#.... it's really only a matter of time before i start watching Pearl isn't it

[muddyorbsblr]

everybody's watching him…but he's looking at you

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: morning after 'after hours visits'

Summary: Old scars start hurting once again in the wake of your brazen and disrespectful visitor from the night before, and Tom's there to comfort you…on and off the field

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, exit stage left); unprotected p in v sex; morning sex; insecure Reader in the first scene; language; sleazy pervy teammates [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship

Dick-tionary: smut starts at "He moved his large hand" and ends at "nothing but a distant memory"

You and Tom were once again woken up by the blaring of your alarm filling the room, your boyfriend adorably groaning before tightening his arm around you in a near perfect repeat performance of yesterday morning.

"Do you have to be at the briefing room early again today?" he grumbled, his fingertips tracing up and down along your spine. "Draw names again?"

"No…" you sighed, your tone immediately making him tense up.

"Sweetheart?" He tilted your head to look up at him, his sleepy eyes gradually becoming more alert as he met your gaze. He moved your hair away from your face, tucking the stubborn front strands behind your ear. "What's wrong? You look like you haven't slept."

"I couldn't," you blurted out, wincing the second the words came out of your mouth.

"What's wrong?"

There was a lump at your throat so large you could barely choke out the words. You already felt like shit making him worry about you like this, you didn't want to make it worse.

"Please talk to me, my love," he whispered, tracing this thumb along your lower lip before bringing you closer to press a kiss to your forehead. "I won't much help if I'm flying blind. Something's eating at you and--"

"Why aren't you tired of me yet?" The words just flew out of your mouth, your voice tiny and if you were being completely honest with yourself…you were embarrassed that you'd even allowed the question to take over your thoughts to the point of sleeplessness. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have--"

Before you could say anything else, he tightened his arm around you and sat up, positioning you so that you were sitting on his thighs.

"I should have seen it," he whispered, concern filling his eyes as he traced the lines of your face. "That woman's words from last night, they got to you. Affected you in a way neither of us thought of preparing for."

"Sweetie, this isn't on you." You did your best to just wave off the conversation, placing your hands on his shoulders and trying to work at the now tense muscles. "I know we've been through this before, we don't have to do it again, I shouldn't have said any--"

"Stop." He wrapped his hands around your wrists, stopping you from what you were doing. "It doesn't matter if we've had this conversation before, if we have to, then we'll have it again. As many times as you need." He gave a quick tug and your chests were pressed together, his arms snaking around your back and offering you no escape. "I love you." He pressed a kiss to your lips. "Only you. You know that, right?"

"I do, I really do. I just--I didn't realize how bad what happened last night fucked me up until I realized I couldn't close my eyes without reliving…" You took a shaky breath, the memories of the last serious relationship you had before Tom trying to drown you. "Without reliving what happened before. I mean…if I had a nickel every time a would-be homewrecker knocked on my boyfriend's hotel room door dressed in lingerie, I'd have two nickels. And that's just the ones that I know about."

He didn't say anything in return. He just proceeded to press light kisses across your face, holding you tighter against him. "My sweet goddess," he whispered into your skin, sighing when he'd kissed his way to your lips. "No one will ever succeed in luring me away from you. If you only knew how in every moment I have to myself, all I can think about is having you with me again…" He kissed along your collarbone, repeatedly whispering your name and declarations of love with every kiss.

"God why do you even put up with me I can't be that good in bed--" You let out a yelp as he flipped your positions on the bed, your back landing on the mattress with a soft thud.

"You should know by now that nobody gets to talk about the love of my life like that. Even you, sweetheart." He latched his lips onto the spot between your neck and shoulder that had you weak and squirming beneath him. "I've known since before our first night together, before you first kissed me, that I would spend my future loving you. Regardless of how you felt for me. I resigned myself to the fact that part of me was forever yours before you ever let me share your bed."

"Sweetie…" How was it that he somehow always knew how to draw you back from that dangerous ledge your mind often went to? "How are you not sick of handling my stupid little moments yet?"

"Firstly, they're not stupid. I would never belittle your fears like this," he mumbled into your neck, working his arm underneath you to lift your hips off the bed and pull you closer as you writhed underneath him. "And secondly…I quite like handling you." You felt him smirking against your skin at the squeal that hitched at the back of your throat. "Comforting you, loving you, is not and will never be a chore for me."

As he captured your lips in another soft, slow kiss, his words from last year began to echo in the back of your mind all over again. I know you're not ready yet, but I want you to know that I am. I've always been.

The guilt sat heavy in your heart knowing that you knew exactly where he was and where he wanted to go, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to stop looking at your life in complete disbelief. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. It happened before, what was stopping the universe from making it happen again?

"I'm still scared that one day I'm gonna wake up and you've disappeared," you confessed when he pulled away, inwardly wincing at how pathetic the words made you feel. "I haven't been as afraid the last few years but last night…it brought all those fears back to the surface I mean what if I wasn't here when she showed up--"

"Then I would have told her that I'm in a happily committed relationship and I have no need for anyone else. I would have turned her away," he said, answering your unfinished question. He laid you back down flat on the bed, proceeding to kiss his way down your body, stopping when his lips hovered over your heart. "I need you to know that I'm not going anywhere. That I'm yours for as long as I live. You're the last woman I'm going to love."

You inwardly cursed at yourself for still being unable to say the words, the sentiment still refusing to move past the lump in your throat. I'm on the same page with you. I want to be yours for the rest of my life. Can I keep you?

Instead you lifted a shaky hand to weave through his short dark blond curls, finding yourself breathing a touch easier when you heard him sighing in contentment at your touch. "You should know I feel the same way. I'm no good with words but I'm getting there I'm trying I really am--"

"You don't have to say anything right now, sweetheart. When you're ready, and only when you're ready, I will be right here with you. I always will." 

He moved his large hand down the side of your body, curling around your knee to hook your leg around his waist. Your moans began to fill the room when he lowered his head and captured your nipple between his lips, licking and sucking it into a stiff peak. "What're you--"

"What time do you have to start wakeup calls?"

The words threw you in for a loop, your mind stumbling and scrambling to recall your morning schedule. Briefing room by 8, players should be in the field by 7:45, twenty to thirty minutes to run across the hotel and get to the other three players assigned to me…

"7:15," you said between heaving breaths, letting out another moan when he repeated his attentions on your other breast.

"Then we have time…" he mumbled, kissing his way back up to your lips, a devilish grin painted across his devastatingly handsome features. "We'll leave this room together and I'll go to the field, then you can go start the rest of your wakeup calls."

You started to whimper and moan against his lips as he started to roll his hips into yours, already feeling his quickly hardening member rubbing against your entrance. "Wait sweetie I still have to take a shower, change my clothes." Dammit Y/N keep your mouth shut why are you turning down morning sex, you absolute buffoon, you hissed at yourself. "I can't go to the field smelling like sex--"

"We can shower together," he answered back smoothly, stealing another kiss from you before speaking again. "And I packed a change of clothes for you for this exact scenario."

"And what scenario is that?" you asked him breathlessly, a thrill running through your whole body as he stroked your thighs before parting them the slightest bit more and settling his hips between them. Your hand slammed down on the mattress, gripping the sheets when you felt the tip of his length rubbing up and down between your folds, teasing your entrance.

"The one where I want to keep you in bed a little while longer," he rasped, starting to inch his way inside you, letting out a shuddering breath before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "We're not leaving this room until last night's insolent visitor is nothing but a distant memory."

There must have been an angel smiling down on both you and Tom today, seeing as you were assigned to work the field again, even functioning as an assistant cameraperson as a few people from one of the crews set to shoot footage of today's Training Week events fell ill.

You were set to assist in filming the penalty shootout later on in the afternoon, handling a relatively smaller camera that would focus on the players watching rather than the players shooting for the home dressing room. For the morning, however, you were mostly guiding the photographers through the field, ensuring that they were at a safe enough distance so that the chances of them getting hit by a stray ball were significantly slimmer.

"Oi, if you stare a little harder your eyes'll burn a hole through 'er head," Jill's voice broke Tom out of his thoughts, elbowing him lightly when he stole one last glance at you before running into the playing area.

When he finally got to his teammates, his skin brisled at the discovery that they too were staring shamelessly at you, talking about the little mouth-shaped bruises that peppered your neck and chest. It didn't help that he might have added to that count this morning while he was comforting you.

"I mean if she didn't want us to look then she woulda worn something that doesn't show off her tits so much. And those hickeys are practically a red neon arrow going Look over here, gents."

Tom shut his eyes, making a conscious effort to unclench his jaw before facing them, putting on a whole performance as he smiled at them and pretended he didn't want to conveniently forget that he was a gentleman and strike them clean across their cheek. "Lads," he greeted them through gritted teeth masked as a smile. "Shall we proceed with some drills?"

"In a minute, Y/L/N is about to lean down and--No, come on sweet thing, move your hand outta the way!" The loud holler from his teammate had you snapping your head in their direction, and he could see your neck visibly tensing when you saw his teammate with hands cupped over his mouth, not even bothering to seem ashamed of the distasteful remark.

You were called over to a table by the bleachers, and finally the immature lewd comments about you seemed to stop and they all proceeded with drills for a short while. If only his teammates hadn't once again opened their mouths once they paused to take a break.

"You gents think she and her boyfriend would be opposed to a threesome? Too pretty of a thing for just one man to keep to himself."

Another one chimed in. "Downright greedy is what it is. Everyone should have the God given right to see a mouth that sinful stuffed with--"

"You know, I really don't think her boyfriend would appreciate hearing you all talk about her like she's some sentient sex doll," he finally blurted out, fighting the urge to clench his fists as his heart thundered in his chest.

"Pssh come on, I know you have your woman but even you with your A-list standards have to admit that she's a looker."

She is and she's mine, he inwardly seethed. "You can appreciate someone's beauty without being so crass about it."

"Loosen up a little, Thomas. Pretty sure her boyfriend would be proud knowing nearly every man with a pulse here wants a go at that. And it's not like he can even hear us, whoever the lucky bastard is." His teammate sighed as he looked over at that table again, making Tom hold himself back with all his strength as he watched him so brazenly adjust his shorts in front of everyone in the field. "Just one night. Lucky bastard just gotta share for one night."

Your words from last night rang loud and clear in his mind. He refused to let this go on. It was time to make things less private.

"Actually the lucky bastard can hear you all just fine," he announced loud enough for all the horny assholes to snap their heads to look at him. "And I can tell you right now neither of us are open to sharing."

"You know…I didn't see you come back to the room this morning," Simone commented with a teasing tone when she passed by the table you were sat at. "Not to be a bit of a Nosy Nancy but…if your clothes were with us, where'd you--"

"Boyfriend," you answered simply, smiling at the memory of this morning's shower with Tom in his room. And the numerous, extensive kisses you shared before parting ways for the morning. "Apparently he kept an outfit change for me in his luggage. Contingencies."

"Nice boyfriend," Joelah commented, plopping down on the seat next to you and jutting her chin toward the laptop in front of you. "Whatchu workin' on?" Before you could answer, she placed a hand on your shoulder, making you face her as she silently counted the marks on your neck and chest. "Fuckin' A you weren't kidding about your boyfriend thinkin' he's a vampire do you have more…"

"I do," you answered with a little chuckle, giving them a casual shrug. "The ones from earlier haven't even started showing yet--"

"What?!" Joelah and Simone all but shrieked, eyes wide and jaws on the ground as the former waved Douglas over. "Please tell me you know something about who the mystery man is, we still have three guesses."

The player shrugged in response. "All I know is that Jill knows and she refuses to share with the class. Just said something about if we paid enough attention we woulda figured it out by now because, and I quote, it's 'damn near impossible to miss the smitten on that man'."

"Honestly you guys Jill just basically dropped a name and asked me point blank if we were a thing," you offered, giving them a tiny smile. "So I said yes." You turned your gaze back to Joelah. "As for your earlier question, I'm doing security penetration testing on the auction site for the match-worn jerseys. Trying to make sure no one can just insert their bid without actually putting in the money and all that."

You turned back to the laptop to go through a few more test cases before sending over a checklist of some more advanced attacks for the development team to test out, as you wouldn't have enough time in the day to spare in this consult for those. From the corner of your eye you saw Joelah lean back in her chair, facing the England team.

"Ungh Don't talk about penetrating right now, babes, it's making me think things" she groaned, the frustration in her tone so potent you could practically hear her pout. "Unholy things. For a certain Player Number 6 with that obscenely tight jersey and that arse I mean just fuck me running look at the sheer power in those moves."

Without looking up from your computer you darted your eyes toward the field to sneak a fleeting glance at Tom, the stupidly tight shirt you masterminded him into stretched so tight across his back muscles you could see the definition even from this far, and his stance putting his ass and thighs on borderline sluttish display. You had to purse your lips and bite back your words before you voiced a similar sentiment, only yours mentioning that you knew exactly what power those legs held while he took you against the shower wall earlier this morning.

"Ohh Christ on a bike was I too loud?"

"I don't think so," you answered her, typing away your findings and starting on your final test. "Why what's up?"

"He's looking at the table, I'm no better than those horny asshats making crude comments at you I feel like a right knob--Wait…hold on…" She pointed at herself and you heard a faint "Me?" coming from her before she started patting your shoulder to call your attention. "Never mind he's not looking at me I think he wants to talk to you."

That was enough to make you look up completely from what you were doing, meeting your boyfriend's gaze from ten yards away. You gave him a tiny smile, raising your eyebrow in a playful questioning look. He raised his hand and gave you a little wave, prompting you to do the same.

He then started to mouth a message to you that had your breath catching in your throat with a borderline inhuman sound. I. Love. You.

"Wait hold on--?!" Simone shrieked from the side. You could hear that she and Joelah had clasped their hands together like best friends in a high school hallway, watching one of their own getting a Promposal.

"What?" you mouthed back, barely able to hold back the smile that was pulling at your mouth. What he did next had you breaking out into a full on toothy grin, joyful tears prickling at the back of your eyes.

He cupped his hands over his mouth and hollered his message again. "I said I love you, Y/N!"

You felt the air leave your lungs, unable to hold back your joy as you saw that heartbreakingly handsome face beaming at you. With cupped hands over your own mouth, you hollered back at him, "I love you, too!"

A hand clasped around yours, and Joelah looked at you with wide excited eyes. "He's--??"

"He's the boyfriend," you confirmed with a vigorous nod of your head. The other women looked at you jaws slack and silently prompting you to give up some more details. "Going on seven years."

"So he did all…" Douglas motioned at all the marks on your chest. "That??"

"And the ones that haven't started showing yet," you shot back with a cheeky wink.

"Ohh my lordy me I just realized," Joelah gasped. "Keeping things low key?! You already told us before and we were just being so fucking dense about it! You were so slick with that!" You only gave her a little shrug, giving yet another confirmation, before she jutted her chin again to point at something behind you. "Your man's coming over."

