So nice to meet you Robert.” You purred, fighting a smirk as he did his best to school the expression of rage that was taking over his face.

“Mmhm.” He grunted, taking your hand and squeezing it a little tighter than necessary as he shook it in greeting. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Dinner is almost done, why don’t you two chat while I finish up?” Mary said as she moved back into the kitchen.

“Sure, I’d love to wash up though. Could you show me to the bathroom, Robert?” You said, giving Pronge an innocent look that made him snarl.

He just grumbled and wrapped his hand around your upper arm as he dragged you out of the living room and down the hall. You beamed at him as he shoved you into the bathroom, laughing as he followed after you and slammed the door behind him.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Y/N?” He hissed, backing you against the sink as he clenched his fists to keep from strangling you.

“Aww, you’re not happy to see me, baby?” You teased, propping your ass on the sink and running your foot up the inside of his leg. “I was just keeping an eye on you when I ran into that sweet little wife of yours. What a peach she is!”

“Keeping an eye on me?” He growled as he fought the urge to shove his hands under your skirt. “Who told you to do that?”

“It’s just my own little side project.” You purred, spreading your legs wide and running your knees up the side of his body as you locked your ankles together behind his back. “Hadn’t seen you in so long, I was starting to get a little worried.”

He looked down and groaned. Your skirt had slid up your thighs until it was pooled around your waist, giving him a perfect view of your glistening pussy because of course you weren’t wearing panties.

“We haven’t needed each other for any jobs, you bitch.” He seethed, trying to ignore you as you ran your fingers over your slick coated folds, biting your lip as you started to circle your clit. “You can’t just walk in here and fuck up my life.”

“Oh please.” You said with an eye roll, sliding one finger inside yourself and moaning softly. “You trying to tell me that precious little thing out there is taking care of all your needs? I bet she cries any time you even bring up a position other than missionary.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He growled, wrapping his hand around your throat as you grinned at him, choking on a whine as you shoved another finger into your aching pussy.

“Mmm, don’t squeeze too hard, Bobby.” You wheezed, grinding your palm against your clit as he bent to run his teeth over your jaw. “I know you love marking me up, but what would that pretty little wife of yours think?”

“I said shut up.” He snarled, gripping your wrist with his free hand and drawing your hand up to his face, inspecting your slick coated fingers closely before wrapping his lips around them and sucking them clean with a groan. “Fuck.”

He smashed his lips to yours in a desperate kiss, his teeth tugging against them incessantly before he released your throat and knelt between your legs. You bit your lip to stifle a cry as he sank his teeth into your thigh before mouthing hungrily at your sex. His tongue slipped between your folds and swirled over your clit.

His fingers pressed into your thighs with a bruising grip as you wound your hand in his hair and pressed him into you further. You turned the water on behind you to cover your whimpers as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard.

“Dinner’s ready!” Mary called at the same time you came with a moan, your release flowing over his mouth and chin and soaking his goatee as your thighs tried to suffocate him.

“Don’t fucking say a word.” He seethed at you as he turned you around and pulled your skirt down to cover the marks he’d left on your thighs before leaning past you to splash some water on his face.

You just smirked as you felt his cock pressing against your ass, washing your hands under the water and humming contentedly to yourself.

He wrenched the door open and stormed out to the dining room, shooting you a warning glance as you followed after him.

“This looks so good, Mary. I’m such a horrible cook I can’t even imagine how much work this was.” You said, beaming at his stupid wife as you sank into your seat.

“Oh please, it was nothing!” She said waving you off as she moved to pour the wine. “I’m so glad to have someone else to cook for, Robert here has gotten so stoic about my food.”

She slapped his arm playfully as he let out a noncommittal grunt, avoiding making eye contact with you as he sank into his seat at the head of the table, right next to yours.

You took a sip of wine and leaned back in your seat, crossing your legs and grabbing a slice of bread.

He gripped his beer bottle tightly as he felt your foot running up the inside of his calf. You just grinned when he shot you a look, stilling your movement as Mary put a serving of lamb on your plate.

“So what is it you do for work, Robert?” You asked with a smirk as you took a bite of food, humming at the taste and giving Mary a look of approval as you tucked in.

“Oh, Robert owns and operates his own ice cream truck business!” Mary said with a proud smile, completely oblivious as you turned your body to press your foot into her husband’s crotch.

“Wow, that is impressive.” You murmured, trying not to look too satisfied as you felt him squirm underneath you. “I can’t believe a little ice cream business is enough to pay for this beautiful house.”

“Well, he works very hard to provide for me and little Billy.” She said as she beamed at you, still unaware of the fact you were about to make her husband come in his slacks.

“Yeah? You must be so proud of your daddy Billy.” You said with a smirk as you felt warmth bloom underneath the sole of your foot and slipped it back into your pump.

The stupid kid just shrugged and shoved his food around his plate, and you did your best to keep from rolling your eyes at the child. You fucking hated kids.

You made idle chitchat with Mary for the rest of the meal, lying to her about every aspect of your life as Robert glared at you and you pointedly ignored him. Mary started to clear the table when you were all finished, humming a little song to herself as she took away your plates.

Robert was still staring daggers at you as he untucked his shirt, hoping it would cover the evidence of his orgasm as he stood up to follow you to the bar.

“You need to fucking leave.” He seethed at you, pouring himself a scotch and downing it in one gulp.

“Oh, Robert.” You huffed sarcastically as you poured yourself a gin. “You are a terrible host.”

“Get out of here or I swear to god...”

“What, you gonna kill me in front of your little family?” You whispered, grinning at Mary as she flitted back into the room, already looking a little tipsy from the four glasses of wine she drank as you handed her a brandy.

“I’m so glad you could join us, Suzy.” She slurred, leaning against the bar and giving you a sloppy grin. “We should do this more often. Maybe next time I’ll invite my cousin George. He’s such a great guy.”

Robert snorted into his scotch at the image of that simpleton trying to make a move on you. You would eat him alive.

“That sounds so nice.” You said, taking a sip of gin and grinning at her. “I did have a wonderful time.”

“Yeah, we all did, Suzy was just telling me she had to go though.” Robert grumbled, giving you a meaningful look.

“True, I have an early day tomorrow.” You hummed as you downed the rest of your drink. “Should really get back to my place.”

“Oh, shoot! Well, Robert be a gentleman and walk her out to her car.” She ordered, taking his glass and shoving him to follow after you. “Wait, I’ll come too!”

You chewed on your lip as Robert trailed after you, grabbing your coat and slinging it over your shoulders as the woman babbled like a fool. She wrapped her arm around his waist as she wobbled on drunk legs and you shot him a wink as he tried to keep her from falling.

You climbed into the drivers seat and stuck the key in the ignition, frowning when the engine just clicked.

“Oh, no is there a problem?” Mary asked, looking a little giddy at the idea. “Do you have to stay? Robert, check under the hood for her and see if you can fix it.”

He rolled his eyes as he moved to check your engine, clenching his jaw and wrenching the hood up with a grunt. He frowned when he got a look at the engine. Your distributor rotor was missing, and there was not way that was an accident.

“I would call a tow truck but I think they’re all closed.” You said innocently, but he didn’t miss the mischievous gleam in your eye.

“Nonsense, you’ll spend the night here and we’ll call in the morning.” Mary said as Robert slammed the hood closed and fought the urge to scream at you.

“Aww, that’s so sweet of you.” You purred as you slid out of your car and followed her back into the house, ignoring the look Robert was giving you.

“Don’t be silly.” She said as she staggered over the threshold. “I’ll make up the guest room for you. Sweetie, can you get Billy ready for bed?”

He just grumbled to himself as he ushered his moron son towards his room, barely paying attention as he instructed him to start brushing his teeth.

Having you in his house was like torture. He wasn’t going to try to deny that he hadn’t been thinking about you since your last job, that’s all he’d been thinking about. But this was his life, sure he hated it, but it was a good cover. And all he could think about right now was storming into the guest room and fucking you until you were screaming, who cares if his wife or kid heard. That frigid bitch hadn’t even put out in months and his cock needed some sort of release.

He shut off the light and sighed once the stupid kid was in bed, shutting the door and moving to his own bedroom.

“Isn’t Suzy so great?” Mary said as she slipped into the dumbest looking nightgown he’d ever seen. “I can’t believe she’s still single.”

“Right.” He muttered, slipping out of his clothes and moving towards the bathroom to wash up.

He listened to her idiotic chatter as he got ready for bed, his pajama bottoms slung low on his hips when he finally made his way back to the bedroom. Mary was passed out on the bed as he shut off the light and climbed in beside her.

You were still occupying his thoughts as he tried to fall asleep, his cock hardening as he thought about leaving pretty bruises on your skin while he split you open. He flipped onto his stomach and pressed his dick into the bed as he tried his best to drift off, grinding his hips into the mattress to try to relieve some of the tension.

He turned his head to look at the stupid cunt passed out beside him. His hand snaked under her gown as she snored lightly, sliding up her thigh as he tried to think of some way he could relieve the ache in his groin. She gave a small noise as his hand found its way to the apex of her thighs and he grunted as he found her fucking bone dry, per usual. There was no way he was falling asleep, so he got out of the bed with a moan and headed to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

The moonlight was coming through the shades as he walked in, and he grumbled when he found you leaning against the counter smoking a cigarette, bathed in silvery light. You grinned at him as you held out the cigarette, the sleeve of your robe slipping down your shoulder enough to let him know you weren’t wearing anything underneath it.

“That stupid cunt pass out yet?” You asked as he took a drag, not bothering to pull your robe back into place as his gaze raked over you. “She do anything to help you out baby?”

He snarled at you and tossed the butt into the sink before stepping into you and ripping the robe off as he fought the urge to sink his teeth into your neck.

“You fucking bitch.” He hissed as his fingers dug into your breasts painfully, making you arch into his grip with a gasp. “Who gave you the right to come in here and talk to my wife, my kid?”

You whined as he bent to bury his face in your tits, his teeth skimming over the slopes of your breast as you felt arousal seep down the insides of your thighs.

“You fucking love it, Pronge.” You muttered as you wrapped your legs around his hips and buried your hands in his hair as he bit and sucked his way up to your throat. “You need me. That dumb little wife of yours can’t do anything for you. I bet she’s never even sucked that big cock of yours.” You brought a hand down to palm the bulge in his pajamas as you grinned before tugging his bottoms down and wrapping your hand around his dick. “That stupid cunt even notice when you come home with my marks all over you, or does she only let you fuck her with your clothes on like a good little catholic boy?”

He grabbed a dish towel and folded it lengthwise before wrapping it around your throat and turning you around with a growl. You moaned as he shoved his cock inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt as he tightened the towel around your neck.

He wrenched you up against his chest as he started to fuck you, turning your face with his grip on the towel so he could run his tongue over your cheek in a heavy stripe as you mewled.

“You goddamn bitch.” He snarled into your hair as his hips slapped against your ass, his grip on the towel growing tighter as you fought the urge to pass out. “I oughta blow your brains out the back of that pretty skull of yours. I’d do it if I didn’t think it’d start a fucking war.”

You just laughed in a thin wheeze as he pounded into you, your pussy fluttering around him as he restricted your air flow.

“Sure you would.” You said hoarsely as you thrust yourself back on his cock, meeting each of his thrusts desperately. “You’d miss this pussy after a week. You’ve never had a fuck as good as me, Pronge.”

He bit down on your ear lobe and brought a hand around to pinch your clit as you came apart. You reached over your shoulder to grip his hair as your chest heaved and your pussy clamped down on him, your release leaking out around his cock as you swallowed a scream.

You whined as he pulled out of you before throwing you to the floor and pouncing on you, drawing your knees up to your waist as he speared into you and you bit back a cry.

“You keep that fucking whore mouth shut.” He seethed as he ground against you, his cock already starting to twitch inside you.

He clapped his hand over your mouth as he thrust into you, grinding against you with each push of his hips as you tried to arch your back into him. You whined under his hand as he brushed his lips over your collarbone before bringing his face up to meet your eyes.

“God, you cunt.” He moaned as he felt you clamp down on him. “You goddamn slut.”

He ripped his palm from your mouth and crashed his lips to yours, swallowing your shriek as your orgasm crashed over you, your fingers raking over his back and leaving deep scratches as you squirted your release all over his kitchen floor. You grinned as he groaned into your mouth and filled you with his cum, his hips stuttering as he fucked his spend into you until it was leaking out around his cock.

You hummed contentedly as he rolled off of you, squeezing your thighs together as he stood up with a hiss and scowled at you over his shoulder.

“You look so good with my marks on your back, Bobby.” You purred, standing up and stretching. “You go ahead and crawl back into bead with that dead fish of a wife, I bet she won’t even notice.”

“You need to quit talking about my wife, kitten.” He grumbled as he pulled his pajamas back on. “And quit calling me that.”

You pulled your robe back on and slid next to him as he pulled a cigarette out of the drawer and lit it.

“I think you like it.” You murmured, taking the cigarette when he offered it and taking a long drag.

The phone rang suddenly and he moved quickly to answer it as you took another pull, opening the window above the sink and blowing the smoke out into the cold night air.

“Pronge.” He said as he lifted the receiver to his ear, taking the cigarette back from you as he listened to whoever was on the line. “Yeah? How much?”

He grabbed a pen and paper and started writing information down as you watched him, finishing off the butt and tossing it outside as you hopped up on the counter.

“She’s not at her place?” He said as he grinned at you. “Something tells me she’ll get the information.” He hung up the receiver and set down his notepad. “We’ve got a job.”

——————————————————————————

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[dreamescapeswriting]

Lockdown Jealous ~ KNJ [Request]

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

PAIRING: Jealous!Namjoon x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Fluffy, angst, jealously, fluffy ending.

A/N:  I hope this is okay! I’m not great at the whole slow burn thing so I hope you enjoy this

Throughout the whole of the pandemic, you had been in Korea with your long-term boyfriend Namjoon visiting him while you had some time off work. The pandemic had gotten bad when you'd gone to stay with him for a while and you ended up spending lockdown with him and the boys at the dorms. You and Namjoon had been together for three years but moving in together wasn't an option since visas were a little hard to come by and you still had a life, family and job back home. Visiting one another seemed like the best idea, for now, you would get to have a nice relationship together while maintaining your life back home. Once the lockdown rules hit you couldn't leave Korea and fly back home so the boys ended up taking you in with them and treated you like their younger sister. As Jimin put it, "it was a trial period for living with Namjoon," but it had been one of the best trials you'd ever had. After months of living with them and spending most of your time with them all, you'd grown close with each of the boys but you'd gotten especially close with Yoongi. It wasn't anything more than a friendship but it felt as though you'd gained a best friend while living there. You could go to him with anything and everything and whenever Namjoon was busy Yoongi would be the one to offer to spend time with you. 

"I have a meeting baby, do you want to wait here?" Namjoon's voice interrupted your thought process and you glanced up at him. He'd invited you to the company building for the day so you could get out of the dorms for a little while. Being copped up in one place wasn't doing you any good and he wanted to make sure you could have some fun while being safe. 

