#And loft wings are adorable

[majorproblems77]

🗻 (If you were in a Zelda game, where would you live? What would you be doing?)

(I have no idea how ask games work 😭)

This is exactly how ask games work!

Okay so

🗻 I'd love to live in Skyloft, It looks so cosy and I'd love a loft wing of my own... However, I'm horrifically scared of heights so that may not be the best thing.

So maybe the New settlement that the Skyloftians make on the surface. Probably as a baker? I love making cookies and cakes.

[diazsdimples]

hi james <3 make em swoon prompt: hugging them from behind for bucktommy

Hi Nolan!!! As you wish 🫡

Something Buck was really learning to love about having a firefighter boyfriend was how well he fit in at the station with the 118.

Granted, it helped that Tommy knew Hen, Bobby and Chimney from way back when he was a probie himself, and can provide banter with Eddie that even rivals Buck's level of teasing, but it still takes Buck by surprise at just how perfectly he nestled into their little family.

The first time Tommy came over to surprise Buck, he'd been leaning against the outside wall of the station when the engine had pulled in after responding to a 2 alarm fire. He'd had his arms crossed over his chest, with that indulgent "god you're adorable, Evan" smile on his face as Buck had dropped down from the passenger seat and strode over to him, burying his face in Tommy's shoulder.

Times after that included Bobby secretly inviting him over for lunch with the station on the 4th of July after Buck had lamented about spending their first holiday apart, Tommy showing up with breakfast after a long, arduous night shift, and Tommy hiding in a storage closet late in the evening during one of Buck's 24 hour shifts, grabbing Buck as he walked past and pulling him in for a mind-blowing fuck while the rest of the station slept.

And Buck - well Buck was pretty sure he hadn't been happier in all his life. Whenever he saw Tommy playing pool with Hen, or sparring with Eddie, or battling Chimney on the XBOX, his heart would flutter, like it had become a butterfly and grown wings, and ready to beat out of his chest. It just felt so... perfect.

It had been a couple of days since he and Tommy had seen one another, and Buck was missing him. They'd exchanged texts and facetimed a couple of times but it wasn't the same as having Tommy's arms around him, or feeling Tommy press soft kisses against his neck. He missed that physical contact.

"You seem a little down today, man," Eddie muses as he and Buck chop vegetables in the kitchen. Bobby had ordered 3 finely diced carrots and some chopped celery sticks to make part of tonight's dinner, and had put Eddie in charge, with Buck's supervision.

Buck looks up from where he's been systematically shredding the end of a celery stick with surprise. "Really? I-I'm fine, I swear."

Eddie raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. Not that Buck's entirely surprised; his best friend could scope out a change in Buck's mood before it even happens. He'd be stupid to think he could hide anything from Eddie.

"Uh, sure you are. Nothing to do with the fact that you're missing a certain 6'2 muscular pilot, hmm?"

Buck blushes, the red heat creeping up his cheeks, and he quickly drops his eyes back to the celery in front of him, trying desperately not to meet Eddie's eyes.

"That obvious, huh?"

Eddie laughs, a sound that Buck had heard so rarely over the last year and now can't seem to go a day without hearing, and pats Buck on the shoulder. "Just a little bit, yeah. I mean, you've been moping around the station the last few days, and everytime your phone buzzes, you practically pounce on it to see if it's him."

Buck's blush deepens, and he shoves the half-shredded celery stick back onto the chopping board, dropping his head into his hands. "I miss him," he says, his voice small.

Eddie softens a little, and reaches up to grasp Buck's shoulder, giving it a little squeeze.

"Yeah, I'll bet," he says sympathetically. He puts the carrot back on the chopping board with a sigh. "Hey I left something downstairs, mind if you keep doing this? I'll be right back."

Buck rolls his eyes, familiar with Eddie's get-out-of-cooking tactics.

"Yeah, whatever. I'll finish it for us."

Eddie gives him a big grin and claps his shoulder again.

"Lifesaver. Be right back!"

And with that, he's crossing the loft and taking the stairs two at a time, footsteps echoing through the firehouse. Buck shakes his head and chuckles to himself. He's pretty sure Eddie would rather step on a thousand Legos than ever help prepare dinner.

With a small shake of his head, Buck continues to chop the celery and carrots, throwing them into a small bowl together. He's been doing it for a few minutes when he hears footsteps behind him. Assuming it's Eddie, Buck doesn't turn around, and continues to chop.

"You find what you were looking for?"

"Oh, I think I did."

A deep, gravelly voice fills Buck's ears as a pair of thick, strong arms circles his waist, and Buck's heart leaps instantly as he recognises the smell of Tommy's cologne.

"Tommy? What are you doing here?!" Buck exclaims, putting down the knife and lacing his fingers with Tommy's. Tommy rests his head on Buck's shoulder, pressing small kisses into the skin just above Buck's uniform shirt.

"Thought I'd stop by and surprise you, baby. I missed you. Eddie helped me organise it."

Buck grins widely and turns in Tommy's arms, leaning forward and pressing their lips together in a deep, searing kiss. His arms wrap around Tommy's neck and he tugs him closer, revelling in the feel of Tommy's hands resting against the small of his back, holding him steady.

After a moment, they break apart, and Buck leans their foreheads together, a wide, beaming smile on his face.

"God, I've missed you," he murmurs. "This is the best surprise."

Tommy smiles back at him, rubbing their noses together.

"Yeah, I missed you too, Ev. It's good to see you."

He gives Buck one last peck on the lips, and then releases him, turning his attention to the celery and carrots Buck had been chopping. He picks one up between his thumb and forefinger, scruitinising it with mock-intensity.

"So, what you making?"

Tagging bucktommy friends

@theotherbuckley @bidisasterevankinard @watchyourbuck @neverevan @hippolotamus

@wikiangela @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @jesuisici33 @emilybahu @detectivehorror

@disasterstans @ioncedreamedaflower @bandluvr97 (mutuals pls lmk if you want to be tagged in Bucktommy stuff, I haven't quite scoped out who's okay with them and who isn't)

[legendofmorons]

Quiet intimacy with the boys -headcannons (Romantic)

Four

He's a calm guy, he likes to sit up woth you before you go to bed and listen about your day.

He'll rub your shoulders as you tell him about it

Then we he talls you about his you play with his hair or rub his shoulders

You kiss each other's cheeks, foreheads, and shoulders as you lay in the dark and discuss dreams of a future

He likes to kiss your hands anytime he had the chance, like a prince or knight.

If you let him, he likes to trace your scars, tattoos, and any burns you have. He likes them because they probe that you're strong.

He likes it when you trace his scars, too.

Hyrule

Hyrule loves time spent in nature

He loves seeing you shrouded in moonlight on dark nights

He likes to dance barefoot with you in the moonlight if we're gonna be honest

Gardens, he likes to garden with you and then cook whatever you've grown

He really likes to see you in nature, lots of quiet walks through forests and summer days in a stream

He likes you to play with hisbhair when he sleeps, it keeps him calm because you're the only person who really does it

He likes to rub his thumb over your knuckles when you hold hands

Legend

Legend likes to brush your hair. It calms him down and helps you take care of yourself

If you have a hard time taking care of your hair, he's happy to style it for you. He learns the styles you like no matter what your hair is like.

He won't admit it to anyone but you... but he likes when you brush out his hair or wash it for him.

He likes when you play with his hands, it reassures him that he's okay becuase you're right there and you are safe too

When you play with his hands he usually leans on your shoulder after leaving a kiss on your cheek

He likes it when you're both waking up and don't want to, so you burrow under the blankets together.

Sky

Sky likes to have an arm around you at campfires as people talk. He doesn't want to overwhelm you but becuase he watched his childhoods friend fall thousands of feet away from him he gets anxious

If you sit next to him and take his hand all on your own he smiles sweetly at you with bright eyes.

Sky likes when you ride his loft wing with him, your arms around his torso as you hold on

The way you laugh as he leads his bird into a dive always makes his whole day

He also really likes when you cling to him in your sleep. It makes him feel so special

Time

Slow dancing

No really slow dancing! Anywhere anytime with or without music. Popular spots for this are the kitchen, the living room, or next to the campfire

He likes how you laugh when he swings you into a slow dance or when he dips you

Time adores when you patch him up.

Obviously, he tries not to need it, but when it happens, it makes him melt because you're so gentle with him

He likes when you take his hand without really thinking about it, no matter the reason. He'll squeeze your hand as greeting

He really just likes when you hold eachother. He feels so at peace with you

Twilight

Twilight becomes a puddle of simp when you let him play with your hands or hair he just feels so blessed

He loves to play with your hair becuase it's just so relaxing for him, it calms his mind down

Twilight likes to carry you.

So when he gives you piggy back rides or a fireman's carry to be playful he's often smiling like a fool

If he carries you bridal style it leaves him breathless becuase you look so beautiful. It doesn't matter if he's carrying becuase you're asleep, injures, or he's trying to be romantic.

You're always stunning to him.

If you carry him while he's almost asleep or injured he feels so cared for it makes him wanna marry you even more

He likes when you sing him lullabies when he's sick or having a bad night. He swears your singing is the best he's ever heard no matter how you may sound

He likes to make your tea or coffee, the way you light up each time is special

Warriors

Wars appreciates when you come up behind him and rub his shoulders after setting down a cup of tea

Please keep his gaze as you tell him how much he's actually worth

He likes when you sit on his lap, he feels like you trust him to keep you safe

When your in his lap he likes to wrap his arms around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder

Warriors likes to help you put on any jewelry or armor, something about the action putting him at peace

He likes you to help with his armor, too though, having you do and undo his fastenings feels so domestic

Wild

Wild likes for you to wash and brush out his hair

Basically he adores your hands in his hair or scratching gently at his scalp- it puts him at ease

Wild likes when you cook with him (or of you can't cook he likes you to keep him company)

He likes to cut vegetables while you stir or vise versa, the act of making food as always been special to him so sharing it with you is extra wonderful

Wild also likes when you hold him close, whether a hug or cuddling

He loves when you listen to his heartbeat to fall asleep, he feels like more than just a knight or chosen Hero.

Wild likes to listen to your heart beat too

Fierce Deity

Fierce is a deity older than most could ever hope to have documentation of but he really does like to hold you in any firm you allow

He marvels at how small you are compared to him, the way ypur hands fit together

He likes you to sit on his lap so he can envelope you in his form to keep you safe and warm

He likes when you clean him up after a battle, whether it's wiping off the blood and filth or patching him up.

He can't believe how gently you handle him, he's genuinely so in love

When he cradles your face the world ceases to exist for him

First

First likes to keep your kitchen knives sharp, so if you sit with him and quietly talk while he sharpens them he adores it

Please please please take his sword and shield from him when he comes home and put them on their hangers before pulling him into your arms. He will melt

When you curl into him to cuddle or hug he feels so weak, you trust him and that's more than he think he deserves

If you trace his scars with admiration he will be putty in your hands

First likes to dip you when he kisses you, the giggles he receives make it perfect

He also can never get over the way you hold him so gentle as he sleeps, waking up to your sleeping face is a blessing he will never forget.

[crazylittlejester]

Do you have any headcanons about the chain that don't necessarily affect the plot of any given story? (Like accents, food preference, favorite animal, what kind of things they do in their down time, anyone speak multiple languages, are they prone to prank wars)

And, yes, this is a request for you to ramble on (your response can be as long or short as you like)

boy oh boy do i love being enabled *cracks knuckles*

(sorry for spelling mistakes or oddly autocorrected words im dyslexic and my brain is a puddle of goo)

- Time is slowly picking up Malon’s accent. It’s not super thick, but it impacts some of the words he says, and when he’s actually ON the ranch with Malon it’s a lot more noticeable

- Warriors knows the most languages, followed VERY closely by Legend, and then Wild

- Wind picks up accents because he unintentionally mimics people around him. He does Not sound like the people from his island, he sounds like the pirates he spends the majority of his time with, although he will go back to his own accent if he spends enough time at home. Spending so much time around the chain, the pirate accent is softening and his original accent is coming out a bit, but he’s also starting to sound like Wars and also like Time, and some of his pronunciations of words are heavily influenced by specific members of the chain. Wild is KINDA like this too, but instead of unintentionally changing accents by spending a lot of time with a group of people he’s kinda created his own accent by absorbing all the others

- Wild LOVES deer, he thinks theyre adorable and precious

- When he’s really overwhelmed and just needs something mindless to do with his hands Sky finds himself carving little loft wings. Sometimes he can barely see what he’s doing through his tears, and other times he’s just so out of it he’s not paying full attention so they’re a but wonky sometimes, but theyre comforting to him. He’s got a bunch of lil carved loft wings in his bag

- Hyrule would try to peel and eat a lime like an orange. Everyone would be horrified but he wouldn’t react to the taste at all

- Four is a BIG reader, he loves books and very quickly finished the one he had at the start of the journey, so Twilight tried really hard to get him another one as a gift. also you can pry boston accent Four outta my cold dead hands

- Legend has an incredibly thick Irish accent that is nearly impossible to understand especially when he gets ranting, but the others are mostly unaware because he tries very hard to mimic a very basic accent thats easier for people all across his adventures to understand, and it ends up sounding like a not quite british not quite american accent. Warriors also hides his real accent but because he wants to blend in better with nobility so he’s trained himself to have a british accent like his Zelda

- Twilight talks to animals like they’re people. The others have seen him from afar pouring out his heart and soul to a goat because he didn’t know how else to talk through something he was struggling with and hey, if it helps it helps. Twi is so midwest coded to me but that’ll never stop me from writing him with a southern accent

[foodsies4me]

Can we have a little bit of Chairman Meow, as a treat?