You took a breath before turning to see Tom breaking into a light jog making his way to you, immediately reaching for your hands when he got close enough. "Hello, sweetheart," he said with a heaving breath, the exhilaration radiating off him in waves as he moved his hands up your arms until he got to your shoulders. "You looked so tense, I needed to check on you." Once your shoulders relaxed he wrapped an arm around your waist, grasping your chin with his free hand, coaxing you to unclench your jaw. "Are you alright, goddess?"

"I am now," you sighed contentedly, feeling the tension steadily leaving your body with each passing second. "Thank you for checking on me."

He leaned in, brushing his nose against yours. "I'm here for you, my love. Always," he said softly, framing your face in his hands. "But now that I'm here, perhaps I could…steal just a little kiss?" He looked at you with those pleading eyes that never failed to get you weak in the knees.

"You know I can't say no to you…especially when you ask so nicely." You barely had time to take in a breath before he braced his hand behind your back, tilting his head to close the remaining inches of distance between you and press his lips to yours.

The faint sound of the ladies next to you clapping and squealing surrounded you, made louder when he splayed his hands at your upper back and your hip before dipping you. He smiled against your lips when you let out a muted squeal of your own.

Jill's voice broke through your moment, remind you both exactly where you were. "Alright adorable as you two are, get your arse back out on that field, Hiddleston. You can kiss your girlfriend all you want after today's training."

You giggled from your position, holding on to his shoulders as your upper back rested perfectly comfortably on his thigh, as he pulled away with numerous soft pecks to your lips. "I love you," he whispered against your lips, pressing one more kiss before righting both your stances.

"I love you, too," you said back, unable to wipe the smile off your face as he jogged toward the field. Once you turned to face the rest of the women at the table, the sound of a frustrated shriek and stomping on cement hit your ears. Followed by a distant 'It's not fair!!' that had you all laughing amongst yourselves before Jill called out to Douglas to get back on the field as well.

Later that night you knocked on Tom's hotel room door, a look of slight concern on your boyfriend's face as he eyed the bag in your hand before a smile graced his features, realizing why you had your luggage with you.

"My roommates kicked me out," you said, making a whole show of sticking out your bottom lip in a little pout. "Something about it being pointless to keep my things there if I don't sleep there anyways." You tried to bite back the smile as he stepped toward you, running his hand down your arm until he took the handle of your overnight bag from you. "You don't happen to have a place for me to crash, would you?"

Your giggles filled the hall as he wrapped his other arm around your waist, your feet leaving the ground as he brought you into the room, kicking the door shut. "I only have the one bed," he answered you, his voice raspy as your bag hit the floor with a soft thud. "You'd have to adhere to a few rules, however."

"And what exactly are these rules?" you shot back, failing to stifle your whimper when he laid you down on the bed, smirking down at you as he worked his hands under your shirt.

"First…no clothing." He made quick work to pull your shirt over your head before pressing his lips to your now bared stomach, sucking and biting another bruise onto your skin while he unclasped your bra. "And second…you'll have to sleep in my arms at all times." He kissed his way up your body until his lips ghosted over yours. "Do we have a deal, goddess?"

You closed the last bit of distance between you, pressing your lips to his before answering him. "Always."

A/N: Meow meow protecting his bb is precious and must be protected at all costs. Everyone working the event finally knows and that means we're on to…game day! I might be giving these two a little break though to work on other series and also…the rest of my requests that've been there since 500 followers and we're already here at [information redacted] so…I'm hella late 🤣🤣

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemis @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

[amitiel-truth]

Ten Babies Part 2 (Vash the Stampede x Reader)

Note: This is my SECOND time writing here, please don't look too much into the details, I made some up, these ideas were prompted from my chat with Vash at Character.AI, lore dump will probably be here (doing the josei format up this bitch).

Warning: ⚠️Smut⚠️

Summary: Was it really a one night stand, Mr. Stampede?

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

stiring awake, Vash sits up from the softest bed he ever laid on as e looked around, the room he resides in looks more luxurious than the one he was given, but it's personalized, trinkets strewn about tables and nightstands, with it's own personal desk with what seem like important documents.

Vash notices that his naked, with an 'eep' he began dressing himself up from the clothes he discarded the night before, looking around for his red coat, but concludes it to be gone, and noticed someone humming.

Walking over to the window, it turned out to be a veranda over-looking the city, and noticed (Y/N), looking at the city, wearing his coat.

"Ms.(Y/N)-" Vash abruptly stopped himself as (Y/N), she's completely naked and only wearing his red coat, making him blush.

"Good Morning, Mr. Stampede." (Y/N) greeted, smiling at the blonde before turning back to the city, Vash realizes that the Mansion isn't on a hill, but on a cliff, overlooking the city that's located on a meteor crater.

"Welcome...to Febrari."

Febrari, a hidden city in Noman's Land that not many know, it's residents are decedents of SEED Ship 14 after 'The Great Fall', the ship specializes in agriculture and has been developing plant matter after departure from Earth.

Head Scientist, Agriculture, Biochemist, and Engineer, Erich Hem Loverose, did try to make contact with the other SEED ships, but an encounter deterred him, using the geological location that SEED ship 14 fell onto, natural walls that surround the area, SEED ship 14 went zero contact for the last century.

"I haven't been completely honest with you, Mr. Stampede." (Y/N) confessed, turning to look at him.

"My name's (Y/N), (Y/N) Loverose." she reveals, smiling at him, her hands in his coat pockets.

"It's quite alright." Vash sweat drops, laughing nervously, suddenly remembering what she said before she fell asleep

"Give me Ten Babies..."

'I don't even know if PLANT DNA is compatible with Human DNA.' Vash thought, turning to the woman who's looking at her city fondly.

"About-" Before he could even start, a knock resided on the door.

"Ms.(Y/N)! Mr. George Jr. from the Water Distribution Sector wishes to speak with you." Aileen said through the door, as (Y/N) shouted that she'll get ready.

"We have only just woken up and I already have a meeting." (Y/N) mutters, a hand on her forehead as she pulled Vash through her room and onto the door.

"Let's talk again later, Mr. Stampede." (Y/N) teases as she removed his coat and placed it over her shoulder, rendering her completely naked, flustering the male before being pushed out of the room.

"There's running water in your bathroom, feel free to get ready!" (Y/N) yells over the door before fading away, Vash still blushing hard from what just happened, then shakes out of his stupor as he processes what he said.

"Running water..." Vash mutters before rushing to his room and heading to the bathroom, turning on the tap, and watching water falling through it.

"Woah..." Vash mutters as he runs his hand through it.

"Just what is this place..."

____

(Y/N) talks with a young man on her porch under the shade of her home, wearing a white sleeveless dress with an accordion piece and plain piece that shapes her figure, dangling fake pearls on her ears, and a golden stars necklace wrapped around her neck, 'laughing' along with the man.

While out of earshot, Vash peeks through a window, looking at the scene before him.

"Who's that?."

"George Shepard Jr., son of the Water Distribution Department Head of Febrari, also one of the most eligible bachelors around here." Aileen informed Vash, jumping in surprise as he turned to look at the woman.

"Water Distribution? I haven't heard of that term before? In fact, it's so scarce to get as much as a drop here in Noman's Land." Vash replies, surprise that there's such a thing as departments for it.

"We're lucky enough to have landed with our ship fully intact, in fact, we haven't had a singled deceased PLANT for the past century." Aileen reveals, surprising Vash even more.

"Not a single one?! In this place? how is that even possible?!" Vash asks, still in shock.

"Because of the Loverose's" Aileen reveals, turning to look at something, turns out they're in the living room, with a mural of the first generation of the Loverose's hung above the fireplace.

"They took care of everything for us, especially Mr. Hem, with his knowledge and guidance, he built a system and developed plants for food that would survive the harsh climate of this planet, it is still under progress but under our current condition, they still work." Aileen informs him, staring at the Mural of a family with a Man in his mid-thirties wearing glasses with (y/hc) slick-back hair with serious eyes, holding a little boy in his arms and a young woman who looks exactly like (Y/N) but with blue eyes and blonde hair(A/N: sorry if you're blonde and have blue eyes), holding an umbrella made out of metal, smiling at the camera with her arm over the man's shoulder.

"and all of that knowledge is passed down to (Y/N), a very sought-after bachelorette, coming from wealth and status." all their attention turned to the woman who continued discussing matters with the young woman.

"I understand you still think that you're a fling, but know this, I watch Ms. (Y/N) grow up from a newborn into the young woman you see today, and not once have I seen her act with this kind of behavior towards a man, if you're uncomfortable at the situation, leave if you like, it's alright to not reciprocate her feelings." Aileen advises as she turns to go to the kitchen.

"Are you sure? I don't want to leave a woman with a broken heart!"

"She's a strong woman, she can take anything you throw at her and she'll stand back up, she'll be fine...unless, your feeling something else, Mr. Stampede?." Aileen pokes as Vash blushes, turning to look back at the two on the porch as (Y/N) turns her body 'bashfully', something inside Vash stirs as he continued to watch the two.

"One night stand my ass."

____

After breakfast, (Y/N) invites Vash to see the city.

"I'm needed to see the progress of our other plants like cabbages and such." (Y/N) informs him, walking out of the mansion holding a very long umbrella.

"What's a cabbage?." Vash asks following her as they approached two Thomas Handlers.

"Your about to find out." (Y/N) chuckles as she opens the umbrella as they get under the three suns, a Handler approached her, handing her usual bird and riding it, placing the umbrella at the custom holder, protecting her from the heat.

"Let's get going." (Y/N) nods her head to the other bird, as Vash blushes and goes to the Handler who gave him the reins and rides it.

"Let's go!" (Y/N) squeals as she snapped the reins, making the Thomas, run with Vash panicking and running after her.

The two Handlers could only look at each other blankly.

"Ms. (Y/N)! Slow down!" Vash yells, matching the Lady's speed who continued laughing.

"Come on! I'll race you there!" (Y/N) challenges as she snaps the reins once again, showing a path as they race through it.

Vash hears (Y/N) laugh once again, turning to look at her he observes as she squeals, her hair gliding through the air as she looks so carefree. Vash turns away, blushing.

Reaching the town entrance, Vash won the race, and they come to a stop.

"Ah! You won! Guess I need to get you something for getting first place." (Y/N) stated, softly shaping the reins on her Thomas as they start to walk as Vash rushes to follow her.

"You don't need to get me anything, really!" Vash insisted, already heavily in debt to the woman.

"It's alright, really, Aileen already ask me to get some things from this store anyways." (Y/N) persist as they continued on their journey, noticing people calling out to her, smiling up to her as she smiles back, waving at them, making Vash pull up his hood to avoid being recognizable.

"You do know your red coat itself gives you away, right?" (Y/N) points out, smiling at the PLANT.

"Maybe they'll think I'm someone imitating me?." Vash tries to defend himself.

"Now who would be able to imitate your handsome self?." (Y/N) flirts making the man hide further into his hood, blushing.

"We're here." (Y/N) stops, and an unfamiliar smell wafts through the air, it smells homely and something fresh from the oven.

"Wait right here." (Y/N) orders as she got down with her umbrella, and walks into the store filled with bread and pastries Vash had never seen before, watching her converse with a few people around her area before walking back to him with bags on her arms.

"I bet you haven't had these for a long while." she guesses, holding up a bag of a certain baked pastry.

"Doughnuts...." He mutters, taking the bag before digging in.

"I'm glad you like it" (Y/N) laughs as she walks back to her Thomas, places back her umbrella, and mounts the bird, continuing on their leisure phase, eating their own pastries.

While stuffing his face, Vash looks around, noticing how peaceful the place is, occasionally there's someone greeting (Y/N).

"You're really well known in this town."

"Well, I did grow up here and came from a very prominent family, would be pretty hard to not be known." (Y/N) replies, waving among the people.

"But how come I haven't seen your parents?." Vash pokes, as she stiffens, keeping her face facing forward

"Oh...uh, they died a few years back, peacefully, might I add." She confirms, keeping herself facing forward.

"Oh, I-I'm sorry for prying-"

"No! It's quite alright, it happened a long time ago anyway." She remarks, but still kept her composure and still faced forward.

silence enveloped the two, occasionally greeting anyone who greets (Y/N) first, before reaching their destination, the area is set up with hundreds of greenhouses.

"Ms. Loverose, welcome to the Farming Sector." a young man greets, taking (Y/N)'s hand and kissing the back of it, right in front of Vash, who glares at the action.

"Oh, Jaime, still sweet as ever." (Y/N) 'swoons'.

"And who might this be?." He asks, turning to the red-hooded man, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, I'm-"

"He's my guard for the day." (Y/N) cuts him off, unmounting the bird with her umbrella with Vash following after.

"Shall I also accompany you inside as well Ms.-"

"It's quite alright, we can look around ourselves." She cuts him off walking to the plastic tarps.

"Understood" Jaimie grumbles as he glares at the blonde who can't help but smile.

(Y/N) mentions to follow her through the tarp and walks in, with Vash cautiously approaching the plastic, before walking in.

Cold air greeted the man, looking around in wonder at the nostalgic temperature, then noticing the leafy green bulbs before him, all in line planted to the ground.

(Y/N) smiles as she looks around, wiping the back of her hand on her dress as she looks around proudly.

"Back on earth, there used to be different climate zones around the globe, and each of them has the perfect temperature for plants, but it's hard to grow anything here on Noman's Land with the three suns and all, and the best that we could do is to mimic their climate and modify the plants to adapt to the planet's soil, though they are mixed with soil back from earth, but atleast they worked" She explains as she knelt down to one cabbage, her umbrella providing shade as she stroked one of them, glistening with water.

"It's not much, but at least it's enough to sustain us." (Y/N) smiles as Vash knelt down beside her, staring in wonder.

"Can you really eat it?." Vash leans down to take a bite as (Y/N) covers his mouth, chuckling at her.

"You need to cook it first before eating it! Unless you want a weird tingling sensation in your mouth" She laughs as she hugs her umbrella handle closer to her, bringing it between her legs, giggling uncontrollably as Vash backs away flustered, embarrassed as (Y/N) remembered something.

"There was a belief about planting back on Earth, when you sing to a plant they'll grow healthy and bountiful. Do you think that'll work here?." (Y/N), asks as she leans closer to the plant and clears her throat.

"Can we just be honest?" (Y/N) starts as Vash watches in amusement.

"These are the requirements If you think you can be my one and only true love You must promise to love me" (Y/N) continues as she closes her eyes, not noticing Vash's PLANT marks are showing, as he began to panic.

"And damn it, if you fuck me over I will rip your fuckin' face apart" Vash was so distraught that his PLANT markings instantly disappeared.

(Y/N) stops, opening her eyes as she looks at Vash sheepishly.

"I don't think plants would like to grow up to that, sorry, just thought of that off the top of my head." she apologizes and stands up, walking to the middle of the field, spinning her umbrella as Vash follows after her.

"Speaking of Love, have you over been in a relationship before?." Vash asks as she looks up thinking.

"I've had a few boyfriends before, but they were never serious, It's just a way to rebel at my parents back then, besides they could never handle me being too much of a woman." (Y/N) smiles in thought.