"Yeah, I'll wait here it's all good...Do you mind if I-" You nodded over to the blue guitar that was sitting in the corner of his studio and he shook his head at you, going over to it and picking it up. It was something he was supposed to be learning but hadn't ended up doing, instead, he took up painting classes during his days off.

"Go for it. I'll be back as soon as I can," He promised you, bringing over the guitar before leaving a small kiss on the top of your head. You were used to him running off for different meetings all of the time so it was nothing new to you you knew exactly how busy your boyfriend was so it didn't bother you. 

Sitting further forward on the small sofa you placed the guitar onto your lap and began to tune it. You'd taken lessons since you were old enough to hold a guitar and it had been a while but the timing seemed perfect to try and practice again. Lockdown had brought out a bunch of new hobbies for you and the guys, painting, dancing, gaming and even doing Jigsaw's with Hoseok every Sunday night while watching some random drama he would find on the TV.

As Yoongi was walking through the halls towards his studio he heard a tune coming from Namjoon's studio, he frowned at the thought of Namjoon playing guitar but headed into the room. He knew Namjoon was supposed to be taken lessons but he hadn't thought he was taking it seriously, he moved closer to the door and smiled. It was open just a little so he peeked through to see you sitting there, eyes closed as you casually played a tune that Yoongi had never heard before in his life but it sounded good. After watching you for a couple of seconds he pushed the door open and smiled at you placing the coffee he had in his hand down onto the table. 

"Where did you learn to play?" Your eyes shot open as you realised you weren't alone in the room and you jumped a little to see Yoongi standing there. A smile plastered across his face as he waited for you to answer his question, you smiled back at him as you slowly placed the guitar down against the sofa.

"I learnt in school, I feel like I haven't played for years." You admitted as he sat down next to you on the sofa, 

"It's good...You should teach me. Seriously, all I know how to play is Mary had a little lamb." He groaned at the thought of it. Much like Namjoon guitar was something that Yoongi wanted to learn through the pandemic. He thought some acoustic guitars in the back of some of their songs would be special, not to mention it would be good on stage if he could play for ARMY. 

"Sure," You laughed softly as you looked at him, he was giving you the puppy dog eyes as he tried to convince you even more to teach him.

"It's pretty easy once you know the basics I guess. Do you have a guitar?" You questioned looking over at him again, he nodded his head. He'd gotten a guitar years ago with the intentions of learning but never actually learnt.  

"My studio. I've been using an app but I don't think it's even in tune." You laughed softly and nodded your head getting up from the sofa to go and join him in his studio instead. 

"I will buy you food in return, I promise." He admitted as you both headed down the hallway in the direction of his studio, passing Jungkook and Jimin on the way as they heard the mention of food. 

"Dinner on Hyung? I'm down," Jungkook admitted as he attempted to follow you and Yoongi but Yoongi scoffed, 

"I'm buying for Y/n, she's teaching me guitar since somebody else wouldn't," Yoongi remarked at Jungkook who could play the guitar perfectly. The golden Maknae seemed to excel at everything people were putting their minds into during lockdown.

When Namjoon finally came back to his studio hours later he was surprised to see you missing, normally he would come back to find you curled up and asleep or reading a book but you were nowhere to be seen.

"Hey Tae, have you seen Y/n?" He questioned as he walked back out of his studio to see Taehyung heading home for the day, he nodded and pointed over towards Yoongi's studio where the two of you had been for the last four hours. 

"She's teaching Yoongi how to play the guitar," Frowning to himself Namjoon went off on the hunt for you and found you and Yoongi sitting quite close together as you taught him some basic chords.

"Babe?" You looked up when you heard Namjoon's voice and smiled at him noticing the clock behind him. You hadn't realised just how long you and Yoongi had been sitting together until now, 

"Sorry...We just lost track, Yoongi wanted to learn so he asked me for help." Namjoon smiled at you as you got up from the sofa and walked over to hug him, snuggling your head into his chest as you hummed. 

"Don't be sorry, I just wondered where you'd gotten to." He admitted as Yoongi began packing up his guitar and looked at you both,

"I stole her away for a while...I think I'll do it whenever I can, I'm learning so much more than that App could ever teach me." He admitted as he stretched, it was true. You took one look at the app before deleting it from his phone entirely. The thing was awful, couldn't teach anyone to do anything except maybe how to get frustrated at something that wasn't real.

"That's fine, she could do with something to do while I'm working." Namjoon chuckled, kissing your temple as you both go ready to head back to the dorms for the night. Another lockdown movie night with them all but this time it was Jin's turn to choose the movie and snacks. 

After a month of teaching Yoongi guitar Namjoon was starting to grow a little jealous of how much time you were spending with one another. At first, it hadn't bothered him since he was busy with writing songs or doing other hobbies he had during lockdown but once all of that frazzled out he realised you were spending more and more time with Yoongi than you were with him. Normally Namjoon was level headed and he wouldn't get jealous over something so small like this but it was starting to bug him. Especially when he would invite you to lunch with him but you'd cancel because you had something with Yoongi. He thought he was supposed to be the one you spent all your time with. 

"I'm going to get some water, do you need anything?" You asked Yoongi and Namjoon as you got up from the floor and glanced at then. The three of you were the only ones in the dorms today since the others were all working at the studios in groups. Namjoon thought it would be the two of you at home but he was wrong, 

"No, I'm okay," Namjoon answered as he stared at Yoongi waiting for them to be alone so he could finally speak to him about what had been bothering Namjoon for so long. The kitchen door shut and Namjoon moved closer to Yoongi, 

"What are you doing?" He questioned looking at Yoongi who cluelessly stared back at the band member having no idea what he was talking about, 

"I'm watching movies-"

"I mean with Y/n, what are you doing with Y/n?" The question only seemed to confuse Yoongi more as he stared at Namjoon with a confused look on his face. His eyebrows screwed together as he tried to figure out what was going on, 

"She's teaching me the guitar, you already know this..." Yoongi said slowly as he waited for Namjoon to respond to him, it was as if Namjoon had completely forgotten the fact that you'd agreed to teach him but Namjoon hadn't forgotten at all. 

"It doesn't take this long, stop taking lessons with her. I don't want you and Y/n spending time alone together anymore." Before Yoongi could even question what Namjoon meant by that you were walking back into the room with a glass of water and some snacks. 

"I got popcorn for the movie," You had a giant smile across your face as you sat down ready to continue the movie marathon but Yoongi got up on his feet, 

"I'm going to go and shower...Then head to the studio, I forgot I said I would help Jungkook with his mixtape," He lied as he looked at Namjoon for approval, 

"I thought we were going to finish-" Namjoon cut you off by shaking his head, 

"Babe if Yoongi said he's busy, we should let him go." You nodded at him and Yoongi left the room leaving you and Namjoon alone for the first time in a while. You snuggled down into Namjoon's arms and smiled as you pushed play on the movie, Namjoon smiled to himself happy that he had you back to himself and he didn't have to share you with anyone else. 

A week later Yoongi had been avoiding you as if you had the virus and you couldn't seem to find out why. He went to great lengths in ignoring your calls and texts and even ignoring you in the dorms. 

"You okay?" Jungkook asked as he walked into the living room on Saturday morning to see you sitting alone while watching a cartoon. 

"Yeah, just bored." You admitted as you spooned some cereal into your mouth while watching the screen, 

"I know since Namjoon made Yoongi give up your lessons you're both so bored." The spoon you were using to eat dropped into the bowl as you stared at the clueless Jungkook who hadn't realised he'd just dropped Namjoon in trouble. 

"I'm sorry? Namjoon did what?" You questioned, leaning forward to place the bowl down onto the table, at the mention of his name Namjoon walked into the room and went to give you a kiss but you moved out of his direction. 

"Kookie, go and tell Namjoon what you just told me." You spoke as you stared directly at Namjoon, getting up from the sofa as you waited for the Maknae to say something but he never did. He just skillfully made his way out of the room and into the direction of his dorm room not wanting to be there when the fight happened.

"Jungkook told me you told Yoongi to give up our lessons...Is it true?" Namjoon began to stutter over his words as you stared at him waiting for some kind of answer. Folding your arms over your chest you stood your ground only making Namjoon more nervous, 

"Yes! It's true but-"

"But what? I was having fun with Yoongi." You mumbled as you thought back on the lessons you'd been giving to him. It was the most fun you'd had since the lockdown rules had come down. 

"That's the point! He's not your boyfriend, I am!" Namjoon yelled out shocking you a little. Namjoon would hardly ever raise his voice in front of you so it was shocking to hear him do it, the two of you hardly fought and hadn't since the start of lockdown. 

"Namjoon...You can't seriously be jealous because I was spending time with someone else?" You questioned as you looked at him, eyebrows raised as he nodded his head. 

"How else was I supposed to feel? You're always around him, always whispering and joking together about things." The idea of you cheating on Namjoon crawled back into his mind and he grew angrier even if it wasn't true. His jealously was never going to let it be anything less than it. 

"Namjoon I was hanging out with a friend, you said you loved that me and d the guys got on." He shook his head at you,

"Well, now I don't....I hate it. I saw the way you would look at each other while you hung out." He mumbled as he folded his arms over his chest, you fought back the urge to laugh at the fact that he thought you and Yoongi looked at each other differently than you looked at anyone else. 

"Yoongi looks at me like I'm his annoying little sister, Namjoon there's nothing between me and Yoongi just like there's nothing between me and Hoseok...You don't stop us hanging out together..." Namjoon shook his head at you as he thought about it,

"How do I know you're not sleeping with them all?!" The yell came out louder than the first one and you heard someone's bedroom door open slowly as they came to see what all of the noise was about. It wasn't even 9 am yet and Namjoon was yelling at you for something you hadn't, and would never, do. 

"Do you really think I would do that to you?" You questioned calmly, you knew that it was the lockdown getting to everyone. Being trapped with the same people day in and day out was probably getting to Namjoon just as much as it was getting to everyone else so you weren't going to hold it against him.

"N-No, but I saw how he looked at you..." You stared at him with a blank expression across your face. 

"He looked at me like he looks at everyone Namjoon..." There was no talking sense into him though, Namjoon was already past the point of making sense and his brain didn't seem to care what his mouth was saying as he spoke to you. 

"I've seen the way he smiles whenever you hug each other, friends don't smile like that." He mumbled as he began to list off everything he could think of. Everything that had been playing on his mind whenever he saw the two of you alone together. 

"He always wants to hang out with you, everyone can see it...Everyone can see the way he stares!" You continued to let him yell since you knew he clearly needed to get it out of his system. Behind him, Yoongi slowly came out of his room to see what the yelling was about and he froze as he heard Namjoon. 

"I just needed him to stop being so close to you...Now you're mine again, you never see it when they hit on you but I do, they all hit on you," You knew in the past the boys would jokingly flirt with you to wind Namjoon up but there was never anything else behind it. The acts were all innocent jokes which you all went along with not knowing how much it clearly bothered Namjoon. 

"They know I'm yours and you know it was all a joke Joonie." Your voice came out calm as you reached out to touch Namjoon's hand and calm him down but he shook his head, stepping away from you. 

"I see him staring at you, holding your hands while you're playing the guitar..." Thinking back on all the times you taught Yoongi how to play you nodded your head, 

"I had to show him his hand placements Joon...There is nothing between me and Yoongi stop being so jealous." You finally broke, having enough of him acting as though he was a possessive teenage boyfriend when you were all adults. You had the freedom to hang around with whoever you wanted and no one could stop you. 

"I'm not being jealous I just don't want someone else's eyes on you," He yelled out and you scoffed having enough of his childish behaviour.

"You better start blinding people then! Are you actually stupid Namjoon? People are going to look at me...What are you going to do? Stop everyone in the world from talking to me!?" You snapped out not realising how angry you were getting until the words left your lips, 

"If that's what it takes!" He yelled back but you just scoffed, leaving the living room as he called after you but you ignored him. Locking yourself into the bedroom so you wouldn't have to listen to how insane he was acting right now. 

"What?!" You heard him yell out at one of the boys who asked him what that was all about. Pulling the pillow over your head you ignored them all, wanting it all to go away.

Yoongi tapped on the door a couple of hours later telling you there was food there for you so you opened the door. Thanking him before disappearing back inside to eat but nothing felt good, you didn't want to eat or do anything without speaking with Namjoon but you also didn't want to be the first one to talk. 

"Can I come in?" You heard his voice ask from the bedroom door, you rolled over to see him waving a white tissue around as a sign of surrender from him and you laughed softly and sat up,

"You can come in..." You looked at him as he walked into the room carrying your favourite cupcakes and your favourite drink. 

"I'm sorry I was a jerk..." He admitted as he sat down on the bed in front of you, you took the cake and hummed in reponse. 

"You were a total and utter jerk." He laughed softly and nodded, he wasn't going to disagree with you when he knew it was the truth. There was no real reason that he had to be that kind of jealous and possessive boyfriend and he saw it now. 

"I'm sorry I was jealous...I just...Watching the two of you and then-"

"Being trapped in lockdown all the time...It just got to you?" You questioned as you took the icing from the cupcake on your finger and placed it into your mouth.

"Yes...I didn't actually think you would cheat on me with him and I don't actually think he likes you like that..." You smiled weakly at Namjoon who seemed genuinely upset with himself and you knew you could never stay mad at him forever.

"I know he doesn't Joonie...We were just close friends and I hope we still can be but I'll stop hanging-" You were going to say stop hanging out with him but Namjoon began shaking his head at you, 

"You don't need to stop hanging with him just because I got jealous...You should keep giving him lessons," You smiled at him and kisses his lips softly, 

"I promise to make time for you both..." You whispered as you kissed his lips again, trying to reassure him that everything was okay between you both now. 

"Good...Because...The dorms are empty now..." He whispered to you as he looked into your eyes but you played the oblivious card as you ate your cupcake, 

"Movie night?" You suggested not wanting to let him get off the hook that easily just yet.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @fan-ati--c @bisexualmess007​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @jin-from-the-block​

[little-diable]

Please respect that this is my own work and I worked really hard on those imagines, don’t copy or edit stuff. However reblog, comment and like as much as you like. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Be aware that all my Tom Riddle imagines are very dark 

Mortem Expetere a series (completed) 

Hail Mary (Priest!smut)

The reader had been sent to a monastery because her parents no longer endured having her around. But perhaps Priest Riddle will know how to handle her.

Who prays for Satan? (Priest!smut)

Priest Riddle is the reader's theology professor, a man she has always found herself interested in, but things escalate when she joins his church for her internship.

"Angel" He calls me (priest smut)

Her mother accuses the reader of preparing a satanic ritual, so she hopes that Priest Riddle can free the young girl from the devil's grasp. What a shame that the young priest is even more cunning than the Devil himself.