Of course! Here is a little snippet of Chairman Meow being adorable.💜

Magnus wakes up to a loud crash and a muffled curse that sounds suspiciously like Alexander. Looking over at the digital clock Magnus debates dozing for another ten to twenty minutes, the time it takes for Alexander to finish whatever he's cooking and join him back in bed, when a familiar yelp rings through the loft.

The sound is quickly followed by a worried-sounding Alexander and, narrowing his eyes in suspicion at whatever ploy his daemon is pulling, Magnus climbs out of bed.

He's careful to avoid startling a still-dozing Apollo, using his magic to ensure the pillow he's sleeping on doesn't move around and then, after quickly dressing himself in one of his night robes, Magnus heads over to the kitchen.

Only to see Alexander cradling a softly meowing Chairman. He's softly pressing on one of Chairman's front paws, immediately letting go when Chairman yelps again, the sound stretching into a whiny mewl that Magnus knows is fake.

"Shit," Alexander curses again, looking worriedly at the paw before he finally seems to notice Magnus' presence. Rather than greet im with a good morning or a kiss the way he usually would, though, Magnus suddenly finds himself with a handful of his daemon instead, Alexander's worried gaze still focused on his daemon and not him.

"I dropped the cinnamon powder when I was trying to make French Toast and I think Chairman Meow stepped on some glass. Can you heal him?"

Magnus opens his mouth to inform Alexander that Chairman Meow is perfectly capable of healing his own injuries himself when Chairman’s tail twitches in that particular way that promises sharp claws and revenge if Magnus doesn’t play along with Chairman’s act.

Magnus narrows his eyes at his daemon, not trying to hide his annoyance at Chairman’s latest attempt at monopolizing Alexander’s time and  attention. Wants to be annoyed that Chairman worried Alexander with his machinations while another part of him wonders how Alexander managed to be fooled in the first place considering he’s seen Chairman get struck by a seraph blade and brush it off like nothing happened and take down a wyvern with his size and teeth alone.

Inwardly scowling at his daemons ongoing campaign to monopolize his boyfriends affections, Magnus does as requested and heals the (non-existent) injury before walking over to Chairman’s brand new cat tree  to leave home there and away from Alexander.

Only for Chairman to let out another, small pitiful sound, his eyes large and pleading as he looks at Alexander to be picked back up again before Magnus manages to get his morning kiss. Again.

I’m going to portal you to North Pole  and leave you there, Magnusthreatens Chairman through their bond.

The smug look Chairman shoots him from Alexander’s arms tells him he isn’t impressed by the threat. Or it could be because he’s got what he wanted and is getting coddled by Alexander with one arm while Alexander gets back to finishing up the French toast once Magnus has banished the broken shards of glass and summoned a new container of cinnamon powder. 

The sound of flapping wings ring through the loft right as Magnus finishes setting the table, Apollo landing on the sown-in shoulder pad on Magnus’ night robe before a little beak starts to nibble on his earrings in greeting.

“Good morning, darling,” Magnus greets, running his fingers over the back of Apollo’s neck to gently scratch there when his feathers fluff up in joy. “It’s good to know some people still care about little old me.”

Alexander rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he turns off the stove and places the French toast on the table. “Who do you think I’m making this for?” He asks, lifting the plate with the mountain of toast for emphasis. “I even went down to buy the jam you like.”

“You know I’m just teasing you, darling” Magnus says, pressing a kiss to Alexander’s lips when he sits down next to him at the table. He lifts his hand to rest on the back of Alexander’s neck when he pulls back, lightly scratching his nails down the back of Alexander’s neck.

Magnus repeats the gesture a second time, relishing in the way Alexander melts into the touch with a breathy shudder before he pulls back again, shooting Chairman a smug grin in return.

If his daemon wants to play, then he’ll play. But that doesn’t mean he’ll play fair.

[silent-dark-entries]

I left my panties at Malfoy manor.

When I woke up this morning, It was so hot that our skin felt fused together. With Draco being little spoon I was able to peel myself away from him without alarming him. I slowly made myself down the loft stairs to the bottom and search for my clothes in the darkness.

I decided to walk home before school so I can put on fresh clothes, so I got up before five. As I made myself down the driveway I notice that security had arrived. I prepare myself to make up an excuse but the gate opens without me saying anything.

Now, here I am on the side of the country road doing my very first walk of shame as the morning commuters swerve pass me. In my school girl outfit and my thirty kilo book bag. I'm starting to think I think of myself way higher than I should. This is a very humbling experience.

The sky is almost completely lit when I finally make it home. My mother has left but the mirrors are still fogged up in the bathroom so I'm assuming she has just left. She's always in a hurry to leave because she tries to get every second of sleep she can. I swipe my hand across the mirror clearing only enough to see myself for the first time since losing my virginity. I graze my hand over two purple marks Draco has left on my neck. They're faint, but still noticeable. I feel embarrassed. How am I suppose to explain this to my friends. I hop straight into the shower. Leaving my clothes and book bag by the hamper.

I get out only when the water starts to run cold. I head straight into my room trying not to look at my self in the mirror. After putting on a fresh uniform, I decide to put on some make up. Placing two red dots on the hickeys to make it look like a vampire bite and some dark eye make up.

I walk toward the science wing where the Botanist Club meets in the morning. I feel stupid with the amount of makeup I have on. Neville is the chairman and has been in it with Luna, his vice chairman, since first year.

I love walking in the science hall. It's covered in vines and colorful flowers. The floors also has the periodic table painted onto the floor by the art club from years ago.

When I look out the garden windows I see Neville leading the club back in from the green house. Luna sees me before I see her. They're both wearing their matching costumes. Neville has a pink flower on top of his head with a couple of white thorns made out of paper stuck to his school vest. Luna has a bunch of deep purple leaves stuck to her with a couple of whit flowers, along with the rest of the club that are dressed as flowers. Luna waves at me dreamily while walking towards me. After seeing Luna at Neville's party everything about her makes sense. Luna's not ditzy, she's a stoner. She's always high.

"Wow Maisie, you look fantastic!" Luna pulls me in for a hug. She smells like dirt, but not in a gross way, in the earthy way.

"So do you Luna! The whole plant squad looks adorable!" I say.

"Thank you! It was all Nev's idea of course!" Luna turns and waves at Neville and he waves back. The first bell rings and Luna and I head for class. "You're coming tonight, right? I hear Cormac was invited but Neville never got an answer."  I nod. Oh god. I forgot about the whole Hermione and Cormac secret. I completely judge Hermione for hooking up with her peer and I had done the same exact thing. 

"Hey, do you want to go to Blaise Zabini's Halloween party Saturday." I say as we turn down the History hall. It's not as decorated as the science wing but its covered in some historical documents and quotes. Nothing special.

"I was invited and it would be nice to have someone to talk to. Plus, they probably wouldn't mind you being there especially Theo." Luna rolls her eyes.

" I heard they do coke at those parties or at least, that's what Fred and George said. Pansy Parkinson did a line of space dust and stripped naked in Goyle's fountain...at a Christmas party." Luna recalls."So yes, I want to go. Who invited you anyway? Draco Malfoy?" Luna says softly as if saying his name will summon him.

"Yeah he did. The tutoring thing has brought us back as friends I guess." I say.

"Oh yes! I remember you two being close in like primary or something. How weird..." Luna says as the second bell rings. Luna and I split as we head to our separate classrooms.

My first class of the day is history with Professor Moody. He's a crazy guy but I'd easily say one of my favorites. He's a great teacher and the perfect teacher to wake me up early in the morning with his loud voice.

I sit close to Moody's desk in the front. We usually talk at the end of class or have small debates. I pull my books and pencils out as the rest of the class floods in, Including Moody.

"Almost didn't recognize you there Maisie!" Moody Laughs. "That Vampire bite almost looks real" I look down and my ears start to feel hot. Moody turns to the board and starts to scribble something on the board. I'm lucky to be a good listener because Moody's hand writing is exactly that, scribbles. I don't want to blame it on his eye patched eye but I always thought that was why.

More students fill the room, including Theo Nott who has his lacrosse stick hanging half way out of his bag. Theo scans the room before meeting at me. He walks towards me and sits down. It's not really unlike him to sit next to someone like me, so he can cheat off us. I won't allow it! If he'll just ask me for help I'll at least think about it...

"Here." Theo holds his hand out like there's something in it. I look up at him and he shakes his head. I hold my hand out and he drops a white origami bird in my hand with 'open me' written on it. I start to open the paper ripping it occasionally.

MEET ME IN THE FORBIDDEN CORRIDOR .

d.m.

I look up at Theo and he shrugs. I stand up and walk up to Moody.

"I...uh...need to go talk to Head Mistress Afults." I say. The bell rings and the last late students walks in. Moody nods and I walk out the class to the forbidden hall way.

It's not as scary as you think it is. It's just an abandoned hall way with empty class rooms. We were told it was forbidden first year but mostly because no prefects are available to watch it. I go to this hallway all the time to tell the truth. When the art classes do their yearly paint of the tree in the courtyard I come in and sit in one of the classrooms for the week.

When I reach the corridor I see Draco at the very end. As I get closer Draco, his costume becomes more apparent as he turns to me. A vampire. His long cloak flows behind him as he paces across the hall, and as he turns to face me. I feel his eyes wander over me. Draco lifts his eyebrows and smile.

"Maisie Waters, skipping class... never saw that coming." Draco teases. Draco holds his hands out for me to grab. I look down at his long fingers stretched out towards me. They're decorated with silver snake rings with emerald eyes. I look up at Draco's gleaming eyes. He's smiling at me and I can't help but to smile back. I grab Draco's hand firmly and step closer to him. "You left so soon this morning."

" I tried not to disturb you." I say quietly.

"You didn't disturb me, that's the problem. I want to be able to walk you out next time." Draco says sternly. Next time? "And maybe next time I can help you find your panties." Draco reaches under his cape and pulls out my pink Monday knickers. I feel my face turn hot. I reach for them but Draco snatches them from my arms length. "Oh no Mai, they're mine now."

"Oh god, Dray." I mumble. Silence falls on Draco and I. "Draco why did you call me out of class..."

"Just wanted to make sure you're okay..." Draco trails off. "And to make sure we were on the same page about what this is...."

"This? You mean you want to keep it a secret." I hiss. Draco says nothing. I let go of his hand letting it swing to his side. "I wasn't going to tell anyone. You arsehole."

Draco crosses his arms in front of himself and looks at the ground. "I'm not trying to offend you Mai-"

"-Well you did." I say backing away from Draco. I throw my hands up and let them hit my sides as I walk away from Draco. What a dumbass, and I'm not even talking about Draco.

[augustheart]

i've been putting off this post because i absolutely adore this guy but!

mr. pecorino "pecky" romano is in need of a new home! he is a rescue pigeon who is at least seven years old as he was rescued in 2015 after he broke his wing. because of this injury he is largely unable to fly due to an inability to get enough lift, but he gets around just fine and has enough flight capability to get from perch to perch in a cage or to different ledges in a coop. he was previously housed with multiple other pigeons and has no temperamental issues that i know of, although he is quite the ladies man who will delight you with his song if you have other pigeons he can flirt with. he also likes to let his feelings be known about dogs, crows, and any other animal he sees, none of which i have seen him be particularly anxious about provided he is safe in a cage or coop away from them.

while he is not especially human social, he is loving enough to coo, face fluff, beak smack, and fall asleep in your hands! i think he would make an excellent indoor pet or a good addition to an accessible loft.

if you're in the oregon and washington area and think you might make a good home for this fine fellow, please let me know!

