#Doc watches Red Garden

[docholligay]

This is exactly the brand of optimist I am! As long as you're still breathing, there's always a chance that things can get better. You just get the fuck up, and try again. I've been knocked down by a slamming door plenty of times in my life, but then I just...picked myself up and went back in.

I am not the brand of naive optimist, where you're like, "Oh everything will be fine if I just sit here and be cool" no, that's ridiculous. And neither am I the brand of surrender weakling who's like, "Oh, well, there's nothing I can do I'll just sit here and watch the bad thing happen, boo hoo." There is a middle path, where everything may not work out, but some things can work out, and some times, you can make the bad thing less bad.

I am the kind of optimist that believes that the choices we make matter.

[ange1heavensent]

College!Ellie Brings You to Joel’s Farmhouse in Texas for the Summer -Headcannons

:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

w/c ≈ 1140

:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

☆Ellie is nervous but excited as she drives you down long country roads to Joel’s farmhouse in Texas. She’s been looking forward to this trip for weeks, wanting to show you the place she spent so much of her life and, more importantly, introduce you to Joel. It's a huge deal for her to bring you home. The nervousness is written all over her face, though she tries to play it cool.

☆The reality of farm life hits quickly. On your first day, Joel hands you a pair of gloves and gives you a rundown of tasks you’ll be helping with: feeding the animals, harvesting vegetables from the garden, and assisting him with odd jobs around the house. You weren’t expecting a summer of manual labor, but the way Ellie grins at you makes it worth it. Ellie, of course, helps out too but is more inclined to sneak off with you whenever she can, convincing Joel that she's “just showing you around.”

☆The next day, Joel takes you into town to get a pair of proper cowboy boots. He raises his eyebrows at your low-top Doc Martens, chuckling softly. "Those ain’t gonna last long out here," he says with a knowing grin. You spend the afternoon at a local store, where Joel helps you pick out a sturdy, well-worn pair of boots that actually fit in with the work on a farm. Ellie watches from the side with a smirk, making jokes about how you’re becoming "one of them."

☆When Joel sees Ellie’s new eyebrow piercing for the first time, his reaction is immediate. He narrows his eyes at her, his expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. "What the hell is that?" he asks, though you can tell he's not really angry, just playfully irritated. Ellie grins at him, shrugging nonchalantly. "Got it like a month ago, looks good right" she says, like it’s no big deal. Joel rolls his eyes but doesn’t say much more. You catch him later, glancing at Ellie’s piercing with a small, hidden smile, though he’ll never admit he secretly thinks it suits her.

☆Ellie insists on being the one to drive you everywhere in Joel’s beat-up truck. The truck is ancient, with worn leather seats that creak, an air freshener that smells like a mix of pine and motor oil, and a radio that only catches country stations. Ellie loves it though, she drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh as you cruise down dirt roads, dust swirling behind you. You watch her in admiration as she taps her fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music.

☆Ellie starts laying her Texas charm on thick, especially when you’re alone. She exaggerates her accent, drawing out each “sugar” and “darlin’” with that slow, playful drawl just to watch you blush. She finds it endlessly amusing to tease you like this, especially when she calls you pet names in front of others, making you smile and roll your eyes in mock annoyance.

☆It’s underneath the vast Texas sky you and Ellie go to unwind each night. After long days of work, you and Ellie find yourselves lying out in the open fields, fingers intertwined as you gaze up at the stars. Ellie points out constellations with precision, her voice soft yet filled with excitement as she names each one. She talks about the myths behind the stars, of distant galaxies, and other wonders of the universe, drawing you in with every word. You listen in awe, occasionally sharing a quiet joke or stealing a kiss, your laughter mingling with the peaceful sounds of the countryside.

☆On the Fourth of July, you drive into the nearby city with Ellie, Joel, and Tess. The smell of fair food wafts through the air as fireworks begin to crackle above you. Ellie pulls you closer with every explosion, her arm wrapped around your waist as the sky lights up in bursts of red, white, and blue. It’s a rare, peaceful moment with everyone together, the sounds of laughter and celebration mixing with the warm night air. You catch Joel watching the two of you with a soft smile, seeing just how happy Ellie is.

☆Despite her usual boldness, Ellie becomes more reserved with public displays of affection around Joel. It’s not that she thinks Joel would disapprove - he’s always been supportive - but there’s something about showing that kind of vulnerability in front of him that makes her feel awkward. Instead, she sneaks in small gestures, a hand on your back, a quick kiss when she thinks no one is looking. Keeping most of her affection behind closed doors.

☆After a long day on the farm, you and Ellie find yourselves sneaking off to the barn for some privacy. The air is warm, hay beneath your feet, and the soft glow of moonlight filters through the gaps in the barn’s wooden boards. You’re mid-makeout when the barn door creaks open. Suddenly, Joel steps inside, immediately freezing in place when he sees the two of you. He clears his throat awkwardly, looking everywhere but at you two, before mumbling, "I'll uh... be outside," and quickly backing out. You and Ellie stare at each other, wide-eyed, before bursting into quiet laughter, trying to recover from the embarrassing moment. Ellie teases you about how you've officially broken Joel's ability to look her in the eye for the rest of the trip.

☆Mornings are spent in the garden with Tess or Joel, picking vegetables or watering plants. The work is slower and more peaceful than dealing with the animals, and you enjoy the chance to learn from Tess, who teaches you little tricks about gardening that Ellie never seemed to care about. Ellie lounges nearby, watching you work, occasionally offering to help but mostly just admiring you from afar with a lazy grin on her face.

☆While farm life involves hard work, it doesn’t take long for Ellie to find you more often than not cuddled up with the sheep instead of actually doing your chores. You’ll disappear for hours, only to be found in the barn snuggled up to a particularly friendly sheep. Ellie teases you about it, but secretly, she loves how gentle and soft you are, how even the animals seem drawn to your warmth.

☆It turns out Ellie has a ridiculous fear of the hens on the farm. One morning while feeding them, you watch in disbelief as she freaks out, practically running away from the clucking birds as they flap their wings at her. You laugh so hard you can’t stand, holding your stomach as tears stream down your face. Ellie glares at you, but the corner of her lips twitches up, seeing how happy you are here.

:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)

[whorrorbellee]

FLAWLESS

warnings:smut, drug use. 18+ only please The bear but it's actually just linecook!Aemond x hostess!reader.  porn w a plot.

no beta we die or whatever

2014-7:40 Pm. 

You stand at the hostess stand, looking over the Ipad for reservations, you're absolutely swamped, it's a Saturday night in Knightsbridge, London. Barely seconds pass before the phone rings again, it's the same conversation you've had every weekend for the past year. “Sorry we’re fully booked!” 

“Do you know who I am?” 

“Yes! And here at RedKeep we thank you for being a loyal customer~” 

“I want to speak to the manager!”

 “Sorry the managers not here right now”

“Then who's next in charge?” Queue you, grabbing Daemon from the office, where he completely undermines what you're saying to the customer, allowing them to take a reservation from some poor couple who had saved up their money to taste the food from RedKeep, because it is good for business. 

Keep the loyal customers, he says, fucking asshole. You watch their smug faces grin as they walk in, pressed white shirts and silk dresses they didn’t fish out the bin from the local Guild care. Sometimes you smile and make your accent slightly deeper as you lead them to their seats. Other times you let them know it's you and lead them to the table directly by the bar, letting them hear the utter nonsense that Criston and Aegon spill behind the bar all night. 

But you always retreat to the back for your five minute smoke break, snatching the Marlboro reds from the office, Daemon winking at you as you shove your coat on in the winter. You let yourself breath in the only thing that keeps you going through your shift, music blasting from the shitty headphones that came with your phone and then crush half of it between the sole of your black doc martens, straightening out your black silky blouse, and wandering through the kitchen back to your stand, where you greet another customer with a smile faker than the diamond rings that protrude off the women's fingers.

You rub the tiger balm into the crook of your neck in the changing room, its 10:00 pm, kitchen closed about half an hour ago, and the chef’s are scrubbing the floor down on their knees, you thank god the only thing you have to do is inform Daemon of the reservations for the next week, fully booked until next august, they usually go down about then, people retreat to France and Italy for summer. Your shifts go down and you tutor rich brats who are failing their GCSEs. Spending summers writing essays about Macbeth for fourteen year olds who find nothing better to do than take their daddy's golf cart for a ride around their ridiculously huge back gardens in sussex.  

You hum to yourself, slipping of your blouse, the door opens and then is slammed shut. You turn, half naked in the changing room, your locker swinging open, Aemond stands with his nose pressed into his locker, you change into a band shirt and pleated skirt, pulling on high denier tights. “Are you coming tonight?” he whispers, it's soft, you watch him pull out his bag as you re-lace your boots. 

“Yeah, did Aegon get the weed?” you ask quietly, boots thumping against the floor as you stand, you grab your backpack from the floor, shutting your locker. 

“No Cregan did” Aemonds back ripples as he pulls on a black shirt, you watch his tattoos shift under it, he grabs his motorcycle helmet out of the locker, eye shifting to yours. You go to stand next to him. He pulls out a pack of Marlboro reds, original packaging, you wonder if they're fake, but the Polish words stare back at you, “want one?” he slips one into the corner of his mouth, pulling on his jacket.

You swallow, “Yes please” you take the cigarette and push it behind your ear, walking to the door. He follows. You push open the door, stepping out into the hallway, Daemon stands in the kitchen watching Rhaenrya sharpen the knives. You still refuse to believe they were ever married, her dad and him were such close friends it was borderline Insestuous. “I'm glad Cregan got it, Aegon always choses really weird strains, like unicorn poop? What is that?” 

Aemond shrugs and follows you out the back, you wave to Daemon and Nyra, door slamming behind you. Cregan and Aegon wait by your car, its scratched to fuck. From where Aegon had slammed the door into the tree. You don't even know why you own a car anymore, parking is so expensive in London, you only use it to get to work and home. You watch Aemond shove his helmet on and then leave the car park. Unlocking your car and letting the boys pile in. 

Cregan hits his head on the ceiling and Aegon falls into a mess of giggles in the back. You breathe in the scent of cherry, air freshener hanging from the mirror, Some arctic monkey's song comes on from the aux. You look to your left, Cregans on tinder replying to some bird. It would be rude to call him a slut but he gets around, he got some bird up north pregnant and now he has to send up money every month for a two year old he barely sees. You pull out, switching gears before starting your journey to Aegon's place it’s about half an hour drive into camden, you pass the punks on the bridge and pull in to the slip where Aegon's flat share is, he lives Aemond and a bunch of hippies that sell vintage clothes at the market. 

You run to the corner shop first, buying a bottle of cheap vodka and a diet coke. Then you walk back down the dark street, lighting the ciggie that Aemond gave you, a tote bag heavy on your shoulder, passing the bike and slipping down the side of the building opening the gates. The smell of weed hits you almost immediately. Cregan sits legs spread on the rattan furniture that Aegon stole from someone's front porch last summer. You don't know why he does it, his mum literally owns the restaurant. He earns more than enough. 

You slide up next to Helaena , she leans her head into your shoulder for a moment and then leans back, thumbs padding against her cracked iphone 5, Cregan hands you the joint its some cali strain this time, you rarely smoke. But Saturdays at the RedKeep are actually killing you. Aegon pulls out his speaker and decides to blast drum and bass. You steal the aux and play cigarettes after sex. Falling into the rattan sofa, pulling your Northface jacket around your legs, its fucking cold. Aegon's wearing his dressing gown and hoodie as he stands out the back door. You don't even know why you're in the garden, an hour passes and you find yourself sweating on the sofa, legs intertwined with Aegons as he spews on about some weird conspiracy theories; dragons being real, the lizard people shit. You talk about the ghost house when you lived in the isle of white for a year. And then you've had enough of talking so you head up to Aemonds bedroom to listen to music. 

Your socks run up the carpeted stairs, pausing outside Aemonds bedroom, you knock and hear him grunt a yes. You practically throw yourself into his bed, your phone bouncing from impact, he smiles at you, and you look at his mac playing on the bed, he’s watching reruns of misfits before it gets bad. 

“You know, Aegon always reminds me of Nathan? I can't watch it without thinking about him.” You sigh,“it's a shame because Robert Sheehan is really fit” Ameond hides a laugh, he's different now. He used to light up a room with his quick wit. But now he’s buried into himself, he just keeps retreating and retreating. You used to have this weird thing between you. It was all longing looks and brushed knuckles. He’d follow you outside on early morning shifts to have a ciggie, making you laugh, legs pressed against each other on the staircase. Sometimes you’d bring him coffee and he'd make you one of those fruit salads with all the fruit scraps, slices of mango and strawberry tops. Nights spent outside nursing a joint while Aegon sings incredibly loud in the lounge. No one was surprised when they saw you two getting closer, it's like fate really. Line cook and hostess. If it wasn't Jace it was going to be Aemond.

And then the accident happened. It wasn't Luke's fault, it really wasn't. Something had split on the floor, Luke wasn't wearing the proper shoes yet. He was just about to start his shift, so he slips, grabs for Aemond, His knife in hand just about to chop something, they both fall to the ground. You remember coming to grab Aemond for a cigarette and there was just blood everywhere. All over the white tiles. You remember thinking that he had spilt some kinda wine sauce, nearly laughing until he had sat up and his face looked like it was falling apart. He was shaking, too afraid to cry, and Luke was sent home. 

It was one of those slow days. So you had shoved him into the car with a napkin pressed over his eye. Taking him to A&E for stitches, he looked so different when he came out. He smoked a cigarette in your car with bloodstained hands. You hand squeezed his thigh as you took him home. Then days later you had picked him up from the hospital. White eyepatch over the gaping hole. They removed his eye incase of an infection. It wasn't salvageable, he had sliced right through the cornea. 

He wasn't at work for weeks, you remember standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting for him to come down and join the others, aegon had pulled you away after an hour. Too shy to head up there yourself and then months later you had taken a joint and pringles up to his room. He was just staring out the window, watching the sunset as Helaena  spun around with Cregan. 

“How was work?” he asks, you hand him a vodka coke, swinging your legs under yourself. 

“Fucking terrible, Daemon did it again” your hands runs through your hair. You look at Aemond, you can barely even notice the difference with his fake eye and real one, they got it spot on. “It pisses me off so much, like no wonder we aren't getting any new customers. When he keeps cancelling the bookings” Aemond shuts his laptop, he gets up and grabs a record from the pile in the corner, the needle hits the vinyl with a hum, it crackles around the room.  He's so different from his brother, you wonder where he gets it from. He's just softer. 

You miss his touch. He lies back down on the bed, hands over his heart, you're on your stomach, watching him breathe slightly, you wanna reach out and touch him, he watches you hesitate. “Sorry” he mutters. He runs his hand through his hair. Your eyebrows furrow, he looks away. 

“Why are you sorry?” you ask, you lean into your hands and watch him. Waiting for an answer. 

He pauses, chewing on his lips, and then his face settles, his lips back to the perpetual pout. “I know we had this thing between us, but you don't have to keep it going because you feel sorry for me” 

“Huh” your eyebrows raise, you almost wonder if he's joking, you wait for him to crack a smile, “ I~I don't know what to say Aemond, I don't feel sorry for you” you groan, your hands smush your face together and then you plant yourself into the side of his body. You feel him stiffen and then his hand comes back to smooth over the small of your back. Your face heats. “I ~ oh god” you look up at him watching his eyes twitch, “I always felt like you were just playing along with this whole thing, we had” you shift, pushing yourself onto your knees. “I've have this really stupid big crush on you, since I had the panic attack out back and you sat with me for twenty minutes even though Nyra was shouting at you.”

He sits up, your jaw shifts side to side, you wonder if you should just escape downstairs and sleep with Cregan instead. His hand reaches out to touch your thigh pulling back. He lets out a huff. “You’re fucking with me” he shakes his head. You shake your head back smiling.

“Wait a sec” you grab your phone and swipe back to a conversation you had with Healana months ago, you hand it to him. Watching his eye sweep across the messages. He smirks, and then scrolls down, your eyes widen, he laughs. 