"Is that so? then what about those guys who's been all around you lately? are they also your past boyfriends?."

"Oh no! No no no! I don't even get near them as a child for how snobbish they acted, they do their jobs perfectly but don't have the right head on their shoulders in treating the common folk." (Y/N) denies, holding up a hand her lips in a tight frown.

"Althouuuuuuugh...If it's okay for them to have 10 children, I don't see why not." (Y/N) blushes, a hand on her cheek, swooning, as Vash watches her. thoughts running through his mind, the thought of her having children with another man...stirs something inside of him.

Vash suddenly pushed (Y/N) behind some tall cabbages, her umbrella flying up in the air, her white dress getting dirty in the process.

"Vash! What are you-" (Y/N) cuts herself off when Vash suddenly pins her to the ground, stunning the girl.

Her umbrella falls beside them facing the entrance, effectively hiding the two, they continue to stare at each other, as Vash slowly leans down to the girl, initiating a kiss, as (Y/N) got out of her stupor and followed him after, holding onto the back of his coat.

Vash hiked up her dress, revealing a pair of red lace panties, biting his lip at the sight as he pushed the lower side of it to the side, slipping one of his fingers in.

(Y/N) gasps as she held onto Vash tighter, biting his neck through his turtle neck, Vash quicken his pace and slid another finger in, prompting the girl to roll her eyes in pleasure, realizing she already cum.

wordlessly, Vash lifted his finger covered in (Y/N)'s slick, making sure she was watching as he sucked on his fingers, making her moan as she bit into her thumb.

After Vash finished cleaning his fingers, he proceeded with pulling down his pants, his cock slapping onto his stomach upon release as (Y/N) watches in anticipation.

lining it up, he looks back at (Y/N) for confirmation, who wrapped her legs around his waist and pulls him in, both moaning in synch at the sudden intrusion, Vash slowly started thrusting his hips onto her, grounding himself onto her as (Y/N) pulled him to her gasp and moan directly onto his ear, egging the PLANT more as he increases his speed.

The girl went crossed-eyed as she held onto Vash tighter, and with a last few thrusts, he spurts his seed inside of her, making sure to ground himself to her as he bit her neck, forcing (Y/N) to follow after, mixing along with his.

The two pants as Vash lifted himself from her shoulder, being face to face with her, as (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Vash's neck and pull him down, pulling him into a rough and passionate kiss, her fingers running through his hair as Vash hugged her tightly.

"Ms. Loverose! Are you there?." The man from before, Jaimie, call out as they both sat up, thankfully being fully hidden by the girl's large umbrella.

"Micheal from the Waste Department wants to talk to you, about the production of fertilizer for the Farming Sector." Jaimie added as they two hurriedly fixed themselves up, brushing away dirt that had gotten onto their skin and hair but (Y/N) her ruined dress and bite mark on her neck.

"Did something happen there? do you need help?." Jaimie asks, getting closer as the umbrella shuffles and two figures burst out from behind.

"WE'RE FINE! COMPLETELY FINE!" (Y/N) confirms, laughing nervously with Vash behind her.

"I just...fell onto the dirt and Vash helped me get back up!"

"Then why are you wearing his coat?." Jaimie points out, as it's true, (Y/N) is wearing Vash's red coat which almost swallows her.

"My dress got dirty and Vash lend me his coat so I won't look like a mess." she smiles nervously, with Vash nodding alongside her, holding her umbrella, as Jaimie observes the two.

"Well, either way, Micheal does still want to talk to you..." Jaimie continues as he leads them back to the entrance.

Vash observes (Y/N) and noticed that there was a wobble on her step, she kept her legs close as much as possible and pulled the collar around her neck, Vash smiles in triumph

____

Chapter 1 basically:

video choreography by @chokem3choso and video format by @thefinalwitness from TikTok

[iheartchv]

Hi, I was wondering If I could get a cod matchup?

Im Ecuadorian-American. I’m an INFP, and I speak English, Spanish, and French. I’m also starting to learn Mandarin Chinese.

I’m 5’8, with dark brown hair that almost looks black, and brown eyes.

I have a HUGE extended family, but they don’t live in the US. Im from New York.

Personality-wise, I’m very shy and quiet, being selective of who I make my friends. Once I do though, I become very close to them. I’ve been described as a hidden treasure, like a pearl one might even say.

I am a bit of a nerd, (I even wear glasses, but they’re not too strong), I love playing COD (if you couldn’t already tell,) and Magic: The Gathering. I also like to draw, but have a mini panic attack when I see the prices of sketchbooks and charcoal pencils.

My music taste can only be described with “emotional whiplash,” because I love songs that sound very happy but have super dark lyrics. Aside from that, I love pop, Latin and Afro pop, EDM and RNB 

My love language is mostly gifts and quality time. If I’m really close to someone, it’s physical touch. In public, I’ll do something discretely, like holding somebody by their pinky. If it’s hidden, like under a table. I’ll be a little more daring, like putting my hand on their thigh.

Hope you have a good day! Take care of yourself, and sorry if this is a lot to take in!

//i tried to finish this before going to work; wifi at work sucks big time >3>

🤔 I'll match you with...

König 👑

I think you'd be paired with König

Scenario time:

Let's say you're in the military (your choice of what field/what you specialize in)

König and some of his Kortac comrades came by to talk with Captain Price

Kortac was thinking of borrowing some of TF 141 for a mission

König walked around the base, looking for those he saw fit; you were one of those soldiers/specialists

That's when he met you

And when his eyes met yours, for some reason, he felt something wash over him.. it was strange

🤍

At first it might seem like nothing is happening between you two, what with you both keeping to yourselves

Until he sees you with a sketchbook and a pencil

He sees it move across the page, his interest piqued

I headcanon that König is a creative person

I mean, look at his gear

It isn't military grade but it does and serves its purpose

So he'll come up to you, trying to gather what he needs to push himself to get to talk to you

"What are you doing?"

Despite him being a big man, you didn't hear him behind you

You jumped, your heart pounding from surprise

"Oh, did I frighten you?" He playfully said, although he was masking that he wanted to apologize for scaring you

"N-no..."

Silence for a second

"Just... practicing some shadows and shading..."

There is a landscape on the page

He's amazed at the skill you have though he's trying to be subtle about his interest in you

"That is... very good"

🤍

You two would make a cute couple

During briefings or meetings, I can see you touching him under the table

And König would try not to be flustered

Under his mask you'd know he was blushing

Your eyes sparkle with mischief

His eyes would look at you, tell you that you would be getting it when the meeting or briefing is over

One of König's love languages is gift giving

If he sees something that reminds him of you, he'll get it for you

Or he will make something for you

Quality time is another one of his love languages

Being alone with you is all he'd ever want

It don't matter if he watches you draw or play a game, you both do something together or not, he'll just enjoy being around you

Hugs and cuddles from this giant teddy bear 🧸

Forehead kisses, on top of your head, open mouthed kisses everywhere

He'd sigh

"I adore you, liebling"

His hands would run through your hair, trace over your facial features as if he was memorizing you, burning every single detail into his memory

Who would've thought there would've been someone so gentle underneath his tough exterior?

❤

[djservo]

sending this to you early before i forget (and i will forget), april is OVER. the year really starts zooming past march it's scary! april reads, were there many of them? what did you think? other media interests also what's the spring/summer reading vibe?

april summary

you could probably tell by my lack of goodreads updates but my ass was NOT reading this month omg. 2 books but Barely since the first I started in February and the latter and I only just finished on the 30th WAHHH it's been stupid busy and stressful at work these past few weeks to the point where my free time could only consist of simply hanging out and watching movies/survivor and other thoughtless little things like that 4 my own sanity. in hindsight, absolutely not the best time to take up two meaty theory/cultural criticism books smh!! I was too ambitious, and while I could've just called it quits and picked up a more manageable/digestable read, I thought I'd be able to brave it out eventually... meanwhile my pdf of Man's Rage For Chaos sits abandoned + bookmarked at a measly 50 pages in amongst dozens of survivor screenshots LOL Sigh! it may just have to be another DNF because I don't think I have it in me to absorb another 300+ page long pdf just yet (it was a feat getting thru Little Boy: The Arts of Japan's Exploding Subculture at times)

but OK, onward!

Comfort Me with Apples: More Adventures at the Table by Ruth Reichl — a juicy romantic drama masquerading as just another foodie book. I would've been perfectly satisfied if it'd been the latter (I really loved Tender at the Bone) but when I TELL U I was gasping and clutching my pearls every other chapter, scandalized at every corner!! the book follows her foray into the world of being a food critic, during which she finds herself in two different affairs while married to her longtime husband/companion (who is revealed to have also been cheating on her at the time rip). Somehow she managed not to make herself come off as a victim, so clearheaded and honest with her actions and mistakes, but part of you also can't help but root for her a little -- to flourish in her career, to grow a backbone, to come to the harsh realization that sometimes people just grow apart no matter how much history there is. So much wisdom and heartbreak!!! And, as she was about 30 during this period, my favorite reminder that the intrigue and possibility of Life(tm) isn't nearly over after your mid 20's--it's hardly even begun at all. and then of course all the food descriptions, glorious and sensual as always. Tampopo (1985) instantly came to mind: food + sex + woman's quest for the Meaning of it all, you simply gotta love it

Theatre of the Oppressed by Augusto Boal — I don't think I can add anything substantial to this even if I tried LOL I'll say I'm always tickled by any critiques and callouts of western civilization, and his connection of US presidents defending "reactionary imperialist interests" regardless of "character" (or political party) = the enactment of terror that's natural when it comes to the succession (hah) of oppressive forces... floored babes!! tell it like it is!! ok I lied, one more point -- a lot of this book discusses this radical methodology of theatre that involves the audience, allows them to interact, adjust, implement meanings as a means of revolution and there's this big brained review I read on goodreads that connected it to TWITCH STREAMS of all things, specifically gamers who allow the chat to vote on/make the decisions while the gamer performs these choices. I feel like there's so much Meat there... an analysis of the interactive nature of the internet/contemporary popular media and its influence on the way we perceive free will... anyway.

I started a saucy short story collection that'll hopefully keep me titillated, and I think I'll also treat myself to a fun graphic novel moment after my failed lil scholarly attempts hehe movie-wise I got sucked into this awful franchise The Brotherhood by David Decoteau which is basically college fratboys/hunks who have to fight some killer and/or mystical force of evil in the most homoerotic way possible (the filmic equivalent to trashy little convenience store pulpy softcore erotica methinks).... 6 full films of regurgitated storylines and gratuitous shower scenes and I must admit I had a blast !!! it morphed into a sorority-slasher theme, which then morphed into a broader theme of Tormented Women(tm). It's been a loose goal of mine to keep my letterboxd watchlist number lower than the amount of films I've logged for the sake of staying manageable/realistic, but there's now a scarily small difference of 5 films between the two 😢 so i think I'll try to stick to my watchlist as best I can this month 🫡 and ofc watching survivor as always, nothin new there yeah yeah I'm predictable

[dream-meister-translations]

CROW - VOICE COLLECTION

━

"Okay, we're all set! Let's get going!"

"Haha, you know, I'm starting to take you for granted."

"Which country will we venture to next?"

"All right, let's have some fun!"

"How 'bout we grab a bite to eat somewhere?"

"I wonder what kind of people we'll run into."

"Oh, you're preparing an expedition? Better be sure you're making the right choice. You never know what might happen."

"Well, the harder the work, the better the reward! Come on, cheer up, and let's do our best!"

"I'm soooo happy to see you! I can't wait to see the world like I've never seen it before! Where do you wanna go first?"

"First aid… Survival kit… Wait, you don't have a map? Oh, well I'll just follow my gut."

"We're both Moon Wanderers, so you can count on me for anything, okay? I'm here."

"I'm counting on you today. No matter how tough it gets. Together, we can overcome anything."

"Leave it to me."

"This is exciting! Let the adventure begin!"

"Let's keep it moving, full speed ahead!"

"Three in a row!"

"I won't miss!"

"Watch me!"

"I got this one! Concentrated fire! Kaboom!"

"I can still fight…!"

"Who the Hell's gonna stop us!?"

"Damn, look at this treasure! We did it!"

"We're not done yet!"

"I hope you'll keep relying on me."

"The journey has only just begun! Let's have even more from here on out!"

"I truly believe you and I can do anything together. We'll be fine no matter what comes our way. I promise!"

"Hey, I've been thinking… I'm happy that you're with us. It's nice having you around like this."

"Home… Huh? Oh, no, it's nothing. I just mean our home. The Moon Wanderers home…"

"Hm? You woke me up. That's okay. I'll be right here next to you so why don't you get some rest?"

"We'll stay together. Whatever the treasure. Whatever the adventure. I want to share it with you from here on."

"The stars are beautiful… I wonder what they'll look like tomorrow."

"Full speed ahead!"

"Okay, partner, we're all set! Think you can keep up?"

"It's nice going out casually like this every once in a while, huh? Let's have fun today!"

"That was fun! We should go out again like this!"

"You know that super-popular cake shop? They sell out of cheesecake all the time! Well, would you believe I just got the last piece before they sold out!"

"Have I had any luck lately? Uh… Oh! I was weating shellfish the other day and found pearls in it! They were huge! And beautiful!"

"Did you know I almost got swallowed whole by a monster once? But he was soooo big I was able to squeeze my way through the gap in it's teeth!"

"I feel extraordinarily lucky these days…"

"I'm so glad I found you! That's all there is to it!"

"Hey! It's nice to meet you again as Meister and Guild Keeper!"

"You wanna know what tools I keep handy? Well, it depends on the day, but as an adventurer, I always have a rope and knife on me!"

"Oh, aren't you a sight for sore eyes! I know the price is outrageous but those bandages work wonders!"

"Oh, that? That's the stone I picked up at the ruins we were… Just… Ex... Ploring… Shit! I forgot to give it to Lannes!"

"Do you really wanna know what's in my bag that badly? N-No, there's nothing weird in there! Just… Be careful, okay?"

"It's just some knives and gunpowder… It's dangerous, and I didn't want you getting hurt by accident…"

"If you're that interested, I'll have to teach you how to use them one day."

"If you wanna know what I do, I'll take you with me next time. The best way to learn is to get your hands dirty."

"Hmm… There's a lot of responsibility resting on your shoulders… Deciding everything we do. Haha, isn't that what YOU said?"

"Oh, for me, it's all about having fun! The harder it is, the more excited I get!"

"…Oh! It's important to remember: One of the best things about being alone is being free to do anything you want!"

"But if you have someone you can count on… Well… You can do way more things and achieve even greater results!"

"So… A few tips from me: Find a group of people you can trust. That's what I'm tryna do here."

"Hm~? What's up? Oh, you're worried about me? Well then, do whatever you need."

"Oh, a staring content, is it? Okay, then let's see who looks away first! You think I'm gonna lose~?

"…Whoa! You scared me! I didn't know you were that close!"

"All right! What do you wanna do today? We can go wherever you wanna go!"

"I… Don't think we'll get separated, but… Hm… Hold my hand just in case."