[crescentmoon-flower]

Rewatching winx season 4 for nostalgia and realizing how wierd some things are

Episode 9

Yes we get it ogron, you want the white circle, no need to keep repeating yourself.

Ah yes Jason queen, I hate him

No musa, friends don't have anything better to do when you're on an important phone call

Thank you bloom for jumping to help

The last time we hear musa be the lead singer in this season :(

Cute artu~

Why didn't roxy have the circle from the beginning

You of all people? What do you mean bloom?

Thank you helia for being the only one with common sense

Sky you can't ditch your job for a surfing contest, you either brandon

Riven and nabu Bonding, awwww

Hah! I take it Sky and Brandon can't actually surf

Stella, please do some couples therapy, you're opinions on dating aren't really very healthy

King erendore? Oh wait I forgot this happened

Flora is right and I loved blooms oh no, she sounds so resigned

Artu is so smart

How exactly does nebula know roxy's name?

You know the first time I watched this I assumed nebula was a witch, forgive me but I think all of her actions here lead to that assumption

Why is Stella getting the vision of roxy?

They walked out so awkwardly

Didn't the girls just leave the bar? Now they're back inside as if they never left

Didn't musa read the book of fairies? She should know about the wings

Hah! Duman's reaction was funny

Yeah beat his ass girl

I find it both odd and yet very realistic that the wizards don't recognise nebula

Oh wow nebula's pissed

Love how all but ogron dodged, shows how his power effects his fighting style

Wait? She waited for centuries? Again with the lack of consistency with the time line people

You know what would have been cool? Roxy transforming into nebula's fairy form

This whole ass fight looks so pathetic

Run away boys, run away

How old is nebula if she was in the book of fairies?

How are defense shields supposed to help?

..... that somehow worked?

Also love nebula talking to roxy out loud while possessing her

How the absolute hell did that work?

Love the personality change, roxy would've totally freaked out if this were the first few episodes

Also love how nobody's questioning the man dressed like royalty with GUARDS in a bar talking to waiter about royal responsibility

Speaking of the royal seal....

Hah! He guessed right

The pawn shop owner must be absolutely baffled

That has to be morally questionable, why did you do that musa

Erendor has very good points, but still whose ruling erakleon?

Couples adorableness, naaw

Also good job riven, your really trying

Surprised nothing broke on that crash

SEXUAL INUENDO!!

This episode is summarised by Sky and his dad are about to cause a political crisis, and Roxy's brain has been stolen by bling.

Episode 10

Roxy is the most realistic character here right now

I love how opposite bloom and roxy are, meeting magic one embraces it the other rejects it

Stella you own a business, of course you work alot

Seriously, how does belief in magic weaken the wizards? They had magic before humanity forgot fairies

What's up with musa?

Stella, please don't, at least one person will think your insane

Wtf tecna? What frequencies? Do humans give off frequencies when in trouble, what are you searching for panicked screeches?

Thank you for asking the good questions musa

.....bloom..... WHY DID YOU PUT ON THE CIRCLE WHEN YOU SAW WHAT IT DID TO ROXY?!

No, no, turning a pet into your double to take care of a shop is a terrible idea, aisha

There is no need to apologise for perfectly reasonable reactions roxy

Isn't the loft directly above the shop? Where is musa going to meet riven?

Aaaaaaaaawwwww nabu's shirt is too big in such a cute way!

That man in the background looked so confused why the girls presented the door to tecna

The girls in the shop vaugly remind me of the trix, wouldn't that have been a plot twist lmao

Haha, this is backfiring so bad!

Why did the girls gasp? The knew Stella was going to say that

Also that guys reaction would probably be mine too

Haha! I already said that someone is going to think they're crazy

I'm not going to coment on the riven/musa drama with Jason here, it annoys me so much

Jason is just so oblivious to all that's happening

Stella already convinced several humans about fairies, just do what you did before?

Roxy is so wise for her age, and so right

Useless mcguffin wings, they could just fly (but I do love the designs)

Noooo, we don't actually hear musa sing?

Safety rule people, don't crowd around a burning building it could collapse and you are taking away the authority's attention

That dude barely even cares he's looking at mythological beings hes just worried about that poor family

The call for help sounds like Stella

The little girl looks like miele

THEY HAVE BUTTERFLY WINGS WOMAN WTF DO YOU THINK THEY ARE, DEMONS?

the wizards are immune to fire, they just walked through it

THAT'S WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT, COLLAPSING BUILDINGS!

just casually going to leave while taking this random girl with us- wonder what the bystanders thought

Super hearing residents

Riven, think before you speak

Jason, don't talk about situations you don't understand even with good intentions

I said the idea of turning pets to doppelganger is a bad idea

[pollylynn]

Title: Consultation WC: 1000

“I’m doing them a favor. I think.” —Richard Castle, Always Buy Retail (1 x 06)

Once he’s finished—nose pressed to the glass wall of his office—making absolutely sure that Meredith actually gets into the cab down on Broome, he has no real reason to head to the precinct. But the precinct is exactly where he heads. He decides to go on foot, figuring the walk in the bright, brisk April sun will give him time to do a draft and polish of the very good reason he definitely has for heading there. 

It’s odd—not that he’s going to to the precinct. That’s not odd in the least. He is in the habit of pushing his luck on that front to such an extent that he’s been googling furiously to determine whether there’s such a thing as a discreet bulletproof vest for the on-the-go writer who is pretty sure boundaries are for other people. The reason—the excuse he’s working on as his feet carry him uptown on autopilot—that’s the odd part. 

He generally sweeps in as though he’s always expected and certainly always welcome. He’ll make the rounds sometimes before he lands in the chair—his chair—beside her desk. He tap tap taps on the wooden frame of the Captain’s door and floats the idea of a Knicks game, a golf outing, the new legal eagles poker group he’s putting together. He glides into the break room to make sure everyone is enjoying their foamy richness or to share his tips and tricks for latte art. But he always lands in the chair, and if he explains himself, it’s purely for the entertainment value of said explanation. 

That’s not what’s happening now, though. He comes up against a stop light and bounces impatiently in place. He rocks from toe to heel and back again. He rolls his shoulders, but he can’t fidget his way out of the knowledge that he is legitimately trying to come up with a reason for his impending darkening of her doorstep. He can’t fidget his way out of the knowledge that he just wants to see her. 

That’s odd, too. Once again, it’s not at all odd that he wants to see her. Oh, he swaggers and postures and makes a great show of broadcasting the impression that he lives solely to annoy her, but he’s not deluded enough to deny in his heart of hearts that he has quite the crush on Detective Beckett. He thoroughly enjoys the ticklish sensation of butterfly wings batting crazily against his ribs when the elevator doors open and he first catches sight of the unflattering fluorescents doing no favors to her adorably unfortunate hair color. He thoroughly enjoys the way those butterflies really ramp up when she cuts him to the quick in one of her regular displays of verbal brilliance. So why is he trying to write his way out of the simple truth that he likes to see her? 

He still has no real idea why when he hits the precinct steps. He has no idea why when he waves to the duty sergeant who reflexively buzzes him through the lobby, when he stabs the elevator button, or when he makes a beeline and drops right into the chair they both know is his. He has arrived, no closer to knowing why than when he left his loft.

She scowls at him without turning toward him in the slightest. It’s another of her many talents. It’s clear she has no intention of acknowledging his presence at all, let alone giving him an opening for one of his patented, highly entertaining explanations. It’s for the best: he still doesn’t have one, entertaining or otherwise. 

“I got rid of Meredith,” he blurts. “I dropped an ungodly amount of money to back some indie film that will keep her tied up for months—years, if I’m lucky and the director has no idea what he’s doing. It’s LA and it’s location shoots and it’s absolutely not New York, and . . .” He runs out of steam as rapidly as he gathered it. “She’s gone. I got rid of her.” 

When the silence has grown to truly monumental proportions, she turns her head at last. She studies him, perplexed. She says nothing, and he wonders if she’s wondering how it is that this is not at all a brag, and it could easily have been. It almost certainly should have been a series of brags about the cash he has on hand, about his puppet master skills. It’s not that, though, and he wonders what she’s wondering. 

“Alexis is relieved.” That’s not a brag, either. It’s defensive. “There was this whole ‘hypothetical’ conversation about how she loves her mom, and I told her that moms always drive their kids crazy, and anyway. She’s relieved.” 

There should be a silent So, THERE, hanging in the air. No. Scratch that. It shouldn’t be silent at all. It should be a full-voice brag. See? Father knows best after all, Detective. It’s not that, though, and with ample data regarding what it isn’t, they seem to be mutually waiting to find out what it is. 

Another towering silence grows. He’s the one to break it. Kind of. 

“Do you think I did the right thing?” 

Her jaw doesn’t drop, though well it might at the question alone. Adding in the sudden smallness of his voice, it’s amazing that it’s not sitting on the scuffed tile beneath her desk. Instead, she looks startled, self-conscious. She turns back to her paperwork. 

“Alexis is relieved, right?” She shrugs with exaggerated lack of interest. “There’s your answer.” 

“Alexis is fifteen.” He flashes a small, bitter smile. “I do actually know that fifteen-year-olds don’t always know what’s best for them.” 

“And virtual strangers do?” She sets down her pen and swivels her chair to face him. She arranges a smirk on her face, but she’s curious. Hell, he’s curious. “Why ask me?” 

“I want to know,” he says, the explanation arriving at last. “I just want to know what you think.” 

A/N: Strange that none of Meredith's million lies ended up being the prompt here.

images via homeofthenutty

[otherpeoplesheartachept-2]

Day 15: Fluff

People wouldn’t believe me if I told them, but Niamh Brody does, in fact, baby-talk to the goats when she thinks no one’s around.

(or, some mindless brobelove fluff)

Length: 608

Warnings: none

Read on AO3 or below :))

People wouldn’t believe me if I told them, but Niamh Brody does, in fact, baby-talk to the goats when she thinks no one’s around.

She stayed over last night and I woke up to an empty bed and the sound of Niamh’s cutesy praises, mixed with responding bleats from one of the goats.

“Look at you!! Growing up so big and strong, such a good boy,” she coos.

The goat lets out a small bleat.

I suppress the cheesy awwwww I want to aw. If Niamh knows I’m awake in the loft she’ll stop.

Carefully, I get out of bed and peak over the edge of the loft. My girlfriend is sat crisscross on the barn floor with the youngest kid. She’s petting him between the wings, and he bumps his head into her chest.

She laughs lightly, and pats his back.

“You are such a sweet babyyy,” she says in a voice at least an octave above her normal speech. “Even if you are a little shit sometimes,” Niamh scratches under the kid’s chin and he flaps his wings so hard he lifts a few centimeters off the ground.

I can hardly handle this.

I descend the ladder as quietly as possible, trying not to interrupt the sweet moment. But the floor creaks once I reach the bottom, and Niamh catches me.

She quickly stands and clears her throat.

“Good morning,” she greets me in her regular stoic voice. She tries to act big and tough but her face quickly turns bright red. The kid squirms in her arms as she scratches behind its ear.

I can’t help the smile on my face.

“Don’t play coy with me, Brody,” I tease, walking closer to my adorable girlfriend and the adorable baby goat in her arms. (She’d hate it if she knew I thought of her as adorable).

“All I said was good morning,” she retorts, but a small downward smile spreads across her face.

“Oh? I could have sworn I heard someone down here saying something about a ‘sweet adorable little innocent babyyy’” I exaggerate her cutesy voice and squish the little goat’s cheeks.

He nibbles at my fingers and I laugh.  

“You must be hearing things,” Niamh says, but she’s wearing her little “kiss me” frown when I look up.

I lean over the kid and press my lips to hers.

The goat starts flying around us as Niamh deepens the kiss. I sigh against her. Niamh runs a hand through my hair so I pull her closer to me.

“You’re so cute when you baby-talk to the kids,” I mummer against Niamh’s lips.

Niamh stops, clearly annoyed at my choice of words.

“You can be cute and a strong handsome butch,” I argue.

“Fine,” she gives in. She pulls me in for another amazing kiss, so I know she isn’t really that upset.

We can’t get too lost in each other, because the kid starts head butting my back with his little nubby horns.

I squeal, and then laugh, batting the bugger away from me.

“He really is a little shit,” I say, reaching for him but the kid flies higher, out of my reach.

Niamh lets out a deep laugh.

I love her laugh, even if it’s at my expense, in this case.

I step back into her embrace, thinking maybe we could just stay here and kiss the morning away.

But the goats have other plans. The kid has flown down and started nipping at my camisole, and I can hear the rest of the herd getting restless.