“You can stop scrolling now” but he continues anyway smirk falling into a smile, “Aemond!” your own smile falls, “ Aemond, please stop scrolling” you grit your teeth. Your hand reaches to snatch your phone, But he pulls it away from you, you climb over his body hand on his shoulder, reaching out to grab at your phone. You feel yourself lose balance, you begin your descent onto his floor, but his arm grabs around your waist and pushes you back onto the bed quickly. He’s hovering over you, one arm on the bed the other lingering around your waist. 

“He’s gonna be the death of me” he smirks down at you. 

“Shut up” you huff, you bite your lips to stop you smirking, feeling heat rush to your face. You look up at him, watching his eyes glance down to your lips, you look at his. You’re so fucking high, and its not from the drugs. His hand brushes against your hip. Fingers pressing into the flesh, your skirt is flipped up, you don't even realise. It doesn't even matter because he’s already crashing his lips on your own. It's quick, chased and hard. You move together like you're running out of time, one hand brushing against your jaw the other pressed into your hip, you whine, hands running up his neck to his jaw, you're pulling him closer than what’s physically possible. 

He goes to untuck your shirt from your skirt, you part and pull it off over your head quickly, he takes in the curves of your body, tracing muscle and moles. “Nearly killed me today, walking in on you like this” you smirk under him, his hand brushed against your chest clad in a black lacy bra. You press his hands into your chest, he gropes and needs, his lips running down the column of your neck, you sigh under his touch, teeth grazing, lips nipping. 

Pupils blown, Aemonds hands fingers graze down from your chest to under your skirt, you pull him in for another kiss, teeth clashing together. Phone forgotten by the side of you. You feel his hands run down your legs, a finger hooks under the waistband of your tights, you lift your hips, propping yourself up on your elbows as he slides them down your legs, you part, standing and shifting them off. Aemond sits back and watches. The record crackles repeatedly through the speaker, and you lean down to pick one out. Carefully putting the vinyl into its sleeve. Needle back down, the music starts. “Your such a cliche” 

‘She planned ahead for a year… He said let's play it by ear’

“Shut up”,You slide yourself back into aemond’s arms, his hands run down your bare skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps, your own run down his chest and then tug at the shirt he wears. He pulls it over his head before you know it. Your hands trace the pale freckles skin, pressing wet kisses down his throat, he slides a hand around your thigh, pulling you to straddle him. He pulls your chin towards him, meeting him in another heated kiss.You moan as he grabs at the flesh of your ass, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your back arches, your chest pressing against his. He trails his lips across your chin as he rolls both of you over, his hand grazes your inner thigh and you wrestle your skirt off quickly. 

He sticks his head in the crock of your neck, kissing tenderly. Hand brushing under your panties, he cups your cunt, swiping a finger through your folds, “Shit your wet” he pants, you feel him smirk against your throat. “This fo’me?” you nod your head, eyes half shut as you stare at him. Lips bruised and pouting. He eats up your whines with his lips as his finger traces your clit, your hands brush against his neck and then grip his hair. He slides a finger into you with ease. You moan into his mouth. He makes a come hither motion and slides another finger inside of you. Your back arches and he groans, pinning you into the bed. Your knee slides up and brushes against his hardness. 

‘Youre a doll, you are flawless ’

He stiffens, movements stilling. You smirk. His hands leave your body and you meet his lips again, hands brushing against his groin. You pull at the belt buckle. Pulling away from him to see what you're doing, he pulls your panties down your legs, head buried in the crock of your neck pressing hot kisses onto your skin. You fumble and then pull his trousers down, you can see the outline of his cock through his boxers. He grins down at you. You palm at his cock, watching him through your lashes. He sheds his boxers, you run your hand down his length loosely, thumb brushing over his tip. You watch him whine. “Condom?” 

“I'm on the pill.” You hum.

He pulls your body towards him, your crotch meeting his thighs, he leans closer. The head of his cock brushing past your folds, it feels like hours spent teasing you and then suddenly he pushes into you, feeling you stretch around him. “Shit your tight”,your hands grip his shoulders, mouth gaping open at how full you feel. 

“Fuck Aem” He begins to move slowly, you feel every inch of him, every vein brushing against you. He looks down watching you suck him in. His hands trace against the side of your body, stopping at your hips. 

Finger’s digging into the flesh. You feel so dizzy with pleasure. “Shit, so good fo’me” you clench around him, he lips curl upwards. “You like that huh?” you moan, feeling his cock brush perfectly against your walls. “So fucking pretty underneath me” your back arches. 

He pulls out and pushes you onto your stomach, you lift your hips, he hilts himself inside of you all at once. You feel him in your throat.you hands trace against his creased covers as he pounds faster into you. He pulls your back towards his chest. Hand grabbing at your chin. You look him in the eye. Biting your lip, you feel sweat run down your bodies, his hand slides down your front and runs tight circles around your clit. He leans in to kiss you. Pulling away with a string of spit. “Close Aem”

“Yeah? Already” 

You nod against him, his fingers brush up your neck, pinning your body into his, neck tilting. Lips brushing together. You feel him pulse inside of you. You feel the pleasure spread from your back until you can't hold on anymore. You clench around him. You can taste it in your mouth. You turned around and pressed into the covers by his body, he pistons into you chasing his high,You feel him falter, bringing his face to your own, he presses his sweaty forehead to your own. Chasing your lips as he cums. Your own legs shake from under him. He collapses on your chest. Teeth grazing against your tits. He smiles up at you,  you push his hair back from his face. 

“I really like you” he whispers, his hand meets your cheek, the pad of his thumb smoothing over your skin. 

“I'm glad” you smile, “because i really you” he pulls away from you, shrugging on some clothes and running out the room. He comes back with a wet flannel. Wiping the sweat of your forehead and then between your thighs. He kisses your shoulder and you watch him grab clothes out his drawer. You pull your socks on, and his adidas jumper, along with some joggers. The cuffs of his jumper slides down your wrist to your palm. You slide your phone in his pocket and wait. Aemond stands by the door. “You coming?” your eyes widen and you jump off the bed, grabbing his hand to pull him down stairs. 

The music is louder than usual and Aegon stares at you as you walk through the door of the lounge,“You finally fucked then” 

“Aegon!” Helaena  gasps, shoving a pillow at his face. You watch Aemonds face blush but push him into the direction of the back yard, picking up your coat and bag. You both sit on the rattan furniture, Aemonds arm wrapped around your shoulder as you roll a joint, he presses his lips to the side of your mouth as you lick the paper. It's not the neatest, but it's not Aegons, which usually look limp and bent. You push the tray of your lap and tuck your legs under you, leaning into his body. 

“Do you wanna go on a date?” 

You light the joint watching the cherry light, Turning to his side, he watches for your reaction. You smile, breathing in the weed and handing it to him. “Yes please” his lips curl. You pull your phone out his hoodie pocket, eyes widening as the texts to Helaena, light up. 

You: I literally need this man so bad I'm gonna have an aneurysm x Helaena: Istg, stop whining and talk to him all he does is ride his bike and go to work x

You switch your phone off and smile. 

[poorlywrittenbutentertaining]

Caring for a Duckling

Gibbs x Fem!oc

warnings: medical stuff, and boats... i guess?

summary: Gibbs is volunteered to care for Elaine after her concussion.

The sun splotched across Elaine’s face as her brain pulsated in her skull, splitting pains shooting down her spine. She attempted to open her eyes only to be met by a fresh spike of pain in the back of her head. She squinted against the light and tried to focus on her unfamiliar surroundings. The sheets she layed under were not her usual bamboo thread, but a homely, soft, cotton. The room she was in was unfamiliar. It was scarcely decorated, with what looked like quality, hand built furniture. She pulled the sheets from her body and looked down to find herself not in her scrubs, but a large, worn tee shirt and a pair of far oversized basketball shorts. Her brain scrambled to remember the events of the previous night, but it was like trying to collect water in a sieve.

Memory came in short, blurry flashes. A red hoodie here, a gurney there, and an old truck. Like watching a brief slideshow of her own evening. She didn’t remember drinking, let alone leaving her apartment. She rubbed her forehead, to be met with the soft scratch of gauze. Right, she had been hit in the head, hard. She began running a mental checklist.

Pain: moderately high

Memory loss sustained

Blunt force wound to the back of the head

Vision mildly blurry 

Delirium: no

Nausea: mild 

She sighed and looked out the window. She was greeted with a view of a small, well maintained garden. A face flashed through her head. Gibbs. She had been on the phone with him and he had been there when she woke up.

The door creaked lightly on its hinges and Elaine twisted towards the sound. Gibbs stood in the threshold holding a tall glass of water and some medicine.

“I was gonna leave these, but I guess you’re awake,” Gibbs said, “how are you feeling?”

“Bad,” Elaine answered honestly. Gibbs nodded and entered the room. He walked by her and placed the items on the carved bedside table, “you came to my house.”

“I did. I heard some commotion and came to check,” Gibbs shrugged.

“How did you get in?” Elaine asked.

“Same way the petty officer did. He broke your lock.”

“Oh…” At that moment something Dawned on Elaine, “did you change my clothes?!”

Gibbs chuckled, “no, you woke up and raided my closet before passing out again.”

“Ah,” Elaine nodded. She leaned her head into her hands and let out a long sigh, “what a nightmare.”

“Here, take these,” Gibbs held the pills and water in front of her, “it’ll help the pain.”

Elaine took the medicine, “I’m a doctor, gunny, I know what Tylenol does.” She quickly swallowed the pills dry and then took a few long gulps of the water. Gibbs gave a half smile and nodded.

“S’pose you do, doc.”

“Well I’m fine now, you can take me home,” Elaine moved to stand, ignoring the pounding in her head.

“Na-ah-ah,” Gibbs grabbed her upper arm, “I told Ducky I’d watch you today.”

“I’m a doctor, I can take care of myself.”

“Notorious fact that doctors make the worst patients.”

“And how would you know that, Gunny?” Elaine sassed.

“Because Ducky said so,” Gibbs' voice was even, he moved in close to her and Elaine felt her heart stammer for a moment, “now lay down.”

“Fine, fine,” Elaine put her hands up. Jethro released her arm and lifted the sheets for her, “I can get myself into bed.”

“I know.” 

Elaine rolled her eyes and scooted in, allowing him to fluff the sheets over her. She had to admit, the bed was nice.

~~~

The house had been quiet for a few hours and Elaine felt like she was going stir crazy. She slid herself out of the bed and began looking closer around the room. The furniture seemed unused, and if the fresh scent of laundry detergent was anything to go off of, Gibbs had probably retrieved her fresh sheets and blankets for the bed. There were no paintings or pictures on the walls, and while the decorations and furnishings were scarce they all held the signs of being homemade. Some from mismatched woods, others with intricate carvings. Elaine ran her hand over the dresser and slid open the top drawer. An assortment of linens, seemingly random. She closed the drawer and walked to the door, slowly turning the handle and cracking the door open with nary a squeak.

“Well oiled,” Elaine noted as she peeked down the hall. There were a few other doors, but what interested Elaine was the staircase down at the end of the hall. She padded down them quickly to be met with a much more open space. It was more decorated, the ghost of a woman’s touch fleeting in the details. A stack of coasters here, a small lamp there. Elaine smiled as she moved around the living space. It was clean, if not a little dated. There were books around the fireplace and a large TV hanging over the hearth. The leather couch was particularly worn on one cushion. The coffee table in front of it had a ring from a cup being placed over and over again. Elaine could imagine Gibbs sitting to watch TV in the same place every night, setting his cup on the edge of the coffee table.

While the space was inviting, it felt lonely. Like the ghost of Jethro would occasionally pass through the space, a specter in his own home. 

Elaine’s ears picked up a small scratching sound coming from an open door. She peeked through, finding the entrance to a basement. The scratching echoes through the cement room, a small amount of light being let in from the high windows. She approached the railing and peeked over, finding the boning of a wooden boat, and Gibbs dutifully sanding at one of the timber boards. The railing creaked under her weight.

“You should be laying down,” Gibbs said, the sanding stopped as he glanced up at her. Elaine simply shrugged and padded down the wooden stairs. Gibbs rolled his eyes and resumed his work.

“You build boats?” Elaine asked. Gibbs just nodded towards the wooden structure, “You know they make those automatic now.”

“Don’t use power tools,” Gibbs dusted the piece he was working on and resumed sanding.

“Really? None?” Elaine meandered to the workbench and took in the neatly organized tools. A series of manual drills, chisels, hammers, sanding blocks, and other woodworking tools Elaine didn’t recognize.

“Nope.”

Elaine peeked into his mug to find an amber liquid, she lifted it to her nose and sniffed. The scent burned in her nose and she cougehed, “bourbon?”

“It’s an acquired taste,” Gibbs said.

“That’s code for, ‘it’s gross until you get used to it’,” Elaine gave him a cheeky grin over her shoulder as she continued looking around the basement, “Got anymore sandpaper?”

“You should be resting, Dr. Wright,” Gibbs turned to her.

“I’m bored and something deep inside me tells me that I can handle some sandpaper after bumping my head,” Elaine leaned back against the workbench. Gibbs let out a sigh and held the sandpaper out to her. She grinned and took it, stepping around him and approaching the boat. She began sanding side to side and gibbs quickly stopped her, placing his hand firmly over hers and then guiding it up and down.

“With the grain of the wood,” He said. Elaine swallowed and peeked at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Right,” She nodded. His hand pulled away as he returned to the workbench.

Elaine spent the rest of the day practically tailing Gibbs until he placed a book firmly in her hands and had her sit down on the couch with an order to rest for the remainder of the day. It wasn’t long until she fell asleep.

~~~

Gibbs peeked out of the kitchen to find Elaine curled up on the couch. She laid in the worn spot he usually sat in. He sighed and shook his head. He grabbed a blanket from the closet and flicked it open. He laid it over Elaine and tucked it softly around her. He took the book from her hands and noted the page she was on before returning it to its place on the shelf.

His eyes flicked over to the front door when it creaked open. In the threshold stood Ducky, his coat draped over one arm and his briefcase in the other.

“I believe you are housing a little duckling, I’m here to take her home.”

(enjoyed it? Let me know what scenarios/episodes you want to see from Elaine and Gibbs next!)

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 30)

WARNING: NSFW/Mentions of sex

A/N: AHH alright, so I'm kind of losing it. It's genuinely hard to believe that A Lion in the Garden is over, or at least plot wise anyways. Because yes, I am going to go back and edit, along with adding new chapters into the main plotline to help with pacing and all that, but this is the end of Lady Tyrell and Tywin’s story and it is honestly making me emotional. I started this story in late November, and in the last six months I’ve written about 170,000 words about these two, which is around 300 pages the way that I have it formatted in google docs. So, needless to say, this has been quite the journey for me and also for all of you who have been reading as I publish. And a giant thank you to everyone who’s shown support for my story, because even when I was busy or lacking motivation, knowing that there were at least a few people desperate for the next chapter made me keep working, and now I’m here. Anyways, with all that said, please enjoy the last chapter and know that I am so grateful for all my readers <3

—————

To finally be in the tower of the hand was a blessing. I had spent no less than three hours in the great hall, and if I’d been stuck there any longer I might’ve gone mad. Thankfully, Tywin knew me well enough to know that my patience was wearing thin, and had distracted a few lords so I could slip away. 

It was about 10:00 when I made it back to our chambers, and instantly I collapsed on one of the sofas in Tywin’s bedroom, removing my shoes with a sigh. I massaged my feet and ankles, tired after quite literally standing still for hours on end. If I had been walking the whole time it would’ve been fine, but it was like I had been stuck.

“King Tywin Lannister…” I muttered to myself, getting up from the sofa and going over to the mirror. I could’ve rang for Cerella, but it was late, and the last thing I wanted was to be rude. In all honesty, I wasn’t sure I could tolerate a conversation right now. All I wanted was to let my hair down, remove my gown, and fall asleep.

No, that wasn’t all I wanted. I wanted Tywin beside me too. 

But he probably wouldn’t have the chance to join me until much later, and I couldn’t wait for him. Sighing, I grabbed at the pins in my hair, taking them out and running my fingers through it afterwards. It had not relieved my headache as much as I had hoped. 