"Oh, it's time to go… Is it too soon to ask when you're next free?"

"I guess that's it for today. I wish we could have hung out a little more. But I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Huh? What the Hell…? Oh, you wanna spoil me? Well, I guess I'll just have to do it, too, won't I?"

"Your hair's grown so long… How long have we been out searching like this? It's getting harder to cut."

"You enjoy touching my hair? I don't mind at all. It kinda tickles."

"Oh, uhh… Sorry… I'm just a little sleepy…"

"Your hands are so soft, so gentle… Feels so good… I wanna do this all the time."

"Y'know, I miss you… It's irresistable… Almost like I'm choking without you… Can I ask you to stay for just one more minute…?"

"I mean… It's not THAT bad… I can endure it… I just need… To… Ahahahaha! Okay I can't do it after all! Hahahaha!"

"God, you really caught me by surprise there! I thought I was gonna die laughing!"

"Hmm? Are you… Are you trying to tickle me? You look like you're trying to tickle me. Wait. Wait. Wait. No, no, no, no!"

"If you still wanna tickle me, I'll have to tickle you, too. I'm gonna make you laugh so hard, so forgive me, okay?"

"Hm? You're such a hard worker. I was just admiring the way your hands move. They're so nice~"

"I was just thinking: You're hands are so cute. It's like… I want to protect them."

"Hahahaha! The Hell? You touch my hands all the time! Do they really feel that good?"

"Actually… I'm the same way… I love feeling the warmth of your palm…"

"Our hands are so different… I have mine and you have yours, but even still... We've got each other's backs."

"I mean? What can I say? Having you stare at me like this makes me feel a little uncomfortable."

"I like to think I'm pretty close to people, but you're on a whole other level."

"I always thought you were cute. But up close? You're beautiful… Your eyes, your skin.. So beautiful…"

"Hey, what's up? Something on your mind?"

"Hey, I was just thinking about you… I think you're the best partner I've ever had… I'm glad you feel the same way."

"Celebrating with you was always more than enough for me. But now this…? Thank you so much… It's the best thing anyone's ever done for me."

"Haha, I'm glad you like me so much, but I can't take this… I... Thank you…"

"Oh, I love it~ Thanks, Emma!"

"Hmm? You're giving this to me? Well, then I gratefully accept!"

"Huh? Hm~… Instead of giving this to me, maybe you should give it to someone who needs it?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I know you're excited, but calm down!"

"I want to thank you for all you've done for me… I don't mean that in a burnt-out kind of way… I just wanted you to know that I'm always grateful. So, here, take it."

"Wow, it's my favorite! You really know how to make me smile!"

"Oh, thank you! I'll have to get you something, too!"

"Are you sure this is addressed to me? I see… Well, thank you. It makes me happy."

"Haha! Hey, stop it, stop it! If you keep doing that I'm gonna lose control!"

"Hm! I knew it! You really are the best partner of all time!"

"Thanks for for this. I'll take good care of it."

"Hahaha, I'd just be happy receiving anything from you!!"

"Let's just leave it there for now. We'll pick up where we left off once we get back, okay?"

"I wanted to give you this to... Express my thanks for the past and the future."

━

CROW : Hey, Evan, have a great day, man. I'm counting on you to be there for me when I need you! EVAN : Don't talk to me like that. You think I'm gonna take care of you? Are you listening to me?

━

CROW : Hey, Itsuki, where do you want to go explore next? There's a place I really wanna visit! Let's go! ITSUKI : We just got back yesterday. Fufu, that's so like you… Well, let's get on with the next moon reading!

━

CROW : Hey, Itsuki, let's do this again today! ITSUKI : Just like always.

━

CROW : Nice assist, Itsuki! ITSUKI : I'm used to supporting you.

━

CROW : Gran~? You gotta move faster than that! They only sell a hundred cheesecakes a day! We gotta get there before they sell out! GRANDFLAIR : Oh my… Oh no… It's time like this I realize you're still just a boy, Crow…

━

CROW : Let's do it, Evan! EVAN : Don't tell me what to do!

━

CROW : Yeah! That's it! That's what I'm talkin' about, Evan! EVAN : Hmph. Don't be such a fool.

[jvstheworld]

My Ted Lasso Re-watch: S2E1 (part 2)

Goodbye Earl

Ted thinking that the team's tie streak his karmic justice because of the end of last season. Or it could be that the team is missing something... A certain Prince Prick of All Pricks?.... Just saying.

Nate is really starting to get harsh with Will. It was a simple request to celebrate his mum's birthday and Nate acts like it's the worst thing ever. And it's only going to get worse. And Beard can tell that something isn't right.

Nate getting phrases wrong, pearl instead of diamond and then wonder kid instead of wunderkind.

Ted shouting yes to Beard calling Nate unlucky after their discussion of the word gives me life.

Ted is a Diane Sawyer fan. (I don't know who she is. I need to watch more films).

How does Ted come up with his Tedisms? Or how do the writers for the show come up with them? How do you fan fiction writers do it too? Also by the way, you Ted Lasso fanfic writers are awesome, I love reading your works, mostly the Ted related ones, because if I haven't made it clear, I love Ted. And the way some of you write him and how sweet he is and certain fixations on certain body parts (not being rude, I'm talking hands, chest and stomach) is just wonderful. May you continue to find inspiration.

Barkingham Palace is a great name for a dog's shelter, and I'd go there any day over Buckingham Palace. (I am not a fan of the Monarchy, which if my ex-RAF service man father hears about he will not be impressed).

To Earl, he was a good boy.

Empire Strikes Back - basically season 2 of this show. How would you explain the Luke and Leia thing when they are brother and sister? You can't hide that, it's on the Internet so kids will know about it before they watch the film, so how do you handle that conversation to first time viewers with questions?

Ted wanting in on girl talk. It's basically the same principle as the Diamond Dogs. Which he and Roy talk about later in the season.

Ted being a country music fan makes sense since he's a Midwestern boy. And who doesn't love Dolly Parton? But if it's an obvious and out there alias, doesn't that defeat the point of having one in the first place?

Roy's new coaching gig - 8 year old girls football team. He's great with kids and he doesn't hide who he is with them which makes them like him even more. Roy is just Roy all the time no matter who he is with.

Ms Bowen knows.

Roy likes hot chocolate. Good man.

Unlce Roy is proud of Phoebe's red card, because that's what he would do too.

We love Roy's feral look. Shame he had to get rid of it.

I want to see the full version of Roy's retirement press conference. I just need to.

Roy says fuck 5 times, shit 4 times and twat once, in his rant about being a football pundit.

Holy shit Roy! £1236, that is quite the tab. I wonder if that number is going to pop up again later? Wonder what Phoebe would spend that money on.

Dani's nightmare, poor guy. Though with a blood splatter like that he could be in an episode of Supernatural, or in a horror film, or The Boys.

The two women in Dani's bed are his girlfriends because he is in a throuple, as seen at the end of season 3. Hey, if they are happy then fair play to them.

Red hat to Planned Parenthood anything is bordering on yikes territory. Though as long as it doesn't have a certain phrases on it, you should be fine.

Ted wishing he was Keeley. In what way?

He wants in on girl talk, then why not? He's got the right enthusiasm for it. Like when he shouts 'Stamos' and talks about John's last name and then does his announcer voice. He's trying, bless him.

Sir. Theodore. How dare you look like that while looking at Rebecca! Don't be all fucking cute and adorable with your cute smile and head in your hand and listening skills.

Ted being late to practice because he was helping Rebecca pick nail polish colours. That is peak friendship right there. And he's so proud of wearing it too. And he would have had to wait for it to dry fully before going to training.

Dani's problem is a tragedy. Beard you undersold it, my guy.

Even Sam is done with Jan Maas.

Beard is always there to help Ted, even with Tom Cruise's hair styles in different films. Which Ted graciously accepts the correction. Unlike someone people *cough*nate*cough*.

Ted's sneakers are coordinated with his training gear. Just felt the need to point that out.

Okay, why would you stand in front of the guy who is struggling to kick the ball in the right direction? And not behind him? Because that ball hitting Ted's butt had to really hurt. Poor Ted butt. Get an ice pack of that. Does he need help rubbing it better? I swear I will stop one day. Though the friend I sometimes refer to in these posts told me I should include my thirst for Ted in these and I have. But this thing I have for a guy who is 21 years older than me is not going away anytime soon apparently. Damn my attraction to older men, and this one specifically. But it's fun to annoy my friend with it.

[whatsabriard]

Watch With Me: Hart to Hart 2x08

Original Airdate: January 20, 1981

Synopsis: When Max's long-dead ex-wife suddenly reappears, kidnapping and a hot diamond necklace are not far behind.

Why this one?: We all make choices in our lives. We all have many different reasons for those choices. My reason for this choice is that I want to watch Jonathan seduce his wife while she tries to talk on the phone. I want that right now, and this is the episode that will give it to me. We are who we are.

Favorite Quote:

Jennifer: Oh, darling, we haven't even seen all the fish in the aquarium. Couldn't you be a little late? Jonathan: You mean just for the halibut? Jennifer: I'll pretend I didn't hear that.

this episode wakes with the Harts in bed, so you know it's going to be great.

there's a noise downstairs, possibly a burglar.

Jonathan keeps a gun in his bedside table.

that's probably because, even though the Hart Estate is supposed to be the Ultimate in security, everyone and their brother breaks into it. always. all the time.

look how cute they are in their lil jammies as if they don't always end up nakey every night. a nod to the 80's sensibilities.

it's just max, dressed like the guy on the fish stick box. He's gonna go fishing and then he plains to cook and eat the fish he catches. weird.

these two lazy humans and their lazy dog just gonna do crosswords in the bed together all day on sunday.

until they run out of newspapers and have to find another way to amuse themselves. behold.

this scene is everything to me because Jonathan is just gonna suck on whatever he can reach and jennifer is all about it.

anyway, since Max isn't there to interrupt his ex-wife does it instead. how annoying.

I do like Max's ex-wife though. She's spicy.

Her name is Pearl.

Pearl was before Jonathan's time, so they're really enjoying getting to know her.

"Do you remember your ex-wife, Pearl?" no jonathan. only you forget your wife.

anyway according to Max, Pearl has been dead for years.

she wanted people to believe she was dead because she was involved in some stuff. and of course, she's still involved in some stuff.

pearl manages to get herself an invitation to stay with them because Jennifer is a TERRIFIC LADY.

Jonathan worries that Max might get his heart broken by his ex.

the bad guys think that pearl is going to try to sell a stolen necklace to the Harts. but they want the necklace.

pearl and max cook together but immediately start fighting.

"Jonathan..." We can't get involved. But they go in to check anyway and find a little surprise.

Pearl hides the necklace in the house, which is definitely not going to backfire on them.

J&J meet at Marineland for a picnic (as you do???) and they're drinking wine out of glass glasses because they're bougie.

Max gets himself kidnapped because the bad guys want Pearl's necklace. Pearl gets away. Sort of.

The baddies call and want the necklace in exchange for Max but Pearl is in a coma and they have no idea where she hid the necklace.

They tear up the house looking for it.

Stanley gets info on the necklace and J&J show up to get it. Jennifer looks immaculate. Jonathan is half-dressed.

they don't have a lot of time to find the necklace so Jonathan gets the bright idea to have a fake made by Seymour. but Seymour says he can't do it, no matter how much money jonathan throws at him.

These are not words Jonathan understands.

insert ANOTHER rando suddenly pulls out a gun on them.

during the fight, jennifer does the greatest thing.

when the gun is knocked loose, she grabs a trashcan lid and puts it over the gun. Then she STANDS on the trashcan lid. girl really.

the rando is an insurance guy who has been chasing the necklace since it was stolen.

they're talking about how insurance guy ate all their food, and they have a lightbulb moment.

pearl hid the necklace in the fish. EW GROSS NOW IT STINKS PROBABLY.

for someone who has been tied up for days inside an antique shop, Max just keeps getting dirtier and dirtier.

but I guess he got a shower before the meet?

color coordinating dummies again.

how. how do they look at each other like that.

[cirque-dhomosexual]

OK but does anyone else think Katya could be a lesbian with severe comphet? I think this is a great way to read her character (projection reasons honestly) especially because it's really heart wrenching knowing her as a character and her ending. I know her thing with Andrey was super intense but at the same time look at the main players in her life especially the men. Like, her whole thing is being pushed into this role without really wanting it so she's obviously gonna be chasing what she thinks is normalcy.

With Goncharov, she met and married him after an extremely traumatizing event in her life so obviously she's going to love him. Then they grow distant, right? And that's when she starts to lean more towards Andrey but remember Andrey was the one who went to her first. If you look at her when he first started talking to her, she brushes her pearls which is her nervous tick. People say she was taken aback, which she was, sure, but she only ever touches and plays with the pearls on her neck when she's in distress. You may say she's actually nervous to cheat on Goncharov but keep in mind the fact she was close to Andrey too and they technically grew up together no? Correct me if I'm wrong, I haven't watched the movie in a while, but they would've been in the same space all the time so she would've known if he liked her because that her thing, she knows how to play people and men in particular. Andrey isnt exactly subtle either so he wouldve made his attraction very clear to her. Even if he didnt, Katya wouldve picked up on it regardless. After he starts to flirt and shit she practically throws herself at him for his attention which she isn't getting from Goncharov yet she still isn't happy. She keeps telling herself maybe she messed up, she regrets it because she loves Gonchar yes but also because what if she isn't feeling what she thought she was supposed to.

Then enter Sofia. This girl comes in, shes the only one that genuinely makes her smile, she's the one that teaches her she can break away from the shackles of society she herself is fully aware she's bound by. Their cigarette scene is supposed to parallel Andrey/Goncharov's scene except this time it's Goncharov who pulls her out. I think that cigarette scene out on the balcony was significant textually because it establishes the tension between Katya and Sofia but subtextual too because both scenes are about intimacy, blurred lines between platonic and sexual attraction, and more importantly self-destruction and freedom. The cigarette is destroying them and their one true desire is helping them do it. Following that, Katya is bound by society, love, and custom to Goncharov. The fact he calls her out of the tender moment is symbolism for how she is kept from her truest desire, Sofia, and all by a man. She is also the physical manifestation of Katya's self-acceptance. I've said it before but I think it's notable to point out that when Katya chooses to "die" its in large part to Sof. Sofia is her everything honestly she represents so much to Katya as a character. When she offers Kat the apple she isn't just trying to seduce her and tempt her into lust, she is offering up knowledge. The knowledge of the fact she's sapphic sure, but what if it was deeper than that? What if it was that reason she would never fully fit in to her role is because no matter how hard she tries, it's an act. She cannot attain what she wants to be or wants to have. That's why after the apple scene you can tell Kat starts to plan out her escape because she starts gets colder.