I place one more kiss on Niamh’s lips, then start the rest of my day.

[heartsburstintofire13ghosts]

Sam’s Tattoos

I did say that I would go into detail about her tattoos, so here we go. Samara has 10 tattoos in total. 1 of which she shares with Aria and Sara, which is a trio friend tattoo. The other did not fit on the template. 

Right Wrist

Samara has Buttercup on her wrist. Aria has Blossom and Sara has Bubbles. 

Left Arm

Sam has always been a lover of musicals. She portrayed Cosette in their high school’s production of Les Misérables five different times. 

Right Ribs

Mothra. Queen of the Monsters. Giver of Life. The Winged One. 

Left Collarbone/Shoulder Area

The TV in the junkyard did not have the best reception, so Horace would rent movies for his young daughter to watch. She grew particularly fond of the film, “The Crow” having also read the comic books that the movie was adapted from. 

She named her rottweiler pup Brandon in honor of Brandon Lee after his death before the Crow was released. Brandon (the dog) survived the Junkyard Shooting, along with his owner. 

Horace was also quite fond of the film. 

This tattoo was Sam’s way of honoring her father. 

Left Thigh

Samara visited the library a great deal when she resided with her father and grandfather. JRR Tolkien was one of her favorite authors. 

Crease of Her Right Arm

Dana and Sam had a very deep bond. One of Dana’s favorite books to read to her sister was “Where The Wild Things Are” and she would always pretend to gobble Sam up when she read this part. 

This tattoo was meant to honor Dana’s memory after her suicide

Right Collarbone/Shoulder Area

Dana was in love with Kurt Cobain. She and Sam would eat pizza and lay on the floor of her loft apartment, listening to Nirvana at full blast. 

Lithium was one of Dana’s favorite songs. 

Right Ribs

Samara is also an avid consumer of poetry. One of her favorite poems in the world is "The Old Astronomer to His Pupil." By Sarah Williams. Her tattoo is the poem's most renowned couplet.

Right Thigh

Sam has never been overly fond of Disney movies. However, she did always adore Beauty and The Beast.

Right Shin

The Dark Crystal is her favorite movie from her childhood. She and her grandfather, Andrew, would watch it all the time before he died. 

She still watches it consistently when she is stressed. 

[acommonloon]

Saturday was Neat, Holy Grale, Darlings, and Spring Street's grand reopening.

We nearly decided to go to Cincy on the spur of the moment but the weather was too glorious to spend half the day driving. Instead we spent the day in Louisville.

It was our first visit to Neat. Not much to look at from the street but a visual delight inside with a beautiful old bar back, multiple seating areas with plush chairs, high quality drinks, and vintage whiskey priced by the ounce. I had a tasty riff on a Penicillin with smoked honey instead of a peated Scotch float and a real interesting drink called The Looavul made with Mezcal, pecans, and black walnut liquor. The drink is named for how locals pronounce their city name.

From there, six of us, walked down to Holy Grale. I adore this place! D and I were just there Thursday for a Chimay event featuring Chimay's cheese, five beers, and a glass giveaway. It was our friend's first visit since the Grale completed an extensive makeover and it's a literal church of beer. Next time we hope to drink in the choir loft. Today I drank Westmalle's rich Double and a beautiful Blaugies saison. We shared most of the apps from the menu including the best chips in town with vinegar mayo and curry ketchup to dip, along with pretzel bread and spicy cheese, goose liver pâté on house made rye crackers, and sausage kraut balls. One couple left so we decided D could drive the four of us to another fav, a gin bar called Darlings.

This place is sooo delightful. They always seem to have new and interesting things to drink. How about a Mexican gin!

Our last stop was a traditional neighborhood bar. We've been driving by Spring Street for years, including earlier in the day, on our way to other places. It closed without our noticing but was now open again so it was time. It was a bit chaotic, local football playing above the bar and end of season baseball on near us. Perfect also fun! D had mini corn dogs and we shared two orders of wings with Buffalo and Korean BBQ sauce. Salty krinkled fries and fat onion rings to round out our fried feast. We drank Bells 2hearted with a sour beer follow-up I never bothered to identify. We noticed our bartender from Neat in the place but when I tried to find him later to buy him a drink he was already gone.

Saturdays are the best.

[artificialqueens]

Masters of the Scene, Chapter 20 (Bitney Parent Trap AU) - Veronica 

A/N: Thank you so much to @tumble4rpdr for her absolutely amazing feedback as beta, and to anyone to who left comments and kudos and likes: you guys are awesome, and truly know how to keep me inspired. 

Click here for prequels and previous chapters, or here if you’d rather read on AO3. 

Chapter Summary: Bianca gets familiar with the farm, and they all have an extremely awkward family lunch. 

***

Bianca hated to admit it, but as soon as Courtney was gone, she felt the burden of pressing, immediate guilt being lifted a little from her chest, and she could follow the kids around while acting (and breathing) normally. 

Danny’s room was in no way a ‘baby room’ - it was full of fun, bright colors, joyously reflective of his personality. The overflowing bookcases covering one whole wall showed what an avid reader he was; the dinosaur collection arranged in adorable groups looked, intentionally or not, like multi-species family photos. There was a row of glittering prisms in the windows that cast ever-moving rainbows onto the whole room. 

The kids then showed her the “secret” staircase in the corridor between their bathrooms, which led to a shared loft space. It was basically the world’s coolest indoor treehouse, tricked out like every tween’s fantasy rec room: a giant TV, video games, mini-fridge and popcorn machine, a plush rug, bean bag chairs, mounds of pillows and blankets and cute inflatable furniture. Future den of sin, Bianca noted, while also admiring what a cozy space Courtney had designed for them. 

“Mum doesn’t like us to have too much screen time in our bedrooms,” Danny explained. 

“Good luck controlling that,” Bianca chuckled.

“We’ve told her,” Adore said.

“But also…” Danny gestured around. “Who’s gonna say no to this?” 

Bianca laughed, nodding. Who indeed. 

They continued on. The house was huge, even more spacious than Bianca would have guessed from that amazing kitchen, but it was laid out so thoughtfully, full of personal touches like reclaimed wood, framed photos of the kids at every age, art from all over the world, bursts of color and warmth everywhere. It was a sharp contrast to the cold, sterile interiors Bianca was used to from people with money for this type of space. 

There was a grand entry hall that led into a chic but inviting living room, perfect for entertaining, along with a 16-seat movie theatre. A gently curved staircase led up to several spare bedrooms, in a separate wing from the kids, and another set of stairs led back down into a warm and cozy family room. Next to the library. A library, for christ’s sake. 

By the time they got to the dining room, which easily sat twenty, Bianca had lost count of the number of fireplaces she’d seen. They walked through another living room, this one sunken and half outside. It opened up to a patio with a view of the pristine swimming pool with its cascading waterfalls. 

“The other guest rooms are above the pool house,” Danny said, as they walked past yet another fireplace, “And that’s the outdoor kitchen.” 

He gestured to the other side of the patio, where Courtney was standing in front of a large grill. 

“Hi Mum!” Adore chirped, skipping forward to give Courtney a kiss. 

“Hi darling! Are you all finished?” 

“Yeah, we did most of the house, except your room, but that’s boring.”

“Excuse me, my room is lovely.” 

“Blech, it’s all neutrals.”

Courtney didn’t engage with that insult, just laughed and said, “Well, this’ll be ready in about 10 minutes, if you wanna go up and see the garden.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want some help?” Bianca asked. 

“No, it’s all under control. Mostly leftovers,” Courtney said, waving dismissively at the colorful spread taking shape on the table, which most definitely did not look like ‘leftovers.’ But she clearly wanted them to back off, so that’s what Bianca did, following the kids around the pool, up a curved stone pathway.

She’d been seeing the gardens in Courtney’s videos for years. It started with a few planter boxes, a handful of fruit trees that were already on the property, and the citrus trees that Courtney planted when they’d first moved in. It was a bit sad and sparse in the beginning, but she’d kept at it, adding new boxes every year, building out the space, planting more and more. Eventually hiring a few people to help when it became too much for one person. 

It looked like the Garden of Eden now. Lush, colorful, bursting with life. They wandered around a bit, meandering around the walkways, checking out the fruit and vegetables in various stages of development. It was so much more impressive than Bianca ever thought possible based on videos and pictures. So much more alive, with bees buzzing and butterflies fluttering about. Birds of every kind were chirping and singing, while a squirrel scampered over the path, darting into the nearby trees. 

It wasn’t lost on Bianca that she’d asked, practically demanded, for Courtney to leave this place behind. This place that she’d been pouring her heart and soul into for so long, dismissed as her plants. 

How could she have done that? How would she be able to express remorse for that? To show that she really meant it when she said she was sorry? Would Courtney have any reason to believe her?

Bianca closed her eyes and breathed in. She could feel her heart beating quickly, the shame and regret almost suffocating, out here in the sunshine. For most people, the fresh scents of life and fruit and flowering plants and vibrant sounds of birds would be soothing and wonderful. For Bianca, they suddenly represented her own personal hell. 

“Are you okay, Mama?” Danny asked. 

“Yeah!” Bianca’s eyes flew open. “Just not used to, uh, being up this high.” 

“Oh. Yeah, but don’t worry. We’re really far from the cliff.”

“There’s a cliff?” Adore asked, eyes wide. 

“It’s like a mile away,” Danny said. “You’re fine.” 

Bianca put her arms around both kids and gestured to a large building on the other side of the gardens, down a gentle slope covered in tall grass and wildflowers. “Is that the famous Barn?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Very nice.” The ‘Barn’ was the space where Courtney had her studio. She knew from watching her YouTube channels that it was where she shot and edited her videos, and also where she had a suite of offices for her nonprofit work. It was bigger than Bianca expected—although at this point, she wasn’t sure why that was a surprise anymore. 

“So, do you want to go see the-” Danny stopped talking as Adore’s stomach let out a loud rumble. “Uh, excuse you, ma’am.”

“Sorry, I’m hungry,” Adore whined. 

“Let’s go check on lunch,” Bianca suggested. 

***

Lunch, as it turned out, was nearly ready. Courtney asked Danny to retrieve some homemade lemonade from inside, and for Adore to get out the plates and silverware. 

“Can I do anything?” Bianca asked. 

“Uh, sure. Why don’t you help Danny? It’s a lot to carry.” 

“Sure,” Bianca said, rolling her eyes slightly. 

“What?” Courtney’s voice had a bit of an edge to it, the ‘t’ sharper than normal. 

“It…just feels a little like when you ask a three-year-old to help mix the cake batter,” Bianca explained, chuckling. “But yeah, I’ll help Danny.” 

“You really think I would patronize you like that?” Courtney asked, jaw clenched slightly. 

“Well, no…” Small talk, small talk, Bianca’s inner voice warned. “No, that’s not what I…”

Courtney turned back wordlessly to the grill, and Bianca felt her stomach drop. She swallowed quietly and stepped inside, racking her brain for ways to change this tense dynamic. When she and Danny returned, Adore was cheerfully setting the table. 

“You know how to set a table?” Bianca asked, surprised. She’d never seen her do anything remotely like that. She set down the pitcher of raspberry lemonade. 

“Yeah, I’m not a moron,” Adore replied flatly. 

“I don’t think you’re a moron!” Bianca said, “I just think you-”

“Don’t know where forks go?” Adore crossed her arms.

“No!” Bianca sighed slightly, not wanting to get into it with her. “You know what? Forget what I said. You did a great job. And the food looks delicious.” 

The table was laden with an assortment of colorful Middle Eastern salads and dips and a big basket of warm flatbread in the middle. If this was leftovers, then Bianca was the next Queen of England.

“Thanks.” Courtney put down a platter of grilled vegetables that Bianca had to assume were from the garden - eggplant, artichokes, zucchini and yellow squash. It looked incredible. 

As they all sat down to eat, she noticed that Courtney seemed to be avoiding direct eye contact with her, primarily talking to the kids. Bianca supposed she couldn’t blame her, but it still stung. She looked down at her plate, picking at her food, her appetite not what it was a few minutes prior. 

Every so often, though, she would sneak a glance in Courteny’s direction—it was hard not to look at her, after all. 

Upon studying her face a little more, Bianca realized that Courtney may not have rushed getting ready as much as she thought, initially. She was definitely wearing mascara. And lip gloss. Maybe even a little eyeliner and blush. That kind of ‘no makeup’ makeup illusion that Courtney had perfected years ago. Seeing it made Bianca feel a little better for some reason—it had to mean something, that she was putting in effort. 