Carnal Sin (priest smut)

The reader's mother had begged Priest Riddle to let the reader join his bible study, a bratty woman who wanted to make his life a living hell. Now it was time to finally teach her a lesson.

I own you (priest smut)

(Y/n) is a female priest working for Tom's local church. He visits her every Friday afternoon, confessing to his darkest secrets, but today he shares something else, something that forces her to follow his every command. Pwp basically

The Devil is Among us (priest/devil!smut)

The reader is in a desperate need, asking the Devil himself to help her with the daily struggles she keeps on facing. But what will she do when suddenly her local priest turns up?

Little Lamb (priest!smut)

The reader helps Priest Riddle with his summer camp, guiding young children through prayers, through talks about God, and religion. She had been tied to him for years, he held her heart and soul hostage, taking her whenever he desires her.

Committed Sins (priest!smut)

Priest Riddle and sister (y/n) keep on playing the same game over and over again, pwp

Holy Realm (priest!smut)

(Y/n) has found her way back home, spending her summer vaction with her overly religious mother, who introduces her to a man that is set on blemishing her once pure soul.

The Rosary (priest!dark smut)

Priest Riddle takes the reader's confession, and yet he does it quite differently than all other priests. Pwp.

Sacrifices (priest!dark smut)

Father Riddle asks his community to think of sacrifices, ways to please God. But what if she doesn't have anything to offer, but her purity?

When the clock strikes twelve the blade pierces her heart (smut)

Tom Riddle, a schizophrenic serial killer with a cluster a schizotypal personality disorder, meets his new asylum psychiatrist, the reader. But she has a few dark secrets herself, secrets the man - who is convinced of his magical abilities - knows before she has even met him.

Kill Me (smut)

The reader wants to kill her boyfriend with poison, but killing the venomous snake doesn't work out as she had hoped it would.

[thebrochtuarachs]

All That Was Good - Chapter 3

A/N: This story has just been a delight to write. Thank you to everyone who loves and comments about this story. It absolutely warms the heart. <3 As always, comments and suggestions are always welcome. :) Stay safe!

This story is also on AO3

xxxxxx

Faith.

It was as natural as breathing when Claire knelt and caught her daughter in a tight hug. 

“Ma!” Faith chimed and it swelled Claire’s heart. She couldn’t stop the tears that feel even if she tried. Seeing her photo in the wallet and now, in the flesh in the span of 5 seconds was more than enough to break Claire down. 

But it was definitely more for Jamie, who by now, has completely lost it. He was openly crying in awe and disbelief for the daughter he’s never seen or met but prayed with all regret that he could’ve. After everything that happened in Paris and even though they have settled it between them, deep inside his mind and heart, Jamie blamed himself for her loss. 

Hearing Jamie sniffle and wipe his nose and face, Faith turned to him and quickly reached out her arms, requesting him to carry her. Without hesitation, he picked her up and held her close to his heart. 

Pushing herself up from his shoulder, Faith turned to Jamie with a question. “Da, sad?” 

“No, no, not sad. Da is verra verra happy right now.” he quickly assured his daughter with the biggest smile on his face. “We’ve just missed you so much” 

Faith mirrored his smile as Jamie continued to take her in. “She has your eyes.” he remarked to Claire. 

“And your everything else!” Claire jokingly scoffed back at him. She then, squinted and too, shook her head in wonder. “Jamie, I - “

“I know. I can’t believe it either.” Jamie finished the sentence. He opened his free side to her and she quickly slided in, wrapping Jamie and their daughter together in her arms as close as she could. 

The next five minutes have been the most blissful time yet.

-

If the Beauchamps or the Frasers noticed Claire and Jamie’s puffy eyes and tear-streaked faces when they came to the dining hall, they (thankfully) didn’t mention it. 

To Claire and Jamie, everything was new - but to the foursome in front of them and the baby between them, it was practically routine and regular. 

Brian, Ellen, Henry, and Julia were talking about the latest in business and social events they were planning to attend. Claire and Jamie tried to keep an ear out to get some clues on what their families may be doing at this time but it was proving to be hard when there’s a two-year old, red-headed Fraser calling your attention every minute whether it was giving her food, her giving them food, wiping her clean, and listening to her stories in the past week she was with grandparents. Between the two, Jamie and Claire focused on Faith, savoring everything about her. Everything else can wait. 

They were taken out of their focus when Ellen asked Claire a question. “So, Claire, darling, what was the news ye had to tell us?” 

Claire swallowed the food she was chewing and looked at Jamie, a silent conversation ensuing between them. Jamie looked at her belly and maybe got her answer. It was the only thing of significance they could think of at the moment. 

“Oh, our news” She put her utensils down and everyone followed suit waiting to hear what’s next. “Well, Jamie and I are very happy to share that little Miss Faith here…” she tickled Faith’s belly resulting in a short giggle. “...is going to be a big sister.” 

They waited with baited breath for any reaction and hope that it was information they haven't told before. A few seconds later, all four grandparents erupted in celebration with the news, standing and looping Jamie and Claire into taps and hugs. 

“How far along are you?” Julia asked. 

“About two to three months. We just found ourselves.” Claire replied. 

“Have ye told anyone else?” It was Ellen’s turn to ask. 

“No, you guys are the first to know” 

“Can we tell the rest of the family, then, give them a quick call?” Brian chimed. Jamie and Claire nodded even thought they weren’t sure the extent of it. However, Brian offered the list immediately after. “We’ll call Willie, Jenny and Rabbie. And of course, we’ll reach out to your Uncle Lamb.” 

Jamie quickly clutched Claire’s hand and she did the same. Their entire family and more. 

It wouldn’t be far fetched that Claire and Jamie might think that they may have died and gone to heaven because this was everything. But until that reality falls down upon them, they will take this experience and make the most of it. 

“We should plan to get everybody here together and celebrate, maybe in another month’s time?”

“I agree, plan for a proper celebration. Plus, I think Lamb would also like to be out of the house once in a while.”

“It’s a date then!” 

The parents made all the arrangements and Claire and Jamie were just left to happily agree. 

-

The four grandparents continued their catch up to the library and Claire and Jamie decided to explore the estate. They brought Faith with them, not wanting to part with her just yet, even though the little girl was napping on Jamie’s shoulder. 

“Uncle Lamb must be in his 80s now but from what I gathered from my mom, he’s still strong but prefers to stay at home these days.” Claire shared, pulling out a cloth and wiping a drool from Faith.

They’ve checked the family photos and deducted what they could. In this time, William Fraser was married to Mary McNab, Jenny and Ian are together and already have wee Jamie and Maggie, and Rabbie is still in uni finishing his studies. 

Further reviewing the contents on both their wallets, what they’ve found so far are: Lallybroch is a whiskey distillery, Jamie and Claire are based in Glasgow, where Claire’s a nurse, and Jamie heads the Glasgow branch of the business - thankfully, jobs that are not necessarily out of their range. 

As for how they met, their past, and other information to their present, nothing much on that end yet. Maybe once they head to their own home, they’ll find more answers. But for now, they believe they have enough information to process but more importantly, let go a bit to focus more on Faith. 

The day passed rather quickly, with Jamie and Claire coming back to the house to cool off. They made their way to the living room, laying Faith down in one of the solo sofa chairs while they settled on the other. 

Jamie pulled Claire beside him and kissed her temple in reverence. She, in turn, cuddled closer to him, crossing her legs on top of his. Soon, sleep took over both of them once again, a much deserved nap as they adjust to today’s time. 

-

Jamie and Claire were woken up when they felt something trying to grab or climb at them.

“Oh, hi, darling. Did you have a good nap?” Claire asked Faith, she herself sitting straight and waking. 

“Yes. Are we going home now?” Faith asked as she bear hugged her mother. 

“Not yet. We’ll stay one more night and go tomorrow.” 

It was nearly dinnertime and one of their parents might’ve opened the lamp to give the space some light. Claire turned to Jamie and found him tenderly looking at the both of them. 

“I dinna have the words, Claire.” Jamie sighed and began. “I ken meeting our parents is one thing but meeting her, seeing her, feeling her, talking to her…” he reached to brush Faith’s hair. “Seeing what it is of her or me that is in her, watching ye become a mother…” Jamie shook his head. “I could talk about it all day, Sassenach. But after ye, this has been the best blessing in my life. And I promise ye, I wilna take it for granted.” 

“We won’t take it for granted, Jamie.” Claire reiterated their commitment. She, then, turned to their daughter to ask “Do you want to cuddle with Da next?” 

Sure enough, the little lass pulled out of Claire’s embrace and proceeded to go to Jamie’s. He put his nose in her head and breathed her in. “Mo nighean ruadh, tha gaol agam ort”. He grabbed Claire’s hand and placed a kiss on her knuckle. “Mo nighean donn, tha gaol agam ort” 

“I love you, too, Jamie.” she replied, squeezing his hand in agreement.

“Love too, Da” Faith said so simply and Claire and Jamie could just not stop the tears from flowing. 

Unbeknownst to them, outside the door, Ellen accidentally overheard their unusual conversation when she was coming to get them for supper. Throughout the day, she’d observed some things are rather different but nothing to be alarmed of. However, the chat did leave her a bit confused.

Letting the thoughts pass her mind, she knocked on the door loudly and got the family for dinner.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 19, part two

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

The Man Comes Around

Over at the Wen Indoctrination Tower, which seems to exist just to torture Lan Wangji with stair climbing, Lan Wangji is climbing the stairs. Too bad his cultivation level is too low to be able to just jump up. At least this time his leg isn't broken.

This is the first vengeful stair-climb in the show, but not the last. (Parallel gifset here).

The Wen guards are stationed all the way at the pinnacle of this tower to guard...what? Why are they not at the bottom of the stairs? What is this location for, actually? This is further up the stairs than the scenes with the indoctrination lectures. Anyway, it's been three months since Wen Chao threw Wei Wuxian into the burial mounds, so naturally these guards are talking about that exact thing as Lan Wangji approaches.

Lan Wangji knocks them all down with a blast from his guqin. Did you know his guqin is named Wangji, by the way? It is. A guy who is that lazy about naming his quqin maybe shouldn't feel so superior to a guy who named his sword "whatever." 

(I'm suddenly remembering a plush lamb I had as a child, whose eyes were orange, that I named "orange eyes.") (I, however, was three. And I had a lot of plush lambs. Little ones. Grown-ups found it hilarious to give them to me.) (Native speakers of English can probably guess what OP's real name is. Hint: it rhymes with Canary.) (Everybody else: there is a kid's rhyming song called Mary Had A Little Lamb. OP's name is Mary.)

Anyhoo, after Lan Wangji is finally finished with his dramatic entrance, Jiang Cheng comes flying in from wherever he's been hovering for the past 20 minutes of stair time. A bunch of Lan sidekicks also flood into the frame from wherever they were hiding during the wide shots of LWJ on the staircase.

In case you hope that CQL Lan Wangji is as much of a top (offscreen) as MZDS Lan Wangji is (on the page), here's a gif for you.

(more after the cut)

He uses the patented Lan string attack to choke this guard.  Lan Wangji doesn't have to hold a guqin string in his hands to choke someone with it. He doesn't even have to tighten it, judging by how absurdly not-tight this string is.

Or maybe this guy is choking on the chin strap of his helmet. This is exactly how OP's son reacts when OP sticks a bike helmet on him. (Note: it's GOOD that they are following choking safety protocols on set. Very good. However, they could have just left the string out and pretended, and it would look better, in this instance)

The Wen guard tells Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng about the whole "thrown into the burial mounds" thing.  Team Let's Find Wei Wuxian is not happy to hear this.

A Vengeful Ghost

Meanwhile, in some Wen office somewhere? Where the hell is this? Yiling, we get an ominous shot of the rooftops where Wei Wuxian is lurking and then we see Wang Lingjiao trying to sleep and having a nightmare.

Wang Lingjiao has gone to sleep with a full face of makeup on instead of washing her face before bed. She has forgotten the important maxim, Go To Sleep Pretty, Wake Up Zitty.

She leaps out of bed to go cling to Wen Chao and freak out about Wei Wuxian's ghost. Wen Chao is trying to read the sports section and has clearly had enough of this crap. This has presumably been going on for a little while now.

Wang Lingjiao is in a new outfit, which is...pajamas? It has the feel of a 1930's French peignoir set, and it's much more softly colored than her usual bright red-purple combo. If this is her pajamas is it weird that her day clothes are a lot more aggressively sexy-looking than her nightgown? A freak in the streets but a lady in the sheets.

Wen Chao rants about the Sunshot Campaign and talks some smack about Wen Qing, and then leaves to go to the bar and watch the game with Wen Zhuliu. After he leaves Wang Lingjiao freaks out for a bit and then looks at the notice he was reading.

The notice basically says that the Sunshot Campaign is kicking their ass. She should be proud for inspiring the name of the campaign with that kite-shooting bullshit she made up at Lotus Pier. Before slaughtering everyone.

No Matter What You Do, I Only Want To Be With You

Back at the Indoctrination Tower, Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng are having feelings about Wei Wuxian. Jiang Chang does all the talking but Lan Wangji's thoughts are louder because a sad violin is playing Wangxian while they talk.

Jiang Cheng tells Lan Wangji about their meetup plan and says he thought WWX had dumped him to go find Lan Wangji in Lanling. Lan Wangji telepathically indicates that this didn’t happen. This means two things: 1. Lan Wangji has been hanging out in Lanling, where Jiang Yanli has been hanging out, so maybe they have bonded over the past 3 months and 2. This is the first time Jiang Cheng has talked to Lan Wangji since Wei Wuxian disappeared. 

Much as my fic-loving heart would like to believe these two spent three months on the road together looking for Wei Wuxian, in fact they are both important high-level fighters in an active military campaign, and Lan Wangji was busy taking back the Cloud Recesses while Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were having elective surgery. They probably both were assigned to the "Indoctrination Bureau" mission and this is the first chance they've had to talk about Wei Wuxian.

Is it heartbreaking that, while Wei Wuxian was helplessly getting his ass beat because he'd sacrificed his golden core for Jiang Cheng, Jiang Cheng believed Wei Wuxian had abandoned him for Lan Wangji? Yes. Yes it is.

For some reason Jiang Cheng is hesitant to believe that Wei Wuxian really was thrown into the Burial Mounds. I mean, I understand not wanting to believe Wei Wuxian is dead, but given that Wen Chao is the dude who oversaw the massacre of all of the people at Lotus Pier, including kids, why would Jiang Cheng think his guards are wrong? Maybe he just feels like Wei Wuxian is invincible, since so far he kinda has been. 

The Sword is Mightier Than Not Having a Sword

While they've been chatting, the Lan disciples have found their swords. One disciple is holding Bichen (LWJ's sword), Sandu (JC's sword), and OP consults wiki Suihua (Jin Zixuan's sword). Another disciple is holding Subian (WWX's sword).  

Jiang Cheng grabs Sandu while the Lan disciples, who apparently know their gongzi’s heart, offer Wei Wuxian's sword to Lan Wangji. 