[shadeswift99]

Something about the way Pearl kept an eye on Sausage while he was corrupted just Gets me. She didn't accuse him, she didn't excuse him, she was the only ally he hadn't pushed away with his bloodlust who was also the only ally he had who was unconnected to Xornoth... She was willing to leave him be, for the most part. She just wanted him in sight, for his own good. In sight, occupied with a task that might distract him from all the dark things threatening to choke his mind, and networking with the other rulers again with her there to keep the peace and show them he could be safe still, in the right circumstances. She wasn't overly optimistic about his goodness, or overly critical of his sickness. She was just a farmer queen with some time on her hands and a good enough sword arm to not be afraid, and, well, she had always been a person to help out where she could. It's not good to be alone, when you're in that kind of trouble. Even if the company is just watchful eyes and busy hands, it helps to have a thing outside of yourself. I love the quiet, practical wisdom in that. It's so Pearl.

[sunshine-in-a-bottle]

I think someone should give c!Dream new eggs to protect. I think this would fix him

(I have given him new eggs. They are called hermits and they will love him very much.)

.

.

.

Pearl wanders through the woods of this server, another place to build, another game to play, and its beautiful out. Light dapples the trees as she wanders and wonders what this world will become when they are done with it. Explosions, traps, delight in the hunt when the hunt truly starts, and when its over Scott will smile at her. They are still friends. They are all still friends.

The woods grow darker as Pearl slips deeper into their shadows, leaves hiding away the light. She thinks idly of the monsters the hide there, but they are irrelevant in her search for the borders of their arena. If she is hit it will not be the end of the world. This is only game, after all, and while she wants to win, its pointless to succeed if she never gets to enjoy herself.

She finds the border. Of course she does. The barrier is solid red against the green of the forest. It warns her not to get too close, but she presses her palm against it and watches the light ripple from her touch.

She looks away from it for only a moment, and nearly flinches back at the figure sitting on the other side.

"Oh! Sorry about that. Didn't realize this place wasn't empty."

This is not a player she recognizes, but he must be a player, because he is green. Green as life itself, his cloak tattered and dirty but still so bright. His hair looks a bit matted, like he didn't have the energy to wash it, but its swept back enough that the green of existence is in his iris.

He blinks at her. He does not try to get up from where he sits, half concealed in the underbrush. Instead his nose scrunches in confusion. Its incredibly endearing.

"Now how'd you get all the way over there?" She teases. She remembers the broken barrier from another session, so really, it isn't surprising at all that this would happen again. The green life opens his mouth, but he doesn't speak. A forked tongue flicks out, once, twice, before he closes his mouth and lets a hint of fang peek out.

"You're a snake hybrid, then? Very cool," she tells him, because it is. When he tilts his head at her, she taps her skull and grins. "I'm something of a celestial body myself, you know how it is."

Well, he probably doesn't, but he slowly begins to uncoil from his spot on the forest floor, lifting himself up with a strange grace she's never seen before. It might be a snake thing, or a him thing. Its quite neat, either way.

"I know its probably tempting to try and hide over there the entire game, like a little secret base, but I think Grian would call it improper conduct. Not very fun, yeah?" Pearl makes note to scold Grian for not telling people when he brought in new players. It was quite like him to only give them half the info. "Since you probably don't know very many people your first time around, you can stick by me. I won my last game, so you're getting a bit of an advantage here."

And yeah, maybe its a little cheeky, but his mouth quirks up in a soft smile. "... I suppose I am."

His voice is rough, low and careful. He shuffles a bit closer, enough for the light to hit silver scars as they spiderwebbed across his face. Something must have hit the poor guy in the face outside of the games, but no matter. Pearl was here to protect him now, and she would do a very good job.

"Have you met anyone here yet? I'm Pearl, by the way, it's nice to meet you!"

She extends her hand. On the other side of the barrier, he hesitates before reaching through to shake it. The red gives way to him like his hand is emerging from a lake. (Rippling, Rippling, what's that old story of the lady of the lake-?)

"I'm Dream," He says, and she steps back to pull him through. The name is familiar, but most of the names here were familiar before they were friends.

"Very nice. I think we'll have a good time. I don't know all the rules this time around, but I'm sure someone else will." His eyes were red rimmed, she noted with alarm, but he didn't seem like he was going to cry. Just wary and puzzled, towering over her but not intimidating. Just a man. A tall, sad, snake man.

(Is that what she looked like when Scott left her last game? A green life shouldn't look so withdrawn.)

"... well, what do you know?" Dream asks. She doesn't let go, pulling him along back the way she came.

'Scott will like this one,' she thinks to herself as she explains the rules. He's ever so polite, never interrupting for a moment. Its calming, and while she might already be gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss again with Cleo and Scott, she would be willing to find a new name for them all when she brought him into their little group.

[heavensenthearty]

I read the post you reblogged about Zutara and colonization and about what happens in your country and wanted to let you know I am sorry you are treated that way in your country. You deserve running water, electricity, steady supply of necessities, etc. People have no right to judge you.

TW // Starvation, torture, slavery, death, child death, genocide, graphic depictions of violence, blood, rape

*inhales deeply*

*exhales*

First of all, anon, I want you to know (ironic as it is) that this post isn't directed to you. You're wonderful, and I appreciate you and your message. I'm just tired.

Tired of privileged people telling others in third-world countries how we should feel about certain stuff, how we should act, what we should think, how much more than us they know about our own countries and languages tweeting from their fancy phones with their comfy Wi-Fi in their houses with actual furniture. And don't even give me that crap about minimum wage because everything is better than this:

This is Venezuela. This is what I see when I go out in my city only for people on the internet to tell me I'm an imperialism apologist.

What are their basis again?

Oh, that's right, I ship prince and a "peasant" in a fictional story.

Everybody is so obsessed with oppression these days, huh? Well, I've have had it with their pearl-clutching takes. Let me show them how oppression really looks like, but before we start, I just want to say I'm sorry you have to see this...

So, like I said before, according to anti Zutaras in the ATLA fandom, I deserve everything that I said about being provided with 6 hours of electricity per day, dirty water and rotten food just because I ship Zutara.

Well, lo and behold. Isn't that implying that my neighbors that don't even watch ATLA and their 7-yo children whose ribs I can discern beneath their clothes and from the other side of the street due to their malnourishment also deserve it?

Or the families that have died because they had to eat frogs they hunted themselves because that's how starved they were?

Or these kids that have to "work" finding things with value in dumpsters just to earn something to eat?

Or the people that only gets three (3) hours of electricity a day? Or the ones that haven't have electricity period (or water for that matter) ever since 2016?

The babies that have died because of the heat?

(Guys, Venezuela has an average climate of 92°, thermic sensation 104°.) (We can suffer heat strokes while inside our houses with no energy to supply temperature conditioning equipment.)

Or that the people that has been tortured in prison like this girl deserve it?

That she deserves it? ⬇️

I live... fucking here... and I ship Zutara.

THIS. IS. SO. RIDICULOUS!!

For real?! People are calling me a racist?! An imperialist?! A colonizer?! SAYING THAT I FUCKING LIKE BEING OPPRESSED WHEN I COME FROM THE COUNTRY WHERE EVERY GIRL THAT WENT TO PROTEST IN 2016 WAS RAPED AND THE MEN WERE KILLED IN PRISON?!

EVERY. SINGLE. TIME THEY SAY THAT I'M REMINDED THERE'S A PRETTY GOOD CHANCE I STILL GET RAPED IN HERE AND LATIN AMERICA OVERALL BECAUSE EVERY COUNTRY IN THIS SIDE OF THE CONTINENT IS DEAD-SET IN RAPING VENEZUELAN WOMEN!! THERE'S A PRETTY GOOD CHANCE ONE DAY THE ELECTRIC SYSTEM IN THIS MANHOLE OF A COUNTRY GOES DOWN FOR GOOD!! THERE'S A PRETTY GOOD CHANCE OUR ENTIRE NATURAL LIFE ENDS UP LIKE THIS!! ⬇️

SO MOTHERFUCKING WHAT IF SHIPPING TWO CHARACTERS MAKES ME FORGET ME AND ALL MY FAMILY COULD END UP DEAD TOMORROW AND NOBODY WOULD CARE?!

I know Twitter doesn't gives a shit about minorities or POCs and I'm on my right to be angry at the fact the only thing they do care is putting themselves on pedestals for dictating what's wrong and what's right! Oh, look the guy hailing Fidel Castro, Che Guevara and Carl Marx (altogether) is gonna preach us! According to their ideals, it is worth to receive water like this in exchange of not paying taxes! ⬇️

And I know I'm going to receive "backlash" (if it can even be called that way for this that I'm saying. Go ahead, let them send all the laughing memes that they want. With this, everybody will know they are laughing of all that blood, all those corpses.

I know I didn't write this to be tragic or worthy of enough sympathy; I told you, I'm just tired. I felt like it was time to let people know how life is for fans in my same situation.

Have you ever listened to the song Flares by The Script?

"Did you find it hard to breathe? Did you cry so much that you could barely see? In the darkness all alone, and no one cares. There's no one there."

This is how I feel all the time. I'm sorry I can't keep my emotions bottled up enough to stand with my arms crossed while ATLA Twitter goes off.

I don't regret what I wrote in here, tho. Sorry, not sorry.

[aelin-queen-of-terrasen]

𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐎𝐧𝐞

full masterlist - fic masterlist

Rowan glanced at his pocket watch and attempted to swallow his irritation.

How was it only nine-o-clock still? He had already suffered through enough social niceties to last a lifetime.

Now, he listened with but half a mind to his cousin drone on about the night's guests. His head was filled with all the tasks he needed to see to, including searching for a new governess for his sons. His boys kept chasing away every woman he employed and he was hesitant to hire a tutor, because he believed they needed a woman's influence too, now that his own wife was too ill. The physician had done all he could but there was not much hope she would wake, loathe as he was to admit it. Perhaps he should have accepted his mother-in-law's offer and send the boys to their her after all?

"--and Arobynn's here too—"

That caught his attention. "He is?"

"Mhmm. Look, over there, no, no, to the left—besides the pretty redhead, yes, just so."

A man stood by the entrance with a red-haired woman on his arm, tall and muscular, with a fine-boned face. His auburn hair were pulled back into a bun, offsetting his pale skin and the fine cut of his suit was a stark reminder of his prominent position in society, despite the whole stigma around tradesmen.

"I knew he was fond of flaunting convention but escorting his mistress to a ball?"

"You haven't heard?" James approached them with a drink in his hand. "She is not his mistress but an adoptive daughter of sorts and his apparent heir."

Fenrys choked on his drink.

"He named a girl heir to his trade empire—and not even his own blood—stupid!"

"Spoken like a man," said the gentleman and shook his head. "He raised her himself, is introducing her to all his associates and she doesn't look dumb either."

James nodded towards the redhead he had seen earlier, dressed in the finest black silk with a neckline low enough, it bordered on scandalous. Her copperish-red hair were pinned into an elegant coiffure with pretty, gold hair combs and a simple, pearl necklace completed the striking picture she made. Her sharp, defined features were barely beautiful until she laughed—a musical sound in itself—and he wondered whether he had seen anyone prettier.

"If hers was the last face I ever saw, I'd die a happy man." Fenrys sighed and walked off.

James rolled his eyes. "He's about to seek an introduction to her, isn't he?"

Rowan's lips twitched up.

He had always liked James. The man was completely without artifice and his enthusiasm for everything was so infectious, no one could remain angry with him. He had spent a few summers with the Galathynius children, until their youngest daughter was abducted and the visits stopped.

"I say you must frown a little less, sir, unless you wish to give offense."

Rowan looked up, startled at being addressed by the object of his thoughts. She looks even lovelier up close, thought he.

"I detest these events."

"So do half the people in this room and yet, appearances must be maintained."

"Deceit is not in my nature."

The lady frowned. "It is not deceitful to pretend you are interested in an event in order to spare your host's feelings."

"Your motive may be charitable but it is no excuse for dishonesty."

The lady looked amused but did not pursue the topic further. "I hope you will forgive me for speaking without a proper introduction, sir. I am not a fan of convention."

Rowan smiled.

An unmarried woman, not even of age, and already a heiress to a trade empire—by all accounts, she did not seem like one.

"I will, if you allow me to remedy the situation now." He bowed with exaggerated formality. "I am Mr. Rowan Whitethorn of Harcomb, in Doranelle."

Her cheek dimpled. "Miss Celaena Sardothein—my father—"

"Mr. Hamel, yes, I know." He almost cringed at how rude he sounded. "He and I, we are—"

"—business associates, yes, I know," she teased with an impish grin, replying in a poor imitation of his own deep voice.

Her eyes twinkled with amusement, filled with laughter and mirth—turquoise orbs, ringed with brilliant gold.

All of his resolve flew out of the window. "Miss Sardothein, will you allow me the pleasure of leading you into the first set? The dancing is about to commence."

"The pleasure will be all mine."

In hopes of starting a conversation, he said, "You are a fine dancer."

"I would have believed you to be a liar if we hadn't already established that deceit of any sort is your abhorrence."

He smiled. "And if I were being insincere?"

"I would take it as a compliment to myself, for it will mean that you are acting on my advice from earlier about lying for the sake of appearances."

They fell silent again.

"We must talk some, you know," said Rowan. "For someone who claims to be concerned with appearances, do you not think it would look odd for us to spend a half hour together but in silence."

She startled at the sudden statement. "Introduce a topic then and I will do my poor best to maintain the conversation."

Rowan complied and was pleasantly surprised to find her lively and good-humored and well-informed on most subject from current fashion disasters to books to political bills and movements. Her arguements were passionate and far from taking offense at his dry humor, she matched it with witty quips of her own; and to top it alll off, she was as skilled a dancer as a conversationalist.

Rowan was almost annoyed when the song came to an end. He could not recall the last time he had been half as well entertained.

"You will be the death of me, you foolish, foolish chit!" screeched the old matron.

Fenrys had allowed himself to be dragged into a bookstore, which happened to be one of his least favourite places, by his cousin, James—the second son to his uncle, Lord Rhoe, the Earl of Narrowcreek—and was now eager for any sort of amusement. He turned towards the high-pitched shriek with interest.

A young lady stood near the shelves, tall and proud, even in the face of her mother's ill-bred manners.

Her blonde hair fell down in waves, half pinned by dragonfly-shaped hair combs. The fabric of her dress was fine enough for her to belong to the first circles and yet, he could not recall seeing her—or her mother—anywhere.

"Ungrateful child! Wait until I tell your father what you did; he will be most displeased."

She bit her lip to contain her mirth, though her cheeks flushed with embarassment. Her eyes flitted to the door and back, as if she was looking for some escape.

"Poor girl," the bookshop owner murmured.

The following words had the unfortunate attention of drawing the mother's attention towards the owner.

Lord Fenrys almost laughed at the alarmed look on the owner's face when she began lamenting to him instead and then looked over at the lady who was staring at the door with a thoughtful look, as if wondering whether or not to attempt an escape.

She must have decided in it's favour because she gathered her skirts and made a mad dash towards the door.

Fenrys realised he was standing in her way and hastened to move but it was too late—

"Darn!" cried she.

The commotion drew her mother's attention and upon spotting her wayward daughter lying on the floor with a grimace, she rushed over with a whole new litany of complaints.