Maybe it was nothing, but Bianca hung onto it, allowing it to ease her fears a bit. A small ray of hope. At least enough that she could eat a few bites of food. 

“So, were you two good tour guides?” Courtney asked, brushing some hair out of Adore’s eyes. 

“I dunno, were we?” Adore asked, turning to Bianca. 

“Fantastic.” Bianca managed to look up at her with a smile. “Although there was one question you guys couldn’t answer.” 

“What question?” Danny asked.  

“In what universe is this a farmhouse?” Bianca asked, raising an eyebrow and spreading her hands. “This, is a palace. An estate. Or if you’re from where I am…a plantation, maybe.” 

“Oh. Well…Mum calls it a farmhouse,” Adore said, shrugging. She bit into her wrap, unbothered by this simplistic explanation. 

“It used to be smaller,” Danny said. 

“Well, the Grand Canyon used to be a little creek. And your Mum used to—”

“Okay,” Courtney interrupted, clearly not curious about the end of Bianca’s sentence. “‘Farmhouse’ refers to the building style, by the way. Not the size.” 

“Hmph. What size would that be, actually?” Bianca asked, raising her eyebrow curiously. 

“What do you mean?” Courtney spooned some couscous onto her plate, still not making eye contact.

“I mean how big?” she challenged. 

“Like square footage?” Courtney asked innocently.  

“Yeah. Square footage.” Bianca wondered why Courtney was so determined to avoid the question. 

“Off the top of my head?” she asked, finally catching Bianca’s eye, a note in her voice that was almost warm, almost teasing.

“Off the top of your head,” Bianca repeated, staring her down.  

“Oh, it’s so hard for me to remember things in feet, my brain is just rooted in metric-��

“Bullshit,” Bianca said, pointing her fork across the table. She knew that she was being pushy, but she wasn’t prepared to drop it, not now. She was a dog with a bone, finally getting Courtney’s attention, even if it was for a stupid bit of banter. “You know the square footage of your custom-built home, Courtney. Come on.”

“Well, you mean just the house, or like, everything?” Courtney asked, that teasing tone still present. “Because-”

“Everything. All the buildings on the plantation.” Bianca drummed her fingers on the table. She was well aware that Adore and Danny were watching them closely, eyes wide, attention going back and forth between them as if they were at a tennis match. 

Courtney swallowed, trying to sound humble as she said, “Umm, I guess, about fifteen…ish.” 

“Fifteen thousand? Square feet?” 

“Yeah. But that includes the barn, with the offices and—”

“Cheers,” Bianca said, lifting her glass, wishing there was something besides lemonade and sparkling water in there. “Well done.” 

“Thanks.” Courtney met her eyes again, nodding, her own eyes luminous, the pride in her expression only surpassed by her relief. But as quickly as it had appeared, the brightness faded and she looked away quickly. 

Bianca continued to watch her, aching for her to look back up once again, but she didn’t. Fuck. 

“Um…these tomatoes are really good, Mum,” said Adore, after a few moments, breaking the tension. 

“I’m glad you like them,” Courtney said with a smile. 

“They really do live up to the hype,” Bianca said, relieved that Adore had given her this opening.

Courtney didn’t say anything to that, simply letting out a small chuckle while she took a sip of her drink. 

“Although, you know, she won’t eat regular tomatoes anymore. Only heirloom,” Bianca grumbled, rolling her eyes to the sky. When all else failed, falling back on playful grumpiness seemed to be her best technique.

“They taste different!” Adore insisted. 

“When I was growing up, we were lucky to get tomatoes that didn’t come from a can,” Bianca told her. 

“Okay, well, sorry you were poor,” said Adore. “What does that have to do with me?” 

Courtney smothered a laugh behind her hand, as Bianca muttered a good-natured, “smartass,” under her breath. 

“Will you tell her they taste different?” Adore whined, pulling on Courtney’s sleeve. 

“They do taste different,” said Danny, coming to his sister’s defense. “Home-grown tomatoes taste way better than tomatoes from the grocery store.” 

“See! Even Roach agrees.” 

“I’m just saying, you’re not gonna die from a grocery store tomato,” Bianca told her. 

“If you’re gonna get tomatoes from the grocery store, especially out of season, then you should go for small ones. Cherry, grape. They taste the best,” Courtney said, unable to resist a teaching moment. 

“I told you!” Adore shrieked at Bianca accusingly, then turned back to Courtney to complain, “She doesn’t believe me, she always buys those horrible big ones with the vine attached.”

“Nooo, those are the worst ones!” Courtney said, hand to her chest, looking at Bianca like she was a serial killer. 

“I know.” Adore folded her arms smugly and looked over at Bianca. 

“Alright, just eat your lunch,” Bianca said, rolling her eyes. Nothing worse than an 11-year-old who was just told they were right about something. 

***

After they finished eating, they all helped bring the dishes inside. Courtney began to put the food away while the kids finished clearing and Bianca started loading the dishwasher. 

“Any special way you want me to do this?” Bianca asked, noting that the dishwasher was basically empty. 

“No, however you think it fits best.” 

“Uh…okay.” 

There was something almost heartbreakingly domestic about it, the two of them in the kitchen together with the kids still outside. Bianca took a deep breath and turned to Courtney, figuring that now was as good a time as any. Plus, the longer she took to bite the bullet, the harder it would be. 

“Listen…” Bianca cleared her throat as Courtney looked up, and she felt her cheeks heat up. She sounded entitled. She swallowed and shook her head slightly, starting again. “Do you think…could we maybe sit down and talk? Just the two of us?” 

Courtney looked at her for a few moments, and Bianca wondered at first if she would say no, before she gave a nod. “Yeah, of course. That sounds good. We should…I mean, yes.” 

Bianca sagged against the counter, relief flooding her veins. 

When the kids came back in with the rest of the dishes, Courtney ushered them upstairs, suggesting that Danny show Adore the story he wrote about camp for school. They both went easily, but not before throwing some coy looks over their shoulders, their eyes full of hope and expectation, making Bianca feel even more nervous than she already was. 

She went back to the dishwasher to finish while Courtney bustled around, brewing coffee and putting some things on a tray. Bianca couldn’t help watching her, how every movement she made was deliberate, almost as if performing an elaborately choreographed dance.

Bianca’s own hands felt clumsy as she glanced back down at the unfamiliar dishwasher. “Are you, um, sure you don’t have a preferred method here?” 

“No, however you do it is totally fine,” Courtney said.

“Is that code for ‘I’ll just rearrange it later’?” Bianca joked.

“No. It means that my life is just as busy as yours, so I don’t micromanage the fucking dishwasher. Not everything is a conspiracy against you,” Courtney snapped, dumping a bunch of ice into a ceramic container, the cubes clattering violently against the side. 

“I-” Bianca closed her eyes. Fuck. Why did she continually miscalculate every move, destroying every tentative peace between them? She felt incredibly stupid as she explained hoarsely, “I was kidding. I-I’m sorry.” 

Courtney was silent for a few moments, just standing at the counter, moving slowly, shoulders slumped and head down. Finally, Bianca heard an audible swallow, followed by a soft, whispered, “Fuck.” 

*

Courtney gripped the edge of the counter, doing her best to breathe. 

Why did Bianca have the ability to get to her like this? Of course it was a joke. She knew that, but it had still gotten under her skin. Because she’d made another joke just like it earlier, about the fucking lemonade. And besides that, Courtney’s nerves were already frayed. Maybe they’d been that way since August. They’d definitely been that way since Bianca had shown up. 

“It was a dumb joke, I’m sorry-”

“Let’s just,” Courtney took another breath. She’d already lost her shit, so she might as well figure out how to reel it back in. “I can…I can deal with the rest of the mess later, let’s just leave it.” 

Bianca turned towards her. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah. I think…the longer we wait, the more…awkward it’ll get,” Courtney said, biting her lip. She looked over at the coffee maker, which had thankfully finished brewing, and moved towards it, filling the carafe, letting the hot liquid crackle over the ice. 

“Yeah. Okay.” Bianca wiped her hands on a dish towel, her movements careful and unsure. 

“I’m just fixing some iced coffee, because I figured-”

“Bless you.”

“-that we could use it,” she finished, as they exchanged a tense smile, before continuing, “Can you grab that tray?” 

“Of course.” Bianca picked up the tray and followed her outside, back to the patio. 

The fresh air would do both of them good; Courtney could sure use it herself. She poured glasses of iced coffee for both of them as Bianca unloaded the plates from the tray and opened the little tin.

“Those are just some biscotti I made last weekend,” Courtney said.  

“Last weekend? Well, fuck that. I demand fresh biscotti, immediately,” Bianca said. Her voice was as drily sarcastic as ever, but her eyes…somehow, it seemed like she was begging Courtney to please take the joke.  

Courtney rolled her eyes, trying to suppress her smile as she pulled the tray over to her own seat. She sat down and slipped on her reading glasses, opening up her notebook and iPad, making sure all her calendars were visible. She flipped to the page with the dates of all the requested visits that she’d sent to Bianca, along with the notes she’d made about possible alternate dates. 

“Okay, I'm glad we’re finally doing this. It’s much easier in person,” she said. When she looked up, Bianca was staring at her with a confused expression. 

“Sorry, doing…?”

“Going over the dates. For visitation. That’s what we’re doing, right?” Courtney asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Well, I…I mean…” Bianca’s confusion turned to discomfort as she twisted a napkin in her hands. She cleared her throat. 

“You are prepared to go over the dates for our visitation schedule, right?” Courtney asked, trying her best to keep the frustration out of her voice. She’d snapped earlier, and she knew needed to keep control of herself, for both their sakes, “What we’ve been promising the kids since this summer? What I’ve emailed you about at least five times since August?” 

“I, um…sort of had another thing to discuss with you before we-”

“Jesus christ, Bianca!” Courtney exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. She couldn’t even look at her right now.  

“I just, I didn’t think that was the first-”

Courtney sighed, taking off her glasses to rub her eyes. When she looked back at Bianca, she could see that she was incredibly distressed, almost panicked—face pale, taking short, shallow breaths, eyes glassy, fingers digging into the arms of the chair. It gave her pause, so she took a deep breath, attempting to temper her initial reaction and back off. 

She spoke as gently as possible, given the circumstances, asking, “So then what…if that’s not what you were planning to discuss, then what did you…want to talk about? 

“I…” Bianca took a slow breath and then said, “Well…I mean, it’s been almost a month. I just, first, I wanted to see how you were doing. Are you…are you okay? I mean, how are you?” She closed her eyes briefly, as if to reset. “Sorry, I just mean-”

“I’m okay,” Courtney said, putting her out of her misery. No use making this more painful than it had to be. “I’ve had better months, but…I’ve had worse months, so…I’ll be okay.” 

Bianca nodded, lips pressed together. 

“What about you?” Courtney asked. “Are you?…Okay, that is?” 

“I’m...uh...September’s always kind of…” Bianca shook her head, giving a kind of rueful smile. 

“Right.” Courtney fought an urge to reach for her hand, instead saying, “Well, your show was great. As usual.” 

“You saw it?” Bianca asked, sitting up a little straighter, eyes brightening. She seemed shocked, which surprised Courtney. 

“Of course,” she assured her. “We never miss it. Danny and I, we always watch the live feed. Now it’s a tradition.” 

“And…you liked it?” Bianca asked. Normally Courtney would assume she was just fishing for compliments if she asked something like that, but she seemed strangely vulnerable, both hands still clutching the napkin for dear life.

“Spectacular,” Coutney told her, offering a real smile. “Honestly.” 

Bianca looked down at her hands for a moment, then spoke again, almost shyly, to say, “I, um…I saved you a dress.” 

“Shut up, you did not,” Courtney said. It was possible that Bianca was just kidding around, of course, but she seemed to be serious. How thrilling would it be if she was? “Did you really?” Off Bianca’s decisive nod, she asked, “Which one?”

A coy smile pulled slightly at the corner of Bianca’s lips. “Which one would you have wanted?” 

“I mean, all of them! Are you kidding?” Courtney said. “I’d be honored to wear any of them.” 

“Okay, but…anything you liked more than the others? That really spoke to you?” There was a glimmer in her eye, a spark of her usual mischievousness back, and in spite of herself, Courtney felt it doing something to her, waking up that part of herself that could never resist. 

“Well…I suppose there was one that-” 

“Aha!” Bianca’s eyes lit up. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’ll pull up a photo of the dress I saved, and you describe the one you’re thinking of. And if it’s the same one, great. And if it’s not…then, you can still have the one I picked, and I’ll make you a replica of the one you liked more. Win-win.” 

Courtney narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What’s the catch?” 