Lan Wangji takes Subian (Bichen: What am I, chopped watercress?) and immediately tries to draw it. Like you don't do. It's sealed itself, which apparently means that it's upset. It's unclear if it's upset because Wei Wuxian is dead or if it just misses him, however.  

Lan Wangji definitely misses him, and wonders, out loud inside his own head, where Wei Wuxian is. Um, he's in the Burial Mounds, dude, they just told you. Well, I guess he's actually in Yiling proper at this point, haunting Wang Lingjiao as he promised her he would.

Twa Corbies

The scene shifts to Qinghe, where there are about 12 dead bodies lying around, which in this show means that there are really a few hundred. In fact, per Jiang Yanli's statement "nothing can be seen but corpses covering the plains." The camera can't see most of them, is all.

Wen Xu's head is hanging in the doorway, and the Jins talk about how Nie Mingjue killed him, cutting his head off with just one swing. Is this foreshadowing anything, like perhaps someone else's head being cut off by Baxia in just one swing? Nope, definitely not.

A couple of crows are perched on a body, totally not eating it, but Jin Zixuan gallantly zaps them with a talisman to make them fly away anyway.  It might be noteworthy that nobody used to use talismans but gradually more and more people are using them - particularly people who have spent time with Wei Wuxian.

With mony a lock of his golden hair-o, we’ll theek our nest when it grows bare-o

Asshole cousin Jin Zixun says “scavenger rights,” so Jin Zixuan puts him in charge of collecting all the bodies. 

Since OP just finished watching fur-collar-happy Nirvana in Fire, these crows look to me like they are wearing luxurious fur collars. Where OP lives, crows are not this fancy. 

A Romantic Corpse-Filled Interlude

Disaster het Jin Zixuan goes to help Jiang Yanli get out of the carriage but she rejects his hand just like he rejected hers back in Gusu.

Jiang Yanli is extremely shocked when she sees Wen Xu's severed head, and turns away in horror, preferring to calmly rest her eyes on dozens of crow-pecked corpses.

Jin Zixuan tries to comfort her and she tells him she'll be going now, thanks for the hospitality. He tries to say that he has to personally deliver her to a representative of the patriarchy one of her brothers, but then one of her brothers shows up.

Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng arrive, having presumably flown there from Qishan. They show that they are flying by blowing a fan on the ground and then jumping off of a box, which is better than the effects we were subjected to earlier in the episode.

Jiang Cheng rushes over to have an emotional reunion with Jiang Yanli, while Lan Wangji rushes over to have an emotional reunion with Wen Xu’s severed head. Jin Zixuan kind of spoils it for him by talking about Wei Wuxian's absence while Lan Wangji is trying to have a moment.

The whole time Jin Zixuan is talking to him, Lan Wangji appears to be gazing into the middle distance but in fact he is staring at Wen Xu's severed head. This is the guy who led the burning of Cloud Recesses, killed a bunch of disciples, and personally broke Lan Wangji's leg. Lan Wangji stares at his head for more than a full minute before glancing away.

Jiang Yanli hasn't seen Jiang Cheng since they were in Wen Qing's clinic, and she is happy he's recovered. When she asks about Wei Wuxian he gives her the bad news in the classic Jiang fashion, which is to say nothing, but look stricken until your interlocutor figures out that something is horribly wrong, but not precisely what.

Four Angry Men

Inside the fortress, Nie Mingjue is slapping the table and saying, this bad boy can hold so much resentment and vengeance. They're having a mini war council and we're getting a better sense of Nie Mingjue's anger management problem. Note for those who don't get the gif reference: this is a The Godfather joke, not a sex joke, but it can be both, if you like.

We're also getting a little more info about Baxia, who seems to be eager to go fight even without anyone wielding it. (Her? Him? Them? do swords have gender? I don't know). Well done, person below the camera frame whose job is to rattle Baxia in a menacing manner.

They've got a giant model of the battle targets, which looks like it was carved out of real rock (I mean, as much as any of the rocks on this show look like real rocks) and has its own table and everything, decorated in Nie colors. Where was this before they took Qinghe back? Has Nie Mingjue been traveling with it? 

Anyway, I'm assuming Nie Huaisang made it, because it's pretty nice. Hopefully they will keep it around for tabletop gaming after the war is over.

Jiang Cheng is upset but is using his anger management mantra to help control his temper while Jin Zixuan and Lan Wangji talk with Nie Mingjue. 

Lan Wangji talks by leaning forward meaningfully, mostly not by using any words, but he asks for a battle assignment and Jiang Cheng immediately joins in. They both want to go find Wei Wuxian. 

Nie Mingjue says Yiling is too difficult of a target, but Lan Wangji puts on his determined face, which is apparently very persuasive.  

After Team Find Wei Wuxian leaves, Nie Mingjue asks Jin Zixuan to hang back so he can ask him how Meng Yao is doing. This is the first time he finds out that his ex didn't go to Lanling. Jin Zixuan tries to delicately remind him that Dad's got, like, SO many bastard children, they really don't have space for all of them. Nie Mingjue dismisses him immediately and abruptly. 

Nie Mingjue might invite the straights to his party but he isn't interested in actually socializing with them.

Unconditional Soup is Only for A-Xian

Jiang Cheng can't sleep, and takes some time, now, to be sad about Wei Wuxian. Presumably he spent the prior 3 months being mad, not sad, because he really thought he just buggered off without saying anything for all that time. Which is sort of fair, but sort of not. One thing about these two bros is that for as close as they have been and as much as they love each other, their mutual understanding has some big, messy gaps.

Fortunately while he is feeling sad, Jiang Cheng does not try to draw Subian from its sheath, because wouldn't THAT be awkward.

Jiang Yanli can't sleep either, and comes to sit with him. Jiang Cheng feels bad that she's wearing herself out with worry and she says "As your sister, I have nothing to do but to worry about you." Jiang Yanli isn't one to complain but she doesn't like being inactive or helpless. In Lanling she was far from the war, but now that she's in Qinghe she'll make herself useful by tending the wounded, and later she'll help Jiang Cheng shoulder his responsibilities as he takes over the Jiang clan.

At the moment, however, all she can do is fret and make soup. As she gives Jiang Cheng a bowlful she reminds him that he absolutely has to rescue their brother who has, according to his captors, been reduced to bone dust.

With all the impossible shit that Jiang Cheng is expected to achieve - and in many instances, does achieve - he is absolutely the embodiment of the Jiang Clan's motto. Fuck his father for disrespecting him because he hadn't figured out how to do everything by the age of 16.

Definitely Not Chilling in Yiling

Back in Yiling, Wen Chao is hearing the news that the Qishan Indoctrination Bureau has fallen and that he's being called back to Nightless City. Wen Chao says he shouldn't need to go back because his dad has a new right-hand man. That new right-hand man, we will eventually learn, is Meng Yao. Wang Lingjiao, meanwhile, is hiding under the bed covers and deciding it's time to dump Wen Chao.

She locks the door and goes to pull out her jewelry box, which is locked and hidden under the bed. Maybe this is Wen Chao's jewelry box, because she acts kind of squirrely about opening it. Upon opening the jewelry box, she doesn't find jewelry but a pair of bloody fake eyeballs staring at her.  She screams and freaks out and then the wind picks up and we hear the sound of a flute, playing the "I'm here to fuck your shit up" tune that Wei Wuxian likes.

Wang Lingjiao runs to the door and pulls down the protection talisman that's pasted above it, and pastes it directly to her chest instead, which is, we will learn in the next episode, the worst idea she could possibly have at this point.

Then she uses a poking stick to go flip the jewelry box open and finds it's full of ugly-ass jewelry again, plus an improbable number of weird round paper-mache biscuits that have been painted gold. None of this jewelry looks anything like the exquisite accessories people wear in this show, which means this stash was put together by the practical effects department, not by the costume department.

Anyway, Wang Lingjiao apparently thinks she can sell this fakeass stuff for a good price, so more power to her. But then we get a short glimpse of the menacing eyeballs again, this time on the floor, having moved out of the box and brought their little blood pool with them. Screeching ensues.

Next episode: Lady in Red!

Soundtrack: Twa Corbies, by Steeleye Span

[hopelikethemoon]

Together (Ezra x Reader) || {Moonbeams}

Title: Together Rating: PG-13 Length: 3,700 Warnings: Pregnant!Reader, angst, unresolved sexual tension. Notes: :) :)  Part twenty of the Moonbeams series.

You sat crosslegged on the bed, watching as Ezra paced and sucked on a honeystick. “Just keep things brief. They won’t be that suspicious.”

“And why do I not like this Quinn fellow?” He questioned, cocking his head the side as he looked at you. 

“Because I slept with him.” You admitted. “It’s complicated.”

“Do tell.”

You rubbed at the crease between your brows, “He was always my fallback, in the past. So there’s a history there. I’m not proud about it, but I needed to get off Ay-7 to get back to you and that unfortunately meant sleeping with him.” You shrugged. “Neither you nor the beast were thrilled with that.”

Ezra nodded slowly, “So I should be chilly with him?”

“Cordial.” You offered, brushing your fingers over your stomach. “He likes trying to wind you up. Just follow my lead.”

“And Shiva? What about them?” 

“Mutual acceptance? They don’t particularly like you, but they’re warming up to you. I wouldn’t say you dislike them. But there’s distrust all around.” 

You scooted to the edge of the bed, resting your feet on the ground. “I’ll try to do most of the talking. I need them to go to Arcadia and pick up my ship — but I’m going to avoid the particulars.”

“So we’re not telling them about the memory loss?”

“Ezra!”

He smirked at you. “Just checking.” He stepped towards the trash bin to throw the honeystick packaging away. “And how are we?” 

“You’re very… touchy.” You explained. “Hand on my shoulder, the small of my back, holding my hand.” 

Ezra nodded, “I can see that.”

He hadn’t had any trouble with touching you ever since the full moon. It helped that he let you sleep in bed with him — something about not wanting to make a pregnant woman sleep on an uncomfortable sofa. It was nice, but weird too. 

“And what happens if they start to catch on?”

“I don’t know.” You grimaced. “I don’t really want to think about it.” Shiva would twist your arm into staying on the Block until the baby was born. They’d find a reason to think it wasn’t safe with Ezra — he was a stranger all over again. Someone to distrust. 

“Anything else I should know?” He questioned as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. 

“You call me moonbeam,” Your voice wavered. He hadn’t called you anything but your name since you reintroduced yourself to him. “And little lamb.” 

His brows furrowed as he tilted his head to look at you, “Shelley?”

You nodded, “We traded Mary and Percy.” 

“The sunlight claps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea: what are all these kissings worth, if thou kiss not me?” Ezra recited. 

“You remember that?” 

“Hmm?”

“You read those words from my book. You didn’t have Percy’s works.” You told him, angling yourself towards him. “But you remembered the passage.”

He blinked at you, exhaling shakily. “It just came to me.” 

“That’s good.” You reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Maybe there’s still hope yet that you’ll remember.” 

“Perhaps,” He smiled fondly at you, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “You know, I can see why I was infatuated with you.” 

“Oh?” Your gaze dropped to his lips, against better judgement. 

“Yeah.” Ezra breathed out, “You’re beautiful and you fancy the same books that I do.” 

“Funny, that’s why I liked you too.” You whispered, finding yourself leaning towards him. “Is this just muscle memory?”

“Maybe.” He drawled out, his breath dancing over your lips as he hesitated. “I hear something.” 

Ezra’s head whipped around to stare down the hallway a split second before someone knocked at the door. “I already dislike them.” He remarked. 

You laughed, “I told you they’d show up today.” You rose from the bed, walking barefoot down the corridor to the front door. “Who is it?” You called out. 

“Who do you think?” Shiva shot back. 

Ezra followed after you, hovering awkwardly behind you. “I’ll follow your lead.” 

You looked back at him before you pulled the door open to let Shiva and Quinn in. 

“Where the hell is your transport?” Quinn questioned, “We went there first, but the clearing is… clear.” 

“Long story.” You told him as Shiva wrapped their arms around you. “How was your assignment?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” They groused, pulling back to give you a sweeping look. 

“Someone pulled a bad harvest.” Quinn said in a sing-song voice, before following Shiva’s line of sight to your stomach. “Not that I doubted the legitimacy of your pregnancy, but…” He smirked at Ezra then. “Good job.” 

“Look at you!” Shiva grinned at you. “Can I?” 

“Sure.” You shrugged, giving Ezra a look as he moved to shut and lock the door closed behind them. 

“How are you feeling?” Shiva questioned as they ran their hand over the subtle curve of your stomach. “Any morning sickness?”

“I feel great.” You told them, swatting Quinn’s hand away as he made an attempt to touch you. 

“Watch it.” Ezra snapped, stepping in between you and Quinn. 

Quinn huffed, “Oh, but Shiva can touch?” 

Ezra glared at him. 

Shiva rolled their eyes, “Still sensitive about that?” 

“About what?” Ezra questioned, arching a brow. 

“We are not going to talk about me sleeping with Quinn.” You interjected, taking Shiva’s hand off your stomach. “Let’s go sit, I can tell you about what happened.” 

Ezra was hot on your heels as you shooed Shiva and Quinn down the hall to the common area. It almost reminded you of before — but not quiet. It didn’t help that he had taken your comment about being touchy and ran with it. 

He pulled you into his lap on the sofa, under the guise of making room for Shiva. 

“Now you’re just being rude.” Quinn complained as he perched on the crate across from the sofa. 

“Did we interrupt something?” Shiva questioned, giving you a pointed look. 

“No.”

“—Yes.”

You turned to look at Ezra, your heart beating a little faster as he cradled his hand against your stomach. 

“Someone is still a little grouchy from the full moon.” You explained nervously, looking back at Shiva then. “How was your flight in?”

“Uneventful.” They shrugged, “Quinn tried a little too hard to get me out of my own bad mood.”

You made a face, “Too much information.”

“Not like that.” Shiva screwed up their face. 

“Why does everyone act like I’m at the bottom of their list?” Quinn questioned, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know, all three of you are near the top of mine.” 

You pretended to wretch, which made Ezra snort. “Quinn, everyone is at the top of your list to hear you tell it.”

“I’m an equal opportunities romancer.”

“Can I be removed from the list?” Ezra questioned. “Perhaps a few years ago, I might’ve taken you up on that offer.”

“Don’t feed him.” You told Ezra, prodding him in the ribs. “He’ll never stop.”

“No, no. Please go on.” Quinn grinned. “You’ve caught my interest now, Ezra.” He propped his chin up on his knees. “Now I’m seeing that this animosity isn’t just because of our beloved friend.”

Ezra rested his chin on your shoulder, tilting his head so his cheek was pressed flush against your neck and jaw. “You’ve gone and ruined it now.” 

Shiva cleared their throat, “Well, now that that is out of the way.” They fixed you with a look. “Your ship?”

“Long story, really.” You laughed nervously. “I’m going to need you and Quinn to take a quick trip to Arcadia to pick it up for me. My best advice is to go straight to the ship and then leave.” 