I reached backward then, watching myself in the mirror as I undid my dress. I suddenly wished that Tywin had dressed me in red this morning, for at least I could’ve felt connected to him that way. The entire day—though not purposefully, of course—he had been so distant, and now all I wanted was to feel like he was with me. 

My dress fell to the floor, and I undid the rest of my unnecessary undergarments with a sigh of relief. I turned to go towards the dresser and find a nightgown, but I noticed that one had already been laid out on a chair. I was unable to hold back a smile, grabbing my gown and other undergarments from the floor and folding them as neatly as I could. Cerella had known me well enough to understand that I wouldn’t want to speak to anybody at this hour, and so she had set out my nightgown in advance. Gods, I loved her. 

I set my clothes down on the chair, taking the nightgown in my hands once I had and slipping into it. I found that I dearly missed the warm nights that Tywin and I had spent nude, lazily sprawled out under the thin silk sheets. The nights had become colder, and soon the days would too. After that, it would only be a matter of time before the ravens came from the citadel. Then the blankets and furs on our bed would pile, and I would press myself closer against him. Perhaps that was not so unfortunate. 

I slipped into bed, pulling the blanket up to the bottom of my neck and finding a comfortable position. I settled into the mattress with a sigh, my head sinking into the pillow with a sort of relief. It was odd, however, to be falling asleep without Tywin by my side. The bed felt too light without him, and I wondered if I would be able to sleep without the sound of his breathing beside me. 

King Tywin Lannister.

Everytime I found myself drifting off, that came back to me. It was still such a shocking concept, and I wanted it to feel normal more than anything. For some reason, though, I simply couldn’t make it sound correct. Queen (Y/N) Tyrell. 

A small shiver went up my back, and I had to turn onto my other side in bed. I kept hoping for the sound of Tywin’s boots outside the door, but they would not come. It was almost funny to me, how much comfort was derived from a man that plenty of people considered an insufferable cunt. Myself included, let it be known. 

And yet still, I felt restless without him. I had a million questions to ask, and a million reassurances I wished to receive. Although, I guessed he was worse off than I was, probably surrounded by far too many noblemen… and noblewomen.

Now I was lying on my back, a sort of jealousy sparking in me and making my body go hot. Never before had I ever felt that somebody would try and disrupt my relationship with Tywin, but if he was to be king, surely the title of queen looked appealing to many ladies. Just as I was certain the concept of birthing little princes and princesses did.

Would Tywin want children now? His relationship with Tyrion had improved, yes, but would he go so far as to put him on the throne? I wondered if that was better or worse than Casterly Rock. But that was only for a moment, because the idea of heirs was most important. I knew for certain that the titles of prince and princess had not changed my feelings, but sometimes Tywin was hard to predict. Although, if I hadn’t been so tired and my head not so clouded, I would’ve known instantly that his opinion upon the subject had not changed.

Eventually, this train of thought became so tiring that it no longer made sense, and the words in my head were not coherent any longer, especially as I had turned back onto my side and closed my eyes once more. My breathing had begun to slow as well, and slowly but surely I drifted off.

In my dreams, I was on the battlefield. I somehow knew that Tywin was there, but I did not see him. The other odd thing was that it had been snowing, and it was somewhat reminiscent of Winterfell. It was unlike any battle I'd ever been in.

—————

Tywin was utterly exhausted. He had been in constant discussion ever since you’d left the hall, and it was now approaching 2:00 in the morning. He was making his way up the tower of the hand, already grasping at the top of his coat and undoing the clips. It was unlike him to undress anywhere besides his chambers, but gods he couldn’t help it. 

All he wanted was to slip into bed beside your warm body and hold you close, because just as you needed his support, he needed yours. He was not an overly emotional person, but he could admit that to feel you in his arms would relieve the unbearable amount of stress he had accumulated in the last 24 hours. He had single handedly made House Lannister the most powerful and placed them on the throne; it was truly a wonder. 

Tywin did not bother looking at the guards outside his door when he entered his office, he only pushed the door open with a slight sigh and carefully shut it behind him. It wouldn’t have been enough to wake you up regardless, but it was so quiet that he did not want to disturb the silence.

He fully shrugged off his coat now, draping it over his arm as he went towards the bedroom door. That one was handled carefully too, opened and closed as softly as was possible. There were a few dim candles lit, but overall the room was quite dark. He could see you, though, lying in bed with your face turned toward the door. 

The candles were behind you for the most part, and it gave your figure a pleasant outline. Although, your face was partly buried in the pillow, and an odd feeling of guilt ran through Tywin. Had you been crying? 

He took light steps across the room, placing his coat down on the same chair that you had left your gown. He sat down in another, reaching down to pull off his boots with a soft groan. Once he had done that, he untucked his shirt from his pants and then continued to strip. Tywin found his black robe in the dresser and promptly slipped it over his head, periodically looking over to make sure you were still asleep.

Entirely ready to sleep now, he approached your side of the bed. He lifted his hand to your face, the back of his fingers brushing against your cheek. It did not feel as though you had been crying, but it was impossible to tell. He felt the pillowcase too, and was reassured by the dryness there. No, you had not been crying. 

Quietly, Tywin made his way around the bed until he reached his side, carefully lifting the blankets and getting in with as little disruption as was possible. You seemed relatively undisturbed by the shifting of the mattress, and he knew he had not woken you. Tywin laid on his back with a quiet sigh, feeling utterly relieved to finally be in bed and alone. It felt like being alone, at least, for your company was never disruptive to him.

He had been drifting to sleep, but was suddenly startled by a jolting beside him. When Tywin opened his eyes, he saw you shake beside him. He moved to reach over and hold you, but you had shot straight up with a gasp, and he could see a sort of fear in your eyes.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?” He asked, having to clear his throat as he sat up and placed his hands on your arms. You looked over at him—as if processing that he was there—and then nodded. Something had clearly started you. “A bad dream?” he questioned, gently cupping your cheek and bringing your forehead to his lips. 

“Yes, y-yes. It was just a bad dream,” you whispered in reply, swallowing. The way you said it gave the odd impression that you were trying to remind yourself of it, not that you were telling Tywin. He gave you a sympathetic look, though you did not notice.

“Come, sweet girl. Let us sleep,” Tywin whispered, slowly coaxing you back down to the mattress. He sighed out airily when you moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He could feel your stress and uncertainty being relieved as you held him, and he could not keep himself from holding you with the same ferocity. 

Tywin clutched at you, wrapping his arms entirely around you and pressing you to his body as much as was physically possible. He knew he wouldn’t, but there was an odd desire in him to sob. He did not want to be the king, all he wanted was to remain here with you.

“Oh Tywin…” you muttered, inhaling his scent with an overwhelming sense of comfort. Your own scent was simultaneously giving him the same feeling. You had begun to nuzzle into him, too, much as a lion would. In response, his hand had come to your hair, cupping your head as one does for an infant. It had come from some sort of protective instinct, and even knowing that there was nothing to fear, Tywin would not let go. 

His queen.

With both of you feeling utterly at peace in each other's arms, it did not take long to fall asleep. You had drifted off first, and the sound of your tired breathing had sent Tywin to sleep right after you. He had been so glad to hold you, and perhaps even a bit happy that you were tired and disoriented, for you had asked no questions. Those would come in the morning, he knew. 

Tywin would happily answer them then, but for now, all he wanted was sleep. And with you wrapped up in his arms, that was no strenuous task at all.

—————

Tywin had woken up before me, though he had not left our bed. When I opened my eyes, I understood that I was cuddled against his chest. However, when I looked up at his face, he was already smiling down at me.

“Goodmorning, my dear,” he said, his voice a bit deeper and harsher than usual. He must’ve not been up for long. I smiled, adjusting myself and sitting up slightly before reaching over to kiss him. Tywin gave a soft hum against my lips, hand coming to my hair as he kissed me back. The mornings that he got to stay in bed with me were always the best ones.

“Goodmorning, Tywin. What time did you come to bed last night?” I questioned, laying back down and resting my head on his shoulder. I felt his hand lifting my nightgown, and then suddenly his warm palm against my hip. He loved to feel the skin there, for some odd reason. Though, I would never complain, for I loved it too.

“Far too late. I only managed to escape the great hall at 2:00. Your nightmare woke up just after I came to bed,” he said, resting his chin on my head. I furrowed my eyebrows, as I did not remember waking from my dreams. I had experienced a nightmare, yes, but waking up because of it? I certainly could not recall that. Well, it was of no importance.

“I see. If you’d really wanted to, you would’ve left much earlier,” I said, knowing him better than that. Tywin Lannister would never do something he didn’t want to. At least not something like that.

“It would have been inappropriate.”

“Oh yes, I’m certain.”

I laughed, shaking my head at how ridiculous my husband managed to be. I suspected not a man like him had ever lived, nor ever would again. It was almost comical, for Tywin Lannister was rarer than a dragon. 

“We have much to discuss,” Tywin said after a moment, instantly making my smile fade. I could hear in his voice that he similarly did not want to, but felt it necessary. He was right, of course. 

“Yes, we certainly do.”

“What’s most important to me, (Y/N), is that you’re alright. You shook during the ceremony yesterday. It’s all been somewhat overwhelming and sudden, hasn’t it?” He asked softly, one of his hands reaching for mine and holding it. I nodded, sighing out and glancing around the room. 

“I suppose I- well, I hadn’t even considered that you had a claim. For some reason, the only two I had suspected were Jaime and Tyrion, and when I heard men in the hall discussing that it ought to be you, it did shock me. But it’s not you being king which frightens me, it’s the idea of me being queen. I’m nothing like my sister in that regard,” I admitted, suddenly finding one of the tapestries on the wall to be the most interesting thing I’d ever seen. Tywin had it put up after our wedding, and I hadn’t really taken any appropriate amount of time to consider it. There was something so beautiful and erotic about the nude figures, and it was a perfect distraction from my embarrassment.

Tywin suddenly moved beside me, and I realized he wanted to get up from bed. I moved off him, sitting up and watching him quizzically as he went over to a drawer and rummaged around. When he seemingly did not find what he was looking for there, he left the room. I simply waited, absolutely puzzled as to what he was doing. I assumed that like always, he was trying to prove a point.

He came back in with a rather large, rolled up parchment in his hands. He set it down on the table, undoing it and then using books that were already on the table to keep it open. Tywin then turned around and motioned for me to come over. I did so, scooting off the edge of the bed and adjusting my nightgown as I walked over to him.

He had laid out a map on the table, and after a minute it clicked in my head. It was a map of King’s Landing. I raised both eyebrows at him as a signal to explain, knowing he was going to come to a point eventually. 

“As you are aware, the smallfolk of King’s Landing are not entirely fond of me. If I’m to be their king, my reforms must actually have a directly positive impact on their lives. Tell me, how do I improve a city ripe with crime, disease, overcrowding, and homelessness?” Tywin questioned, gesturing to the map he had laid out. I let out a breath that was almost a laugh, feeling that the question was impossible. Staring at the map was not helping me any.

“You cannot improve all of those things single handedly, Tywin. Therefore, I cannot possibly have any ideas that would do such a thing,” I said, knowing that we needed to be realistic in this instance. He still hadn’t come to his point yet, and it was irking me. 

“It’s not single handedly, I have you. But even if I didn’t, that’s not what I mean. Give me a solution to just one of those problems, please,” he said, gazing down at me with a sort of twinkle in his eye. Where was he going with this? I looked at him hesitantly for a moment, but when all I received was an expectant look I knew he was serious.

With a sigh, I turned my eyes to the map once more. Gods, the layout of Kings Landing was absolutely horrendous. It was no wonder that overcrowding was a problem just based on the way that everything was structured. And of course, overcrowding led to disease, so I supposed a solution to the overcrowding would perhaps help that as well. The idea came to me then.

“Tywin, where was Tommen’s carriage destroyed?” I asked, turning to my husband for a moment. His expression was blank, but he pointed down to a certain street on the map.

“Right around here.”

“Well surely that much wildfire must’ve destroyed some of the street and the buildings around it, right?” I questioned, feeling that it must’ve been a completely logical assumption.

“Correct. I was told that these complexes here are practically ruins now, and several of the common folk in them were either seriously injured or killed,” Tywin informed, making my heart sink a bit. To think a religious order had caused such suffering.

“I see. We ought to make sure their families are provided for at the very least, and given reassurances that the sparrows will be held responsible,” I muttered, hearing Tywin give a hum of approval beside me.

“I’ll have Varys see to that.”

“Perhaps I ought to go with him. It will appear more genuine that way. Plus, then I can inspect the site myself. The problem with Kings Landing is that it wasn't built with any particular layout, but if we can slowly rebuild with a more thought out design, then it would be able to more adequately house the smallfolk, and if there’s less overcrowding, that also means less ability for disease to spread. Sickness is bound to spread in large cities, but if we could limit the amount of families living in one house, that ought to help,” I reasoned, continually looking down at the sheet before me and trying to formulate some kind of design in my head based off of what I knew about Highgarden’s layout. Though, King’s Landing was admittedly a much different space.

“And how do you propose we go about building such a thing? To redesign and rebuild the entire city is quite a hefty task. It would displace many,” Tywin pointed out, though I shook my head in disagreement.

“Not if we do it slowly. We could also use the sept to house people, there aren’t any more nobles in need of a marriage that grand so far as I’m concerned. And as we carry it out, we could also hire the smallfolk to help build. It would improve our economy significantly and reduce the amount of unemployed and homeless, especially because the new layout would ideally use the space available most efficiently. I’m no architect or city planner, but I’m certain we could find somebody from the citadel who would be more than helpful with that matter. We ought to focus on agriculture as well, especially with the upcoming winter. It will remain relatively warm enough to plant certain crops, and it would certainly relieve a burden off of Highgarden. Plus, the more jobs available the better,” I rambled, thinking of the endless benefits that redesigning and rebuilding King’s Landing would have. If we could execute it correctly, which I was certain we could, it would be infinitely useful.

When Tywin said nothing, I looked over my shoulder at him. I had leaned over the table subconsciously, both hands spread on the map like I was planning for battle. My husband was smiling rather fondly, and I raised a curious eyebrow. What on earth was making him grin like such a fool?

“A few years ago, (Y/N), when I saw you for the first time since you were 14, I had not a clue what to expect. For a moment, I thought you had remained as immature as you were as a young girl, but you quickly proved me wrong. You had leaned over my table then, just as you are now, and told me that we would be stupid to go through that ravine, because if Stannis sent men in another direction and they realized we were coming, we would’ve been easy to repel. You were admittedly correct, and I understood that you were no longer an inexperienced child. Now you stand here, telling me exactly how we ought to earn the respect of the smallfolk and more than that, how it will be beneficial for all involved. You underestimate yourself, (Y/N), and of all my concerns, you being a good queen is not one of them. You have always been a leader, that won’t change just because the title sounds more intimidating,” Tywin explained, stepping toward me and cupping my face in his hands. My lips parted as I stared up at him, my heart somehow pounding in my chest at the sentiment he was expressing. There was something so indescribable about the way that Tywin managed to reassure me, and I often wondered how it was possible. 

I reached for the fabric of his robe, pulling him closer to me and lifting my head up to show him I wished for a kiss. He chuckled softly, moving his hands from my face and grabbing my hips instead. Tywin bent down, pressing his lips to mine with a noise of satisfaction.

“You’re far too good at that,” I whispered when he pulled away, making his eyebrow raise.

“What, kissing you?”

“No. Well, yes, that too. But I meant that you’re far too good at reassuring me. I’m always in my head and you always know how to pull me out,” I said with a smile, unable to look away from my husband for even a moment. Even after all this time I was still so smitten with him.

“It’s because you often do the same for me, even if you don’t realize it,” he remarked with a kiss to my forehead. 

“And speaking of, well, reassurances… the subject of succession, your succession, I mean… do you- are you still firm on the subject of children?” I asked, knowing that was one of the other things I needed to discuss with him.