Fenrys could have sworn the lady cursed under her breath.

"Stubborn, stubborn child! I told you not to run off without me but oh, how you love vexing me," shouted her mother in her high-pitched voice. "And what are you doing, bothering this fine gentleman over here? You had better not to talk to anyone if you are determined to refuse them all. You broke that poor man's heart—"

Fenrys quirked an eyebrow in interest, looking thoroughly entertained.

Her cheeks flushed further.

He frowned.

Up close, her face looked awfully familiar. He searched his brain for an answer.

A memory flashed in front of his mind. A highly unconventional black dress, a tinkling laugh and a ballroom.

Realisation dawned.

"Miss Sardothein! Fancy seeing you here," said he. "I almost didn't recognise you because of the hair."

"The hair? Oh, yes, I am very fond of dyes, but you have caught me in my natural state."

"I find you lovelier than ever. If you will forgive me for prying, I could not help but observe you haven't bought a thing yet, even though I know you to be a great reader! Is the reading material not to your taste, Miss Sardothein?"

Celaena answered wryly, "As a matter of fact, the books here suit my tastes very well—It is only that I am not allowed to buy books for a month—as punishment."

"No books! And what awful crime did you commit to merit that?"

"I rejected a marriage offer."

"A capital offense!"

Celaena smiled, "Indeed."

"I hope you are appropriately ashamed of yourself!"

"Horrified at my own audacity, really."

The lady looked up at him and grinned; Fenrys' own face turned pale and his mouth fell open in surprise. Ashryver eyes! She had ashryver eyes—like James, Aedion, and their mothers Helen and Evalin and—gods. The little poem his cousins had made up in childhood came to the forefront of his mind.

"The fairest eyes, from legends old,

Of brightest blue, ringed with gold."

But how...?

He looked at the woman again: her eyes bright and mirthful and thick eyelashes resting on her cheek, the face tugged at his memory; and she smiled so impishly, he had seen that smile before—

"Aelin," he blurted out.

He was startled when her smile dropped and recognition flickered in her eyes.

Fenrys shot an alarmed look towards the shelf behind which James had disappeared. Aelin was here! But how could this be? His heart thumped loudly inside his chest.

"Aelin?" She inclined her head in question.

He smiled uncertainly.

Was she really his little cousin? Aelin had been five year old when he last saw her.

But if he was wrong about this, could this come to bite him in the ass? She was certainly as old as his cousin would have been, had she been alive and she had the same unruly blonde curls and those ashryver eyes, teeming with life.

It couldn't be...

Arobynn's adoptive daughter.

"Yes, Aelin was my favourite cousin—you, uh, you remind me of her."

"If she is your favourite, then I am inclined to take that as a compliment." Celaena—Aelin?—smiled again, though her eyebrows remained drawn still. "The name does sound familiar. Perhaps I would have heard of her in the newspaper? The society column is a great source of amusement to my father. He reads it aloud to us from time to time."

Father? He wondered if she was talking of Arobynn or Mrs. Rhunn's husband.

Fenrys smiled sadly. "That is not possible for you see, my cousin died when she was five."

At least I thought she died.

"I am sorry for your loss." Then, with an arch look on her face, she asked, "If she was like me as you say, she must have been delightful."

He chuckled. "An absolute troublemaker."

"Definitely like me then," said she, sparing a look towards her mother. "I should leave now, before my mother lists you off as yet another suitor!"

And before he could think to stop her, she curtsied and scurried off.

Fenrys stared at the door, somewhat dumbfounded. Aelin is alive. He marvelled at the thought and then wondered how on earth he would inform her family—James would be ecstatic and his father would have to be informed, and Edward would have to be called to London, gods. Edward!

Aelin had been missed by all but no one grieved her as the poor man had.

Edward would be ecstatic; everyone would.

Fenrys ran towards his cousin out of breath, who was still examining titles in one corner.

"Fenrys, god, slow down, man! Whatever happened? You look like you saw a ghost."

He blinked.

Then, without any attempt at tact or discretion, he blurted out: "Aelin is alive."

"Aelin, Aelin, stop that—no, look at your frock, mother will be so angry, no, Aelin! You will hurt yourself like that."

The man watched, concealed behind the ridge as a little girl skipped from one mud puddle to another, blonde curls bouncing up and down as she moved. Her elder brother followed at a more sedate place, calling out admonishments and threats, not that they had an effect on her.

Aelin grinned over her shoulder and ran, leading her brother on a merry chase.

The man was still debating how to go about abducting the girl when fortune smiled upon him; she twisted her leg and fell down, prompting the boy to run towards her.

"It hurts," she whimpered, refusing to stand.

The man smiled maliciously and waited as the boy looked around. "Very well," he said finally. "If you promise not to go anywhere, I will fetch papa. Do not move, Aelin."

The boy rushed towards the manor house, ignoring the twisted knots in his stomach and burst into his father's private study. In his panicked state of mind, it took a few attempts for Rhoe to make sense of his garbled words.

A foreboding feeling rose in his stomach.

She will be fine, he tried to reassure himself. Aelin, troublemaker that she was, had had a lot worse than a twisted ankle.

But his alarm grew the nearer they came to where she was supposed to be and his heart pounded inside his chest. All colour drained from his face when they didn't find Aelin where she was supposed to be.

"Are you certain this is where you left her?"

Edward nodded.

Rhoe suddenly felt dizzy, his knees buckled and bile rose up in his throat.

He reined himself in and with admirable composure, organised search parties to search around the estate and the neighbourhood.

The search carried on until late that night, when an express rider from the nearby magistrate arrived with a letter: a nearby warehouse had burned down earlier that day and two bodies were found: a man in his forties, who could not be identified and a seven year old girl who had on a silver anklet bearing the word fireheart and requested Mr. Galathynius' presence tomorrow at the warehouse to confirm the girl's identity.

Rhoe folded the letter, excused himself from company and sent his sons to their beds.

Then he entered his study: the study no one was allowed to enter without permission—except his Aelin—slumped into the armchair by the fireplace and wept.

note: ...and it's here. I have so many drafts of this chapter lying around, I'm surprised I actually finally posted it lmao.

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[there-must-be-a-lock]

Set  Yourself On Fire

Word Count: ~1550

Warnings: Depression and suicidal thoughts. No, seriously, this is not a happy fic. It centers on Sam and his mental state between seasons three and four, so. Yeah. Demon blood, sad Sam, self-loathing, etc. Some mentions of Sam x Ruby, but the pairing is not the point. 

A/N: For @idreamofplaid​‘s “Thanks For The Memories” Challenge.  My episode was “I Know What You Did Last Summer.” 

I snagged bits from a drabble I wrote called “Might As Well,” which was about this same time in Sam’s life, and worked them into this. 

Thanks to @fangirlxwritesx67​ and @fookinghelljensensthighs​ for read-throughs, and to @stunudo​, @thoughtslikeaminefield​, and @lastactiontricia​, who helped me work through the fine points of the psychology that was going on here. 

Title from the Stars song Your Ex-Lover Is Dead: “When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.”  

The whiskey stings when Sam splashes it over the cut on his arm. It’s a good kind of pain, blindingly sharp and clean, and for a moment it takes his mind off the slimy ache in his chest and the filthy squirming guilt in his gut. 

Dean’s looking at him again, searching and suspicious.

“Why do you trust her so much?” he asks, and Sam doesn’t want to meet his eyes. 

“I told you.” 

“You got to do better than that. Hey, I’m not trying to pick a fight here. I mean, I really want to understand. But I need to know more. I mean, I deserve to know more.” 

He does. Dean deserves that and so much better. 

Sam tilts the bottle again, watching the booze wash away the blood as it burns him clean, and he takes a sip, as if that’ll do the same thing to the ugly wound in his chest. There isn’t enough whiskey in the world to sanitize his insides. 

He knows he can’t tell the whole truth, but Dean deserves to know more. The question is, where does he start? 

He could start with the moment the dirt closed over the grave. Sam, Bobby had said, so quietly. Sam, don’t. And it was funny, how much Sam had always wanted that; he always wanted a father figure who would ask him to stay. I can’t, he told Bobby, and he lurched away, staggered to the car, started driving.

He can’t tell Dean about the days that followed, because he doesn’t remember much of them. Two, three, maybe four days slipped away while he hid in a shitty motel, drinking, and the memories that remain are disjointed flashes in his mind: the ugly floral duvet under his cheek as he collapsed face-first into the bed, the cold white bathroom tiles and the bruises they left on his knees, a ceiling fan distorted through salt-swollen eyes as he watched it spinning lazily overhead, the taste of bile, the blood on his knuckles, the broken shard of mirror that he picked up and turned over in his hands for longer than he’ll ever admit. 

No. He can’t start there.

“She saved my life,” he says hoarsely, and Dean waits while Sam tries to find the words. 

He still hears John, sometimes: Why are you crying? Be strong. Be brave. Get over yourself. Other people got it a lot worse, y’know. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. 

He’s gotten better at ignoring John’s voice, over the years, but it’s harder to ignore his memories of Dean. Dean blinking back tears, forcing a smile. It’s going to be okay, Sammy. I’m fine, Sammy, don’t worry about me. He’s always wanted to be like his big brother, and his big brother wouldn’t let himself wallow the way Sam had. His big brother would’ve found a way to fight back. 

The crossroads demon had been his only real hope. 

Just take me. It’s a fair trade. 

The worst part was, that no didn’t really surprise him. Of course his life wasn’t worth the same as Dean’s. Of course it wasn’t enough, he wasn’t enough, to save his brother the way Dean had saved him. 

Sam wasn’t sure who he was without Dean, without a mission, without anything to hold onto. 

He’d gotten in the car and started driving. He thought about heading West, out to the cliffs and curves of Highway One; the guardrail was so flimsy, and the Pacific would be steely-grey and welcoming. He thought about heading East, all the way to Maine; the shoreline was rocky and rough, and the crabs would find his body. He could go to Florida, drive into a swamp, let the muck swallow him slowly. He could go to the Dakotas, drive out into the desert, park there and wait, and the vultures would descend eventually. He wondered if anyone would notice that he was gone. 

He can’t tell Dean that.  

So he doesn’t tell Dean about the directionless days. He starts with the day Ruby found him. 

He doesn’t tell Dean about the relief he felt, when he thought Ruby was going to kill him. He doesn’t tell Dean about the cold crush of disappointment in his chest when she stabbed the demon instead. 

He tells Dean about her new body, “100% socially conscious.” He tells Dean about the plan to find Lilith: “I wanted to go right away.” 

Sam had asked, What do you want from me? 

A little patience. And sobriety. 

Sobriety made it harder to sleep, and insomnia made it even harder to remember what was real. He didn’t feel real. He felt like a faded, dull husk of a person, a sunbleached copy of a photograph instead of a breathing human with a heartbeat. Ruby told him to use his strength, but he didn’t have anything left. 

Sam didn’t much care if he died, and some days he wasn’t even sure he was still alive. 

He can’t tell Dean that. 

He sees the way Dean looks at him sometimes. He sees the exhaustion in Dean’s eyes, the worry flickering behind that, and Sam doesn’t want to add to the weight on his big brother’s shoulders. 

Ruby said, Just give it time, Sam. It'll get better. I'm not talking about pulling demons. I know losing Dean was…

I don't want to talk about it. 

The anger tasted ashy in his mouth. It burned, but in a purifying way, like a forest fire clearing the land for new growth. The anger helped him focus. He balled his hands into fists, imagined punching her, imagined that pretty face swollen and bleeding. 

He doesn’t tell Dean about that. 

You know what? Where do you get off slapping me with that greeting-card, time-heals crap? What the hell do you know? I used to be human. And I still remember what it feels like to lose someone. I'm sorry.

He almost did punch her, at that. 

When she kissed him, it was Dean’s voice in the back of his head saying, this is wrong. He shoved her away. 

“I knew it was wrong,” Sam confesses, and he can’t meet Dean’s eyes. “But…” 

He didn’t care, in the moment. It was his brother’s opinion that had always mattered; he always wanted to make Dean proud. But Dean was dead, and Sam had been drifting for so long, and Ruby’s skin was warm and soft and real under his hands.

It was more like a battle than a kiss. It was teeth and claws, ripping each other apart, but every bite and every scratch felt like a reminder that Sam was still alive. 

“Sam?” Dean snaps. “Too much information.” And there it is, there’s the disgust Sam knew was coming. Dean’s lip curls and Sam feels like a child again, clumsy and stupid next to his strong, steady anchor of a big brother. 

The half-truth sits uncomfortably in his throat, and Sam has to work to get it past his lips: “I’m coming clean.” 

There’s something monstrous inside him, something warped and wrong. There’s always been something wrong with him. 

He thinks of the vial in his pocket, the burst of copper on his tongue like a mushroom cloud, the silent dare in Ruby’s big dark eyes and the way she sighs when he slices her open. It burns a little hotter every time he drinks, and he must be charred and black inside by now. 

He hasn’t felt clean for a long time. 

That’s the thing about fire, though; it cleanses, purifies, and maybe he’ll burn up hot enough to take Lilith with him someday. Self-immolation seems inevitable, at this point. His life doesn’t mean much, but maybe his death will. 

“Pretty soon after that,” Sam says, “I put together some signs. Omens. Lilith was in town, and I wanted to strike her first.” Ruby had looked so goddamn concerned, when she realized, and Sam had hated her for it. You don’t want to survive this. This isn't what Dean would've wanted. This isn't what he died for.

“She came after me,” Sam says. “She saved me.” 

He hesitates. 

He doesn’t tell Dean about the blood. 

Sam remembers the night after that failed attack. He remembers watching Ruby cut herself for the first time: his stomach roiling and his skin crawling, the blood welling up and beading into shiny pearls of red. He imagined it sliding down his throat and staining his guts that same dark crimson. 

He doesn’t tell Dean about the way it sizzled on his lips, crackled and sparked inside him, lit him up in a whole new way. He doesn’t tell Dean about the next demon, the way the black oily smoke poured out all at once, faster than he’d ever seen it leave a human before, and the way his veins sang with the power. 

He doesn’t tell Dean about the too-hot shower afterward, when the fizz was long gone and he scrubbed himself raw trying to get rid of the itch that it left behind. 

He didn’t like the way he felt with Ruby, but at least he felt something again. 

“If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be here,” he tells Dean quietly. 

He doesn’t ask, Do you regret dying for me? Was I worth it? 

He’s not sure he could live with the answer. 

.

.

.

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[charmers-kpop]

✨♦🍎🍷

{ Basics }

• Birth Name // Nerissa Bhirombhakdi

↪ Greek: 'Sea nymph'. Nerissa was also a character in Shakespeare's play, 'The Merchant of Venice'.