Shiva narrowed their eyes, “What happened?” 

“A minor debacle,” Ezra lied smoothly, pressing his lips to the crook of your neck affectionately. “Given the delicate state that moonbeam is in, I’d prefer that she doesn’t venture back to Arcadia.” 

“How did you get back without your ship?” Quinn questioned. 

“It’s a long story.” You admitted, “But it’s behind us, fortunately.” 

“Why are you acting weird?” Shiva questioned, leaning towards you suspiciously. “You’re being squirrely.”

“I’m exhausted.” You explained, which wasn’t an actual lie. 

Quinn clicked his tongue against his teeth, “Did the big bad wolf keep you up?” 

You flipped him off. “Shut up.”

“Well, did he?”

“No.” You gritted out, tilting your head to look at Ezra. “I told you they’d never let me live it down.”

“It’s alright.” 

“What’s with the two of you?” Shiva questioned, narrowing their eyes at you. 

“Like I said before,” Ezra started before you had the opportunity to respond. “You interrupted.”

“Ezra.” You warned him lightly, tilting your head to look at him with a short laugh. “It’s just been a weird couple of days.” You explained to Shiva. “It always is around the full moon.” 

“You’re right,” Quinn snapped his fingers and pointed at Shiva, “They are acting weird.” 

“Maybe you’re acting weird.” You retorted.

“Alright, I’m convinced now. Fess up.” Shiva cleared their throat, “What’s going on here?” 

“Do you always interrogate her?” Ezra questioned, his voice teetering on the edge of annoyance. “She already told you. So drop it.” 

“It’s really nothing.” You assured Shiva and Quinn, looking between the two of them. “I just need my ship back and then…” You didn’t know what came next. Did you leave? Did you come back? 

“You can pick me up more of those honeysticks and get back here.” Ezra drawled out, lazily drawing his fingers over your stomach through your shirt. 

You turned a little to look at him, grinning at him. “And don’t forget the cheese.” 

“How could I?” Ezra took that opportunity to steal the softest brush of a kiss from you. But it was enough to make you chase after his lips as he pulled away. 

There was nothing you wanted more than to kiss him. Your last two kisses with him had been under such duress — you hadn’t savored them at all. 

“Anything we need to know about Arcadia?” Shiva questioned, “And we’ll get out of your hair.”

“Sorry.” You offered sheepishly as you turned back towards your friends. “Just be quick. Don’t linger.”

Quinn coughed, “You’re not sending us to our death are you?” 

“No.” You answered a little too quickly.

Shiva narrowed their eyes, ”We’re talking when I get back.” They warned you. “Ezra, take care of our girl.”

“I always do.” He said with a pleased grin as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his hand still possessively curled around your stomach. 

Shiva stood then, snapping their fingers to get Quinn’s attention. “I think we should give the love birds some space.” 

Quinn made a face, “You know, I’m still thinking about how it works with the beast.” 

“I’m going to kill you.” You threatened, wiggling out of Ezra’s embrace as you got off his lap. “I told you that in a moment of weakness.” 

He held up his hand in mock defeat. “Doesn’t matter why, you let it slip.” He looked towards Shiva then. “You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go see what she’s gotten herself into on Arcadia.” 

“It takes about four hours to get there,” You warned them. “A little over five to get back here.” 

Shiva nodded, “You owe me.”

“I know.” You laughed, following Quinn and Shiva towards the door. Ezra lingered behind the three of you, eyeing you like a predator who had found his prey. You knew that look. “I owe both of you for this one.” 

Quinn smirked, “I’m sure I could come up with a creative way to pay out.” 

“No.” You rolled your eyes. “Come by in the morning, alright?”

“Early afternoon.” Shiva told you. “If I’m gonna be in flight for nine hours, I’m sleeping in.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.” You smiled at them, before giving them a quick hug. “We’ll talk.” You promised as you pulled back.

“We better.” Shiva warned, before looking towards Ezra. “Keep her safe.”

“Will do.” He said as he folded his arms across his chest and watched as you unlocked the door to let them out into the crisp afternoon air. 

You turned to face him once the vessel was locked up tight again. “That went well.”

“It did.” He drawled out as he crowded in close to you, resting a hand against the wall beside your head as he leaned towards you. You weren’t pinned in — you could slip out from beneath him easily, his hand wasn’t even at your hip. 

“How’d I do?” He questioned, his eyes meeting yours. There was a warmth there, one that you desperately wanted to hold onto. 

“I think you were convincing.” You told him, trying to hide the way your voice wavered. “That kiss really sold it.”

“Sorry,” Ezra rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. “It felt natural.” 

“It was.” You assured him, reaching out to brush your fingers over his shoulder. “You would’ve definitely kissed me in that moment.” You tilted your chin, angling your face towards him. “Thank you for playing along.” 

Ezra’s other hand moved in to curl around your hip, keeping you right there. Not that you were trying to get away. “It wasn’t just playing along.”

You exhaled shakily. “I know.” 

“This must be agonizing for you.” His brows knit together as he looked down at you, “I don’t mean to prolong your suff—“

Your fingers moved to his jaw and you drew him in for a kiss. It was agonizing. He was right about that. Having him so close, yet so far away was pulling you apart, thread by thread.

It reminded you of that first night with him, the hesitation that blossomed into desperation. You toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck as he eased into the kiss, his tongue dragging over the roof of your mouth as he kissed you thoroughly.

Ezra pressed his leg in between your thighs, effectively pinning you against the cool durasteel wall. Molten desire pooled in your core — it hadn’t fully abated since the full moon, but you’d just ignored it. But it was hard to ignore his knee grinding against your clit and his cock hard between your bodies. 

He pulled back, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. “Is this… I don’t wish to overstep the line drawn between us.” He whispered, even as he dragged his hand up the length of your side. 

You blinked at him as you tried to wade through the wants to find the rational response for this. You wanted him, you would always want him. But what was it for him? Was he just using you? This wasn’t the same Ezra that you loved. 

“Just keep kissing me,” You told him, your eyes searching his for that fleeting second before he leaned in again. His teeth scraped over yours, before his tongue soothed the faint ache. 

His fingers slid beneath the hem of your shirt, warm skin finding yours. Just as greedy as the way he kissed you. 

Ezra was just as touch starved as he had been when you first met him. Just as desperate to find a connection — with you. But it was different. 

You had only just overcome your fears with him. You could believe your Ezra when he told you he wasn’t using you, but you couldn’t believe this Ezra. This was just an itch to scratch, relief after five years of solitude. He just wanted to fuck and it probably didn’t even matter if it was you.

Ezra froze when you tensed against him, his hand dropping from your side. “Moonbeam?” He questioned as he drew back to look at you. “What’s wrong?” 

You sank back against the wall, looking away from him. “I don’t think I can do this.” You told him quietly. “I want to, but…”

“Just because you want something, doesn’t mean you should do it.” Ezra drawled out, leaning in to press his lips to your forehead. “Forgive me for overstepping.”

“You didn’t.” You assured him, brushing your fingers through the hair that fell across his own forehead. “I kissed you. Remember?”

Ezra chuckled, “Quite vividly.” 

You exhaled shakily, “How honest do you want me to be about the past?”

He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he considered your question. “I don’t mind you telling me about our time together.” He reached down and took your hand into yours, bringing it to his lips. 

“Alright,” You nodded slowly. “Do you want to go sit?” 

“Sure.” Ezra reluctantly released his hold on your hand, letting you slip past him as you headed for the common area. He followed after, giving you more space than he had before. 

This time, he remained standing while you perched uncomfortably on the sofa. “You already know about the deal and Moros.” You reminded him, “But what I didn’t tell you was that part of his little game included forcing me to live through a moment in your past.”

Ezra frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I was essentially inside of Roz’s body for the entire day leading up to…” You made a face. “Well.”

“Shit.”

“It got under my skin. You and I hit a bit of a rough patch because of it. I have my own baggage.” You rubbed your hands together. “We had only just gotten over it.” You met his eyes. “I think I’m officially past wanting to just be a means to an end for someone.”

Ezra dragged his fingers through his hair, sighing heavily. “I’m sorry that you’ve been made to feel that way.” He said softly. “I shouldn’t have kissed you when they were here. But there’s a part of me that gravitates to you. That wants… a lot more than I should ask of you.”

“Don’t.” You shook your head, holding up a hand to stop him. “I shouldn’t have asked you to pretend like everything was normal because it’s not.” You lowered your gaze to the floor, “I’m not good at this.” 

Ezra moved to you, sinking down onto the soft beside you. “May I?”

“Yes.” Your voice cracked, as tears welled up in your eyes. 

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he tried to soothe you. You didn’t have the heart to tell him it only made you want to cry harder. It was so familiar, the warmth of his embrace, the whispered words of assurance. 

Ezra ran his hand down your spine, “I’m sorry moonbeam. I’m so sorry.” 

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, your tears falling against his skin as you let yourself cry. You couldn’t keep bottling it up. You were going through hell and you didn’t have the one person you needed. Just a facade of them. 

“I’m sorry.” You sniffed, tilting your head to look at him. “These hormones are no joke.” 

“It’s alright.” He assured you, “We’re both in an impossible situation.”

“It’s the worst.” You complained, shifting in his embrace so you were leaning back against his chest with your legs stretched out on the crate in front of you. “And I’m mad because you’re missing out on this sweet spot that you were looking forward to.”

“What’s that?” He questioned, winding his arm around your waist so he could cradle your stomach in his hand once more. 

“Well,” You let out a sputtering laugh. “I think you know without knowing.” 

“Oh.” Ezra exhaled slowly. “Do you not want me to—“

“No!” You covered his hand with yours. “It’s nice.”

“I can hear their heartbeat.” Ezra told you, “It’s faint, but just as steady as your own. It makes me feel… pride?” He pressed his lips to your shoulder, lingering there. “I feel so many things that I don’t understand.”

“I know. I’ve pushed too hard.” You admitted. “I’ll be gone for a week to restock. I’m sure you’re looking forward to that time alone.” You didn’t mean to sound as bitter as you did. “You won’t have to put up with an uncomfortably hormonal woman. Is she horny? Is she sad?” 

Ezra snorted, “I don’t mind.” 

You gave him a skeptical look. “I appreciate that lie.”

He stroked his hand over your stomach, “I’m not lying. It’s nice to have someone here. To not be alone.” Ezra confessed. “I’ve never had such an easy full moon before.”

“Really?” You questioned, turning towards him then. “You were always cagey about your transformations.” 

Ezra shrugged, “I don’t know how much I should tell you. Maybe I had good reason to keep these things from you.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I already know you were keeping shit from me. It’s not a secret anymore.” 

“If I loved you,” Ezra started. “And I know I did. I wouldn’t have wanted you to know how bad it was.” 

“How bad is it?”

Ezra stared at you for a long moment before he answered, “There is no word to explain the pain, moonbeam. Agony pales in comparison to the reality. Even now I ache.” 

“You never…” You shook your head. “I knew about the headaches, but I didn’t know about everything else.” 

“A person gets used to living with pain.” Ezra offered lightly. “They overlook the grinding pain in their joints, the blinding knife between their brows. Especially if they’ve found something to look forward to.” 

“I feel like I forced myself into your life.” You told him hesitantly. “You told me to leave and I still came back.”

“And I want you to come back still.” Ezra whispered. 

“I plan to.” Your chest hurt as you held his gaze. “You may not remember me yet, but the beast still does. I’m not leaving either part of you behind.” 

“Moonbeam?”

You smiled a little. “Yes?”

Ezra shook his head as he exhaled, “Nevermind.”

“No. What is it?” You reached out and urged him to look at you again. 

“I was going to ask if I may kiss you.” Ezra told you as he leaned into your touch. 

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes.”

His eyes widened a little, a smile spreading over his lips. He leaned in then, brushing his lips gently over yours. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You whispered, pressing your forehead against his, stroking your fingers over his scruffy jaw. 

“Not giving up on me.” He brushed his nose against yours. 

“We’ll figure this out.” You told him, “Together.”

[cowboyified]

Below are some WIPs I’m releasing into the wild. They were all written at different times over the past two years so any mistakes/cliches you can blame on past June, I don’t know them. 

Go, be free.

This first one I think is the one I’m most fond of. I had such a vision for it; bottlecaps in trees, river swimming, making out against the fridge, all that good stuff you get with weecest. 

The summer Sam is seventeen they stay in one place for long enough Dean starts referring to it as ‘home’. 

It’s an old farmhouse, miles from any other structure, bar an outhouse and hay shed. There’s a porch running the length of the front and back, the wooden boards pulled up from their nails, wavy with the weather. Weatherboard paint peeling, wallpaper inside torn and missing in most places. 

They’re squatting, technically. The property owned by a family saved by hunters once, friends of friends of Bobby’s, too distraught by what they’d witnessed to raise their kids on cursed land. Dean had told Sam that Dad had been told by Bobby that had been told by Pastor Jim that it was chupacabras. A whole pack of ‘em, feeding off the lambs in the back paddock, tried to take a bite out of the baby girl and Sam had said, “As if man, those things are tiny, I’ve seen pictures, you could kick one and it would limp away like a fucking chihuaha, you scared of chihuahas, huh, Dean?” But Sam still hikes his sheet up under his chin when he hears scuffling under their window between sleep. 

There’s remnants of the house’s past inhabitants still scattered around the place. Sam had stood and slid two inches on the wheels of a tiny replica car that had been jammed under the couch the second day they arrived, piffed it at his brother’s head, who’d caught it, exclaimed that it was Camero, dude, treat her with some respect and had sat it on top of the fridge. 

The bookshelf in the corner of their shared bedroom holds mostly dust and tattered occult books stolen from libraries from all over the country, left by hunters who have found what they’ve needed and moved on. There are a few of the worst Stephen King novels shoved haphazardly on the top shelf and Sam finds something funny in that, the irony in enjoying bad horror when the real deal lurks behind the screen door. 

Dean gives him a look when Sam pulls down and cracks open a copy of The Tommyknockers, snorts, “Haven’t you read that one already?” and Sam says, tucking himself into bed, “Yeah, it fucking sucks, King was royally off his head while writing it, that’s why it’s so good.” Sam finishes three quarters of it in one sitting while listening to Dean’s quiet snores from the other side of the room. 

It’s a ten minute drive to the closest town, an off the highway, invisible to the outside world, kind of one-street community. No reason to take the exit if you don’t already know it’s there, one store, one gas station, one bar in an old brick post office building, unfitting, the carpet pulled up at the corners but home to the best fries Sam has ever had in his life. 

Sam follows Dean out to the courtyard, neither of them are legally old enough to drink but there’s nothing else to do but to get respectably drunk in a place like this, anyone that has lived long enough in the true country is some kind of functioning alcoholic, so Dean orders a beer and isn’t asked for ID. In a town small enough for everyone to know every intricate detail in the threads of dirty laundry, they are foreigners. No one knows where they’re from or where they’re going and Sam knows that Dean likes it that way.