“No catch! I’m just trying to be nice, for once.” Bianca grinned, flashing her dimples, her voice cajoling, “Come on…”

“Okay, fine, fine...” 

Bianca laughed, picking up her phone and scrolling quickly through her photos. “You’re welcome to look up a reference photo too, if you want.”

“I don’t need to.” Courtney took a sip of her iced coffee. 

“Mmm…” Bianca smiled to herself, continuing to scroll. “Got it.”

She placed her phone face down and then folded her hands, looking into Courtney’s eyes and gesturing for her to proceed. Courtney hated to admit how easily she was going along for the ride, but here she was, obeying without another thought. 

“Okay. So, it wasn’t your big show-stopping finale dress or anything. Although I did love that one,” Courtney began, remembering more and more about the dress as she spoke, the way a dream unfurls in your memory the more you talk about it. “It wasn’t even a style I wear that often. It was a cocktail dress, kind of classic Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly style silhouette, off the shoulder, cap sleeves. A tea-length skirt made of layers of hand-painted, sheer fabric. The way it moved was absolutely breathtaking. Then there was a beaded bodice that was so beautiful, so intricate, these swirling blues and yellows with some touches of black and gold around a crescent moon. The colors reminded me of Van Gough’s ‘Starry Night.’ And I’ve always just loved that painting so much…”  

As Courtney’s description trailed off, Bianca flipped over her phone and slid it over, her face dominated by a smug grin. It only took the briefest glance to see that she’d been describing the dress on the screen. 

“No way...” Had she really zeroed in on the exact dress Bianca selected for her? That seemed like an insane coincidence. 

“You think I could ever forget how you went on and on about that painting the time we saw that documentary at The Hammer? And how you wouldn’t stop saying ‘Van Goghhh.’” Bianca exaggerated the Dutch ‘gh’ sound as if she was hacking up a hairball. 

“That’s the correct way to pronounce his name,” Courtney laughed, crossing her arms defiantly.

“Whatever, you sounded pretentious as hell,” Bianca said, grinning. “So…yeah. Of course you have to have that dress.” 

Courtney picked up the phone to look closer, noticing some detailing that she’d missed before, when it was in motion on the runway. 

“Is there embroidery on the skirt?” she marveled. 

“Yeah, on the top layer,” Bianca said. 

“It’s incredible…” Courtney said, zooming in even more to examine the stunning, intricate work. 

“Thanks. Not sure how Van Gogh would feel about the AB stones, but I like to think he’d be cool with the embroidery.” 

“Definitely. I can’t believe I’m going to be seeing it in person,” Courtney said. “Although I’m not sure when I would possibly have an opportunity to wear a dress like this.” 

“I don’t know…the Met Gala?” Bianca suggested.

“You think I get invited to the Met Gala?!” Courtney exclaimed, laughing. Bianca obviously had a very warped impression of what her life was like. 

“Okay, the Oscars then,” Bianca said. 

“Guess again.” 

“Emmys?” 

“Nope.” Courtney shook her head once more. 

“Come on! Creative Arts Emmys. For sure,” she insisted. “You’ve won those.” 

Courtney was a little surprised that Bianca even knew that—probably because the kids had told her, or some news item she’d read in passing. She didn’t linger on thoughts about it though, instead explaining, “That’s a day event. This isn’t a daytime dress.” 

“Hmmm…alright, what about Trader Joe’s, next time you’re buying quinoa?” Bianca asked, then held up her hand. “Sorry, sorry, I forgot, you’re rich now. I obviously meant Whole Foods.” 

“You think I can afford the mortgage, property taxes, and Whole Foods? I have money, but not Oprah money,” Courtney said, winking. 

Bianca laughed, shaking her head. “Fine, Trader Joe’s it is. Costco, if you really wanna save.”

“Ooh, the valley? Dirty.”  

Bianca laughed, her dimples deep in her cheeks, brown eyes shining, and Courtney realized she’d been totally charmed, despite her best efforts to the contrary. 

She lowered her eyes demurely and swiped through a few more pictures. “You know, I’m a little disappointed,” she said, “Because I really thought I was gonna get two dresses out of this deal.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah, I mean, this blue one with the open back…” she held up the phone, sighing wistfully, lashes fluttering.

“Tell you what,” Bianca said, still grinning. “I’ll talk to the designer for you.” 

“Tell her I’m a big fan,” Courtney teased, sliding the phone back towards Bianca. 

“Will do,” Bianca chuckled, giving her a wink.  

Courtney giggled along, but her smile faltered a little when she caught sight of her notebook, lying on the table. “So, um…I assume that isn’t the real reason you wanted to talk.” She gestured to Bianca’s phone. 

“No.”

Bianca’s laughter faded as she picked it up, slipping it into the inside pocket of her blazer. She was probably hot in that thing. There was a long, awkward pause, as she cleared her throat, looking deeply uncomfortable. 

Courtney folded her hands, waiting, trying not to rush her. She obviously had something to say, and needed to work up to it. It wasn’t like her to be nervous, or to have a hard time speaking her mind, so this was surely something difficult. 

“Okay…” she finally began. “I guess…I should start with an apology…"

[foodsies4me]

January Malec fic rec!

Because I'm always weak for a theme, I've decided to take a theme for each small fic rec and we're starting out with wing fics! I'm trying to keep this to one rec per author, but some of them have multiple wing fics, so make sure to go look!

Also, for those who want to add their own recs, please feel free to do so!

One-shots:

Angel Feathers by Eff_Dragonkiller: A fic with a winged Alec that has some interesting world-building regarding the winged Nephilim! Not for those who are big fans of Clary as a character though.

Summary:

Magnus ran his finger down the list of ingredients checking that they had everything needed for the antidote. Manticore horn--check. Newt's eye, Star's tear, Tongue of the devil--check, check, check. An Angel's feather--not check. Not check at all.

Feather of a Nephilim by Bohemian (Linguam): Magnus gets a call from Izzy to warn him something happened to Alec, but she can't tell him what. Finding out his husband sprouted wings while he wasn't looking wasn't something Magnus saw coming.

Summary:

Magnus can feel the bones in Alec’s hand shift for how hard he’s squeezing. “Alexander, please. Whatever it is, let me help you.” Alec frowns down at their hands. His throat works. “Did you know that some Nephilim are born with wings?” Magnus stares at him. Out of all the things he had expected, it certainly wasn’t that.

First step after the fall by sugarandspace: What if Magnus had a different warlock mark and dove after Alec when he was standing on that roof in S2e8? (Yes a Magnus wingfic!!!)

Summary:

Magnus sees Alec fall from the ledge and in a blink of an eye Magnus' wings are out and he's rushing to catch him. When Alec regains consciousness they need to have a conversation - both about how Alec reacted to the spell and about Magnus' warlock mark.

Painted Wings by AceOnIce: A slightly different take on wings. This fic is just fluffy and adorable and sometimes that's just what you need.

Summary:

Magnus wants to make his art project unique so he enlists his boyfriend's help. Alec is the best canvas, and muse, Magnus has ever encountered.

Multi-chapter fics or series:

Set Free by @dreaming-marchling: I suppose most people who like wingfics have already read this gem, but I couldn't write a wingfic list without including this one because I love it so much.

Summary:

Alec Lightwood has wings and he is not okay with it. Magnus is, though. He is totally okay with it and he will drag Alec down the path of self-acceptance kicking and screaming.

Courting Rituals of a Modern Day Warlock by @to-the-stars-writing wonderful like all of the fics by to-the-stars-writing! An everyone has wings fic!

Summary:

After everything with the Soul Sword, after breaking apart and then bringing their lives back together, Alec wanted to do something to show Magnus that he truly loved him. Something that would let the warlock know just how important he was.

Embroidery Rose by tiredfairycake: This one is an emotional rollercoaster. Temporary character death, but it has a happy ending.

Summary:

Alec dies and Magnus is left to deal with it, until seven months later when Alec comes walking into the loft, covered in dirt and blood.

Take These Broken Wings by Molly-Jae: A wings soulmate AU!

Summary:

Alec hadn't wanted a soulmate until he'd nearly lost him. Magnus just wanted a chance at peace (in the world? of mind? -- that's left to be seen).

Fallen Angel by cuubism: What the summary says!

Summary:

“What do you think you could do,” Alec says, “with angelic power?” Alec and Asmodeus make a different deal.

[mediocrewallflow3r]

We’re Stargazing - NSFW Viktor/Reader

Best read while jammin’ out to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8lu8wSpPnKo

sluníčko: Sunshine/Sun ray

 I was thinking we could take a drive, get a little high, maybe- spend the night 

'Meet me at the harbor this evening, bring a blanket,' the scrawled note read. Chuckling softly at Viktor's chaotic lettering, you gently folded the note for keepsakes and put it into your satchel. 'Silly man, trying to be all romantic,' you smiled.

Last night, during your usual evening routine, Viktor had padded towards you in your shared bathroom, softly rubbing his calloused fingers down your sides. "I made plans for us, sweet one," "ou dit?" you responded with your toothbrush in your mouth. "Mhmm," he hummed lovingly, gently moving an eyelash off your cheek. Spitting out the toothpaste wracking your mouth you rinsed your mouth and splashed some water onto your face. Viktor waited patiently, holding out his fore finger with the eyelash resting on it.

"Make a wish (y/n)," he murmured. Turning towards him, you gently blew on his finger. "I wished for-" "Ah, ah, shhh" Viktor cooed whilst gently holding his hand over your mouth. "The wish won't come true if you say it, silly" he chuckled. 'This motherfucker', you huffed. 'How can this man make my knees buckle just by interacting with me?' you rolled your eyes.

"Bed time, Vik" "Can we read a bit first?" he questioned, leaning on you whilst you shuffled towards your connected loft bed. "Sure Vit’a," you chuckled. You felt Viktor smirk against your shoulder. Huffing softly you guided him down onto your shared bed. Shuffling both of you towards the middle of the bed, you reached over towards the wicker table placed next to your side of the bed pulling out your leather notebook.

"Any new poems, specifically, today dear one?" Viktor murmured into your hair. "Hmmm, possibly, I wrote so much today I can barely recall," you hummed. Listening to Viktor softly flip through the filled pages, you allowed your eyes to flicker shut, basking in the small equations, shapes, and sentences being drawn onto your ribcage by Viktor. His lovely accented voice dripping like warm honey, soothing your mind.

Dancing under the stars, thinking about who we are, in the light of the dark

'Don't be late, bring a blanket', Viktor's' note echoed in your mind. Bring a blanket? For what, exactly? Viktor wasn't exactly the most intimate man. Yes, he adored his nightly snuggles but he rarely took part in anything related to sex. He just didn't have the type of confidence to initiate such acts. How you fell in love with such an emotionally stunted man, you don't know. Wheezing softly, you smiled giddily, allowing your mind to at least hope a little (a lot) that just maybe Viktor had decided to let you in completely.

The day went by quickly, surprisingly on your part. You stopped by the lab for lunch but were met by Viktor's empty chair. 'Surely, he couldn't be avoiding me- right?" you pondered anxiously. You allowed the day to continue, pushing away your bitter thoughts with the excitement blooming in your abdomen. Walking out of the academic wing you passed once more by the lab, heading up to your shared loft with Viktor just to see if you could catch him. To your disappointment, he wasn't there.

Huffing, you began your trek to the harbor. In reality, the harbor was an odd place for Viktor to choose. It's nearby the ocean, yes, but it's on the border of Zaun. From your understanding, political agreements with Zaun were not quite peachy. Shrugging off those needless worries, you clutched the plush duvet you'd brought from your shared bed at home.

What you met your eyes with was a sight you'd thought you'd never see.

There he was, your sweet scientist- standing up straight without his cane.

But until then,

Your eyes flickered up towards Viktor's sparkling amber orbs as you gasped. He winked in return, smirking. 'Oh. My. Gods.' your mind supplemented. The cogs in your brain kept turning, desperately trying to come up with answers but alas you were left with none. 'Fuck it, who cares' you thought. "Vit’a?" you whispered. "It's me, dove," he excitedly whispered back. Upon hearing his words, you dropped the duvet onto the worn logs adorning the dock- sprinting towards him.

Viktor caught you.

He didn't fall.

He actually caught you.

Frantically cupping his sharp cheeks you began pressing soft kisses onto his eyelids, his broad nose, and his chapped lips. "I can't believe it!" you shouted happily. Viktor chuckled warmly, spinning you both around in a circle. "I know, neither can I, (y/n)" "Bu- but- how? Why? When? Who-" Viktor gently shushed you, placing his calloused fore-finger on your lips. "Shhhh, no more questions," he wheezed softly. Grinning at him, you allowed your happy tears to drip down onto your cheeks. "Don't cry, love, then I will," Viktor chuckled wetly, thumbing at your cheeks.