“Yes, I am. Why? Has the prospect of them being a prince or princess changed your opinion on it?” He questioned in reply, a certain hesitation in his voice as he asked it, almost as if hoping that mentioning he hadn’t changed his mind wasn’t the wrong thing to say.

“No! Gods, no. I just- I wasn’t sure if… well I don’t know. Your relationship with Tyrion has certainly improved, but I didn’t have a clue if it had improved enough to make you give him the throne. You were already unsure about giving him Casterly Rock,” I pointed out, watching him nod as he listened to what I was saying. He was contemplative. 

“Casterly Rock must have prestige associated with it. Jaime is no ruler, but he would not make the Lannister name an embarrassment. To have Tyrion there, whoring and drinking constantly, would be a problem. The throne has no obligations, it is expected for kings to drink and whore. Tyrion will get the throne once I am gone, and I feel quite certain he will rule far better than most,” Tywin explained, one of his hands holding mine and the other on the table, gently tapping against the wood. He quite frequently fidgeted with his fingers, I realized. I wondered if somehow it helped him process his thoughts.

“I see. That’s easily settled then,” I remarked, somewhat glad it had been resolved so easily. I had expected a much longer conversation, but I was quite satisfied. Tyrion would be a good king.

“Yes, it is.”

I thought for a moment more, and then an insecurity from the previous night came back to me. I found myself looking down, not wanting to see Tywin’s reaction as I said what was on my mind.

“You’re correct, Tywin. Kings certainly are expected to whore, drink, and hunt,” I mumbled, feeling insanely uncomfortable with the jealousy I was experiencing. Surely every woman in the seven kingdoms would be throwing herself at him now. 

“(Y/N), a crown is not suddenly going to transform me. Just like any other man, I have been with whores, and I have enjoyed them, but you are my wife. I had no need to marry you, House Tyrell was already firmly tied to House Lannister. I married you because I love you, and that means I have no intentions of being unfaithful. I would hang any woman who tried to flirt with me, because I will not see our marriage insulted that way. Rest assured that you are the only woman I want, and that is not going to change just because they decided to put me on the throne,” Tywin assured me, hand coming under my chin and forcing me to look at him. He was entirely genuine, I could see it in his eyes. In all honesty, I knew everything he said was true before he had even bothered to open his mouth, but somehow hearing it outloud brought such relief. 

“I merely hate the thought of women looking at you with desire.”

“And now you understand how I feel. Perhaps you’ll stop teasing so much when I get possessive.”

I laughed then, shaking my head and embracing Tywin. There was always something so lovely about knowing I was the only person with whom he acted this way. His hands were on my hips again, and when he gave them a slight squeeze I knew exactly what he was about to say.

“And believe me, none of those whores are anything like you. It left me rather unsatisfied,” he whispered, which had initially been what I expected. Then I was given quite the surprise.

“Unsatisfied?” I questioned, wondering if he was insinuating what I thought he was. He observed me for a second, as though he were debating whether or not he ought to admit something.

“About two years ago, when you left to go make negotiations with Robb Stark, I sent a description to the brothel. At that point, I was unaware that you returned my feelings. We hadn’t even kissed yet, but you were driving me mad. It was impulsive of me to do, and I felt incredibly guilty afterwards… but I- well, I couldn’t even finish with her. From behind, she certainly looked similar. Your same height, hair color, skin tone… but she wasn’t anything like you. She did not hold herself with any confidence, the sound of her voice was wrong. She did not moan how you would’ve, and when I leaned down her scent was nothing like yours. That’s when I had to stop. I paid her and asked her to leave. She wasn’t you…” he said, revealing what was probably the most shocking thing I had ever heard him say. I was trying to process my feelings, but in all honesty I had no idea what to feel. How are you supposed to feel about learning that a man fucked a whore with you in mind? More than anything, I was just surprised. I hadn’t even considered that Tywin desired me at that point in time.

“Tywin…” I whispered, not sure what else to say. It was the only thing that would escape my throat. Should I be offended that he had done it? Should I be flattered? There certainly was something erotic about the idea that I had driven him so mad with lust he had gone so far as to find a whore that looked like me. But at the same time, I hated the idea of him fucking another woman. He was mine. Although, as he had said, that was exactly why he’d stopped. She wasn’t me.

“You had been in my room in the last day or two. We had discussed something, I don’t remember what, but you had sat on my bed. You’d been fidgeting with the lace on one of the pillows, I remember that much. You left your scent on it, and that night… when I realized…” he trailed off, and it seemed that just the memory of it had sparked lust in him. I swallowed, instantly understanding. Yes, I was decided. That was utterly erotic.

Suddenly I was picturing Tywin naked, laying in bed that night with a sort of disappointment that the whore had not fulfilled his desire for me. I imagined him turning over and suddenly inhaling a familiar scent. He would flare his nostrils a few times, discovering that something smelled just like me. He would check the pillows around him, and then he would find the one that I had left my perfume on. Tywin would proceed to inhale deeply, and the lust would spark in him again. He’d reach down, touching himself as the scent consumed him entirely and he shut his eyes.

I came back to the present after picturing that, and I felt the heat in my cheeks. To think of Tywin in such a context was entirely new, but I found that I liked it.

“Until that night, I hadn’t been with a whore since weeks before the Battle of Blackwater. Once I had spoken to you again, (Y/N), you became my only desire. You called me an insufferable cunt, fine, I would prove you otherwise. Nobody had ever dared to say such a thing, and what had piqued my interest was that I knew you did not mean it just to be insulting, it was genuinely what you thought of me. When I wasn’t working, I was thinking of you. And when those thoughts became different in their nature, I did what I thought would satisfy the urge. No. No, it most certainly did not. I couldn’t have anything less than you, I discovered. Nothing ever has and nothing ever will compare to you, (Y/N).”

I felt my heart pounding with his words, so overwhelming was the love inside of me. Suddenly I could not keep myself off of my husband. I instantly kissed him, grabbing at his hair and moaning into his mouth. He did the same in response, and every touch was so raw and genuine. He lifted me from the ground then, letting me wrap my legs around his waist as he took me over to the bed.

He sat me on the edge of the mattress, standing between my legs as his lips grasped at mine. Gods, it wasn’t even 9:00 yet and we were already like this. His hands had come to my thighs, and he had to pull away for a moment, absolutely breathless.

“(Y/N)… (Y/N)…” he muttered, pressing his forehead to mine. I cupped his cheeks, swallowing and catching my own breath.

“I love you, Tywin… I love you so much,” I whispered, smiling slightly and looking into his eyes. He also smiled softly, removing his hands from my thighs and embracing me instead. It seemed that we were both equally emotional and lust-filled. 

“I love you far more than I ought to, (Y/N). My queen… my Nightshade of the Garden… my wife,” he said softly, tucking some of my hair behind my ear. He kissed me again, softer this time. I responded the exact same way.

It was an interesting thought, that I truly had no idea what would come next for us. I found that I did not care, for it did not matter. Tywin and I would continue on, just as we always did.

—————

“You look very handsome, your grace. The sash fits well.”

“It’s not your grace just yet, Cerella. And he does look handsome, even if perhaps a bit gloomy.”

I was fixing up Tywin’s outfit for the coronation, and he had decided on his black coat with the lions on the shoulders. On top of that, I had fixed a golden sash around his torso, as I was trying to prevent him from looking too plain. 

“I do not appreciate your jokes,” Tywin mumbled, which only made me smile even more as I adjusted his belt. He was simply so easy to tease.

“Have you ever considered taking the black, husband? I feel confident they would allow you to keep your wardrobe,” I jested further, finally stepping away from him and feeling satisfied with his appearance. Cerella had brought in my own dress and was presently waiting for me to strip out of my nightgown. 

“Ha! If I did, it would leave you begging,” he replied snarkily, only continuing to grin when I smacked his arm. 

“Do you hear him, Cerella? My husband is surely the most insufferable cunt in all seven kingdoms,” I scoffed, undoing some of the lace on my nightgown and pulling it over my head. My undergarments had followed, of course, and Tywin had pretended not to notice my nudity as he ran a hand over his hair in the mirror. 

“Here, my lady,” Cerella replied, handing me a fresh set to put on. She had not addressed my claim, but was smiling in a way that told me she appreciated the joke. I supposed that after serving the two of us for so long, she’d been forced to become accustomed to our constant teasing and yapping.

I pulled on the clean undergarments, and I held still as she assisted me with the lacing of my stay. After that came my gown, of course, which was a deep scarlet red. The top had minimal gold and white detail, for on top of my dress I was wearing a beautiful porcelain corset. It had absolute gorgeous ornamentation, with perfected gold detailing along the edges and roses painted on it. It had been a gift for my 24th name day, and I hadn’t found an occasion for it until now.

“You look absolutely stunning, my lady,” Cerella said as she helped me put it on. I smiled at her for a moment, and then I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. It certainly was quite the sight. Cerella had done my hair beforehand too, wanting to make sure that everything would stay in place. 

“Yes, she does. You’re breathtaking, wife,” Tywin noted, coming up behind me and placing his hands on my hips, just below the corset. I hadn’t even realized he was watching, in all honesty.

“Well, my husband is being made into the king of all seven kingdoms today. If that isn’t a good occasion to be wearing this, I don’t know what is,” I remarked, watching Cerella step back and take my dirty nightclothes out. Tywin and I were left alone after a moment.

“I have something to give you, (Y/N). I’m not certain what jewelry you were planning to wear, but I think you ought to consider this.”

I watched him retrieve a flat, square box from his dresser with a small smirk on his face. I was suspicious of him, just as I always was. Tywin brought it over to me, and I turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. Carefully, he opened the case and revealed an absolutely stunning necklace. It made me gape, and I quite honestly had no clue what to say in reply.

“What do you think?” he questioned, lifting his gaze from the jewelry up to me. I managed to avert my eyes too, though with quite some difficulty.

“It’s gorgeous, Tywin. Would you- would you help me put it on?” I asked softly, watching the satisfaction settle in his eyes. He said nothing, but nodded and motioned for me to turn around. I did so, watching him move around in the mirror and remove the necklace from its case. I adjusted my hair as he came up behind me, and I could feel his breath against my ear as he hung the thing from my neck. I felt the gentle clasp of it, and he carefully removed his hands. For such a gorgeous, detailed necklace, it was not nearly as heavy as I had suspected. I put my hair back in place with a sort of entrancement.

“It looks beautiful on you,” Tywin said after a moment, still standing right behind me and admiring my reflection. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around my waist and let his head lean against mine. 

“I think this would look beautiful on anyone, Tywin. Maybe even on you,” I jested, though there was no humor in my voice. Something about seeing myself this way was shocking, and I could not tear my eyes away. I looked like a queen.

“No, I doubt that. I had it specifically made for you, the measurements are specific. You are the only woman who’s ever been meant to wear it,” he said, his voice low and clear. I placed my hands on top of his, swallowing and then letting my lips part with a sort of overwhelmed feeling.

“I wonder, Tywin, if you will ever stop spoiling me like a child,” I remarked, finally looking at him. As well as I could, anyways, for our faces were rather close. 

“I have never spoiled you like a child. I have spoiled you like a wife—as you deserve,” he replied, placing a chaste kiss against my neck. I leaned into him, a sort of warmth filling me. To think this man had been my worst enemy a few years ago was incredibly odd, for now he was the most important person in my life. To think that a cut, a sword, and a set of armor might’ve changed my life forever.

There was a knock at our door which I recognized as Cerella’s, and I knew it must be time for us to leave. I moved myself from Tywin’s grasp, though I took his arm once I had. From there, we made our way out of the tower of the hand and down to the throne room. The walk was quiet, but the entire time Tywin kept me close. Occasionally, he would look over at me and hold my gaze for a few moments before looking away. I wondered if perhaps he was trying to make sure I was still there, as stupid as that sounded. 

When we reached the double doors, I felt him take a deep breath and noticed his gaze set firmly on the wood in front of us. I pressed my lips together, blinking a few times as I debated whether or not I should ask him how he was doing. I decided it would do little harm.

“Are you alright, Tywin?”

“Of course.”

It was kurt, and perhaps a bit sharper than he had intended. He was stressed, I understood. He was not easily made this way, either, and I felt awful. The man standing beside me was not only Tywin, he was the king. In this moment, the second identity had to be worn.

“I did not mean to use such a tone,” he said after a minute or so, finally looking at me. There was the husband again. 

“It’s alright, Tywin. You don’t need to apologize. Not today,” I whispered, giving him a sympathetic look. A sort of relief settled in his face, as though he was at least glad I was not upset by what he had said. I had learned Tywin well enough to know it was not truly him.

Slowly, the double doors were pulled open and the two of us were shown to the entire court. My heart skipped a beat, as if I was suddenly processing that we both were on public display. With a swallow, I stepped forward in sync with Tywin, looking straight ahead in spite of my nerves and desire to observe every face. Margaery would inform me of looks afterwards, I was certain.

There was a silence in the room as Tywin and I walked through the isle, heading straight up to the throne. It was almost like a moment of peace, a moment of time that nobody else existed in. I found that I could not resist the urge to look at Tywin, and even despite his appearance as king today, he looked back at me. Oh, and those eyes. Those blue, blue eyes with their green flecks. I loved this man so much.

We reached the platform then, and together we ascended up the steps. I made eye contact with Kevan, who Tywin had chosen as Hand of the King, for he never wanted politics to cause strife in our marriage. Although, both of us were aware that I would continue to be his most trusted source of guidance and advice. And, it was a good thing Kevan was hand too, for I did not want to relinquish our chambers in the tower and he had no problem whatsoever taking the kings instead. The bed was bigger in there, but Tywin and I had no problem sleeping close together.

It was Kevan who I had expected to stand beside at the ceremony, too, but Tywin did not drop his arm. With an open mouth, I found myself standing in front of the throne with him, and there was a smug look on his face.

“Let them see that the queen has every bit of power that the king does. Your title is owed a crown,” he whispered before we turned around to look upon the crowd. I was still somewhat shocked, but I did not let it show as we faced everyone. 

Tywin’s arm detached from mine then, but he then opted to grab my hand instead. He was certainly full of surprises today, and I could not keep myself from giving a subtle smile when his hand squeezed mine.

The high septon was behind us, and once Tywin and I had settled in, he began with the ceremonials. I—in all honesty—was not listening to what he was saying whatsoever. Tywin had been running his thumb up and down the side of my hand for the last several minutes, and that was all I could focus on. That and the two crowns I had noticed in the corner of my eye. One was much larger, and had the face of a lion upon it. The other was about the size of my head, and was covered in thorns and roses. 

The high septon had been going on about the seven blessing and guiding Tywin for at least 10 minutes now, and I hadn’t really processed what was being said until I was mentioned. It was not something that had ever been said in a coronation before, at least as far as I was concerned, and Tywin had given me the most fulfilled of looks when he’d heard it. 

“And may his lady wife support him in all his endeavors and be a pillar of strength in the crown. May she show love, compassion, and kindness to all in the kingdoms, and lead just as bravely as the man beside her. The Queen (Y/N) Tyrell, long may she reign,” he said, placing the golden crown of roses atop my head. Its weight was pleasant, and the echo of ‘long may she reign’ from everyone in the hall sent a slight shiver up my spine. Tywin squeezed my hand once more.

After that, the High Septon moved on to Tywin, and I was unable to remove my eyes from my husband. He looked every bit the king, standing tall with his perfect posture and elegant coat. The High Septon held the crown above his head, and with a shout of ‘long may he reign,’ it was placed upon his head.

“Long may he reign,” I repeated with the rest of the crowd, smiling at the sight of the golden lion upon Tywin’s white hair. It matched the blonde strands that remained on the edges of his head and his cheeks. 

Loud applause filled the room for King Tywin, first of his name, and I experienced the sort of feeling that one gets before battle. The feeling of rallying your men, of hearing them cheer as they prepare to die for you. Would these men fight for my husband? Would they die for him? I would. 

Tywin looked over at me then, and when our eyes met I knew everything would be alright, somehow. There were trials to come, I knew, but it was impossible to feel frightened when the man beside me was looking at me the way he was. Tywin and I had faced everything together for the last few years, and I had no doubt in my mind that we would continue to do so now.