It’s never been a secret that Sam prefers to feel like he has a part in everyday normalcy. Dean thrives under anonymity, gets a kick out of it because it makes him feel dangerous. He had stopped accompanying Sam to school two states ago, a silent agreement with their father when Dean had come home early and helped John cut splits into the tips of bullets instead. Like hell I’m signing up for compulsory extra curricular activities. What’s the point in making friends with people whose biggest concerns are the answers to whatever bullshit test and who fucked who last Friday? 

Finding comfort in a nine-to-five kind of community is a flaw Sam’s been burdened to deal with. 

It’s early afternoon, the courtyard is empty and the table they chose rocks on its legs every time Dean slides his drink over for Sam to share. It’s bitter and Sam hasn’t had enough beer in his life to know if it’s supposed to be like that or if it has just soured from the long journey it took to get from the brewery to their glass. He drinks it and doesn’t grimace because his brother is looking at him through the rays of warm country sun. 

“Tastes like piss, huh,” Dean says, leaning forward out of the light so Sam can see him clearly again. He takes back the glass. 

“S’not that bad,” Sam replies, rubbing the leftover condensation into his hand, doesn’t look at Dean, finds it hard these days, twists in his gut all wrong. Sam knows why. 

His brother hums, “There’s gotta be something else to do around here.”

Sam thinks, Dad’s left the car, we can go wherever we want, but doesn’t say it because his brother is loyal to a disastrous fault. 

That’s a recurring thought. Sam in the shotgun seat, his brother behind the wheel, driving away. Just away, to someplace else and they’d be okay because they’d have each other and all Sam ever needs is his brother, like water. But John will be back in two weeks, term starts again in a month and he needs his father to sign the enrollment forms. Two more years. 

“You see the old dredge outside of town?” Sam asks, remembers passing it when they arrived, all twisted, rusting metal, the bones of it against the setting sun.

“What did I tell you about respecting your elders?”

“You told me that they all smell like porridge and are easily susceptible to sleight of hand. No, Dean, Dredge,” Sam stresses. “Big rusty old machine that pulls minerals out of water.”

“Looking to strike big, Sammy?”

“Yeah, you see, my family is poor, brother at home too dumb to get a job. Our father went to get milk and never came back,” Sam sniffs for effect. “I can’t go home empty handed again, sir.” 

“Ah, a real sob story,” Dean nods in understanding, tips his head back and finishes the beer. “Let’s get out there then, sonny. We shan't let that simpleton, downright fool of a brother go hungry.” Dean jabs Sam in the ribs when he stands, hard enough for him to gasp, gets Sam’s head under his arm before he can recover. Sam claws embarrassingly at his brother’s torso, face pressed warm into the side of Dean’s waist. 

“I will pray for us young Samuel, for I too, dream of riches,” his brother is exclaiming, tripping them out and onto the street. “I only ask that we share whatever bounty dredged as I saw the most exquisite pony a few miles back and I simply must have it.”

And Sam thinks - with his flushed cheek hard against Dean’s skin through the thin sweaty fabric of his shirt, heart beating too fast against his ribs in a way that has nothing to do with exhaustion - you can have it all. 

---

Sam’s brother’s perpetual state of being is ten miles over the speed limit; this can be applied to almost every aspect of him. Dean goes and goes and rarely stops. They’re pushing double that out of town, north of their property, into the forever stretch of flat land and Sam loses himself in it. That idea of away, of going and going and that Dean could take him because he’s an expert in the field. 

The Impala blasts Born To Be Wild and Sam imagines the lyrics spreading out over the dry grass. He rolls the window down and throws his head out, trying his best to keep his eyes open against the road’s wind. The sun beats down, warmth soaking through and into his bones and Sam laughs as the cattle turn to catch a glimpse of them soaring. 

Dean pulls him in, tugs at the back of his shirt, says something along the lines of, what are you, a dog? Should get you a shock collar for all the times you’re a little bitch, but Sam can’t hear him over the roaring of the open window and the look of transparent glee on Dean’s face, it’s loud and assaulting and Sam has to turn away because seeing Dean like that wobbles him dangerously from the nonchalant facade he has going on in relation to how he feels about his brother. But mostly his face hurts from smiling too wide.

Used as a warm up last year. Boyking!Sam

He thinks he’s in Louisiana, maybe. That he got here in the tray of a pickup and that he couldn’t feel the wind in his hair like maybe he should. The driver had stopped for a piss-break and Sam had snapped his neck without his hands.

He rubs them together now, tries to feel guilty but there’s nothing to feel guilty about because his hands are clean; he doesn’t have to use them anymore. 

Sam thinks he’s in Louisiana because he stepped out of the truck and into a wet kind of heat. There’s a church with thick greenery growing over the roof and white wood that’s been mold-blackened by the humidity. He laughs to the darkness because it's very funny to him that he’s driven himself subconsciously to a place of grace. 

He skips up the steps, two at a time, gleefully. The smell of the bayou and rotting wood has put him in a good mood. The lock snaps when he blinks, the chain unraveling and snaking into a coil at his feet. The doors open for him and maybe he did that with his mind too, or maybe they were just expecting him. 

The church has been used recently, its interior better kept than the outside, bibles tucked neatly in the backs of pews, ribbons tied into plaits. The white of the moon falls in blankets through the windows, shadows of leaves moving over the floor like rippling water and the bust of Mother Mary prays for him at the altar. 

Sam spreads his arms and addresses her, says to the room at large, “Shall I repent for my sins, oh Lord?” and it echoes, gives him goosebumps, a current under his skin. He has an audience here because God is omnipresent, this is a place of worship and Sam has always been good at that. 

A church in Louisiana, standing before a plaster of his mother’s namesake in a church for a God he used to think could have some defying factor in a destiny that was always going to be concrete. It’s funny, blatantly. Sam puts his hands gently to Mary’s cold face, kisses her on her lips before crushing her head, spraying ceramic. 

Sam stands behind the lectern, hands red with his own blood now, sticking the pages of the Good Book. He’s read it before anyway. 

“Am I to be forgiven?” 

Last is a casefic I had planned out in 2019. I didn’t get very far into the actual writing part of it, but I still think the setting is cool, less so the plot I had in mind. 

Just outside of Bridgeport, Connecticut there’s a community built on a sandbar. A small secluded semi-island, connected to the mainland by a mile-long beachfront. A town of forty to fifty now abandoned, vandalised residences.

The police find the bodies of the boys there, bleeding out and into the sand, each other’s skin caught under their fingernails. 

Sam watches as his brother pulls the sheet back from one of the corpses, laying blue on the steel morgue tray. He’s a kid, a boy, not even eighteen. Hairless, lanky, multiple stab wounds puckered around his belly and Sam thinks he does not look peaceful for someone who is meant to be at rest. 

Dean is quieter than usual, his body language stiff. They’ve seen their fair share of dead kids but Sam thinks that this one might look a little too much like an adolescent version of himself. Shaggy brown hair, too long limbs, college on the horizon. Sam blankets the sheet back over the boy’s face and hears his brother exhale in what he thinks might be relief.

The coroner tells them that the other two are the same, besides the youngest one. He’d been blinded, thumbs pushed through his eyes until they popped like grapes. He asks if they want to see him too and Sam says no, thank you, we’ve got what we need.

Which is a whole lot of nothing, but they’ve only just arrived and there’s evidence that doesn’t involve corpses that needs to be checked.

“Pussied out in there huh, Sammy?” Dean says as they’re walking down the funeral home’s front steps, past the manicured roses and trimmed lawn. You see these perfect hedges? We’ll treat your dead mother with the same detailed care!

Sam pulls at his tie and scoffs because he knows he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable standing in the morgue; cases that involve kids always rub them both wrong.

[jamieatthebarricade]

Maids to Wives // Chapter 3

An Outlander AU based loosely on the TV Show and real life in the historic Jamestown

In 1619, one hundred and forty-four English women from good families crossed the Atlantic in response to the Virginia Company of London’s call for maids “young and corrupt” to make wives for the planters of it’s new colony in Virginia. One in six of the maids could even claim gentry status. Although promised a free choice of husband, they were in effect being traded into marriage for a bride price of 150 pounds of best leaf tobacco, the profits to flow to individual investors

In 1619, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp made the voyage to do one thing: marry a man she's never met. But when she arrives, she comes to the startling realization that her heart belongs to someone else, a certain James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser.

Find Maids to Wives on Archive of Our Own!

Chapter 3 : Maids to Wives

“Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.”

- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

May 16th, 1619, Claire’s POV

The air was crisper in the new world, that was the first thing I noticed. The smell of soft pinewood, salt water, and fresh bodies filled my nose. Around me was open air, no tall buildings or hundreds of people in sight. I don’t remember the air being this clean since I traveled with my uncle.

While the air was clearer, there was also a thick fog of tension within the ship. Since seeing land, many of us women had realized how drastic our lives would change in less than a few hours. Either a woman would meet the love of her life, or she would enter a life of hell. I silently hoped for the first option. It was a new day, and we were nearly to the mainland. ‘You should tidy up’ my brain told me, as I looked around trying to find any reflective surface Managing to borrow a small piece of glass from another woman, my reflection stared back at me. Small bits of hair were falling out of my neat bun I had tried to make earlier in the day. The sailors wouldn’t let us use the water for washing up and such, so I wasn’t doubtful I didn’t smell all that good. I decided to use my remaining water ration to quickly wet my underarms as a sort of rugged wash. I smelt myself quick and didn’t find any odar too terrible. 

Looking into my reflection, I smiled. The curls around my face sprang out like a lion's mane, and thankfully to the sun, my face had a bit of color to it. I was no longer the ghostly pale my uncle lamb used to describe me as. He would call me a ghost, depending on where we were and how much sunlight I got. Around me, other ladies were trying to freshen themselves up as much as they could. Geillis had managed to braid a few strands in her long auburn hair. Mary also used some drinking water to give her hair a quick rinse. We all checked each other and were happy with what we were seeing.

“Are ye ready, Claire?” Geillis smiled at me. In truth I didn’t know if I was ready, but there was no turning back from it now. Weeks of waiting and daydreaming were finally coming true today. I was just happy to be on land, a different land, and start this adventure. “I hope my husband is tall. And fit. And has a nice arse” I threw my rag at Geillis in a joking matter. She rarely held back when it came to matters such as female sexuality. Geillis was truly an open book.

At the mention of arse, Mary flushed a nice shade of ruby. “You shouldn’t be mentioning such things!” She whispered softly under her breath, just loud enough for me and Geillis to hear. Geillis in turn laughed and placed a loving arm around Mary’s shoulders.

“If ye think arse is bad, what do ye think happens on the wedding night?” Mary’s face managed to blush an even deeper shade of red, and she quickly hurried into the line for disembarking the ship. Geillis laughed as she ran away, smiling contentedly to herself. 

“That lass is gonna have an interesting time with her new husband” Geillis and me walked over to where the rest of the women were waiting, including Mary. As Geillis looked on I stared out to the land. Grass was much greener than I remembered, and the sky seemed to shine a brighter shade of blue. It was like stepping through a portal into a strange new world, which is strangely what this is. I’m a stranger in a new world who wasn’t awaiting my arrival. Fear tug at my heart at the possibility of something happening. What if there wasn’t enough food? What if we were attacked by a new settlement? I suddenly felt exposed to danger, and subconsciously wrapped my cloak around my body, like a shield.

‘Whatever happens’ I thought. ‘At least I have Geillis and Mary here’. I was fortunate and grateful to have made such great friends on the voyage. Sure, I was expected to be a new wife, but who knew if a man could fill a hole of loneliness and want for a friendship. If something were to happen and I couldn’t tell my spouse, I knew that Geillis and Mary would be there for me.

“Claire, are ye alright? Ye starin’ at nothing,” Geillis gave me a gentle tap on my shoulder, breaking me from my thought haze. They already started carting women off the ship, and Me and Geillis were next in line. The shouts of multiple crewmen filled my ear, and I heard a man shouting the names of both women and the men who would marry them. 

Me and Geillis made our way onto the long boardwalk, and as we were half way, we heard Mary’s name being called.

“Mary Hawkins, Alex Randall,” A short but handsome young man emerged from the crowd. He looked no older than Mary, and his eyes lit up when he saw her. Anxiously, he walked over to her and held out a hand. I could see the blush from her cheeks as they walked away. ‘They’re going to make a wonderful marriage’.

I smiled internally at the sight of them. It was like seeing a sister finding the love of her life, I had nothing but joy for the 2 of them. I scanned the audience. There were men of all different ages and backgrounds. Tall men, short men. Young men, and old men. Most of the young men were reasonably handsome, handsome enough to tolerate. Many of them looked unwashed, which I figured would be the case as most men typically didn’t care that much about hygiene, which was an unfortunate trait.

When we got down to the land, the minute I put my foot down I felt a sense of calm wash over me. Whatever would happen, I’m here now. The feeling of knowing I couldn’t leave, even if I tried, gave me a sense of home oddly enough.

Geillis stood in front of men, waiting behind 2 more women. Slowly their names were called and met with their respective husbands.

“Suzette Augustin, Murtagh Fraser,” Suzette was french, that was one of the only things I knew about her. She was pretty, with very long black hair and a sweet smile, which lit up brightly as Murtagh stepped from the crowd. He was among the tallest of the group, wearing a tartan wrapped around his middle. His face was dark and aged, but he was still very handsome. Suzette definitely thought so, taking his hand politely, but I could see the excitement bouncing off of her.

They were down to the last person before Geillis. All of a sudden, the nerves came rushing back. I would be meeting my future husband in less than 5 minutes. What if he doesn’t like me? What if I don’t like him? I felt the sudden urge to run and hide from all of this, and I looked around quickly for a route (as if I actually had the nerve to run), when suddenly my eyes met with a man. 

He was probably the tallest, leaving me to wonder why I didn’t notice him before as he stood at least a few inches above the other men. His hair was bright ginger and slightly tostled. When I looked at him, all worries and troubles melted away. ‘Did he see the fear in my eyes?’ I wondered. I thought he would look away or turn his attention to one of the other women but his gaze stared at me. Suddenly the urge to run was gone, as if he was holding me by the shoulders. I felt peaceful, like this whole situation wasn’t that bad. 

Our connection was only broken when I felt a nudge behind me, indicating that I had to move forward. I did, but tried to keep my eyes on him a little longer. I didn’t even know his name, yet he was a familiar face in a sea of strangers. I tried to chase that feeling of serenity in his face just a minute longer.

He seemed like he was following me too, his head turning with my step. ‘Did he feel this same serenity?’ Maybe he was getting a bride today, and was just if not more nervous than I was. Deep down a part of me hoped I was to be the bride, but I tried to shake that thought quickly. I didn’t even know this man, I didn’t need to want him this bad.

I turned my head quickly forward, hoping that he didn’t find the action malicious. Even standing forward I still felt his eyes on me, and tried my best to keep my gaze ahead. Geillis and then me, and Geillis was already telling her name to the man.

