#Dust probably take a lot of dusts baths lol

[forgettingcrowbin]

Murdertime trio with wings!

[saturnicos]

Giving a bracelet to them

With: Adam, Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Lucifer

ps:: reader's gender is not mentioned

. Charlie

She absolutely adores! Extra points if it have some decoration with rainbow.

She'll use all the time, only take off when goes to bed and when goes to take a bath — she is worried if she ends up breaking or losing the pieces, so try to be as careful as possible.

As she organizes and takes care of hotel paperwork she tends to feel stressed, and unconsciously looks at the bracelet, a smile forming and her spirits slightly picking up again. She's really happy with the gift.

"Wait, this's for me? Really? It's so pretty, thank you so very much!"

—

. Alastor

He... Definitely have it.

Like, don't get me wrong, he just not knows how really feel about it since he has never received a gift before from anyone, except from his mother.

Deep inside, he actually likes it! The color scheme matching with his clothes, and it isn't so much decorated and colorful; or how he would like to say, simple things are more pretty.

Alastor isn't using the bracelet frequently, most because he not like that type of accessories so much. He'll probably use when is far from you, like a way to remember of you and stuff (this man don't use phone not even if the world frozen), but in the most of the time the bracelet probably will be in the pocket of his coat.

"What do you have there, my dear? Oh, a bracelet, that's very interesting."

—

. Adam

He... Definitely have it/2.

But it's the opposite.

He's a bitch that will probably mock about it, but will quickly change when you feel upset and try to leave him alone, saying something like "Just joking, Sugartits/Hunk, I actually liked that, give me".

He'll use ALL the time, except when he's going to the extermination.

He will 100% brag about the bracelet to anyone when he gets the chance, saying how you spent your time making gifts for him (he's a complete idiot that loved this thing, but will never admit bc high ego lol).

Lute can't stand him talking about this damn accessory anymore, please, she begs you not to give him anything else.

TOTALLY extra points if it has a guitar pendant.

"Of course you make it for me, after all, you are madly in love with me"

—

. Angel Dust

Now, I think it's important to point out that Angel would act a lot more like Anthony with his S/O.

Using this as a base, he'll be SO happy receiving a gift from you. Obviously, he'll make some dirty joke about it, but deep down he wonders why he received it if it's not a specific date.

This poor boy is emotionally broken, little acts like this make him feel so moved and loved ☹️

Every time that him have a breakdown and isolates himself, Fat Nuggets comfort him, laying next to him and gently plays with the bracelet (or if he isn't using, Fat Nuggets will pick it up and take it to him, as if knowing it is an object of comfort).

"A gift? For me? You're so kind, baby~."

—

. Lucifer

Listen to me: this man would probably feel so much like crying — with joy — and nothing convinces me otherwise.

He'd passed the lasts seven years alone, without any love or compassion, having you in his life it's a great gift for him. Now, receive a gift from someone that he considers his greatest gift? God-

He would also be one of the will use all the time. Seriously, this guy probably don't take it off in any occasion, it's a regular reminder that there is someone else besides Charlie who loves him.

He's so grateful to have you.

Later, he'll make matching necklaces with duck pendants for you, he thinks that's a lovely way to say thanks :)

"What is this, sweetie? Oh... I'll use, that's so beautiful, thank you a lot."

Thank you for read !! I'm so sorry if this is ooc, but I hope it was pleasant anyway :)

[spotaus]

Hi guys, this is usually what a doodle page ends up looking like <3 (oh, and @ancha-aus thought you might like this! Not writing but certainly fuel to my fire lol-)

This one is New Age filled!!! (Close-ups abd Lore beneath the cut!)

1) Night and Cross!

Night is actually very clingy once he's a teen. He doesn't usually realize it, but around the castle he'll snake to be closer to his Knights so long as there's no one he needs to keep his composure infront of is nearby. Cross is the one who's not used to physical touch (when it's not Ink ofc) so Night in his personal bubble makes his heart melt but also scares tf out of him <3

2) Error and Night's Meeting!

Error was carrying his whole life on his back and trying not to get arrested for unintentional property damage at this point, so when he saw the chance to get back at his brother and prove he was strong enough? Yeah, he got that on chance instantly. And was VERY smug when Nightmare chose him. (Also, Error is wearing gloves, so less Haphephobia)

3) Dream and Blue designs!

I think these are good tentative designs! Dream probably has a more regal fit, but he likes to play up that rugged exile look- He's inspired by Archers, while Blue takes on that classic Knightly-vibe. Their equipment is mostly stolen from Night's troops or brought with them from Blue's home kingdom.

Also, Dream is approx Killer's height at this point, shorter than Cross and *much* shorter than Apple!Nightmare. (Hc that Skeletons tend to be tinier in stature thanks to weird monster beauty standards. Horror and Geno's fam are outliers.)

4) Horror and Dust designs!