“My Queen,” Tywin muttered, lifting our hands and kissing the back of mine. It was as if he had forgotten everyone in the hall was there, even as their applause continued to ring in our ears. I smiled even more now, looking up at my husband with utter adoration. Every choice I’d made in my life had been the right one, for I could not imagine living without this man. The Great Lion of the Rock and the Nightshade of the Garden. 

Tywin Lannister, I could say confidently, was the most important thing in my life. The man I trusted, guided, received guidance from. But most importantly he was the man I loved. They said that Westeros had not seen a match such as ours in centuries, if ever. And standing beside Tywin in front of the throne, his hand in mine and our eyes stuck on each other, I had the odd sensation that they never would again. For how could they?

I could not imagine another tale such as ours, with the hatred of him in my youth turning to eventual friendship in my adulthood, and then that friendship eventually turning to love. Tywin and I had fought wars together, settled conflict together, and kept all seven kingdoms intact together. What other couple could boast that? None. None could. There were no couples like us. There were no people like us. There was only us.

My thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of Tywin’s hand at my waist, and I realized that he was pulling me towards him. Before all present in the hall, he kissed me. Tywin was passionate, and yet simultaneously loving. I could not resist the urge to smile as I kissed back, the sensation of his familiar lips causing a wave of utter contentment to wash over me. A sense of peace. When Tywin pulled away, he smiled at me. It wasn’t even a small smile, it was genuine and raw. And I could see in his eyes, it was not the crown atop his head that had made him smile. It had been me, standing right beside him as the High Septon had placed it atop his head. I kissed him once more, with not a single care as I did so.

For they would never see our like again.

TAGLIST:

@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady 

@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul 

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8 

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws @girlonfireice 

@muscari-fae @lostgirllulu 

@abigfanofgameofthrones @smalltownbigheart 

@frombloodandflesh @supernaturalismyreligion666

@thanyatargaryen @rey26 @hexandale @pkawaiidesu5394 @aimsro

[ermesskiss]

itafushi pov playlists

i've been editing my itafushi playlists non-stop this past week and decided to sort the songs on a google doc instead of doing it in my head to make it easier on myself easier and more sense and omg, they're significantly fucking better compared to last time I posted about them on here

trust me!!! on my beloved cat they're good!!!

I figured that I should post the list of the arcs and its songs of their pov's. figured that this would be interesting to some people and I wanted to give them an idea of my thought process

below the cut is the song list with arcs + playlist link

here is the link to the google doc if it's more convenient and easier for others

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! 🫶🏽

_____________________________________________

_____________________________________________

Itadori's pov

First Introduction

Use Somebody: Kings of Leon

What You Know: Two-Door Cinema Club

Cursed Womb 

Amazing: Rex Orange County

Somedays: The Strokes

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out: The Smiths

Dying in front of Fushiguro

Fade Into You: Mazzy Star

Heart To Heart: Mac DeMarco

Moonlight On The River: Mac DeMarco

My Love Mine All Mine: Mitski

Good Riddance (Time of Your Life): Green Day

Secretly Training With Gojo

When You’re Gone: The Cranberries

See You Again: Tyler, The Creator

I Think I Like When It Rains: WILLIS

I Will: The Beatles

Kyoto Goodwill Event: Surprising Team

For The First Time: Mac DeMarco

Tongue Tied: Group Love

Every Way: Rex Orange County

Kyoto Goodwill Event: Battles

You’re My Bestfriend: Queen

Drive ME crazy: Lil Yachty

Buddy Holly: Weezer

Death Painting Arc

Remedy: Adele

You Get You Give: New Radicals

Time After Time: Cyndi Lauper

You’ve Got a Friend In Me: Randy Newman

Here With Me: D4vd

Shibuya Accident

Always Forever: Cults

Mrs. Magic: Strawberry Guy

I Can’t Handle Change: Roar

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want: Dream Academy 

Lonely Day: System Of The Down

Itadori's Extermination

Pluto Projector: Rex Orange County

Broken: Lifehouse

Everything: Lifehouse

Iris: Goo Goo Dolls

Chasing Cars: Snow Patrol

Running: No Doubt

What Would I Do?: Strawberry Guy

Angel: Brent Faiyaz

Culling Game

It’s Not The Same Anymore: Red Orange County

Liar: Paramore

Like You Do: Joji

When The Sun Hits: Slow Drive

Sukuna Takes Over Megumi

Little Talks: Of Monsters and Men

ilomilo: Billie Eilish

Running Up That Hill: Kate Bush

Mr. Loverman: Ricky Montgomery

All I Wanted: Paramore

_________________________________

_____________________________________________

Fushiguro's pov

First Interaction/impression

Use Somebody: Kings of Leon

I Want You: Savage Garden

I Want You Around: Snoh Aalegra

Amazing: Rex Orange County

Cursed Womb

Angel of Mine: Monica

Let You Break My Heart Again: Laufey

Watching Itadori Die

When The Sun Hits: Slowdrive

Watching Him Fade Away: Mac DeMarco

Fade Into You: Mazzy Star

Heart To Heart: Mac DeMarco

The Ghost Of You: My Chemical Romance

Itadori’s ‘dead’ phase

Star: Mitski

When You’re Gone: The Cranberries

See You Again: Tyler, The Creator

Show Me How: Men I Trust

I Think I Like When It Rains: WILLIS

Telephones: Vacations

Kyoto Goodwill Event: Itadori's Surprised Resurrection

Here Comes Your Man: Pixies

For The First Time: Mac DeMarco

IFHY: Tyler, The Creator

By Your Side: Sade

At Your Best (You Are Loved): Aaliyah

Kyoto Goodwill Event: Battles

Buddy Holly: Weezer

Drive ME crazy: Lil Yachty

Adore you: Miley Cyrus

Death Painting Arc

Black Friday: Tom Odell

Angel: Brent Faiyaz

Sunflower: Rex Orange County

Loving Is Easy: Rex Orange County

Best Friend: Laufey

Here With Me: D4vd

Shibuya Accident

Tongue Tied: Grouplove

Always Forever: Cults

Itadori's Extermination

Time After Time: Cyndi Lauper

Remedy: Adele

Hate To See Your Heart Break: Paramore

You Get What You Give: New Radicals

Culling Game

Blue Hair: TV Girl

Everyone Adores You (at least I do): Matt Maltese

Collide: Howie Day

THE SHADE: Rex Orange County

Little Talks: Of Monsters and Men

Sukuna Takes Over

ilomilo: Billie Eilish

In The Darkness: Clara La San

Broken: Lifehouse

When It’s Cold I’d Like To Die: Moby, Mimi Goese

Doomed: Moses Sumney

Bring Me To Life: Evanescence

_____________________________________________

if you guys like SatoSugu just wait 😋🤞🏽

[we-keep-odd-hours]

(repost of a tag game, original post was getting really long)

Ten questions to ask a mutual

Instructions: prev asks ten questions and you answer them, then ask ten new ones and tag ten people to keep the chain going! I’ll go first

Tagged by @rock-n-macabre

Do you think Severen survived the end of Near Dark and he's probably just chewing on roadkill somewhere until he gets his strength back? I think he's the most likely to have survived; there's so much emphasis on daylight, direct daylight being the only thing that can kill them, that his death seemed...an odd way to go out permanently. Personally, I like to lean on 'they'll all be fine eventually, it just won't be a very fun recovery, plus transfusions don't work like that and Mae and Caleb are still vampires.'

Weirdest song you get stuck in your head? A rotating mix of atrocious pop music; sometimes it's just snippets of whatever I've been listening to recently. Right now I have "Father" by the Misfits stuck in my head.

What is an item you wish would become a fad? Common sense; selfishly I do wish goth would go mainstream again like it did for two minutes in 2014ish, just to make it easier to find dark makeup.

If you had to live in an era, what would you choose? None in the past; I think it'd be fun to visit, but between health concerns and other factors I really wouldn't want to move someplace else. If i HAD to....just like. A couple decades earlier, I guess?

Fav genre of music? Most of what I listen to falls under the rock umbrella.

Fav past time? Writing, reading, I'm bad at it but also like painting. My favorite time-wasting activities outside of my house are wandering art museums and this really nice botanical garden I'm lucky to live near. I don't consider it a time-waster because it's my therapy, but I spend a LOT of time at the National Aquarium too (not exactly local, but not a horrible drive).

Gators or Crocs? like...the animals? Crocodiles are one of my favorite animals, but I love everything crocodilia. I have a bunch of tiny alligators and crocs on my desk at work, and another that lives on top of the radio in my car.

Possums or Armadillos? the latter for the novelty; we have a lot of possums around here so I'm used to seeing them.

Tacos or Burritos? tacos

(whew almost there...Im reaching for Qs) - Best Bill Paxton movie? EVIL. oh man. oh no. Don't make me do this, as I blog on a Near Dark blog, with a word doc for a fanfic open, in my red/white/black flannel shirt, whlie drinking out of my Aliens coffee mug. I'm not making choosing one. My favorite role of his is definitely Severen though.

Okay for my ten I'm going to be entirely self-serving and try to get some meta and head-canon conversation going on in the tags again:

Thoughts on Eric Red's idea for a Near Dark sequel? (Mae and Caleb's adult, human, daughter has a run in with "kin" of the Hookers.)

Top five movies with vampires?

If YOU were going to pitch a sequel (time machine back to 1987, or else a book/comic/etc) what would you say?

Favorite scene that isn't the bar scene?

We know (canon) that Mae was turned around 1982, Jesse around the Civil War, and (kiiiiiinda canon?) Severen in Tombstone in the late 19th century. When/where do you think Diamondback and Homer were from?

Do you think if Caleb got over his selectively applied human moral code that he would have made an okay vampire, eventually?

Severen: ace/aro spec, or no?

Any scenes that were changed from script to film, or otherwise cut that you wish made it into the movie/were done differently?

What would have happened if Loy and Sarah were at literally any other motel that night?

Aside from her god-awful taste in boys, what's your opinion on Mae?

taggging @rock-n-macabre again, @hex6rcist, @mrsvansickle04, @babieswrld, @ltofoceania, @lupinedreaming, @lektricfergus @tragantia, @osmanthusoolong, and @starfolk7 who is actually normal about this movie but whom I made sit down and watch it, as I have done and continue to do every time I find out one of my friends has never seen it.

And anyone else who wants to join in.

[aurora-ze-aquarius]

Listen, I am aware I'm not as active as I was before, but I need to share this headcanon with you.

Human Ramone has an entire arm dedicated to the Radiator Springs gang's favorite flowers. Like his left arm is reserved just for them. And he loves to share who's favorite is which.

Marigolds? Sheriff once told him that they were his Ma's favorite, and he often played in her flower garden growing up.

Sunflowers? Growing up in the city, there was barely anything to see in the sky as it is often obscured by skyscrapers. But whenever she could, Sally would often wake up and watch the sunrise. She often grows a small sunflower every season, and she sometimes watches the sunrise with it before she works.

Cactus Flowers? Mater thinks they're pretty. Also, he once accidentally landed in a cactus patch, and stumbled across the most beautiful cactus flower he'd ever seen.

Roses? Red like Lightning's paintjob.

Marigolds? Lizzie's memory may be terrible, but she can still remember when Stanley would bring her bouquets of marigolds back when they were younger.

Lavender? Doc really enjoyed the scent.

Poppies? Red likes growing em!

Buttercups? To and for his one and only dearest.

Etc. Etc.

[lazlolullaby]

The Secret Saturdays: Post Script Season AU

so this is set a little bit after the series ends, give the Saturdays a few months to rest and relax.

And then they get a call from Argost's lawyer.

Tldr: the Saturdays have to film a season of Weird World in order to get legal access to help the cryptids that are stuck there. (I mean they are absolutely breaking and entering to get to them fast, but. Legal is better.)

Below is an outline/not!fic

Argost's will was a mess to figure out. And he stipulated that the Saturday family get the mansion and legal access to the cryptids, on one condition:

The Saturdays have to Finish Weird World. 10 episode mini series 42 minutes an episode.

It's Argost's final revenge, making the family that was hurt in these walls stay there for an extended period of time. Expose them to all of the stresses and pitfalls of fame.

Just by nature of being a "wrap up season" with another cast (and presumably crew, it's unclear if Argost + Munya handled all of the filming and editing themselves.). The Weird World fanbase is not going to be happy.

There were press releases, opening interviews, etc confirming that the tone wasn't going to be the same. but the backlash was immediate. Full down voting on Rotten tomatoes. Calling "woke" and "forced diversity" because Zak is mixed race and Drew isn't "technically American".

The Saturdays know they're not in it for the fame, the show is an obligation, not a passion. But it still hurts a bit.

"what, do you think we can actually copy Argost? Live up to his level of theatrics? He's passionate about his things, we're passionate about ours."

The tone of the show is more pg-13 rather than nearly R. More edutainment than horror stories. "Things like what we want our son to actually watch."

The episodes follow a pattern: cold open with a single handheld camera a la Blair Witch Tapes. Then the opening credits.

then it's standard 2 camera sitcom. The overarching plot is the Saturday family study cryptids, and while Argost is "away", he needed someone to take care of the house. Things like tending to the garden, exercising the cryptids, returning cryptids once they've healed, returning illegal artifacts, etc.

The first episode is introducing the house, the set up, the Saturday humans. That they can't just get a tent and sleep outside; a fast moving Zon yanks it out of the ground.

At the end of episode one: "Zak, I know you think you're ready. But you are not immediately going to befriend a cryptid. They are literally traumatized animals and might be unpredictable. Do not think that you're special because you know what you're doing. You're still in as much danger as anyone else."

And at the end of the hallway: glowing red eyes. Zak: "please let me be special." And a huge gorilla cat walks up to him. Cut to credits.

Second episode introduces Fiskerton, Komodo, and Doyle. ("We have to be very clear that Drew and Doyle are siblings right up front." "Why?" "Luke and Leia." "Say no more.")

Episode topics: basic hiking safety, tick prevention and care, stretching before exercise, a trip out to the lagoon for scuba diving, (big shout out to this fic), basic first aid, basic american sign language, PTSD care with Fisk + Drew, lab safety, disability care with Doc's blind eye, even racial discrimation when Zak and Doc go into town for supplies. Because they're going to get cancelled anyway Zak found it funny to include LGBTQ+ rights and history, how many animals have homosexual tendencies, transgender clownfish, polygamous animal relationships and so on.

Cryptids are always seen in the background/being worked on. Drew focuses on historical research, Doc focuses on science research.

The running joke is every episode they keep mentioning Yetis or alluding to Yeti mythology but they never actually show one on screen.

Of course there's bonus features like a gag reel, Zak flubbing lines and Fisk standing in for him, Komodo tripping everyone and general hugs and head smooches.

There's a post show Q and A a year later going over some "odd choices" in production. And debunking the persistent fan theories like Argost is the Blackwell's long lost father, Fisk is Kur and just hiding it, things like that.

Zak sometimes uploads quick PSAs to the Weird World twitter equivalent. Either quick sentences or short videos. He keeps it as a side hobby, more interested in teaching people than any ratings or fame.

And to throw some Omniverse into the mix:

When aliens are revealed to the public, Zak puts out a short video about learning about different cultures and acceptance.

When public opinion of Ben 10 becomes sour, Zak reaches out to Plumber Public relations. He breaks down Will Harangue's most recent monologue and advises how to spot manipulative editing, logical fallacies, and propaganda.

Ben tries to get a spot in Zak's channel to boost his influence, but Zak steadfastly refuses unless Ben can come up with a PSA. "You made me write an essay. And you made it easy."

Zak invites aliens to talk on his channel, and it does a lot for public opinion of aliens.

[shirogane-oushirou]

poppy red, chocolate cosmos, and maroon for ren? :3c

nick my friend nick~!! hope you're having a friend lead-up to valentines day with kylar and rika and the squid kids~~~! you're going to have a busy day KJNASKJDN. 🙏🏻💕 ty for the ask!!!