You let him slowly spin you both, rocking your bodies back and forth in a soothing motion. "I brought you here to swim with you, actually" Viktor murmured shyly. "To... swim with me?" you questioned. "Correct, dear one," he supplied softly. "I didn't bring a swimsuit, Vik, you said to- and I quote- 'Bring a blanket'", "I know what I said, (y/n)".

'Oh', your heart pounded. You felt deft thin fingers slowly unbutton your academy mandated uniform, rubbing gently at the skin left in its wake. You dared glance upwards, being met by simmering amber eyes and a dark smirk. "You're sure? You want me?" you pondered, nervously. Nodding, Viktor gently bumped his forehead with yours. "Only you, (y/n)".

We're stargazing

'Nothing in my life has prepared me for this, fucking bloody hell,' you thought. "Walk with me, sweet one," Viktor invited. Nervously, you allowed him to tug you towards the frigid water.

Shucking off your remaining articles of clothing- you began wading into the water. Giggling, you splashed some of the dark water towards Viktor. You watched in awe as Viktor tugged off his undershirt and boxers, his sparkling eyes flickering up towards yours. Chuckling softly at your reaction, Viktor began wading into the water, joining you. Huffing, you felt Viktor fit his warm body into the crooks of yours. 'Fuck it's always the lanky ones that pack' you thought, amused.

You felt your face begin to heat up upon feeling Viktor's cock resting near your upper thigh. "Come back to me, sluníčko", Viktor murmured against your lips. "I never left, silly man," you whispered back. "Mhmm- ha-" groaning, Viktor gently ran his frail fingers through your hair, pressing his abdomen into yours.

"Are you sure, you'd want me to be the first for you?" you moaned out, gently grinding down onto Viktor's lean thigh. "Ye- yes- (y/n)" Viktor gasped out, attempting to follow your lead, his hips stuttering often due to lack of full use.

"I've never done this before, Vik," you said, anxiously. "I haven't either," Viktor chuckled softly. "How do we even-", Viktor gently shushed you: "Hush sweet one.". Blushing as maroon as a pomegranate, you waited restlessly for him to make a move. Amused with your impatience- smirking, Viktor caught your lips with his and to your surprise, tugged you underneath the frigid water with him.

The contrast between the frigid water surrounding your body mixed deliciously with Viktor's warm lips.

Thoughts betrayed you. Truly, there was nothing else that could compare to this.

Using his newfound free leg muscles, Viktor kicked his feet through the water- tugging you both towards the surface. Gasping for air, you giggled, bumping your nose underneath Viktor's chin. Huffing softly in amusement, you gazed up as Viktor lifted one of his sharp eyebrows in question. At that, your giggling turned into full hysterical laughter. "What's so funny, hmm?" Viktor muttered darkly, whilst thumbing gently at your nipples. Glancing up at him, you let your hands fall from Viktor's dark curls, thumbing at his cheeks.

"This-" you wheezed, "reminds me of that one scene in Breaking Dawn," you fit in between your laughter. At that, you watched Viktor's brow relax, his chapped lips quirking upwards. "Mhmm, where Edward finally has sex with Isabella, yes?" Viktor murmured. "Reminds me of us," you said teasingly.

Amused by your antics but impatient, Viktor let his hand slowly descend from your chest, tickling your abdomen softly, ending its journey near your groin. Quickly, your laughter ceased. Matching Viktor’s dark gaze you boldly let your fingertips graze over the near purple head of Viktor’s cock. "(y/n)- of all creation-" Viktor groaned out in response to the stimuli. "I plan on shattering that proper language virtue, tonight, my dear scientist." you teased, gently. Applying more pressure, you used your hand to tug at Viktor's foreskin, your latter hand using your fore-finger to circle over the sensitive head of his cock. Letting his head fall onto your shoulder, Viktor nuzzled into the crook of your neck- his quickened breaths warming your jaw.

Encouraged by the soft groans being absorbed by your neck, you quickened your pace- tugging faster and tighter on Viktor's cock; your middle and forefinger squeezing the slit. "(y/n)- fuck," Viktor slurred out, erratically moving his hips in tandem. "Hmmm- yes Vit’a?" you teased lightly. "Mmm- ha- oh Gods" Viktor whined out. Feeling confident, you let the hand massaging at the head of his cock move towards Viktor's chaotic hair; tugging at the roots.

The reaction? Decadent.

"(y/n)- I'm- I'm- ha" "I know, my sweet man" you hummed in response, keeping steady. "Mhmm- no, no no no-" Viktor gently batted away your hand. Anxiously, you allowed yourself to turn your head towards Viktor's awaiting his explanation, impatiently. "I want it to be inside you when I- you know," Viktor stuttered, almost bashfully. "When you what, Vit’a?" you pushed.

You shouldn't have kept pushing.

"Enough you brat" Viktor seethed. Wrenching his hand around your jaw. 'Oh,' your heart skipped a beat. "Just because I'm allowing you to see me vulnerable does not assume that you're in control," Viktor growled. 'Well, fuck-" your mind supplied for you. Frail fingers thumb at your core, pulling you out of your shocked mind. "Vik-" you began. "Hush now- sweet one," Viktor hummed. Massaging your core, Viktor picked you up in his arms. Gasping, you attempted to pull away from Viktor's arms and the intense stimulation towards your heat.

"Vit- Vit’a," you moaned out. "I can walk," you huffed. "Can you now? Well, it just so happens to be that I can walk now, too," Viktor chuckled out. "Sure you can walk, but can you run?" You challenged. "Is that a challenge, dear one?" Viktor quirked his brow.

'Fuck it' you thought.

"Yeah, you know what? It is." You announced.

These constellations are confirmation

One look at Viktor's eyes was enough for you to begin sprinting. Making chase, Viktor began giggling in joy following you in your escape to the dock. The wind whipping your hair across your face, you turned and laughed in Viktor's direction. Through your peripheral vision, you saw the bright stars shining in the sky blurring as you stumbled through the sand.

Casing to the future, Oh, I’d wait for you

Upon reaching the dock, you turned around- smirking at the sight in front of you. Padding over similar to that of a Panther was your sweet scientist, stalking over to you with predator-like eyes. "You brought our duvet?!" Viktor exclaimed. "Why? We need that to sleep on tonight (y/n)!" Viktor scolded. "Whoops?" You tried, cringing.

"You're in for it!" Viktor chuckled darkly, lifting you over his shoulder, stalking towards your shared spread duvet. Dropping you down unceremoniously, Viktor made quick work of your mouth. Ravenously, your teeth clicked on his while he frantically mouthed at your lips. Moaning softly, your hands began the trek through Viktor's happy trail and rested on Viktor's- still- hard cock. "Get on with it Vik," you impatiently groaned. "Be good for me, sweet thing," Viktor murmured into your lips.

Slowly, Viktor began his descent between your thighs. ‘No. Fucking. Way.’ you thought, excitedly. Confirming your suspicions, you felt Viktor’s warm breath puff over your core. Viktor’s calloused finger pad began rubbing gently against your hole, whilst he nipped and sucked gently on your inner thighs. Humming softly, you felt Viktor smirk against your thigh. Viktor fully submerged his head between your legs, nuzzling against your groin teasingly. You felt his lips gently suck around your hole, his tongue slipping out. Immediately, your hands flew to Viktor’s hair. “Fu- fu- fuck!” you shouted out as you felt Viktor’s tongue devour your heat completely. His tongue flicking in and out of your hole, the intimacy of Viktor’s hands rubbing gently over your tensed hips, the intensity of his eloquent tongue.

“Vik- Viktor- ha- ha-” you moaned out. Lifting his head up, Viktor smiled softly at you. “Yes?” he slurred out. “I- I- need-” “I know what you need, sweetheart,”. At that, Viktor returned to his suckling, two fingers breaching your hole- scissoring gently. “Lift your hips for me, love?” Viktor hummed against your happy trail. Whining, you thrust your hips up hoping for more friction. Huffing in frustration, Viktor shifted from softly rubbing at your hips to a steel grip. “Hold still or I’ll stop,” Viktor growled. Returning to his tedious task, Viktor added another finger into your sopping hole and began suckling harder at your most sensitive spots.

‘What is this feeling?’ you thought in amazement- the pleasure in your abdomen reaching a peak. “Vit’a” you shakily called. “Yes, sweet thing?” “What- what is this feeling?”, Smirking up at you Viktor doubled the intensity of his fingers thrusts; gazing up at your pleasure-struck face. Shifting his position, Viktor nudged his broad nose against your ear- amusingly whispering: “I think- it’s what people call an orgasm, dear one,”.

‘Huh, so that’s what that feels like’ you pondered.

“Vik- Viktor- ah” You whined out in overstimulation. “Good, no?” Viktor chuckled, bumping his forehead onto yours. Opening your previously squeezed shut eyes, you continued gasping for air. “Easy, easy-” Viktor cooed, gently massaging your lower abdomen.

Embarrassingly, you could hear the squelches of your walls fluttering still around Viktor’s still fingers. Blushing like a tomato, you hummed gently- relishing in the final waves of your climax. “More Vit’a~” you pleaded, tugging at his chocolate locks. “As you bid, my love,” Viktor murmured.

Tugging gently at his cock, Viktor smeared the remaining pre resting on his head over his length. Chuckling at your wide eyes, Viktor shifted his human hand- weaving his fingers into yours. Viktor’s augmented hand guided his almost purple cock towards your hole. Teasingly, he rubbed his plump head on your core, smirking down at you.

‘Motherfucker,’ you thought, affectionately.

“Vit’a~ please no more teasing-” you whined, annoyed. “Use your words (y/n),” Viktor hummed amused. “ Viktor!” you shouted, thrusting your hips upwards. “I want to hear you say it,” Viktor teased.

My constant patience has been worth it's weight in gold

“Viktor! Fuck me now, please !” you sobbed out. “Hmmm , that’s my love,” Viktor whispered lovingly. Ceasing his rutting against your hole, Viktor finally pushed his dark head into your walls. Whining, you clang to Viktor’s bony shoulders- searching for comfort from the pain. “Shhh, you’re doing so very well, my sweet,” Viktor cooed, kissing the tip of your nose. Squeezing your hand comfortingly, Viktor began to push in quicker.

In protest, you sobbed- hoping he would understand and slow down. “You can take it, dear,” Viktor said shakily. “All the way,” he said against your lips.

‘This is how I’m going to die,��� you thought. ‘I’m going to die on my boyfriends’ massive dick’.

Giggling slightly, you murmured against Viktor’s sharp cupids bow: “What a way to go- impaled on my boyfriends’ massive cock,”. A broad laugh erupted from Viktor’s lungs in response.

“Could I move a little bit? It might make it better (y/n)” Viktor questioned you softly. Nodding into the crook of Viktor’s neck, you saw stars as Viktor gently thrust up into your sensitive walls. Viktor squeezed your hand, gently bumping his forehead onto yours once more: “Is this okay?” Viktor checked in with you, his golden-amber eyes looking into your soul.

‘More than okay, this is everything, what else could you give me?’ your mind supplied.

“Yes-YesYesYes Yes!,” you fit in between your high pitched whines. Shifting your legs, you wrapped your thighs around Viktor. Moaning softly, Viktor began massaging the soft tissue-like area around where your bodies were connected with his augmented hand.

The cold metal feeling contrasted sinfully with the warmth exuding from your love-making. Feeling yourself begin to hit that peak again, you squeezed Viktor’s human hand tightly, requesting comfort through the intensity of it all. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you my love,” Viktor rushed out after a deep groan. Upon hearing that, you allowed yourself to fully lay back- rejoicing in the bright white heat spreading through your body. Curling your toes, you felt as Viktor worked you through your orgasm, grinding gently into you rather than thrusting. To your surprise, you felt Viktor’s (ridiculous amount) of cum slowly oozing out of your hole- making the both of you messy.

Chuckling softly, Viktor cradled your head towards his chest, turning you both on your sides. Cuddling amongst the duvet, Viktor remembered that Jayce had recommended him a “‘Recreational activity to bask in the afterglow with’”. Viktor had wanted to smack Jayce silly with his cane at the time, but, now? He wanted to experiment with the idea.

Get a little high

“Good, no?” Viktor asked, once again- the same teasing voice you had heard when he first asked earlier. Shifting your jaw up slightly, you placed a kiss on Viktor’s forehead, grinning up at his smitten expression. “Yes, very good my sweet scientist,” you huffed out in joy.

