#this was what told me they’d be married someday 😂😂😂

[setsunasknife]

My favorite thing is watching genin Sasusaku act the exact same. They both get so annoyed and team up on Naruto.

[basilone]

Gonna do "security" and "risk" forrrr...your newest OC, whoever that might be!

Ahh, this actually made me pause for a few minutes in contemplation of which OC of mine is the newest. 😂 I had an unnamed-but-developed one in my head for a long time who finally recently got his name, but I also have a named one who's still very much in development. And for the sake of this lovely prompt, we're going with the latter! 💚 Let me introduce you to a post-war take on Gene Roe's life wife...

a few of my favorite things

He is already out like a light by the time she comes to bed. His work boots kicked off somewhere between front door and the little table on which they keep the house keys and incoming bills. His belt and shirt both hanging off the lone inherited chair in the hallway, partially obscuring the chintz that always makes her feel like an imposter in their own home.

They ain’t chintz people – she’s told Gene this a hundred times – but she ain’t going to be able to get rid of it until Gene’s Auntie Mamie dies. Never mind the fact that Auntie Mamie had only come to the house once, under what she’d claimed was great duress from Cousine Rachelle. Auntie Mamie still asks about the chintz chair at Thanksgiving every year, so in the hallway it remains.

Claudia thinks she’ll burn the thing someday. Watch it go up in flames while sitting out on the porch, sunglasses on to shield against the glare, sipping from an ice cold glass of sweet tea. Whenever Gene’s family gets like that – disapproving and expectant all at once – she takes another stab at the turkey and peas on her plate and keeps a burning chintz chair locked firmly in her mind’s eye.

Ain’t a thing a man can do to help where he’s from, though. She’s not about to hold that against him – ain’t Gene’s fault he came home from war and got her for a next-door neighbor, either, now is it? Though it’s one of the darndest things that it’s the French side of his family that keeps kicking up a fuss when she’s French through her daddy, too. She’s sure got that big Saint-Cyr name but not a penny to it. Often the name alone still opens people up, all bright and welcoming, but when they see her – too tan to be white, too many dark curls atop her head and dark eyes beneath her fringe – it’s like the door shuts just as hard in her face again.

He took a risk, marrying her. Loving her. He acts like it don’t mean a thing – like loving her is just something he does, just like he fixes things around the house and like she never wants for fresh flowers in spring. But she’s realized a long time ago that they don’t make another man like Gene Roe. The thought hit her while he was fixing her sink, of all the moments, and he’d laughed at something silly she said without thinking. And then it’d just kept on hitting her, including that one time his temper had flared and he’d made five grown men feel real sorry about some of the smartass comments they’d been making.

Saying oui to Gene has been the easiest decision of her life.

She makes sure to put her house slippers just beside the bedside table Gene’d finally made for her two nights ago. Takes her earrings out as she sinks down onto the mattress. Gene’s yet to stir, but if Claudia’s honest she doesn’t expect him to. He’ll only rise later on in the night, when the moon’s all high and silver, stumbling around in the kitchen sometime around three or four. He’s done that since she’s known him, possibly longer still. There ain’t been a night Gene’s slept clean on through – stirring at the oddest noises in winter, wide awake with every thunderclap in summer – and there’s not a thing she can do about that.

Claudia leans over him. Switches the light off. Plants a kiss on his brow, then on his cheek. She lies as close to him as possible without spooking him into a fright, tips of her toes touching his ankle, hand brushing his upper arm. If she’s lucky, and Claudia knows she’s born lucky, he’ll come back to bed after his midnight stroll and pull her into his arms.

The thought’s enough to still give her butterflies after all this time.