Poppy Red: How familiar is your f/o about Valentine's Day or their source's equivalent of it? What's their opinion of it?

ren has had a number of partners in the past, and so has had multiple experiences with valentines day, ranging from "that was... fine...!" to "DISASTER" :'( he tried to make up for a socially isolated childhood by finding Someone. Anyone. to be in a relationship with, and he'd often flip from completely overdoing things to trying to play it too casual. his partners would inevitably leave feeling some level of disappointed... so the day's somewhat tainted by bad memories. that plus his general negative feelings towards holidays (family shit yippee) makes valentines supremely stressful for him, even though the /CONCEPT/ of the day seems nice! it takes someone with similar social expectations and views of most holidays (hieeeeee. smile.) to finally find a good middle ground approach to the day that works for both of us!.... it still stresses him out though. poor thing. 😫

Chocolate Cosmos: If your f/o was talking about you to someone like a close friend, how exactly would they talk about you? How would they describe you? Characterize you? And how often do they talk about you to other people?

before dating, doc! and v!ren spend a lot of time trying to avoid the fact that he likes me (doesn't want a repeat of past bad relationships, doesn't want to ruin something good, etc), so i feel like he's the "oh they're such a fun FRIEND, i love being their FRIEND, my FRIEND ro showed me this thing--" type, like he's trying to convince himself that that's how he sees me. most others see right through him though KJASNDKJN. r!ren doesn't have as many hangups about his relationships so he's more straightforward. if he was talking to his coworkers, he'd keep things to a Normal level. he'd mention me if he needed to refer to me for something ("oh, ro said that movie was good, do you recommend it too?" "ro and i went to a botanical garden this weekend, how about you?"), though if he was watching me stream art during a lunch break and someone asked about it, he'd fawn over me ("YEAH it's cool right? that's my FRIEND ro, they drew all of these things, look look look you can see them drawing now, they're--") kJNASDKJN. around his sister, though? no holds barred. she's the one who puts it in his head that he's ALLOWED to try romance again, and that i seem sensible and that we'd be fairly attuned to each other, so ofc she's the one he always goes to if he needs to gush. i think he'd focus on my perseverance and passion, but also my art skills, the efforts i've made to improve myself, the "gap moe" between my resting blank face vs my care for others + excitement over my interests, and uhhhhh how cute he thinks i am KJNSKJN. and i think he'd want to stress how much calmer he feels in our relationship. his past relationships all ended up being pretty shallow and unhealthy because he wasn't in the right mindset for it. now that he has a relationship that, even on days when we don't agree w each other, is infinitely healthier and easier... he wants anyone listening to know that i'm irreplaceable to him.

Maroon: What are both of your love languages? How much do they clash and/or mesh with each other?

his are quality time + physical touch, mine is acts of service. i feel like we've worked things out pretty well, actually! when he's done with work, we'll spend the evening just sitting together, snuggling and enjoying each others' company and catching up on each others' days. i like to cook nice meals for him when i can; no matter which ren it is, he could use a little extra nutrition sjkdfn. if i'm in his place, i also like to tidy up while he's out, and with my health situation, i deeply appreciate when he goes out of his way to bring things to me or help clean things around my place when i can't get up ;;; 😭 and we'll sometimes do things that combine all of our languages together!! once in a while, we'll take a night to shower together, one of us sitting in a shower chair while the other thoroughly washes their hair and body, massaging their scalp and helping them relax, and then we switch places. then we get into soft pjs, dry each others' hair, maybe continue with some skincare... yknow. just. spending time really focusing on each other, connecting physically in a non-sexual way, and doing something kind to help let out tension. 🥺💕

(ask game here)

[docholligay]

Oh my god, I LAUGHED ALOUD, this guy came in on his fucking powered scooter looking like a douche IMMEDIATELY. Perfect. i could not have planned it better myself. i'm still laughing.

[quinloki]

Family Ties

Fem Reader x Donquixote Doflamingo

CW: Language, violence, blood, moral ambiguity, murder, sexual themes and situations 18+ only

Chapter 1 - Table of Consent -

Chapter 11: Message Received

The meal at Q's was normal enough. To any passerby you didn't stand out, both of you in casual sweats and having easy conversation. You talked about books, and music, and dabbled a little in each other's pasts.

His relationship with his father had been as strained like yours, but his father died by his own hand. You admit you raised an eyebrow at that, but if you had been armed on that day during the Moim, you might have done the same. You told the story of your scars and tattoos as he asked about them. When you were dressed all that showed were a few scars, so the topic certainly pulled your mind back into the day's earlier activities.

Some were benign, you'd gotten a few scars just from learning how to fight, and one from falling out of tree that netted you a compound fracture. The one under the Lotus tattoo was from the first time you had to take someone's life to save your own. You talked about the event with a smile on your face, but you could see the frown twitching on Doffy's face.

"Why a lotus tattoo?" He inquires, taking a sip of his drink, the meal long done.

"Ah, it was Robin's idea – she runs the flower shop. Lotuses, Lotusii?" You wave your hand, "They're symbols of rebirth and regeneration. Seemed fitting. Though, once I did that, I realized I liked tattoos. I have more restraint in getting new ones than the doc does."

You sip your drink, looking at him over the rim of the glass. If you weren't already feeling the soreness in your bones from earlier, you really would suggest a second round. "What do you think of flowers?"

He seems to genuinely consider the question. "I have nothing against them. Proper arrangements can be useful for more than just gifts. I didn't make any of the decisions for the garden," he offers, anticipating your next question. "But I can appreciate its beauty."

The conversation continues, and you both laughed when the waitress asked if you wanted any dessert.

Like a proper gentleman, Doflamingo drives you to your house and even walks you to the door. You look at his watch and note the time.

"11:57pm," you muse, your face going red despite your best efforts. "A few minutes longer and you'd no longer need to keep your word, Mr. Donquixote."

"Are you inviting me in, my dear?" The tone in his words makes the heat rush up your neck.

"I am terribly tempted, but I need to be up at 6 to make it to work on time," you admit, running your fingers over his hand lightly before finally letting go entirely. The desire to stay together for just a second longer was obvious from both of you.

He takes your hand in his before you can pull it back completely and brings it up to his lips as he bends low. "Then I will end the day a gentleman, and look forward to our next meeting, my dear." His voice slides over you as his warm lips kiss the back of your hand.

Your hand was hot, your face was hot, your brain was mush, and you were legitimately tired. You couldn't form any words for a moment, and manage only a meek, "Indeed." Before turning away to step into your home.

You feel the storm door move away from you, as his hand grabs your wrist and his other hand slips over your eyes. You had managed to step up onto the threshold, and you could feel his body against yours. There was a rush in your heart. You had no reason to fear him, but you could hear the desire in his voice and the heat in his words as he purrs near your ear.

"It's 12:01, miss (Y/N)." The chill that slips down your back has you, for a brief moment, hoping that it would be a few more hours before you got any sleep. The hand that had been holding your wrist pulls your shirt collar to the side with a rough motion, you get a hand over your mouth just in time to stifle the loud moan caused by hot lips against the crook of your neck.

It was a sweet pain that pushes pleasure into your body and it was going to be an unmistakable mark the next day. His tongue against your skin was the parting pleasure of it all, "Rest well, my dear," and when he lets go of you, you stagger a step forward.

By the time you risk looking over your shoulder he was nearly in the car. You were sure you saw a smile on his face before he shuts the door. 

Despite everything, you did manage to fall asleep easily.

The next morning, you make your way over to Robin's floral shop and help with getting things open and rolling.

"Are you feeling well, you seem to be injured." She asks with an oddly knowing smile and then adds, "Hopefully it's not some seemingly benign injury that turns into a life-threatening terminal illness."

You snort. "I'm fine. I just, uh, used muscles I hadn't used before last night and I'm paying for it today."

Her smile this time was even more knowing. "Seems that they were utilized properly," She muses. "Perhaps well enough to warrant a gift of thanks?"

"Perhaps." You admit. "Is it desperate to send flowers the day after?"

She laughs. "Most people ask me if it's wrong for a lady to send flowers to a man."

"I'd say 'most people aren't me', but honestly, thank fuck for that." You smirk, finishing the last bits of morning inventory. "I've got some time before I have to be at Zoro's, anything you might want me to, uh, pass along?"

"No." Her smile this time was something different. "He came in yesterday and stared at my language board for so long I thought he had died while standing, and then he asked me to dinner this Wednesday."

"D'aww, that's adorable." You were looking forward to teasing him already. After a moment's thought you turn to Robin. "I... think I do want to send some flowers. I can't deliver them though." If you made a delivery to the estate you'd end up missing work for Zoro.

"Nami'll be in shortly, what were you thinking of sending?"

"Something pink. Really, really pink."

"And the message?"

"Hmmm..." you tap your chin thoughtfully. "Can you make Apple Blossoms, Wild roses, and sweat peas work?"

"Oh my."

You blush and smile. "Yesterday went well. Maybe jumping in with both feet will turn out poorly for me in the long run, but I made the choice and I'll see it through."

"You never have been one to mull things overlong." She admits. "I've always been impressed with how well it works out for you."

"Thinking too much causes more problems." You twist your hair and tuck it under the cap for Zoro's delivery service. "Besides, I multi-task, I work and mull at the same time."

You gave Robin the rest of the delivery details, with a nagging feeling she didn't actually need them, and then headed over to Zoro's to work for the day. You used the walk between the two places to check your phone for the first time that day.

Trouble: I hope you slept well.

You smile as you started typing.

(Y/N): Surprisingly so.

(Y/N): Also you'll be receiving a delivery later today, please don't accidentally intimidate the delivery girl.

There wasn't much time until your phone vibrated.

Trouble: I haven't yet repaid you properly, and I'm receiving a gift?

(Y/N): A message, not a gift.

Trouble: You could call and simply tell me.

(Y/N): I could. But some things are better if you sort them out on your own.

Trouble: A puzzle, then.

(Y/N): Close enough. Stop prodding, let me surprise you a little.

Trouble: Very well.

When you got into Zoro's shop you didn't even get the chance to flash your best Cheshire grin at him before his ears were pink. You squealed despite yourself.

"Hey, (Y/N)."

"Hey? 'Hey' is all I get? Not a 'thanks for telling to read the sign, (Y/N)', not a 'got a date with Robin (Y/N)'. No, instead I get 'hey'." You imitate his voice at the end, and watch his whole face go as red as his ears before you start laughing.

"I promise I will keep my teasing to a minimum, I'm really happy for you." You assure him, smacking him on the back and few times and marveling at how it was kind of like smacking a brick wall.

Your phone buzzes again and you look to see an unexpected text.

Robin: Did you lose a pocketknife?

(Y/N): No, I only have a box-cutter and it's in my pocket.

Robin: No worries then.

The exchange with Robin fell out of your mind as you got to work for Zoro. The best part about working for him was catching up with the rest of the city. You made small talk with people as the day went on, even got to see Eustass and Law since they had parts and stock for their respective jobs to be delivered. You lingered at Law's, there hadn't really been time to connect since you used his place.

He played the role of 'over protective father' well, and wasn't terribly pleased to hear that you were getting cozy with an international underworld mob boss. To him it was bad enough you were caught up in as much of Pop's world as you were, but he hadn't even met you until you'd gone to college, so there wasn't much he could do about that.

"Don't worry yourself sick now, doc." You tease. "Historically, I've been safer around gang members than not."

"History doesn't always repeat, (Y/N)-ya." He growls. "If things go bad though, you can still use the clinic."

"Thanks, dad." He throws a freshly emptied box at you, and you laugh.

Around 2pm your phone vibrates with a new text.

Trouble: Seems I will need to make time to visit Miss Robin's shop.

You grin, delighting in the butterflies that seem to happen every time you got a message from him.

(Y/N): Seems so.

Throwing caution to the wind as you had told Robin you were going to; you sent another text.

(Y/N): Any chance we could share a meal tonight?

Trouble: It would have to be at the estate, I don't have enough time today to leave.

(Y/N): I did say I would be back. Dinner's not a bad start.

You hit send before you could reconsider your words and flinch a bit at the implication.

Trouble: Already promising future visits?

(Y/N): ... yes.

You didn't need to explain the weight of a promise from you. You didn't soften it with 'as long as I'm welcome'. Just a terribly complex response tied into three small letters, and it was enough to hopefully get your intentions across.

Even after committing to jumping in with both feet, you found yourself afraid that you would be summarily rejected.

Even if you do get rejected, you'll survive, deep breaths (Y/N).

Trouble: I'll send Lao, when are you done with work?

(Y/N): 4:30 – If I may be greedy, I would appreciate he pick me up from Zoro's, and give me a ride back to my place so I can shower and change real quick.

Trouble: That's hardly greedy. Sore?

(Y/N): After tossing boxes all day, yes, more than I expected.

Trouble: Your honesty is refreshing, my dear.

You scoff.

(Y/N): I can't imagine anyone risking lying to you.

Work picked up for both of you after that, but you could almost hear his bemused chuckle as a reaction to your words. Aside from his family, you doubt he believed the words coming from anyone's mouth until they were proven beyond a doubt.

Lao was neither late, nor early, the old guy pulled up just as you were saying goodbye to Zoro for the day.

"Is it rude for me to ask if I could ride up front with you, Lao?"

"Not at all, young miss." He says, opening the passenger door for you. You appreciate that it's okay, since you didn't want to sit in the backseat and have your mind wander to the things that happened back there.

"If I ask anything rude, Lao, please feel free to let me know," you start, and began peppering the driver with questions as you took an easy ride to your home. You ask how long he's known Doflamingo, if he'd always been the chauffer, and other random questions.

Lao said he met the young master just before he got into modeling, and he wasn't always the chauffer – but he didn't offer what he had been beside that, and you didn't ask. He answers almost everything politely, and with a neutral tone, not unlike his boss.

You offer for him to come inside and have some tea, but he states he had to stay with the limo. You clean up and change and are back in the passenger seat in twenty minutes. This time you asked Lao questions about the family – what foods they liked (Machvise knew better than Lao, since he oversaw most of the cooking), who was his favorite (the young master aside, he had an unsurprising soft spot for Sugar), and other benign questions.

When you got close to the estate, you shifted gears.

"Alright, this next question is super serious Lao, so I'm going to answer it for myself before I ask you."

"Alright young miss, do your worst."

"No wrecking the limo, now."

"I shall do my best." Lao was surprisingly chill once you got him talking.

"Have you ever had to take a life, Lao," You question, you didn't look at him, so if his expression gave him away, you wouldn't rudely see it. "I have."

He was stone cold at the question itself, but when you answered for yourself, the limo swerved just ever so slightly. If you hadn't known how rock steady this guy's when driving, you wouldn't have even noticed it.

"That's quite the question, and statement, miss."

"Sure is." You admit. Your tone is light, but your face is serious. "I know where I am, and I just wanted you understand that. Since you seem to have a soft spot for nice young ladies."

There was some silence as you pulled into the estate proper. Lao parks, gets out, opens your door and offers a hand. When you step out he gives an interesting smile, almost like he was greeting a grandchild home for the holidays.

"The young master said your intuition was impressive, young miss."

[downatfraggleblog]

Riley's Fraggle Rock Reviews!

Season One, Episode Three- Let The Water Run

Greetings, reader! So glad to have you back. Today's episode is gonna highlight Red Fraggle, as well as a curious group of Fraggles who will never be seen again. Take that as you will. Cue the first gif!

(You’re playing a dangerous game of “Peek-A-Boo,” Gobo.)

Doc's busy fixing the boiler up in the workshop. Sprocket's "helping", and Gobo is waiting behind the hole in the wall to snag his postcard. He's brought Wembley with him this time, and tells him he'll get the card "like a thief in the night".

Doc's digging through a box for a gasket (more proof that he and Sprocket just moved here- he's still got boxes to unpack!), and while he's distracted, Gobo snags the card. Sprocket however, is far more observant, and lunges for the little Fraggle... until Doc asks for that wrench over there. After Gobo rushes back into the hole, panting, Wembley asks if he's doing alright. he reassures Wembley that "there's nothing to it!" The two of them proceed to run back to the Rock, yelping in terror (Gobo’s honk is especially amusing- if you’re keeping up on watching with me at home, keep an ear out for it!).