“Geillis Edgars, Arthur Duncan” A short, stout man emerged from the crowd. He was at least 20 years her senior, and about 5 inches below her. As I saw Geillis’ face drop, I concealed my hand and tried to reach out for Geillis, but Arthur was already by her side, taking her hand lovingly. She took it hesitantly, and as they walked away, Geillis turned back and gave me a sad look. ‘I needed to see her later’.

“What’s your name?” a thick british accent said in front of me. My attention turned and I saw a man, maybe in his late 40s, and a big book in front of him.

“Claire Beuachamp,” I stammered, trying to keep my voice stable as best I could. I wanted to look into the crowd and find that man again. So far, his gaze was the only thing that brought me peace.

“Claire Beauchamp, Frank Randall” the man shouted. I looked out into the crowd, and the ginger man’s face dropped. It wasn’t the same calming look as before. Was he Frank Randall? Perhaps I mistook our connection before. 

Thankfully, another man emerged behind him. He was around my height and a deep, dark face. His hair was a nice brown, and he seemed to be balding but it didn’t age him any bit. He stood in front of me, and took my right hand, giving it a soft kiss on top. His hands were warm, and gave me a sense of hope. ‘I could build a life with this man’ I thought happily, smiling to him, which caused his face to light up as well. 

We walked away from the ship, right towards the ginger man. As we walked towards him, his gaze fell on me again, but this time it wasn’t a calm feeling that came over me. It was more of a flutter, like I was tongue tied without even talking to him. When we passed him, my shoulder brushed him softly. I quickly turned, causing Frank to stop in his path.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. He opened his mouth to answer but I felt a tug on my hand and before I knew it, our interaction was over. I looked over to Frank, and his kind face from before was changed to slight frustration.

Turning back once more, I caught his eye for only a second, yet I found so much solace in his face. It wasn’t love like you read about in stories, but it was understanding, and for some that’s a start. 

This time he was the one to look away, but quite hesitantly. My gaze shifted as well and and all of a sudden I wondered if I was making the right choice. I hadn’t even met both men yet, but the ginger man looked at me as if he was wrapping himself around me like a blanket, shielding me from any worries to come. I looked back at frank and didn’t find that same warmness. 

Instead, the feeling of fear and the want to run came back, but this time, I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to go back home or back to my friends. I wanted to find out what that man’s name was.

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Sinners & Saints-Chapter Two

                  Special thanks to @statell​ for all your help

Previous chapters on AO3

Chapter Two

Claire emerged from a taxi in a tight black pencil skirt and black high heels as she walked into the upscale restaurant. She knocked on a door with a “espace de rangement” sign on display. The door opened to a nice looking man, impeccably dressed, and she could see her Godfather standing to greet her. He held his arms out for an embrace.

“My darling Bear, it is so good to see you alive and well.” He kissed both of her cheeks and looked her over for bruises. “Quite a scare you gave me yesterday.” He looked into her eyes, “did you arrange for the explosion? The news is reporting natural causes, a gas leak I believe.”

“Certainly not. I wouldn’t put the art at risk like that, besides, I could have done it in my sleep.”

“The news had video of you being rescued, quite terrifying. Do you know the man you were trapped with?”

“Yes, James Fraser. For twenty hours I laid on top of Jamie Fraser and found him to be quite charming and attentive.”

Javier Charvet laughed from his belly and looked at his men enjoying the humor. He pulled a chair out for Claire and sat down next to her. Someone spread a white cloth in front of him while Claire pulled a rolled canvas from her purse. Javier put white gloves on and carefully unrolled the painting where he could examine it under a high powered magnifying glass. He sat up and signaled to his man who left the room, presumably to initiate the transfer of the deed for the Italian property.

“Little Bear, what in God’s name is the Senator doing? I’m talking about his bid for governor announced today.”

“His what?”

Javier looked up with compassionate eyes. “You didn’t know. Has the bastard even called you yet?”

“Yes, yes, I got a call from Mary this morning.”

“And all this time I thought his name was Frank.”

“Mary is his secretary, like his right hand.”

“I know Bear, like I know what grades she got in middle school and that she is a lesbian. I was being sarcastic.”

Javier could see the pain on Claire’s face and backed off. “You must go, I understand. I will have the deed delivered to you in a few hours. Go out through the kitchen, Joseph is waiting to take you back.”

Javier Charvet was a best friend to Claire’s father until the day he died, along with her mother, in a car crash. He tried to get custody of little Claire, but her Uncle Lamb was a blood relative and the courts awarded custody to him. Javier continued to fight for her through the years they were in Egypt and South America, arguing it was no place to raise a young lady. Finally, when Claire was fifteen, the court let her decide where she wanted to live and she chose France with Javier.

Claire did not want to hurt Uncle Lamb, but she was ready to get out of the dirt and sleep in a regular house with indoor plumbing. The warm love and attention she received from Javier was an unexpected bonus and she blossomed under his care. Whenever he saw her, his face would light up and he would call her Claire Bear which was shortened through the years to just Bear. She stayed with Javier through graduate school, leaving for America when she was hired by University of Chicago. That was three years ago.

Claire sat back in the front seat and sighed. She was reeling emotionally after hearing Frank had announced his bid for governor. He never talked to her about it, come to think of it, he never talked about anything. Their relationship felt settled and comfortable from day one, like couples who had spent thirty years together. She couldn’t remember either of them doing anything romantic for the other and suddenly felt like crying her eyes out. What she needed was a day to be selfish and pretend she was someone else who wasn’t saddled with a flatline relationship. She directed Joseph to the retail district and blew him a kiss promising to find a safe way home. She wanted to be free for the next two days and that started with something fun and funky to wear tomorrow.

Javier assigned two of his men to investigate the Senator again. “Find out what projects have his support, who are the major players, who is backing his bid for governor. Find out what master he serves.”

The next day, Claire woke up excited to walk the Louvre. She straightened her hair and added some makeup before jumping into one of her new sundresses. She looked into the full-length mirror and giggled at the strange reflection. The top of the dress was fitted, connecting at the back of her neck leaving her shoulders bare. The skirt had yards of soft fabric that fell just below her knee and a studded belt. The dress was sunshine yellow with silver studs. Nothing could be farther from the tailored suits and conservative colors that filled her closets at home. She smiled and almost skipped out of the hotel to catch a taxi.

Jamie sat at the hotel pool sipping his coffee, and quietly losing his mind. The team spent seven hours yesterday pouring over every art theft attributed to Casper… again, and they had nothing. He took a deep breath and started making phone calls to those he served feeling like he would explode any minute. He had checked the airlines and knew there were no flights to Chicago until tomorrow, so she was still in town most likely. He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. Fuck it, he thought, let's see if lightning will strike twice. He made his way to the Louvre.

Claire drifted happily through the museum walking close to the Virgin of the Rocks to examine the brush strokes. She jumped when someone spoke to her from behind.

It’s obvious there was a second hand, don’t you agree?”

Claire spun around to see Jamie Fraser smiling at her. There was initial surprise and happy excitement in her face which she covered quickly, turning back to the painting.

“I do not agree. I have always advocated a single hand and it’s the crazy conspiracy theorists who lead people down that road. You should know better than to comment on fine art, Mister Fraser.”

Jamie looked confused by her comment. “I beg to differ madam. I have an art degree after all.”

Claire giggled at the hurt look he concocted, “what kind of degree?”

When she turned back to him and looked up at his face, Jamie nearly forgot to breathe. “Nothing like yours and may I ask how you are allowed to walk the streets of an unsuspecting Paris? How many cars collided watching you walk down the sidewalk, hmmm?”

Claire was laughing at his charm and feeling flattered. “Suppose you do Paris a favor and walk with me?”

Claire looped her arm in his and they walked, admired the paintings, sat and discussed, joked and flirted for hours. Jamie’s knowledge of the masters was surprising and made for stimulating conversation. He had a profound appreciation for the art and artist, much like her own. After four hours they called it a day and went to find a sidewalk cafe for refreshment. Claire watched Jamie look through the three menus at the table and decided to be brave.

“Come on, handsome, this place is too boring.” She spun in the other direction as the wind caught the ample fabric of her skirt and teased it up until she could get a hold of it. They heard a loud crash as a driver struck a parked car and suddenly Jamie’s arm was around her waist pulling her along.

“I rest my case madam. Where is it we are going for more exciting refreshment?”

Claire was laughing at Jamie and feeling bad for the driver, “it’s close and you will love it because they have beer and volleyball outside. It’s quite popular in America.”

Jamie could not get the image of Claire’s legs out of his mind but dedicated himself to being less flirty with her. With a last look at her backside, he let his eyes follow the curves to her feet.

“I can’t believe you can walk the Louvre in heels.”

“I bought flat sandals for today but kept running into walls, so I went back to what I’m used to.”

“Thank God they don’t accentuate your statuesque figure, or perfect posture,” said rolling his eyes, making her laugh again.

She was so easy to talk to, and joke with, Jamie winced remembering her disarming banter in the Louvre that made him a slave to her enjoyment.

“Listen, Sassenach, I am sorry for the flirting, I lost my head with a very pretty girl, who is engaged to be married. I promise to behave like a gentleman while we have a beer and then see you home safely. Right after this…” He pulled her to him and stuck his nose against her neck breathing deeply and releasing her instantly with a happy grin. “You smell like heaven lass.”

Claire was stunned by the cascade of feelings elicited by Jamie’s hug and the feel of his skin against her neck. When he released her she almost fell over, reaching for his arm to steady herself.

“That’s quite alright, it is a lovely scent.”

They entered a dark bar with a rousing crowd who were drinking the afternoon away. The beer was reviving while they talked about their time under the rubble and the mouse that ran up her leg. He asked about her lecture, fascinated by her travels to bring the love of art to the masses. She had been in more countries than he had and entertained him with anecdotes. Sitting in a booth gave her the freedom to look at his face, shoulders, and arms. He was dressed casually in jeans and a polo shirt that did little to hide his massive biceps and chest. She was careful to look discreetly until the second beer arrived which made it harder to pretend.

“Let’s watch the volleyball for a while, Sassenach, then I’ll see you back to your hotel.”

The fresh air helped to clear Claire’s head and she chose a team to root for. The game was fast and fun and she lost herself in the competition, slapping Jamie’s leg at times when her team scored. She didn’t notice how quiet he had become.

True to his word, Jamie was polite and attentive for the rest of their time together. Inside, he went to battle with the part of himself that wanted a girl like Claire and would be ruthless to win her. His decent side won, and he dropped her at her hotel before kissing her forehead and thanking her for a memorable afternoon.

Claire smiled and waved goodbye. Her glass face always gave the observer a look into her true emotion and Jamie saw her confusion and her interest. He needed to get out of Paris, first thing tomorrow. Go home to Scotland and forget about this time with the Sassenach. It felt like he lost a piece of himself today, a piece that remained with her. It made him feel empty inside.

Claire ordered food in her room and sat on the terrace, thinking about Jamie, Paris, and Frank. If he had given her his cell phone number, she would have called him and talked about her crazy feelings and desire for him. He mentioned the name of his hotel several times that afternoon. She tried to resist the seduction that played on a continuous loop in her mind. If only…

Jamie opened his eyes in a dark room when he felt his bed move and was instantly awake. He smelled her perfume and rolled toward the scent as she turned on a light. She was removing her shoes and then her belt and looked like she might join him in bed.

“Your dress lass.”

Claire twisted the button under her hair and pulled the dress over her head letting it drop to the floor. He pulled her to him and kissed her like his life depended on it. The kisses were sweet and long, building the fire she craved. For the next hour, he felt each curve, tasted every part of her, and pushed himself into her wet softness when she begged him to.

Claire walked naked to his room refrigerator where she stashed a bottle of champagne and a bowl of fresh strawberries. She pushed pillows against the headboard so Jamie could sit up and then straddled him, handing him a glass and placing a strawberry in his mouth. The ground rules were unspoken yet they both knew not to ask or comment on what this was. It just was.

“How is it you move through my door, room, and refrigerator without making a sound lass?”

“I’m a cat burglar,” said with honesty

Later Jamie led Claire to his outside patio with the lights of Paris spread far and wide. He danced with her, naked, holding her close, with a promise of more. Claire was very aware she was dancing with the enemy. The man was obsessed with bringing her down and his life was dedicated to that pursuit. None of it was lost on her so she lived each second with him. They made love once more and he gripped her to him as they fell asleep.

Claire looked up at Jamie’s window before getting into her cab. She would not see him again unless she made a mistake and he caught Casper. She wondered if she could walk away from stealing art for a man like Jamie. The answer was moot. It was the only thing that made her feel alive.

Later, Claire walked to the front desk to check out of the hotel. On her way to the exit, she felt someone pull her back and looked into the eyes of Jamie Fraser. He reached into her purse and pulled her phone out, punching in his contact information. He kissed her soundly and stroked her cheek.

“I still owe you a life Sassenach, and as I said, I’ll be the first one there.” He disappeared into the throng of people leaving the resort and Claire dropped into a couch to slow her racing heart.

Landing at O’Hare airport did wonders for popping the pink balloon Claire was in. She looked out at the familiar sights of home and Jamie Fraser was reassigned to the distant memory file in her mind. Like so many Sorority nights in her past. She felt strong and ready to tackle the remainder of the semester. When she saw Geillis she quickened her step and hugged her friend like her favorite puppy. The two women chatted while waiting for luggage and then heading home. When Claire walked into her townhouse Paris no longer existed. She was back.

Jamie had to get out of Paris before he lost his mind. Another failed attempt to catch Casper and a stunning girl left her mark on him and then disappeared. He made haste getting back to his farm in Scotland where the demands of the land would pull him back to normal. He assigned his top man to wrap up the investigation at Sotheby’s auction house and the report was waiting in is outlook when he got to Scotland.

The explosion was caused by a gas leak, the vault video was disabled by some sort of bright light beam, there were no fingerprints unaccounted for, and the handlers were questioned but added no clues. One female handler said she left the vault for a couple of minutes with Professor Beauchamp to find the audio technician and heard the auto-locking door to the vault slam behind her. As usual, Casper left no leads to follow and disappeared with a Rembrandt worth thirty million dollars. He had nothing.

Claire and Geillis wrapped up the semester in the final month. There were graduate dissertations to evaluate, term papers to read, and final exams to grade. It was a busy month and both looked forward to a summer off. Geillis would spend two months in her pool by day and the clubs by night. Claire would be away most of that time, lecturing, appraising, promoting her book, and stealing art.

She knew she had been in the game too long. Statistically, she was on borrowed time as a thief and when she was caught, she would lose her freedom for the next twenty years. Aside from quitting, she took every precaution including secure communication, the best VPN, encryption security, and a code translator that was owned by Javier because he commissioned the program. There were no back doors installed in the programming, verified by the best security experts in France. He named the program Tom, and no one knew why. Tom was installed on Claire’s home computer and on Javier’s, no one else would use it, see it in action, or ask questions about it. Claire’s heart jumped when she saw the message and she sent it to Tom. Thirty-six seconds later she read the message from Javier and smiled.