• Stage Name // Neri

↪'Neri-unnie', 'Dragon Unnie', 'Team Too Posh', 'Thailand's Ticking Time Bomb'

• Birth Date // 4:35 AM, February 4th, 1995

↪ Aquarius, the Water Bearer

• Birth Place // Chai Nat province, Thailand

• Heritage // 100% Thai

{ Career }

• Profession // Rapper, singer, producer

• Band/Group // CHARMERS (매혹하는)

• Position // Main Rapper, Sub-Vocalist

• Agency // HeartEater Events & Artist Management

• Training Period // 1 year 1½ months

{ Personality }

{+} Loyal | Passionate | Intelligent

• Nerissa's heart belongs entirely to her CHARMERS. She would die for her group and for any groupmate, and fight fiercely to protect anyone and everyone. Though not exactly known for being the most kind-hearted most of the time, her loyalty will make her stick her neck out for others, as well as do what she can to comfort them, despite comforting not exactly being a strong-suit. 

• Not one to give up, Neri has enough drive to try to move an entire building herself if she had to. She doesn't like settling for second-best, and will push herself and others to do the best they can do, if not more than they have already. Her passion and drive shape basically everything she does, from co-leading CHARMERS when Leola is off, to solving problems, to fighting in a battle of bars and disses.

• Easily able to identify and fix a problem, one of Nerissa's best qualities as a co-leader is her drive and ability to figure things out. She is able to figure out a plan and act accordingly, and because of this, she makes a strong guide for her CHARMERS despite her rasher tendencies. When it matters most she will let her mind make the decisions rather than her heart. 

{<} Cool | Woman-of-a-few-words | Driven

• Her aloofness and slightly icy tone will make Nerissa a great speaker for her group's future Gatherings, presenting herself and CHARMERS as resilient and without weakness. This tone is really just a combination of how she speaks and terrible communication skills though, and makes her seem a bit prickly to try to get close to with any bandmates as well as other idols alike. This is unintentional, and though Neri isn't exactly a softie, she does care for her groupmates and friends a ton. 

• Nerissa's speech is direct and with little frills, which leaves little room for misunderstanding. She speaks her mind clearly, and isn't one to hide a detail for conveniences or friendships sake. This can also make her a little blunt, as well as hard to read. If she has nothing to say, she wont force herself to say anything, which can lead to some awkward silences or unimpressed stares with no explanation. 

• Though in most cases this trait can be a positive influence, this also means Neri has a tendency to never know when to stop. This applies especially to herself, and she will overwork herself to uselessness if given the chance when a certain task is taking longer than anticipated or not working out like she thought it would. 

{–} Short-tempered | Doubtful | One-track-minded

• Thick skin and a level head are not virtues Nerissa posses. She gets easy offended or defensive, and though she's not argument-hungry, she is quick to lash out at anyone in either words or physical jabs when defending her pride or the pride of her group. She only means well, but you could see in her eyes that she really did not like the playful jab.

• Neri is quick to dismiss something if she doesn't see it for herself (though this being said, she's always willing to look). She's rather suspicious of other groups' intentions, though this is in her eyes, very reasonable, considering CHARMERS had only recently debuted. Though this, she often let's the other members decide what to do since, again, she isn't much of a smooth talker.

• Nerissa's not one for negotiations, and will rigidly stick to what she thinks is the best plan of action to her. Her one-track-mind can be a hassle for others to work around, both in and out of her group. She's not one to come to a conclusion and stick to it if she's unsure of it, but there are few times when she thinks she is unsure of what the best action would be, and this heavily disturbs her mental state.

{ Trivia }

• Nerissa was scouted through a video audition that was sent into multiple different popular companies but she's been rejected multiple times, but one employee for a big company sent the video to an employee from HeartEater and they sent the video to their CEO and she asked to call this girl in for an audition.

• She was skeptical but she came to the company with her brother [who's a lawyer I might add] and showed what she can do before she was given a contract and she ended up staying with the company

• Growing up with very little money to go around, Neri knew all about the trials and tribulations that her family had to endure to sustain them at a young age and decided to do all she could for money, which included performing and teaching herself how to sing and rap.

• She followed hip hop groups and would often sneak out of the house after coming home from school to watch them rap and after one thing went to another, she ended up being involved and showed that she had potential to possess the articulation and the flow of a future artist and ever since then she's been a regular with the mic, spitting out quirky lyrical content with classic hip hop beats which attracted a bit of a crowd.

• She was later taken in by one of the most popular freelance rappers in the city and he showed her all the ropes as well as discipline her to become the passionate, fire breathing 'Dragon Unnie' she is today.

• In fact the nickname 'Dragon Unnie' came from her old stage name back in the day 'Little Dragon Girl', and when the group found out she expects the nickname to pop up on more.

• She was also nicknamed 'Thailand's Ticking Time Bomb' for how many words she can rap in a minute and BINCH it's astonishing how much passion comes out of her mouth.

• LIKE RAPPING A FULL ON 6 SENTENCE PARAGRAPH ABOUT THE EARTH DYING AND TURNING IT INTO A BANGIN RAP AND NAILING IT IN UNDER 3 MINUTES IS ENOUGH TO CAUSE THE GROUND TO SPLIT IN HALF–

• The Minotaur just called, he wants his anger back

• Even though she's the main rapper of CHARMERS, she can still try to belt out a few notes (and kinda trip up sometimes, maybe)

• With Nerissa, being herself, is very awkward with conversations and would often try to start up with the weirdest questions you'd normally not ask, just because she isn't fluent in normal English or meme English.

• So she'd just be so confused when Leola, Moira or Pearl drops a meme reference. #memesfornerissa

• Please, shes too old and precious for us all 😔

• She and Fumiko make up what the others call 'Team Too Posh' because of their 'uptight' traits and attitudes (even though they don't really enjoy being boxed together sometimes)

• Favorite food: She doesn't exactly have a favorite food. She eats practically everything

• Favorite drink: Jasmine tea, unsweetened and warm

• Her current concern: How not to step on the dog poos early in the morning while getting ready for the day.

• Her future goals: To create a rap centered record label of her own, produce the best rappers and create bangers for future generations to enjoy

[alchemisland]

The Moors Mutt - I

Part II coming on Tuesday!

I. Old Stone

The beast I knew only in folkloric snippets. Hedge whispers perverting history to arcana through time immemorial. Perhaps too I had known it in nightmares, shapeless until named, becoming then familiar as a bedchamber.

It was grim autumn when that fateful letter arrived, setting in motion a chain of events both strange and unlikely. In retrospect, that a series of vignettes so bizarre could start with the simple act of a posted letter seemed comical.

The letter landed with a thud, dubbing me sole executor of the late Lady Renton Sizemore's last will, a grim charge requiring a trip to her wicked home, listed in the Briarscombe country house register as the third most bloodstained holding in England.

Dislike isn't the word. Lady Sizemore and I got on famously when last we spoke, thirty years ago. I wasn't the doting schoolboy turned dribbling manchild spending Saturday nights at bingo. Neither was she the elderly relation procuring coins from behind ears to the delight of the youngers.

We were not eachother's keeper. Why I was suddenly favoured for this sensitive task that required more mental finesse than anyone in the family gave me credit for out loud, puzzled me greatly. Somebody must have annoyed her at one of her events. Sandwich gala on the Pringle Estate destroyed by careless nephew's untucked shirt. In true family style, whatever infuriated her she took to the grave.

Once the money was apportioned, I was to ensure no stone went unturned, apt phrasing given its namesake. Cairn Cottage stood oppressively atop the mound some two hundred winters, a plundered megalith shielding against the bracing gales.

Up there the flowers bloomed blighted, grass grew sideways and only the sturdiest roots survived. Without the megalith's girth, perhaps those winds might have toppled the twisted demesne, but she held firm now as old.

Mystics, druids and spiritualists alike extolled the house's phantasmic virtues. Fringe groups scrambled to reserve exclusive use of the land for Candlemas ceremonies. Lady Sizemore didn't care, provided she was soundly remunerated.

Rumours abounded of hauntings, anomalies occurring on the land by midnight's trickery.

Upon receipt of instruction, I spurred my carriage toward Cairn Cottage, the house in whose shadow no local walked without rosaries.

Although my visit was primarily administrative, there was another matter pertinent to my interests. One muttering which above all others inspired fear. A cautionary tale warning children from the grounds by night. And sometimes, on cold and lonely nights, a brave man wandering alone might see fit to take the longer road home.

Worse than druids, they said a beast lived on the Moor. A hulking creature, whose snarling teeth bared in fullness of dark glowed like spears of starlight, whose stark brightness was dulled only by the gleaming viscera of previous engagements clinging in ragged flaps.

However the rumour started, it long sprouted legs of its own, more exciting with each recounting.

No smoke without fire. I intended to find the single primal ember, the lone truthful element, stripped of frill and frock, fancy and folly, bereft of myth, or loyalty to tradition. Was there something in the fields by night? Was it dangerous?

First came Sperrin, a grizzly hamlet outside the estate's confines. For a penny, a local lad promised to find a suitable nook for the trap. I visited the sole watering hole, a squalid cellar named Lar's. The tavern itself was not charmless, offering average vintage for below average prices, warmth, music, rustic flattery and inimitably, whispers of the beast.

The tavern's proprietor Lar was a man out of time. With his arms folded across his simian chest and those big lugs like trophy handles either side of his substantial forehead, he could have easily passed for a saxon chieftain. He stood astride the bar against a backdrop of coloured bottles. Immediately upon entering his eyes set upon me with great intensity. Unlike the merry keep of fireside tales, he offered no warmth in greeting. That you were found fit to sit his barstool was kindness enough.

Inebriates remained nursing drams, glowering at their respective lecterns. Occasionally I'd catch one staring at me, then turn away as I waved. After a while sitting and sipping, making a game of catching their nosy glances, I signalled Lar's attention. 'This is probably going to sound strange. Probably because it is. Hear me out though. Have you ever heard or seen anything strange out on the moor?'

Widened like an owl, Lar's right eye scanned me once, twice, three times before he moved a muscle. 'Have in fact. Not now though. Too many around. Later.' His lips barely moved. I tipped my nose.

Nearer closing, he poured a cup and sat, remaining on the business side of the bar.

'The beast, you say?' He leaned in close, one eyebrow raised, its shape the arching rod of a hooked line. 'I could tell you a thing or two about the beast alright.'

'Prithee speak, my curiosity is burning. I won't rest a wink until it's satiated. Tourist talk aside, do you believe, as men do God, a beast prowls these forests?' I inched forward, as if by closer proximity, the truths would be truer.

'Regular Theseus, eh? Monster hunters, we have had plenty. Lovers of darkness too. Students of forbidden arts. All are served here. Kings and paupers alike. Did you come all this way to hear me say that?' Lar spoke with great confidence. The manner of his prattling meant the tales he told were true, or this was practiced.

'No.' I replied, 'I have business in the cottage. My heart though, she belongs to this creature. I am not a quack, nor a holder of séances. I am not a man of low learning on the hunt for falsehoods. I am a lover of stories. Pray, continue your captivating narrative.'

He continued, 'Let it be said I was coaxed. You wanted this.'

In this ominous portent he let slip a mask of deft craft. There was artifice in his smile, a cheshire grin that touched either cheekbone. A whispered suggestion of hidden intent.

Everything made sense. Was I seeing clearly? More than ever. I saw his ruse; city boy down for the day, take him for a ride, tell him the usual stories. A pal of his will burst in at just the right time, scare me half to death, then they'll take me to the supposed hot-spot for the low price of everything I've got. Lar took me for a lettuce. Something in his warning tipped me. A little over-arch. If his performance was not theatre, then Shakespeare never wrote.

Doubtless once finished, Lar would proffer some overpriced talisman no fellwalker could risk refusing.

'Enough pussyfooting. Spill it. I'll need all the advice I can get.' Like a drill tip, I pressed my index finger into the bar.

'No matter what image I conjure in your mind's eye, the beast is yet more ferocious and terrible in the flesh. It's the great unreality of it.' He tapped his forehead. 'Your mind doubts what it's seeing, unable to comprehend its stimulus. Brave men are made mice in its shadow.'

'What evidence have you of such a creature?' I asked, draining my tankard. He did the same, then wiped the amber residue on the back of his hand. He looked me over once, as if to ask who I was to question. I returned a withering gaze, maneuvering my features to convey a similar message. For a moment the air felt charged with kinetic possibility. As when two pugilists circle to begin a contest, lead hands pawing. Neither of us wished to be responsible for qualms.

He broke the armistice. 'Evidence? If you didn't think it weren't here, you wouldn't have come. If you believed in your heart this week you'd be contending with a monster, you'd have stayed at home in your jams.'

'Nonsense, man! You forget I am summoned, not here of my own volition.'

'We, each of us, tell ourselves sweet little lies to justify how our limited time is spent. I have a right mind to think if the lady yet lived, you and I might still have met. On a yawning stretch such as this, arriving as you have: alone and curious. If there's one thing I can't respect, it's a self hating believer. Swanning around with all the cynicism of a non-believer, clad in the robes of an adherent, so that when the hobby is proved spurious you can point to your skepticism. You'd be first to the papers tomorrow if scientists verified the beast's existence, how you had journeyed and studied on your own dime to further the science.' Lar pursed his lips, knowing he'd cut me to the quick, vanished was his earlier reticence.

I hated how right he was. I was exactly this sort. Insulting people who believed the same things as me. First to refuse to enter a haunted house for fear a demon might take my soul.

I'd never concede his point though. I riposted, 'Few are more loathed than the opinionated barman. You speak much too readily. Do so again, I'll see your manners are checked for the next weary traveler willing to pay good coin.'

Lar's eyes lit, bulging with imagined riches. 'Let me fill your drink, sir. I meant no offence. We speak freely here. Manners soften. Soon one finds truths cannot be digested unperfumed. Here in the wilds, it's a duty to voice quarrel. Far from crown and court, unaired anger festers.' Lar gladly dispensed his pearls of rural wisdom as if they were sweets from a bulging striped bag.

'Really, man. Every idea can be made ridiculous if extrapolated to that degree. Manners take the edge off. I'm not offended by your candor. I intend to find the creature, if such exists. Have you no doubt about that.' I watched him pull another drink.

The returned tankard was too full to raise without spilling. I slurped loudly, head bowed. Like a pulled plug, half the liquid gone in a single gulp.

'What evidence is sufficient? Look around you.' Lar held aloft his hands, urging me toward his empty business, still cast in a sickly light from the last flickering sentinels.

He pointed toward the empty seats. A single patron remained hidden in the shadows. A local by his boots.

'We did a roaring trade before that bloody woman inherited the place. Once she came, the trade died. When I was a lad, that land was free to roam. No walls. She had them built to spite us. Worse rumours too and all, that she built those walls to house it.'

'It?' I asked

'It. The beast.' Lar's voice lowered to a whisper. 'A cage for a pet beyond control. That's your sort all over. Dabbling where you shouldn't.'

'Her sort.' I corrected, 'I'm not aristocratic. You're a presumptuous sort, you know.'

'Believe you're not the first to say. Her sort, whatever pleases. I don't subscribe to this theory. Me personally, I think it came from hell. One thing's for certain, it got worse when they shifted the cairn.'