Back in Fraggle Rock, Red's putting up a lot of decorations. What's the event? Why, none other than her swimming extravaganza (the first of its kind)! Mokey brings in some costumes she's made, and Red tells Mokey that costumes are *her* department. So it seems is scenery, and publicity- as she callously dismisses a poster Wembley's made for her without even looking at it. "Is there anything we can do?" Gobo asks, and Red says nope! "I can do it on my own".

Oh wait, that's our first song already? Kind of an awkward transition here, from her saying the line to music suddenly starting up. This song is, of course, about how Red can do anything and everything to prepare for the extravaganza. It's a fine enough song, if a little on the nose. It's clear that Red's in the wrong here, and completely oblivious to the fact that she's hurting her friends. As she dances off screen, Mokey supposes she'll just head out to the Garden to pick some radishes.

She is quickly stopped by Junior Gorg, who is guarding the entrance to the outside world just in case any Fraggles sneak through. He in turn gets pulled away by Pa, when his dad ropes him into dramatic battle reenactments.

(Ooh, how details like this drive me wild! Is this a real map of a real Gorg Empire? Was there ever *really* an empire?)

Pa’s got the whole battle planned out. Junior, on the other hand, doesn’t know or care what he’s supposed to do as the enemy army. Admittedly, I enjoy the little stint into Gorg comedy, but Ma cuts things short when it's time for His Highness' Royal Bath. Pa apparently HATES bathtime, but Junior, glad to get out of battle, readies the water. He amicably says hello to the pump as he begins to gather buckets of water. Down in the Great Hall, Wembley pushes for Red to please look at the picture he worked so hard to make her. She dismisses him again, saying she's too busy, and heads off.

At the bottom of the Gorg's well is the source of their pump's water, the Fraggle Pond. Just as Junior pumps above, water drains below. Look to the gif on the left for a cute bit of humor as the water drains:

Wembley: “Why does it disappear every day?”

Junior: “Why does Daddy takes a bath every day?”

Mokey explains to Wembley that nobody knows why the water drains, but when it does, the Pipebangers come, and they bang the pipes until water flows back into the pond once more. Of course, her vision of it is much more sweepingly beautiful and poetic than how some other Fraggles would describe it (Red sums up the deed in one word— “wet”). Speaking of, here come the Pipebangers!

There’s another jolt from no sound design to sudden music as they come on the scene, but there’s a very groovy instrumental from the rhythm section as they come on the scene, and a fun percussion piece as they (as the name suggests) bang on the pipes. I don’t normally link instrumentals, but I’ll link this one because it’s a great deal of fun. Pipebangers!

(You may notice I didn’t put their group’s name in bold. That’s because, despite all the worldbuilding put into this episode, the Pipebangers are never seen again after their debut. This is due in part to changes in writing and in set design, both of which deemphasize pipes and pipe-banging as time goes on. This is an ongoing trend, by the way— the original opening had the Fraggle Five pipe-banging while they sang!)

When they finish, everybody looks to the pool expectantly… and nothing happens. Back in our world, Doc has apparently just turned off the water while he fixes the boiler. (Maybe it’s because of how many times I watched the episode for this review, but I find it odd that Doc’s house is the sole water source of not only the Fraggles, but the giant Gorgs, too. They all surely are drinking and swimming and bathing in a *lot* of water, and it’s all coming from one man’s house? Who were they all getting water from before Doc moved into the workshop? I’m sorry, but this is the one part of this whole water chain that I just don’t understand. Maybe if it was coming from Doc’s whole town…)

Red, having apparently been too busy decorating to notice, comes back to find the pond empty, and does a double-take when the Arch-Pipbanger (oldest of their sect) tells her that there is no water: “What do you mean there’s no water?! Bang the pipes!!” But it’s no use— the Arch-Banger tells her that pipes work in mysterious ways. Red exclaims that “millions of billions” of Fraggles (I’m sure an exaggeration..?) are coming to see her swimming extravaganza though, and the Arch-Banger asks if he can come too, because he just loves swimming shows. Red storms away from the empty pond in frustration.

Meanwhile, at the head of the pump, the water’s stopped coming out. Junior goes in to warn his parents, but Ma dismisses him and asks for one more bucket. Junior continues to find no water from the pump, and returns to tell his folks once more. Pa (who was playing navy in the tub) boisterously quotes to Junior what their ancestor Gorgus the Great used to say: “There is always water!”

(Hey, where did Ma’s eyelids get off to? She doesn’t have them at all this episode!)

Back in the Rock, everybody’s upset about the lack of water, but most especially Red, who slumps on a stone next to Wembley and Mokey. Gobo comes in to read the group his uncle’s postcard from this morning, but Red doesn’t have time for one of Matt’s silly fairy-tales. Gobo promises her this card will be very interesting. Today, Matt’s discovered creatures that can pull water from the sky.

He describes a group of Silly Creatures (humans) who all stand around a ritual site (bus stop), and use a strange device called an “umbrella” to draw water down from the heavens. First they look up, then they put their hands out, then pull their “umbrellas” up from under them, and whoosh! Down comes a plume of water (rain). After a small child comes out of the crowd to shelter Matt from the storm, he observes that the umbrella not only can make you wet, but keep you dry as well.

After Gobo finishes reading the card, Red calls phoney (This is a reoccurring trend throughout the series, by the way. Remember she didn’t believe the Mouth to Outer Space existed in Beginnings?). Gobo in turn calls her bluff. “Umbrellas” are real, and there’s one in the Workshop— he saw one there this morning. Red decides she needs to go get it, and Gobo warns her that she shouldn’t, she’s never been out there and it’s dangerous. But Red can do it on her own, and defiantly charges off to the Mouth of Outer Space. Mokey and Wembley ask Gobo to stop her before she gets hurt, and he promises to make sure she’s safe.

Red is a very athletic Fraggle, and has already made her way to the Fraggle Hole at the end of the tunnel. Something doesn’t feel right, though.

Wheezing steam pipes surround her, and Sprocket bays just outside the gateway. Try as she might to reassure herself, she just can’t seem to make it across the threshold. Maybe if she holds her breath, and runs out? But no avail. Fear is too strong.

She almost leaps out of her sweater when Gobo appears behind her. He tells her he’s only up here because he needed to stretch his legs. “Did you get the umbrella yet?” Gobo asks. Red tells him she’s just about to dash out there and get it, and Gobo responds coolly that he’ll just wait right here, if Red doesn’t mind. She says she doesn’t, but she’s lying as much to herself as she is to Gobo.

After one more lunge to the tunnel’s end, Red has to face the music— she just can’t do this one on her own. Gobo consoles Red, but she hasn’t said just what she needs to yet, so Gobo begins to head out, until Red finally caves in and admits to him that she needs his help. “I’d be happy to help you, Red!” Gobo replies, “Whoopie!!” And out he goes.

(If my prose didn’t give it away, this is my favorite scene in the episode. The way Gobo slyly gets Red to admit of her own volition that she needs help and the stillness of the scene make it the most powerful in the episode, hands-down.)

Doc’s almost done fixing the boiler, but just a few more things before its ready. Sprocket is excitedly preparing for the water to return by pulling out his washbasin and bath-toys (the only dog I’ve seen that’s excited for bathtime). Gobo sneaks out and grabs the umbrella with no trouble, but finds himself snagged on the way back; seems Sprocket wants to play tug-of-war. Once again, Doc calls upon Sprocket to fetch him a tool, and Gobo scurries back into the hole, umbrella and all.

Back by the Fraggle Pond, Red can finally hand the umbrella to the Arch-Banger, who marvels at the incredible banging-stick. Red tries to explain what the device is and how to use it, but the Arch-Banger assures her he knows a “sacred banging-stick” when he sees one. (I find it interesting that there seems to be some kind of religious connotation around the Pipebangers, based on the dialogue and title of the Arch-Banger.) The old Pipebanger slams the sacred stick on the nearest pipe, and we transition into the last song of the episode, “Please, Water Run” (Finally! A good song transition!).

This is another neat number, and I quite like how it speeds up and changes as it progresses. Nothing much to say about this one, otherwise. Much more interesting to me is what’s going on during the song. Junior gets splashed in the face while trying the pump once more, and runs back inside to tell his folks they were right the whole time. Red thanks the Pipebangers for bringing back the water, and personally thanks Gobo for giving her the umbrella. Then she... kisses him?? (I’m not upset, just kinda seemed outta nowhere, no?)

(Just as a heads up, Red and Gobo are gonna kind of ambiguously have some sort of chemistry for the first part of Season One. It’s short lived however, either because the writers or Red’s performer, Karen Prell, didn’t like it.)

Red finally throws Wembley a bone and puts up his poster, and by the time the song’s over she’s already in costume and ready to perform. She executes the opening dive...

...And falls flat on her face a foot away from the pool. “Wanna see me do it again?” she asks, as she rolls into the water and splashes around to the applause of her friends. The episode ends with Sprocket in his bathtub decked out in bath gear. Doc comes by in a bathrobe and shower cap, and asks to borrow Sprocket’s soap and rubber ducky, promising to not use up all the hot water. Poor Sprockey!

FINAL REVIEW- 4/10

Song Score- 3 Radishes out of 5 Sound design was a little awkward today, heh. Aside from the awkward openings some of the songs had, they were all fine. I didn’t mind sitting through them, even if “Do It On My Own” felt a touch too on-the-nose. “Please Water Run” was my favorite of the bunch, but still low on the list overall.

Story Score- 2 Radishes out of 5 The story was kind of weak this time around, mainly because the actual conflict and resolution of the plot were so fast. While I had fun with Pa and Sprocket’s baths, I feel like they probably took away valuable time from this episode. Red learns that sometimes she’s gonna need a hand to get by, sure, but there’s a lot of emphasis in this episode about how her nearsightedness can negatively effect others, and we never really see her face that and resolve it. She doesn’t recognize what she’s done to Mokey and Wembley, and while she hangs up Wembley’s poster we never see her apologize for dismissing their talents (and she never wears Mokey’s crab costume! That was her flying fish one!). The worldbuilding would make up for it, if it was just a little more streamlined, and if the Pipebangers actually stuck around.

Performance Score- 3 Radishes out of 5 Not much stuck out to me this time. Everybody gave suitable performances, but nothing special. The Pipebangers had some fun visual moments, but not a lot of the personality side characters need to stand out in a show like this. Highlights on the Gorgs, who were obviously having fun, and on Gobo. The way he gently gets Red to admit she needs help without pushing her is fantastically clever and serves his character well. Red herself, on the other hand, just wasn’t it today. All the elements are there in practice, her nearsightedness, her athleticism, and her inability to be vulnerable, but she lacks the energy I know and love from her. Karen auditioned for the role of Mokey initially, so Red being much more low-key like Mokey is doesn’t surprise me. Still, not a great hand to be dealt for her introductory episode. There goes “Let The Water Run,” on the lower half of average. Our lowest score so far, but not one I’m actively angry at (There won’t be many of those, but I’m sure when they come up, those reviews will be interesting reads, haha). It had some good moments, but it’s a little scatterbrained and mediocre. If you disagree with me, I respect your opinion 100%. I have a strong hunch every single one of these episodes is going to be *someone’s* favorite, even if it doesn’t hit the sweet spot for me (I believe this to be true for all art, really).

Thank you so much for reading! Send me a postcard if you have any thoughts of your own to share, and I’ll be back next week for “You Can’t Do That Without A Hat”!

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

Name: Rosalio Rory Wyle

Nicknames: Rose, Little Prince, Sir Wyle (classmates more specially Flint), Rory (his online followers), Royal Pain-in-the-Ass (classmates and Asher and Jac), rosebud (Jac)

Gender: Male

Birthday: August 23rd

Age: 13-14

Height: 5'2

Appearance: Rosalio is very petite and small looking with very fair skin dusted with soft freckles and blush, button nose, big brown storm blue eyes with thick lovely lashes around them that fits with his doll like features, his skin is easily bruisable as evidence of the bruises on his knees and arms from school life

Clothing: Dresses very prim and proper in normal fitting clothes such as button ups and slacks though he does wear a lot of sweaters and overalls since they're easier to remove during P.E. or when he changes into clothes he want which are pretty frilly and "adorable"

Personality: Rosalio is pretty uptight and strict according to those around him, often a goody-toe-shoes as well and some say he comes off a touch arrogant and snobbish/spoiled and hot headed with a quick insulting tongue and annoyed eyeroll, but behind all that he's a very anxious person with issues of being in control of his own things and often would accidentally go through the flows and interests of others instead of his own, he also has pretty bad anxiety of not being accepted to a hangout or being left behind which makes his chicken out on many things even ones that connect with his real interests When you get passed his insecurities and mean front you get a soft inside of a loyal friend who's good with kids

Schooling: First Year of High School

Likes: Strawberries, cute things, bunnies, cookies, cakes, frogs, flowers, gardening, when things are clean and in order, rock music, classical music, history, math, chemistry, praise, roses, tea, iced coffee, matcha bubble tea, doc martens, bees, honey, cream, ocean things, fairy tales, mythological creatures, order, colorful spread sheets, horror games and movies, jazz, French films, K-dramas

Dislikes: The smell of perfume, when there's a big mess he has to clean, his family, cigarette smell, being called spoiled or annoying, racists, sexists, homophobes, the smell of beer, when someone makes a mess of his things on purpose or not, sea food, being touched without being asked first, loud busy areas, loud noises, slurs

Abilities: Okay cook, good cleaner, very smart, good singer, great with kids, listening to others, order

Name Meanings: - Rosalio - Spanish for "rose" - Rory - Old Irish for "red king" - Wyle - Takes after the word "wile" which means "trickster"

Trivia:

- Is the only child of his family, his father a lawyer and mother a housewife daughter of a judge and doctor - His father cheats a lot and accepts bribes while his mother is a user or booze and unlethal pills and medicines and he's often the one to clean up the messes - Because of this he spends half the week in a home called "Home of Wonders" which is a place for youths to hang out and stay at for free and sometimes stay nights in their "friend family" home. People call it the Mad House due to people having issues so he doesn't admit he's there - Jac and Helena Viviladi are his "friend family" and he and Jac don't get along too well - Have yall seen the short "Opal"? Please watch it to see what I was going for on his life - Has bad FOMO but worst anxiety to try to go to parties or hangouts - Has a blog called "Rory's Kingdom" where he uses the persona of Rory who's a popular adventures person who isn't scared of anything

I made Riddle, I have a problem-

[twistednuns]

November 2023

With the rental car still outside my house, I followed Christian's invitation and drove over to Grafing on a gorgeous autumn morning. I enjoyed driving fast, the sunshine, the colourful foliage. Finding the front door unlocked, I got undressed and snuck into bed with him. Played some more with my very versatile washing line. Stood outside in the garden with his housemates talking about chicken duties. Decided to go to the airport together to return the car. Kissing on the bus. On the escalator. Ending up at Flaucher with Mephy, Helmut and BaLu. Talking about our party ideas and support group plans. I loved the concept of a mirrored, yin and yang style location for some sort of duality party.

The drive through the forest. Everything yellow, orange and red. Glimpses of sunlight through the leaves. Listening to some of C.'s favourite tracks.

Picking up Anna from the train station. Spending an afternoon together for the first time, getting to know her a little. Eating baozi in Schwabing, receiving a free tote bag at Motel a Mio after bonding with the girl from Guadalajara, walking over to Haus der Kunst hoping to get into the Inside Other Spaces exhibition but ending up in the bookshop and Goldene Bar. Cherry-chocolate cake. &otherstories. I paid for everything and felt like the fancy/weird aunt (even though we're cousins).

Impulse buys at Doc Martens and H&M Home.

Christian picking me up by car after a few disastrous hours in public transport chaos. Over-caffeinated, cold and wet, not being able to cope with my emotions. He brought me a blanket and bought food for me. We watched a movie and the atmosphere was a little tense so I gave him some space which turned out to be the right decision. In the morning, we talked about everything which felt so liberating. My new favourite things: radical honesty, eye-gazing, slow sex, sugar-roasted almonds on toast.

The baby kitten walking past the terrace door.