“Easy Peezy,” she said out loud as she sent a coded RSVP and agreed to the terms, one point five million in gold. The compensation received for her service had been routed to several off-shore accounts in the beginning and her wealth grew at a staggering rate. Cash felt like an anchor that would sink her in an investigation so she switched to valued properties that would be harder to discover. The gold would be kept in a bank vault locally and used for catastrophic expenses in the future, like hiring a team of defense lawyers. It would cost her two or three hundred thousand just to get it to Chicago, but she would pay it.

Her cell phone played Frank’s ringtone and she felt a boulder in her stomach.

“Hello darling, just touching base about this weekend. Do you have plans for us yet?”

“No Frank, you have not been home since the break started so I will consider you still gone until I actually see you.”

“Alright, fair enough. I have been invited to a private island, owned by a billionaire. The people that are funding my campaign have asked me to go. It almost sounds like a rite of passage kind of thing.”

“Well, best of luck with the upcoming test of manhood, or whatever it is.”

Claire trapped her lip between her teeth and was grinding on it as Frank talked. She was so mad at him and hurt by his estrangement. This was the time of year he spent in Chicago but he was still in Washington with his high-powered new friends that filled his calendar with things to do and people to meet. She tasted blood in her mouth and went back to her packing. Her flight to Germany left in twelve hours and it would be a tense few days once she got there.

Claire paid the admission to the Johannisburg Castle, host to the Treasures of the Golden Pharaoh exhibit. She played with the micro camera hidden in a broach and pinned to her sweater, the remote was deep in a pocket of her trousers. With luck, she would have clear pictures of the employee badges, the security cameras, and the exhibit hall by dinner. Tonight she would finish her fake statue of King Amenhotep III, Tutankhamun’s grandfather who guarded his tomb for millennia before it was discovered and plundered by archaeologists in 1922. The statue would not stand up to scrutiny, but she just needed a few minutes to get out of the building.

Claire plugged a USB into the back of the pendant and downloaded the pictures onto her laptop while the last coat of gold paint was drying on the little statue. She launched her graphics program and got to work, creating an employee badge that would pass at a glance.

Claire noticed the incoming handlers would have their badges scanned before coming into the castle. When leaving for the day, they were scanned to ensure none of the treasures were going home with them. Each piece in the collection was tagged with a liquid that emitted a dose of radiation high enough to be outside the normal range but low enough to be safe. She would skip the scanner and leave through the ceiling, like she came. By midnight, everything was ready, by tomorrow night at this time she would be one and a half million dollars richer.

Claire laid in bed, but sleep would not come. She reached for her phone, launching her contacts. For the hundredth time since leaving Paris, she looked at Jamie’s name and brought the whole evening back to her mind. It was such a sweet sadness that filled her, and each time she did this Frank became less and less important. In her dreams, she slept in Jamie’s embrace all night.

[popculturebuffet]

Porky Pig Black and White Birthday Special!

H-h-hello you happy people! And it’s time for my first birthday special for  Looney Tune! While I covered some with Tex’s birthday last week, this is the first of these specials i’ve done to cover one of their stars.. and it’s apporirate it starts with their first big one: Porky Pig! 

Yes for those of you who didn’t know, and until a few months ago that included me turns out Porky wasn’t always a second banana who still had an iconic habit of closing out shorts with his signature “T-t-that’s all folks!’. He was Warner Bros first big star and mascot. Like Daffy would do in Porky’s own shorts he started out  as a sidekick in shorts for Beans the Cat

No one Brak, that’s why eventually Beans, who was a diet Mickey outside of his first short, which we’ll get to in a moment, got the boot while the stuttering adorable pig got the starring role instead. Porky was the studio’s big headliner for years and years.. but most wouldn’t know it. Outside of Porky in Wackyland, none of his shorts without Daffy or Sylvester really got a lot of play on Cartoon Network or other repackages, likely because most were black and white and for whatever reason they didn’t mix them in. But after seeing oh so many in the menu for Looney Tunes on max I was super curious, and thus super excited for this day to come so I could take a look and see how they held up, holding off watching them so they’d be fresh. And outside of three shorts: his first appearance, one suggested by my friend Blah and one picked by my Patreon Emma, as one of the perks for my patreons is getting to pick a cartoon when I do one of these 10 cartoon specials, I just went with my gut, what sounded interesting or what have you, avoidnig the ones where he was Daffy’s sidekick and what not to focus soley on porky hamself to see how he stacked up alone. 

How’d it turn out? Well join me after the cut for a nice pile of ham, bacon, sausage and other pork products as we dig into everyone’s favorite pig. Well almost everyone I have my own favorites. 

Yes yes you are sweetie. Reviews of 10 Porky Shorts, all but one in black and white, under the cut.  Trigger warning: One of these shorts involves attempted suicide Yes really. So if that’s a trigger for you, please avoid this review entirely or if you want to just avoid that specific entry, the one on Porky’s romance. Thank you. 

1. I Haven’t Got A Hat (1935): Bope A Dope A Dope Dope

As I mentioned Pre-Porky, Warner didn’t have a star to compete with Disney, and given Disney was so character based, and a lot of these shorts were coming out at the same time Disney was spinning Donald off into his own series giving them TWO huge stars, it was clear Warner needed at least one to complete. So they came up with a plan: a knock off of Our Gang, aka what would later be dubbed The Little Rascals, starring a bunch of animal kids to see if one or all caught on. As you can tell one did but as the intro made clear it took them a few shorts to realize it. 

The short is about a school recital to raise money for the teachers, just in case you thought them being underpayed was a new thing. So it’s really an excuse for four diffrent segments of hyjinks following a diffrent kid or kids each. Our first is the reason this one is here, porky’s introductoin where he stutters, and struggles throught he midnight ride of paul revere. It’s alright mostly do to his animated actions like the above seen simulating hi mriding his horse. Not bad but like a lot of Porky jokes it relies on his stutter which wasn’t funny to me as a kid or now as an adult, and comes off pretty inesnitive in hindsight, especially as the stutter was a medical condition of his voice actor that forced him to retire and be replaced by Mel Blanc after “Porky’s Romance”, which we’ll get to.

The other three bits are likewise decent: Kitty, a small cat, nervously makes her way through mary had a little lamb next, whic is fine enough. My faviorite is after here, Ham and Ecks, two puppies performing the title number, which is mostly funny because they sing like normal kidddies.. except after saying the title name with Ecks suddenly going in very low. it’s not bad. 

Finally we have Beans and Oliver Owl. Beans wants to get back at Oliver for not sharing Candy so he puts a dog and cat in his piano. It’s colossal, it’ stupendous.. it’s mediocre! As is the whole short, not bad bits, but only the title track is super memorable. It is easy to see why Porky stuck out the most though with his stutter and neat design. As mentioned it would take warner a few shorts to realize his appeal but once he did he was off to the raises and the next three shorts are all from the very next year. 

2. The Blow Out (1936): Insert Silly Jig Music Here

This one is simple but it works: A mad bomber, what bombs in broad daylight, is setting up time bombs and being hammy. Meanwhile Porky, whose still a kid in this one, wants a big old soda float and only has half the money, but after helping a guy pick up his cane on relflex, starts helping people pick up their items. You can see where this is going and the climax is damn fun as you’d expect from Tex Avery. The runner of Porky doing a silly little dance with a catchy musical sting as he trops the pennies he gets in his pocket is also pretty neat. Not the best he’s done, given I did a whole birthday special last week he’d get much better, but still some fun silly stuff. 

3. Plane Dippy (1936): Spin It! Even better, with a simple premise: Porky joins the army, we get some hyjinks as he does the tests and then he’s assigned to dust a remote plane that Kitty ends up accidently directing when talking to her dog. There’s some really fun screwball stuff here, though the ending is a bit weak, everything else is pretty strong. The pattern for the last three holds: not the best thing i’ve seen from Disney, Warner or MGM, but pretty neat. 

4. Porky In The North Woods (1936): Turtle Paddlin

This one’s a disney style picture as Porky sets up an animal refuge, only for an egotistical hunter to outright ignore his signs and presumed legal right and set up traps then try and kill Porky for daring to. undo his traps.. in an area outright labeled as an animal sanctuary. I’d say just hunt somewhere else but as the modern republican party has proven Stubborn assholes afraid of change won’t just go away or obey the law. The animals return Porky’s kindness by kicking hte guys ass, the best bit being some turtles grabbing some paddles and giving him what for, to the point I screencapped that bit specically.

But other than the Climax it’s just alright, but the hammy villian does help elevate this one. 

5. Porky’s Romance: I made a Huge Mistake

This one was one I picked out I knew wasn’t on Max but curious about Petunia’s first apperance, I added it to the rotation anyway. 

I’m not sugarcoating it because this short dosen’t deserve it: This is the worst of the shorts i’m covering here today. It is pure awful distlend into 7 LONG minutes. 

As some of you may recall, back when I did my first shortravaganza for Donald Ducks birthdy, I reviewed Donald’s Diary, the last Daisy short and one with some pretty cute Donsy stuff but ends with him reconsidering proposal like a jackass because he asasumes marriage will be terrible and she’ll turn abusive and “GASP” make him do chores like a responsible partner. It’s one half a good short, and one half a really bad short. 

You want to see the truly terrible version of that done years earlier, on less of a budget and only satisfying at hte very end? No. Well I didn’t either but that’s what I got. The short starts okay, with a bit introducing Petunia in am eta way. But the short itself after that little meta bit?

The short has Porky lovingly picking out choclates and a ring for Petunia. Petunia in this short.. is a horrible monster who dismisses him out of hand and only lets him court her to get his choclate, her dog barks at him trying to get some, so their all assholes, and she outright laughs at his proposal. 

It’s here where I needed a trigger warning, as Porky tries to kill himself over it. So we have a woman using a prospective partner for finacials and her real intentions driving him to suicide. I.. why would you put this in here. How is this funny? or entertaining? Or anything I want to watch in a looney tune? I don’t want to watch Porky get depressed and try and hang himself. No one wants that and if you do, please get some help. 

He hten has a dream, hence the comparison, of an awful wedded life with Petunia where he does everything, and she GASPS puts on weight.. even though...

He wakes up, finds Petunia likes him now but leaves, takes the choclates and kicks the dog. Haha he’s sitll not a good person. 

As you can tell, this short is throughly miserable. It’s not funny, it’s not tearjerking, it uses sucicide for some reason and takes a dark tone, and is VERY sexist saying “Well women be like this you know” it feels like. It also makes VERY light of domestic abuse, and while that was the style at the time it dosen’t make it any better. Tackling either suicide or domestic abuse is fine, their very important issues.. but don’t put them in your looney tune, for god’s sake. I do not get the tone they were going for but I hate it. I HATE THIS ONE. Do not watch it it bad. Let’s please move on. 

6. Porky’s Garden (1937): It’s A Me! An Itallian Sterotype!

My good friend Emma, whose now one of my patreons, picked this one mostly because it popped up on youtube when she did a youtube search. ironically she herself is itallian and i’m 100% convinced she had no idea what this cartoon contained: Porky versus an itallian sterotype for a county fair prize. Now is this the worst thing Looney Tunes has done? Nope the censored eleven exist, Porky’s Romance exists and Loontics unleashed exists, so i’ts not the worst but it’s still just very cringe inducing that the only joke the guy has is “laugh at the evil foreigners funny accent” It’s not very good, not worht your time, and has weird popeye joke for some reason. 

7. The Case of the Stuttering Pig (1937): The Creampuff in the Third Row This one could’ve been done for Halloween, as Porky deals with a lawyer turned into a monster stalking him and Petunia.. whose possibly his sister here which somehow makes Porky’s romance even worse but given the unviersal adaptor cast of the looney tunes, i’m assuming it wasn’t. That short is horrible enough own without that little chesnut. The short is dripping with atmosphere but on the whole is just okay, though the runner about the villain insulting a guy in row three only for that guy to get even at the end and save the pigs is pretty great not going to lie. 

8. What Price, Porky? (1938): Daffy!

I purposefully chose not to have as little of other looney tunes as possible, in order to make this Porky’s day. As you can tell for the most part that’s been a mistake but even the one with Daffy is just okay, but at least has a creative premise. Porky is a farmer, a surprisingly common theme, and some local ducks are stealing his Chicken’s corn. So while he tries to ask them nicely not to, the general, played by daffy, attacks. Sadly he’s barely in it but we do get some neat gags and it’s far more of a ride than the last few. The ending is bad, the ducks win despite being the antagonists, but still pretty fun. Thankfully we’ll be getting more Daffy in April. 

9. Porky’s Hare Hunt: Halfway To Bugs

As you can tell this day ended up being kind of a disapointment: Porky just isn’t the most intresting leading man and ended up working better as a straight man.  I still genuinely love the character, but it’s clear there was only so much you could do with him in the lead and by the end here, he was either being sidelined so Chuck Jones could do something else like the last one or made the foil to someone goofier often daffy but our last two, and today’s two best, this one being secon dbest, prove whyt hey’ve stuck to that since. 

This one has him hunting a Rabbit whose a bit nuts and utterly delightful, a prottype for bugs.. and for woody woodpecker, whose va he shared, and Screwball Squirreel. THANKS...FOR...THAT... but unlike screwy, this rabbit at least is being hunted, so we get a fun breezy short with some goofy antics and a loveable protgangsit going up against Porky as the antagonist. Good stuff. 

10. Porky in Wackyland: Ending on a High

As I said this ended up being kind of a slog. I wanted to honor Porky by showing his solo career and instead found it dated with a few good shorts.. but only a few really held a candle to the disney stuff going on at the time or the warner stuff to come later like Porky’s Hare Hunt and the Blow Out. Otherwise it’s pretty standard outside of the previous entry.. and there’s only one true masterpiece. This one. Porky in Wackland. 

Porky in Wackland is just Bob Clampett going nuts for 7 minutes and it’s glorious to watch. Porky is hutning for the last Dodo and ends up in the utterly deranged and wonderous wacky land. The only bit that does not work in this entire 7 minute orgy of weirdness is a refrence to the jazz singer with a creature screaming mammy that’s a slight caracture of a black person. I’ve seen much worse but i’ts still eesh. But unlike some shorts, that dosen’t slow it down for long and it’s almost etnirely just fun, utterly batshit stuff and a great chase with the dodo himself at the end and one hell of a warner brothers logo gag. Check this one out, it’s admired for a reason. Tremendous stuff. Should be on max with.. that bit.. edited out. 

So that was a look into Porky’s solo career and yeah, I can see why he’s better as a straight man. I still love the guy though and he has lasted as long as his brothers while others from this time were forgotten> He’s still a good character.. he’s just better paired with Daffy or someone else, part of a team. As a solo act.. he’s just okay but as part of a group.. he’s sensational. 

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