'You say you have seen it?' Part of me thought I was the one stringing him along, but another more gullible me firmly believed, or wanted to believe, that he had seen something. Hoping not to seem needy, I drew myself close to him, the bar still between us, 'With your own eyes if you saw it, you must swear it now. Did you see it as I see you now, or as one sees the distant stars and erroneously assumes knowledge.'

'As I stand before you.' Lar gestured to his stained apron, which he then removed and hung on a hook overhead. He nodded to the barfly, who stumbled from his seat and shot the bolt across the lock, an angry black mechanism like a bas-relief, which clanked against the timber as he let it fall. 'That's Fergus.'

Fergus lurched over. One leg trailed behind him. I couldn't help imagining him as a gothic manservant, dragging corpses to the laboratory in pursuit of higher knowledge. He came to stand beside me. There were giants on the earth is those days. Though our eyes observed the same setpieces, his countenance betrayed little comprehension. He had the chiseled jaw of a marble bust in profile, but his mouth hung open permanently, moist lips pursed like a fish.

He placed an enormous hand on my shoulder. Such space was permitted between his splayed fingers that ten legions abreast might find passage unmolested. His knuckles protruded unnaturally, evidence of labour, something harder than masonry or smithcraft. Mayhaps soldiering overseas.

I stared at his hand. He never looked at me. I coughed, first mannerly, then more harshly, thinking to approach cautiously lest my assumption prove provident, that he had lost his sound during foreign campaigns, of whose spoils we all were beneficiaries.

'Don't mind him.' Lar said. He spoke softly in the presence of his friend, observing his movements closely, ready to interject with a steadying hand or a warning to the cruelly curious. I wondered were they brothers. They bore little resemblance, though stranger things I had heard. Lar took Fergus' wrist and pressed gently, disturbing the folds of his motheaten jacket. They shared a moment I could but observe, radiating warmth and glad tidings in a wordless wave.

'I mean not to speak boldly, and lash me with spite if I transgress overmuch, but I must know or I should forever wonder, are you kin?'

Fergus shared Lar's laugh with the same look of bemused ignorance.

'You hear that? Fancy man reckons we're brothers. Probly thinks we're all related down this end, and not in a godly way.' Lar laughed, a viking bellow.

Lar released his grip and the folds of Fergus' sleeve righted themselves. He spoke several octaves lower, miming offence at my observation. I started to explain I intended no hidden subtext, but Lar waved to indicate all was taken as delivered.

'We are not brothers. Close friends. Known Fergus here forever.' He gently tapped the giant's hand, slapped on the bar like some enormous muddy bird print. 'Used to be a keen cookie too, once upon a forever ago. Loved languages, Welsh mostly. Pugilism he loved more. One passion consumed the other. Anything burning so intensely inevitably cannibalises itself. Took one knock too many, stole his wits in an instant. A left hook across the bar sent him erstwhile. Twenty five minutes he was on the shores of night, learning the landscape of the dreamworlds, while we fanned his rigid form, wet his brow and whispered familiar names in his ear. When at last he woke a part of him was left forever in that place. I like to think, boyishly perhaps, it awaits him upon leaving this plain of lousy strife, like the belongings awaiting a homeward jailbird. The cloak of a lost lifetime. Not for him. He'll slide right into it, fit like a tailored piece, and all of eternity to speak. Not here though.'

Tears welled in his eyes. I took the reins, 'Think nothing of your emotions, man. We each have them. Doubtless I will shed a tear up in the old witch's place. Another life awaits, that much is sure. Grander than this. I'm sure he made, and makes, a fine man. Built like a gladiator. I am sorry to have dredged unpleasantness. I meant only to satisfy my own selfish curiosity. Forgive me. Please, continue.'

'I will at that.'

'It were one night, three years ago. Ferg was there. We'd been called out on account of strange noises near the workers' cottage. They wouldn't work until the evil was killed or driven away. We came down from the high road proper and saw it between the trees ahead. Like a horse it stood, with clumsy stilts supporting an ursine bulk that swayed as it shambled. It drank shadows to conceal its dread presence. Blackness it took for robe. In walking its front paws propelled its cumbersome form, while the rear set, less lengthy, dredged channels in the dirt. In motion it arched to reveal a belly spun of lighter felt, ashen in the scant moonlight. Bundled, it became an orb of shadow, nothingness.'

'Unbeknownst we watched it watching, green eyes like blazing protostars probing for movement. Well it knew to choose this site, one of only two wells being located nearby. In a flash then it was gone, satin-shoed away into the night.'

The tale Lar knew was a scorcher paused. He beamed, an actor awaiting applause. I gathered my jaw from the floor, brushed it and set it back properly.

Each word drew me closer, which Fergus mirrored, until we three sat as witches about the bubbling lip of their cauldron, a coven of pallid specters.

Lar paused to sip and nodded we join.

I wondered had my hobby, in a blink, become too dangerous to justify. It was well telling my employers of ghost hunts, but a wild beast - my insurance wouldn't have it! If it turns out some menagerie escapee, what then was it? Quest for wonder or recklesss folly? Weiss, Wellie and Wardun insurance, even in their most obscure policies, don't pay out for fools. That's why I chose them!

Lar went on, a fresh cigarette painting the air blue in his articulation, 'Each new, shifting moon we came to that spot and watched. We took it upon ourselves to rid the land of danger.'

'Fergus knows a bit about a bit, that's what's left to him, God bless. What he knows is knots. Army training dictates every officer have at least passing knowledge of ten or more useful fastenings.'

'Me? I know about animals. We make a fierce duo. We inquired in advance about a reward, to which the estate responded agreeably, so we set off with lengths of rope overshoulder and the angriest looking traps the furmen could spare, determined to snare it. We planted snares all about its presumed domain.'

'Nothing came. Not a rat. Not a wisp. Not never again. It's the mystery disturbs me most. I'd die happy knowing.'

In his voice a single note of longing rang, dispelling the subterfuge of his intentions and, in the length of a breath, his beings and inner machinations were laid bare. Far from the sinister goldlust and murderous intention I had silently attributed to him, he seemed eager in an earnest fashion, willing in the name of a job done.

I observed Lar, powerful and straight. 'Do I sense an unfinished quest?'

'Aye. Not too subtle, mind.' Lar flashed a toothy smile, the sort a condemned man spits at his executioner. 'You seem a serious man. I didn't know when you first came in parading your manners like fancy knickers. You can't be too sure about a man who gives too many pleases. You're not that sort and have proved such twice over.' Lar imagined that was a compliment from the look he gave me. Expectant almost, between child submitting scribbles for display and cat batting dead mouse onto pillow.

Well, of course I had something to say about that. Cats were hissing. A donnybrook of claws and torn fur not even a hearty stock of iodine could salve. 'And I might say also that I too had cast aspersions on your character, maintaining you were of sinister country stock. As you claim to have been rapturously convinced otherwise, as have I.'

'Once the lady's estate is divided and bequeathed I'll receive my own. I mean to inherit a substantial bursar. I will pay to you a fair sum. In exchange, you will guide me to the hotpots, generally ensuring nothing eats me. When we find it, you're in charge until it's bound.' If he came, it would be on my terms.

'Find it? Slow down. We've seen it once in a hundred times. I'll take you gladly all the same.'

Wordless, we shook hands and drained our horns.

'Tomorrow?' Lar asked. He drew my gaze to an unopened whiskey bottle, which I declined.

'Not so, good man. Tomorrow I will tend my affairs. In the evening, if all is ordered, I will return to discuss further a plan of action. Have you a room I might rent?'

'Not for everyone mind, so don't go saying. There's one in the back. I'll light the fire.'

'Please do.'

I left a generous tip. Before following the publican to the warm hollow, I shook Fergus' hand, assuming he too would be part of our fortean friendship.

While I slumbered, the nightmare broke free her paddock, thundering across the veil of my somnambulant phantasmagoria, its clanging hooves ringing shrill terror.

I saw spined creatures oozing pus, many-eyed. Edgeless orbs hissing like flying snakes from one black abyss to another.

Cats with human faces screamed. A hairless man with a tail curled upwards like a scorpions noxious pike disemboweled himself with a broken mirror.

Last came the bestial form, not unlike that which Lar had described, striding evilly. Two venom coated fangs, uncontained by its snarling mouth, curved inward toward its breast. Catlike claws glinted menacingly. Turning my third eye downwards as if to look upon my feet, I found I was formless, yet the beast circled knowingly around the space my corporeal form should occupy.

I knew instinctively this reverie was more tangible than the others. That if the beast should strike I would die or wake screaming with a crimson pool spreading below me. It sniffed the air, pawing closer.

I woke to my beastless chamber. Sodden, I sought a candle and in its gloam chronicled my nightmare. That night sleep ne'er returned, making groggy my morning plod toward Cairn Cottage.

[maneaterwithtail]

I don't know, Steven Universe is a show that likes to take things slowly, and it isn't over yet, we could still see something

Both the video that I linked to and I myself a pointed out it’s not just their pacing. While it’s true that there are some aspects the show has taken slow and done a remarkable job with,.I actually want to compliment Greg’s characterization her,. but at the same time this is something that I feel they didn’t have to take too slow. 

Greg’s characterization and greater participation didn’t have to be a mystery. But at the same time I can admire the greater narrative that they leave by doing what they did. Greg is basically meant to be read early on as lovable but there’s something off about him. We later start to realize he’s actually really depressed. It’s only later that he starts to take actions in order to get out of his malaise and start to be a more vibrant and active role in his son’s life. But I think that they overplayed some of the depression angle by shortchanging some of the human inheritance that Steven had. Now some of this is probably a matter of production. Chances are Greg’s voice actor may need time in order to sync up with Steve’ns voice actor. The writers need to have an idea of how to use the character better.House Guest was arguably Greg’s- what- third, maybe fifth, appearance in the entire show. And it showed him being the most negative long-term consequence on Steven’s development as opposed to anything that happened with pearl or lapis. And the thing is it’s hard to ignore that. Especially how oblique they were with presenting Greg’s issues. and strengths And how minor Greg’s contributions were both early on in the present and hidden they were in terms of the entire franchise. There was an in character interview in a nonofficial magazine indicating that Greg was the original caretaker of Steven. But it took a long time before we realize he had an active parental role in Stevens life.And just to be clear when I bring stuff like this up I don’t mean him going on missions or becoming Bard dad like in the video game.I mean stuff like . . . there’s this one comic of when Steven wants to participate in a bike race. And we suddenly see how Greg advises Steven through the minor crisis of how to handle getting permission for a bike race from the Gems. Stuff like that is absolutely missing in the first two seasons. It’s hinted at ,and Steven shows starry-eyed devotion akin to Greg being that kind of decent influence,but add in the fact that he’s almost completely absent from the other acute areas in Stevens life and there seems to be a complete lack of communication or interest in one of Steven’s major goals -mainly interacting with magic stuff.

And while it’s wrong to basically make it a pearl competing against Greg thing I can’t help but contrast and compare. Pearl was always portrayed as somewhat neurotic. But the reason why she became dubbed “Bird Mom “was because we regularly saw her being a mother and an influence in Steven’s life even if not always a perfect one. By contrast Greg was rarely around and when he did show up as contributions were a lot more questionable and then literally negative when he was. His second big Focus episode actually has him asserting that he needs to cut himself out of Steven’s life if he want sto stop being a negative influence on it

This was with a major character who basically is supposed to represent Stevens origin for his Humanity. And for arguably the first two seasons you had a wonder what did Rose see you this person and if he was dangerous.

I do appreciate again the arc that they ended up illustrating over an extended period of time. But in terms of execution there were smarter ways to handle this. And I have to wonder, given everyone else that’s been neglected or mishandled in the interim, if Greg’s success was more accident.This gets worse when you consider how often severe the behavior of the gems gets and yet remains relatively less condemned. Such as the entire sardonyx issue or when amethyst becomes Rose in order to mess with Greg.

And of course there’s this one point when I realize that lion 3 absolutely doesn’t hold up when you realize Greg should have that tape and have showed it to Steven some time ago. There’s nothing about it that should in any way shape or form be a secret. Greg is not someone who doesn’t like discussing his past. He doesn’t have any reason not to show Steven his mother and they explicitly made it so that that way they could leave some sort of communication for Steven and let him know that he was a product of love This gets more so with Lion 4.I adore what they’ve done with the character of Greg. But I think a lot of it was a very odd Road in order to get to and some of it struck me as needless  deviations or making things harder than they had to. I think a lot of the overall Impressions and higher negative situations weren’t needed in the character dynamic. Much like Steven’s Father being the worst parental influence for him has some negative connotations for me. Even if he did the exact same things but just add and or make more explicit positive contributions or apparent communication/awareness without it seeming as if he’s being over self-important or delusional.

The same can be applied to Ronaldo. I think that they made Ronaldo needlessly more negative than they had to or at least requires more follow through and arguably got too much Focus. What they wanted to convey with characters like Lars? There’s just too much hinting with some human characters. And some of the hints we get of others are so severe you have to wonder how we’re ever supposed to sympathize with them. This sounds way more harshly criticaI.  ‘guess it’s more a matter of why this issue persists. I’m not going to blame fans for having a negative impression of Ronaldo. I think they take it too far, but I can’t blame them for it because we basically erase the potential virtue of the character and constantly make him a bother or remind of realworld severe issues. And yet at the same time he’s underdeveloped to the point where they’ll throw pretty intense ideas such as him having a girlfriend or possibly having highly violent tendencies along with a dangerous mentalit,y if not actual mental illness, which for a fourth tier comedy relief character strikes me as dubious and takes or demands too much attention that they obviously don’t have time for. It really bugs me because of how anemic Steven Universe’s ties are to humanity. Early on he’s introduced as having a pretty strong tie with almost everyone in the boardwalk. This is good but he’s also missing a lot of proper peers and we later find out he’s not socialized at school.

 Now there’s spin-off media indicating how he’s perfectly home educated. But we haven’t had say in episode where Steven joins a local Academic Decathlon. Or something like the aforementioned bike race. I think that peedee Fryman is in fact the worst missed opportunity in terms of the Early Show. What’s worse I can arguably say a lot of the things that Ronaldo said in rocknaldo. But now they’ve been framed as coming from a place of bigotry oppression and cultural appropriation Not valid criticisms of how either Steven or the eyms or the show conducts or takes advantage of things it does.I’m sorry I’m not very concise and I’m just trying to convey the rather minor but still complex issue that I have with the show’s flaws and how they seem to grow in persist when it feels like they don’t even have to be there. It’s like you’re watching a perfectly fine dance get every so often the dancer does this weird dip with their foot even in certain instances that might be a stylistic choice but you can tell at least you’ve receive it is making her footwork more wobbling. At some point she’s going to break her ankle or absolutely face plant in the middle of a routine. And at least for me or the Keen Observer it’s just not going to work and it bothers constantly to see this one thing constantly done and what is overall a very unique and elaborate experience. This is why the flaws keep bothering me especially given how pointed that they can be in terms of the goals of the execution

EDITTED FOR MUCH NEEDED CLARITY @lowliz