“Jayce gave us something to try,” Viktor said, cautiously. “Jayce? You want to try something Jayce recommended? Have you lost your mind Viktor (y/ln)?” “Possibly, I might have,” Viktor laughed.

‘It better not be a damned sex toy’ you thought frustrated.

“He gave me what, apparently the locals call: Shimmer?” Viktor pondered out loud. Sitting up, Viktor tangled his legs with yours whilst reaching for the satchel he’d brought. Carefully pulling out the purplish substance, he brought the odd vial towards your lips. “Supposedly, it relaxes the muscles and makes you feel quite fuzzy- if you’d like to try a bit with me?” “So Jayce isn’t the wild card… You are?” you asked incredulously. “Well, only with you (y/n)” Viktor laughed, wholeheartedly.

‘Fuck it, right?’ you thought.

Enclosing your lips around the vial, Viktor gently tugged your head back- pouring what he considered to be a safe amount, into your awaiting mouth. Then, he brought the vial to his lips and drank, too. Upon finishing his amount of liquid, Viktor plopped unceremoniously down next to you, returning to his role of spooning you.

Maybe spend the night

After some time of dozing together, Viktor gently brought your arm up with his, his forefinger resting on top of yours. “Do you see them?” Viktor yawned out. “See what?” you questioned lazily. “The constellations, my dear,” Viktor responded incredulously.

Thinking bout’ who we are, in the light of the dark

“Hmmm - I do see them,” you murmured into Viktor’s Adam's apple, your eyes fluttering shut. “Sleepy?” Viktor questioned. Humming in response, you felt Viktor chuckle and a kiss placed on your hair. “Tired you all out didn’t I?” he asked smugly, his grin resting on your forehead.

‘Yeah, of course, you did you fucking railed me into the dock,’ you thought, amused.

“Rest now, my sluníčko,” Viktor whispered in adoration.

Allowing your mind to drift into unconsciousness, you smiled when you felt Viktor gently tuck a strand of hair away from your eyes.

We’re stargazing

[chocoholicannanymous]

Concepts of Insanity (Glee)

AN: No proofreading whatsoever. Subject to rewrite if I change my mind about it. Take it or leave it.

Concepts of Insanity

“Kurt? Oh, there you are, good. We have an emergency!”

Kurt smiles a little as he finishes up rearranging the flowers. He adores Isabelle, he really does, but she's a bit...excitable. There's always an emergency, or a disaster, or a catastrophe. So far today there's been four, unless he's miscounting; a lose hem, a missing delivery of non-alcoholic champagne, Isabelle almost fainting from forgetting to eat, and the flowers he's currently fixing not being enough something or other. He's actually kind of curious what it is this time.

He gives the flowers a last look, nods with satisfaction and turns around. The smile on his lips dies the second he meets Isabelle's eyes. This isn't a normal emergency.

“What's wrong?”

“The musicians are here, only the vocalist is currently throwing up to the point where they've called an ambulance.”

Kurt winces. That doesn't sound good for whoever it is. Also it really doesn't sound good for them. Isabelle had gone out on a limb with the small ensemble she'd hired for the event, deciding to make the music more than a background by having some songs performed with vocals. To have the vocalist missing would throw off the setlist. Maybe not enough for most people to notice, but at an event like this? Someone would definitely notice.

Especially since word seemed to have spread.

“I've spent the last ten minutes on the phone, and there's not a single vocalist to be had. This is so bad, Kurt! I'm never going to hear the end of this.”

Kurt hesitates, uncomfortable with voicing his possible solution, but deciding to offer it up anyway. It's Isabelle.

(Plus Rachel will never forgive him if he doesn't and she finds out.)

“I know it's not what you were aiming at, but my roommate is a NYADA student, and I know that most of the songs you picked out is in her wheelhouse. I could call her? If she answers she could hop in a cab and be here in 30 minutes.”

Isabelle looks a bit hesitant, but nods.

“Please do. I'll pay for the cab too, obviously. Check back with me in 5 minutes?”

Kurt agrees and hurries out to a silent space, phone in hand already dialing as he walks. There's no response for his first call, and Kurt leaves a hurried voice mail for Rachel to call him asap as it's an emergency. He then sends the same message as a text before trying to call again. He manages to squeeze in a total of five calls before he has to return to Isabelle, without response.

Maybe Rachel's in the shower again. Or singing. Or on a date with Brody.

“I'm sorry, Isabelle. I couldn't get hold of her.”

“Never mind, I have an idea. Can you do it?”

Kurt stares at her, not quite believing he heard her right.

“Me?” She nods and he shakes his head. “Isabelle, you've never even heard me sing!”

“True. But honey, I know how good you are with fashion. For you to chose music over that you have to be either insanely talented or just insane. So, will you do it?”

Kurt wants to shake his head again. What she's suggesting is crazy. Yes, Kurt can sing, but... His focus on music is more and more looking like insanity. He's just gotten rejected by Carmen Tibideaux a second time, for crying out loud. “Devoid of complexity and depth” echoes through his skull.

Except. This is Isabelle asking. His fairy godmother of sorts. He owes her.

“Are you sure? I'll do it, if you really want, but I'm not going to be anywhere as good as whoever you'd hired,” or Rachel for that matter, “and I don't want to ruin this for you.”

“You are going to be amazing. Thank you, Kurt, you're a lifesaver!”

And with that Isabelle floats off, leaving Kurt in a dazed state. He's going to panic, sooner or later, but for now he's still too stunned for it.

Right. His first action has to be to talk to the ensemble. The plan was to have the vocalist on three sets of three songs throughout the evening, but he's not entirely clear on what numbers had finally been picked. He will probably need to review lyrics up until the guests arrive, provided he can actually manage all of them. He's got a good range, yes, but that's not everything.

Oh, and he should swing by Isabelle's office and nab the blue west he'd spotted earlier – he'd dressed to fade against the wallpaper, not to be seen.

The first set goes well, as does the second. By the third and final he's lost enough of his nerves to let Isabelle drag him out on the floor instead of going off to hide as he'd initially planned. Several people drop by to talk, and he gets more than a few compliments. Maybe it's more about looking good to Isabelle than about actually liking it, but Kurt will take it anyway.

“So, you must be not just a talented singer but talented in fashion too for Isabelle to have taken you under her wing. Do you study fashion or music?”

The woman, Nadia something, asking sounds genuine and so Kurt gives her a small smile and answers as pleasantly as he can.

“Neither actually. I'm applying to NYADA though.”

There's a flash of something in her face, but Kurt can't quite make out what it is.

“For the spring semester? Ah.” She hesitates, sends a look towards where Isabelle is talking animatedly about something, and then looks at Kurt again.

“Can I be honest? Carmen Tibideaux is a very talented woman, in everything she does, and she's got an eye for picking out talent. However, she's also got a bit of a reputation.

“She loves to discover new talent that others overlook. Except every now and again she'll go about it in a rather underhanded way. She'll have someone audition, someone talented but a little raw around the edges. Someone with a ton of talent but a weak resumé, often with a little less self-esteem than most performers. She'll praise them and then turn them down. Most of the time they'll come back, looking for a second chance – she said they were great, right? Surely that means they'll get the part sooner or later, if they just approach it right.”

Kurt swallows. It sounds a little too familiar for comfort.

“Sometimes she'll turn them down both a second and third time, and then she'll put them on the spot, giving them another chance as long as they step out of their comfort zone and perform to her standards. And then she'll take them, and she'll own them. They'll go through their whole careers claiming they owe it all to her.”

She looks Kurt in the eyes, sincerity radiating out of her – but Kurt knows how little that means, in these circles – and a kind expression on her face.

“I'm not saying that's you, but for you to be applying to the spring semester, with your level of talent... If she's doing it to you, you should know you're not the first, and I doubt you'd be the last.

“Any school would be well served to have you as a student, I think. I already know you're talented, and as I know Isabelle I also know you have to be hardworking. Plus, seeing as that ensemble always works with a female vocalist I'm assuming something happened to have you step in at the last minute, meaning you stand up to pressure.

“NYADA is not the only school in New York for a young man like you, and I'd argue that it's not the best either. Think about what I've said, will you? And thank you again for a very enjoyable performance.”

It's only years of pretending in the face of bullies and a worried father that allows Kurt to pull of a believable goodbye and graceful exit. After this he's definitely hiding in Isabelle's office, damn it.

When Kurt comes back to the loft it's late and he wants nothing more to fall into bed, nighttime routines be damned. But Rachel's sitting on the couch, waiting for him judging from the expectant look on her face.

“I tried to call you.” It comes out a little flat, but Kurt doesn't have the energy to pretend. He needed her, called an emergency damn it, and she hasn't even texted him back in the six hours since his frantic calling.

“I heard, but I was busy practicing my number for tomorrow.” She doesn't even look sorry.

“Oh? I thought you said you didn't have any assignments for tomorrow.” That was why he'd felt safe calling her, after all.

She just waves a hand, clearly not too bothered.

“Nothing official, no, but that's no reason not to be ready to perform. I'm sure there will be an opening for me to dazzle my classmates.” And she goes on to describe the songs she's considered, and who's done them, and why her version is better, and Kurt just...tunes her out.

She hasn't even asked what he wanted. It's as if the thought hasn't even passed her mind. Well. If she's not interested then he's not going to waste his time telling her – especially not since she's bound to get upset over losing an opportunity to perform for an actual audience. He's also not going to waste his time listening to her go on about what she'd done instead of checking in on him.

“I'm going to bed.”

“Kurt! I need your input on this, surely bed can wait a bit?” When he shakes his head  her face hardens. “Fine, be that way. NYADA is hard, you know. It takes dedication. Maybe if you showed a little more of that you would have gotten accepted.”

Kurt shoves down the desire to slap her and bites out a “goodnight” before stalking off to bed. He can't believe she went there. Oh wait, he can. It's so Rachel, to just look at herself and ignore everything else. Show more dedication? Devoid of complexity and depth. Fuck her. Fuck them both.

Kurt had knocked his audition out of the park. Rachel and madam Tibideaux both had admitted that. Meanwhile Rachel had choked. Yet he'd been rejected while Rachel fucking Berry swanned around NYADA claiming to be dedicated. She never should have gotten accepted based on her audition. And somehow he just knows that there's no way she'd admit that Kurt should have been given that spot, not her.

As for madam Tibideaux and her “I rarely give anyone a second chance and if I do it's on my terms”... Bah! Rachel had harassed her way into her second chance. Hell, she'd recruited several others to also harass the madam on her behalf.

But somehow Kurt reapplying was the foul thing here. Right.

Maybe it was time he looked at options other than NYADA. That woman at the vogue event, she'd said that other schools might be a better fit for him. She'd sounded like she knew what she was talking about. Unlike Kurt, honestly, who'd pinned his hopes on NYADA based on Rachel. Hindsight has him questioning if he'd been slipped something, because leaving his college education up to whatever Rachel wanted? Insanity.

Well. Insanity is doing the same thing over again and expecting a different result, right? Clearly it's time to change his approach.

O--o---o--O

A week later Rachel comes home from the NYADA Winter Showcase bubbling about her success and how she's taken them all by storm. She makes a snide comment or two about how Kurt should have been able to see it for himself, had he taken the ticket she'd gone through so much trouble to acquire for him instead of doing whatever (it's called work), and Kurt just nods. He doesn't really care, but. He has to at least pretend to listen to preserve peace in the loft.

“Oh, I almost forgot! Madam Tibideaux asked after you.”

Kurt stills like a dog scenting prey. This he wants to hear.

“Oh?”

“Yes, apparently she was considering giving you another chance at applying. I don't know why she had to do it tonight, as it's for NYADA students and you're not, but she did. You should probably contact her. If you apologize properly she might still be open to it.”

Rachel looks at him, waiting for a reaction and clearly not pleased with what she's seeing.

“Well?”

“I'll think about it, Rachel. Calm down.”

And he will. Only he's not too eager to apologize to madam Tibideaux, or give her another chance to toy with him and probably reject him (he didn't show up for what she had planned, after all). It all sounds very much like what Nadia described at the vogue event. He listened. He might not have liked what he heard, or wanted to believe it, but he listened. In more than one way.

Over the past seven days he's written half a dozen applications to various music schools in New York, and sent them out. His current favorite is the New School, where a tour of the campus has given him a very good vibe. He'd be happy there, he thinks, and they might be happy with him. At least that's his take from meeting a couple of faculty members, one of the more prestigious of which just so happens to be Nadia.

Who would have guessed that doing a favor for Isabelle would lead to this? He might just owe her even more by now. Fairy godmother indeed.

~ The End ~