Our choir weekend: karaoke street cred +100 (performing a duet with Peter, channelling my inner Nina Hagen), learning all the alto parts, getting to know Anne and Julia and talking to almost everyone else (I even managed to talk to a few people I don't really get along with yet like Christa and Lilo - who really engaged with me after she realized that she hadn't fully accepted my compliment), singing for Kathrin and being offered a solo part immediately - now I have to open the Christmas concert and sing the very first note (I'm scared, what a challenge), finding a wine buddy in Daniela, massaging Regina and giving her a bunch of honest compliments on Sunday, our LeiLeiLei closing dance.

Driving through the car wash on our way back from Freising. It was my first time in what must have been a decade, I was so fascinated that I had to take a video of the whole experience.

Sucking off the soft parts of a still moist / freshly opened ball of mozzarella.

Karlo sending me a whole folder of fantastic photos of Robert and me kissing and playing around with our leash. Some of these are really sensual. I wish I could publish them...

Someone blocking the subway doors for me so I could still board the train.

A neck and jaw massage from Hannah. Helpful exercises. A warm mud pack.

Uli's naked party! Interesting new connections among the guests. Lukas in drag. Christoph who was seemingly fascinated by me. Teasing Sandra. Testing the Triangle Method on Robert (looking into one eye, then the other, then down to the lips). The Katharinas were there, too. I played with Uli, Stefan and Miriam. Painted Robert's legs and gave him a bite mark on his right butt cheek in a competition with Sandra. Mike was there after we texted each other that we were on a way to a party which turned out to be the same event. I had a good conversation with him and BaLu.

Research about the Subspace.

A woman who quietly smiled to herself on the subway listening to music.

The sparkly cat mask I bought for next to nothing.

Salted and roasted pistachios I don't have to peel first.

Running into Andrea who told me about Costa, the cute orange cat who keeps visiting her.

Clementines.

Stained glass. Almost are my glassware is colorful with very thin walls now. Fragile, pleasing, marvellous. I even got matching glass straws. And three new bubble glass candlestick holders. I can't get over how cool they are. I've been obsessed with candles for a few weeks now. Preferably black and twisted. I like how special everything looks in candlelight.

Twisting from Mountain Pose into the Wheel in yoga class.

Showing a girl at school how to draw a cat.

A video call with Chili and Christian. Distracted by my own image on screen; noticing how attractive Christian is.

Following an impulse to rent a car and FINALLY get rid of the content of most of my moving boxes. Sweet salvation.

Watching Notting Hill. Tearing up a little realizing what a fantastic movie it is. Julia Roberts' impeccable late 90s wardrobe.

A very good therapy session talking about communicating boundaries, self worth, hard rest, leveling up, outgrowing people.

Zotter Miso Caramel and Black Sesame chocolate.

Getting my annual Sonnentor tea advent calendar.

Trying on sexy bodies and bras at a lingerie store. I got a silver one with a low neckline and shoulder pads.

Spending a few hours at V-Markt with Robert. We had so much fun but it was also very draining - we got overstimulated quite quickly. We bought Play-Doh, Bud Spencer malt balls, stacked Pombären crisps. More: Holding hands. Advent calendar rating. The softest carpet. Afterwards we had delicious Indian food around the corner (with a huge Hanuman statue outside the entrance) and all the guests at the restaurant wore beautiful traditional clothing.

Almost kissing. Inventing and executing Bite Massage.

Petting a lovely little dog outside the bakery with a warm butter croissant in my hand.

Double Sagittarius energy in my life. These two, really, what can I say. Grateful. (And, come to think of it, Dyana is a Sag, too!)

Watching the girl sitting next to me on the subway eating a bright green Granny Smith apple in the window reflection. A crisp little sound.

Buttered rolls with sea salt and honey.

The clothes swap party I organized with Marah was a great success! So many friends stopped by, found something they liked, enjoyed the vibes and conversations. I talked to Sandra for a while, hoping to resolve our issues. Julian performed some kind of gloved choking/breath retention exercise on me. We ended up at Marah's place and she made dinner for us. A lovely day. I got to know Yeli and the two Alex-es a little better. Offered my services as a stylist. And, last but not least, got rid of a few boxes of stuff I didn't need anymore. Sweet release.

Relying on Robert and fox as phone support on the bad days.

Finding out about Robert's vision and skillset. And that he would make a perfect partner for my business vision. I love how much more resources and support I have than I thought.

Gemstone clusters in my fridge.

One of Lucie's mantras reminded me of Zu Asche, zu Staub from the Babylon Berlin soundtrack. She gifted me her CD after the yoga class!

A long conversation with Sonja about the important stuff. I was super late already but it felt relevant. She told me about her daughter's homosexual relationship. Her husband's brutal suicide.

Renting a karaoke box for Emily's goodbye party. We went full-on more passion/more energy mode and had so much fun. I got lots of compliments for my singing. The facial expressions in the photos were priceless and afterwards we went dancing at a shitty little club and I had fun teasing Chili.

Kathrin checking in on me when I missed choir practice.

Drawing another set of spot-on cards: Postponement/Trust. And the Thunderbolt for Robert. Even he had to admit how relevant it was.

A good therapy session.

Katharina reminding me of the two notes with quotations I got from an art tutor (Karl Schleinkofer) at uni. I rummaged around in a few drawers and actually found one of them!

The illustration of a cute little Earth ball nestled in a pair of hands on the toilet paper packaging.

Getting more and more into classical/epic music.

The affirmation video Anna Zona sent me.

A little get-together with my colleagues. Cold pizza and hard liquor. Attempted karaoke. Connecting with Toni. Coming out of the tech room together just to run into Andrea's arms. Hot gossip.

A trip to IKEA with Robert. Assessing the model rooms, standing in a shower together, testing pillows. Egg McMuffin for breakfast.

The roadtrip to Austria with Christian. What an intense night. I loved our creative/deep talk sessions. How much I trusted him right away. Doing his make-up and really bringing out his features. We looked fantastic. A warm welcome at the party. Our own sneaky projects (like chatting up the blue-haired girl). Boobs. Learning more about myself, my self-worth, jealousy. Watching him engage with others, going through the motions of looking away, taking part and then just leaning back, watching, admiring his work, knowing that I'd go home with him later. So we eventually did, admitting that it just wasn't our scene and the people were really not a good match. And magic ensued. He triggered me emotionally, repeatedly, through pain, through letting me tell my story, and he held me when I was crying. He was there for me and bathed in my openness. We celebrated our kinks, challenged each other (reference: "to gross out"). His grotesque face over me. Resolving the pregnancy discussion, reassuring him. Spending another hour in the car talking instead of going back inside. How we both realized that we want to be there for each other. The phone call right that evening. A video of his fireplace. It all feels quite inevitable.

A rainbow in the misty mountains on the way home.

Meeting Elena at the opening of her creative space at Gasteig. Lava lamp visuals. Talking to Seda. The little interaction with the older guy in the parking garage.

Grading tests using the rainbow ruler D. brought me back from Thailand.

The Amaphupho Trinix remix.

An Archer scholarship application in my mailbox right when I admitted to myself that I needed a career change. Realizing that I still have the free coaching session with Valerie Junger that I can use for this too.

Joy of Connection. Playfulness. A surprise massage from my group (being manipulated, tickled, pressed, pushed...) I felt at totally at ease and enjoyed all the shaking, improvising, spinning, rolling around on the floor with Robert. It was so freaking lovely to have him there. And then there was Christian who worked as a DJ that night. His playlist was absolutely perfect. We didn't interact too much during the session because he had to concentrate but when it was over I lay between him and Robert in the cuddle space and felt so much love for these two men. And in return, loved and accepted. Safe. When I had to leave both of them standing on the subway platform and hop onto my train, I felt a little lost and lonely. I texted them and C. actually called me because he'd noticed and wanted to reassure me. Wow.

Talking about feminist issues and Margarete Stokowski's books with one of the IMMA ladies who offered a workshop at school.

Compliments for my stretchiness and nice handwriting.

Connecting with Claudia. Getting Baba Ganoush wraps at Beirut Beirut together after the workshop.

Singing Shiva Shambo with Lucie. Another great yoga class. I really love what she does.

The choir being super positive and supportive despite my less than perfect solo performance during practice. Peter hugged and motivated me. Fiorina, Regina, Silvia, Monika and Sonja gave me such sweet compliments. Felt grateful and accepted.

Taking my time in the morning, trusting that it would be okay. And it was. I got a lot of stuff done (how fantastic is morning energy™?!), packed my bags, stayed calm even when the subway was super late and when I had to pay 50€ extra for a new train ticket. In the end I had my seat and even BaLu and Marah found me!

Some of my highlights from Burn on the Rocks: Marah and BaLu found me in the train after a few annoying complications. Sweet! Then he sat next to me and we had an interesting conversation during our smooth journey to Vienna. There, we had lunch at an "original" Viennese restaurant. Cheap food (roasted dumplings!), Wiener Schmäh, learning about Krampus cards. On the bus, I developed an idea to create a Magical sorting hat for playa names with BaLu and Oz. / a lovely greeting ceremony, eating pussy (cookies), spontaneously welcoming Ariana later that night with David when she showed up after the gate opening hours / doing Luna's make-up - graphic liner to match her bottle green latex dress / whispers in Spanish, directly into my ear. Sensual ASMR. / Thanksgiving dinner (!) cooked by Toni the Beast, an Americal who'd brought her mum all the way to Austria to help her prepare the food; holding hands at the table and giving thanks / kissing Nagu on the dancefloor, letting him tell me the story of how he met Galya (in Zipolite!) / feeling the love with Mephy's interactive emotion machine - I even teared up a little because I realised how grateful I am for all the beautiful people in my life and how positive everything has turned out for me / a sensual workshop (home brew because the facilitators didn't show up) with David, Stefan and Susi - we fulfilled each other's wishes and mainly massaged, bit, pushed and teased / later I connected with Féj and she allowed me to explore her body / my first squirting demonstration - impressive range / Acid Friday with Luna (dancing to Eye of the Tiger in the courtyard) and David (lying in the cloud cube together, playing with the squishy tentacle toy, caressing him, feeding him plums and dry bread with Toni in a smoking hot KGB outfit) / Alex's Metal Massage, a multisensory and in this case rather trippy experience - I loved the soundtrack, the graveyard smell, the pressing and drumming on my body, almost like demons coming to get me / connecting with Ladybird from Portugal and Kevin from Scotland / Meeting Luki A., a fantastically talented saxophone and clarinet player from South Tyrol. A local politician, architect and one of the organisers of the event; he walked around bare-chested, only covered by a little fur cape and his very cool tattoos. I followed his invitation to hop into the air bed with him. We really connected. He told me I was beautiful. A goddess. Introduced me to Ableton. We sang together one morning and then I listened to him jamming with someone while painting with acrylics. What a peaceful moment. He took care of me and kept his promise, just showed up at my bedside one night, checking in on me, holding space. He even got me out of bed and I'm so grateful because I had a lovely night - what a turnaround. He was my teammate in the K-lympics and we retreated to the sofa or cuddle space more than once to ground ourselves and come down together. / the Zen Garden in the kitchen - what a party treat / Saturday Late Night Kitchen Party - everyone danced ecstatically and I felt SO good. Fantastic music, legendary mood. Worshipping Ladybird's and Galya's breasts. What a lovely way to end the weekend after my usual low mood during the Effigy burn. / Mephy coming up with a new nickname for me, inventing a name game for everyone / asking Féj "do you even know what we are doing here?" when our legs were taped together and we were about to do an egg race / going to Nowhere with Mephy's VR goggles / BaLu's box of Jelly Beans in ever flavour / drawing on the rainbow scratch pads in my favourite toilet - ah, and the 00's boy and girl band toilet!

Ordering a Mathmos lava lamp in the middle of the night. It's orange and purple with a copper metal case. I feel like a very happy millennial watching the bubbles float up and down. Blast from the past. I must have had a very similar one in my room when I was a kid.

Peter offering to practice my choir solo with me because he'd noticed how nervous I was. And it really helped to scream that song into a microphone in his basement a few times.

Franky's friend saying hello when he saw me on the street on our way home in the middle of the night.

A long phone talk with Christian. Catching up, sharing ideas, making plans. Sad to hang up after two or three hours, not able to cuddle up to the person on the phone screen.

The fact that I've "only" got a cold so I'll still be able to do all the things I wanna do. Grateful for the little things because let's face it: it could be SO much worse.

Being satisfied with my last solo performance during dress rehearsal. I just sang more quietly and it helped a lot.

Delicious Vietnamese food at a lunch date with Becky. Herbal strawberry and basil seed lemonade.

Sebastian repaired my bike for free!

A slow and cozy morning. Christmas porridge in the bathtub. Getting a lot of stuff done. Having a little time to myself. I felt so calm. I even listened to a few classic Christmas tunes and made a huge pot of tea.

Lucie's Thursday yoga class. More challenging asanas, more advanced teachings.

Making myself a gooey mushroom wrap for dinner. Mmh!

My new electric purple cashmere beanie. So soft.

[harrison-abbott]

B Movies

There was a fire up at the high school. Mrs Petrie broke her leg. She was always one to panic when there were loud noises around her – high volume made her scared. And whilst she was ushering the children out of the geography classroom and down the claustrophobic staircases she tripped and fell down the steps and landed on her shins and her left leg was broken. The children stood staring at her; whilst a cone on the upper corner of the ceiling flashed in ruby raging red. “I can’t move!” she yelled at a group of boys. Who usually hated her. Most of the children disliked her because she belonged to that old bracket of sadism and mindless respect for one’s elders. And she had a crackly temper. And only taught geography because that’s what she did at university, a long, long time ago; and she certainly wasn’t young anymore, with the brown teeth and the wine-bottle shaped body and the five foot two height; and she had no kids of her own and lived alone in a small flat and had very little friends.

Two of the boys helped her up. And then held her shoulders whilst she staggered on her right leg down the stairs, with the screaming alarms all around her. In the playground outside she found her forehead lathered in sweat. The kids stared at her, curious to see her injured. She rested against the wall. And she took her mobile phone out and called for 999. They took her to the hospital. It was the first time she had ever broken anything and for the sixty two years before today she had been proud that no bones of hers were ever broken. It would take around two months to heal. And the headteacher gave her that time off. Mrs Petrie’s main (well, her only) passion in life was to garden. On weekends she would be in her garden working at her flowers. She could do nothing but sit in her living room with her garden right there. The squirrels and birds came – she watched them through the patio windows – and she envied their mobility. So she drew the curtains up. And watched television instead; anything that was on. There were GET WELL SOON cards from the teachers and pupils that hung above the fake fireplace. She eventually put all of those in the bin. April passed and May passed and it got to June. Throughout the two months the doctor had given her painkillers to help with the leg. That lay there immobile and itching under its cast. They had worked back in April, in the early weeks: when it was two per day she was supposed to take. Then in May she began to take three pills a day. Without quite realising how many she was taking. And then in June she would take one pill before she went to sleep at night, alongside the three daily doses. Then it was two at night. They made her hungry. Her neighbour brought her food from the shop. Noodles and crisps and cakes. She stayed up into the a.m. kingdom. There were erratic B movies on television; action flicks or these tacky rom coms; genres she didn’t used to watch. By the last week of June she was on her last tray of pills. She had called the doctor several times throughout the week to let him know that she needed a new tray. They told her eventually that her doctor was on vacation. So she had to wait for another doctor to get back to her. Then when this other doc called her, she was asleep in the afternoon and didn’t hear her phone. Then in the evening she woke up, finding that she only had five pills left. So she vowed to not have any of them until the next morning. So she got to 4 a.m. – cracked – and dunked three pills into her mouth. And then as she drowsily made her way to her bed with her walking stick, she collapsed, and hit her head on the corridor cupboard. She woke up confusedly thirty minutes later. And went back into the living room, not knowing what time it was. She thought she was drowsy only through sleepiness, and forgot that she’d already taken the trio of pills to get to sleep. So she swallowed the final two pills. And passed out on the armchair. … And her neighbour found her thirty hours later. She wasn’t answering her doorbell so he hopped the fence into her garden and saw her through the patio windows.