Horror is naturally a very *large* monster. He's very malnourished when Nightmare meets him, but by the time he's a Knight Nightmare has made sure that's no longer the case. He actually loves comfy, simple clothes, but to play up the whole 'strong mysterious' bit he wears a more barbaric Knight's garb. He doesn't mind acting scary, it's more fun that way :]. Dust is very very small, and envies horror sometimes for his size, but his tiny stature let's him control his body and move a lot quicker. He's very much based on a rogue, and usually covers the lower part of his face w/ a black cloth, and the upper part w/ his hood or mask. Dust only removes both to bathe, eat, or relax in a safe location. (Ignore that I can't draw the stupid gaster blaster lmao-)

These last two were space-fillers, but Cross and his Borzoi (Windmill, otherwise known as Milly (Killer named her-)) and really bad first wips of Ccino! I think Ccino was a chubby, happy toddler, but lost a lot of 'weight' (bone mass? Magic?) due to stress and pressure and bad eating habits. So it isn't until a while after the Coronation that he starts to relax abd feel safe enough to eat normal meals (Nightmare used to guilt him into eating snacks together, but as his boss (and younger brother) he can encourage it more often). By the time Killer shows he's still not quite healthy, but he's better. As more weight is lifted off his shoulders, the better he is. (That 'beauty' most people saw was a more stereotypical slimness, but Killer never stopped seeing Ccino as beautiful-) I think he never looked traditionally underweight, so no one noticed, and it was only much later that Night processed it. (And maybe it's why Dream hardly recognized him later on-)

[alaskan-wallflower]

rating south park characters on the hugs they give

1st is of course, Butters.

Butters would give the softest hugs imaginable. Hugs are his go to comfort method, and they’re his favorite method of being comforted. As a kid his hugs are probably extremely tight and full of love. You can basically feel it radiating off of him. As a teenager the hugs become less, because I do headcanon he becomes an angrier teenager. He has his small group of friends but he secludes himself. When he does get hugged, he just starts crying at that point. He believes nobody could ever love him enough to actually give him hugs. So when it does happen it’s very special for him. Likewise for the opposite. When he’s giving hugs, it’s rare, but sweet. It starts off looser but then eventually he just starts holding that person with all the strength he has.

2nd would probably be Cartman, shockingly

I only give him this ranking because I feel like if he DOES genuinely care about someone…which he probably never would…he would likely end up giving good hugs. He gives bear hugs, as a kid and as a teenager. Hes soft. Hes VERY soft. Usually the only things he hugs are his mom or his stuffed animals. But his hugs are nearly bone crushing. He would smother the person he’s hugging, either out of malice or out of place of somewhat genuine care. And honestly he probably would smell good. He has good hygiene because his mom probably taught him at a young age. Plus he loves bubble baths lol-anyway. He probably has cheesy poifs stains on his hands but that’s the extent. He gives alright hugs. But it’s rare-VERY rare to receive one. unless you’re a stuffed animal or his mom you likely never will

3rd goes to Kenny

Kenny would give genuinely good hugs. Not perfect. but pretty good. He’s probably really dirty-he’s got dust and rat shit on his parka. but if you really want a hug, he’ll give you one. (He’d probably take off his parka tho). I feel like he’s really lanky, so he just wraps his long ass arms around the person being hugged. His hugs usually start off with his arms just barely grazing the person, but after a moment he suddenly just yanks them into his chest/ He’s not very soft. He doesn’t really have any muscle or fat to soften the hug (at least not as a kid-I like to hdc that Kyle and Butters take notice of how thin Kenny is and how little food he eats and they bring him double lunches at school, and he goes to Kyle’s house to shower. Butters would probably get grounded for letting him in without permission) But as a teenager, he actually gets some muscle and skin on his bones, so his hugs are a lot softer. And tighter. He just presses his body against the person being hugged.

4th goes to Kyle.

I love Kyle. I really do. But I feel like he would either be WAY too rough when it comes to hugging or he’s way too soft. Like he’s barely even touching you and his arm is basically slung over your shoulder. But once he gets it just right, he actually does give very good hugs. Especially to Ike. He isn’t very soft. He’s quite solid. (Like in the way that if you throw him at a glass window he would most definitely shatter it) He’s what I like to call a Goldilocks hugger. He’s either way too hard or way too soft. Because he figures different people like different amounts of pressure. Ike likes really tight hugs while his mom’s back would probably break if he hugged her as tight as he did Ike. Hes kinda awkward about it at first if he doesn’t know you but he will (maybe slightly begrudgingly) hug you while slowly hugging tighter and tighter while repeatedly asking ‘this good?’ It isn’t out of a place of ‘I don’t want you near me” as much as it is “I don’t wanna hurt you and I don’t want you to be dissatisfied with my hug’. He’s like this as a kid and a teenager. But his hugs were softer as a kid. He’s kinda built as a teenager lol

5th is Stan.

I’m sort. But Stan would not give good hugs. ‘Nuff said

[ellenchain]

Hitman question time! Which lockdown hobby did the Hitmanfam take up and who still does theirs to this day?

Ohhh another ask and such a banger! Damn it's a hard question again 💦

I think 47 (somehow the easiest right now) has discovered baking for himself. We see an option in the safehouse with lots and lots of bread - so much bread that I wondered if he doesn't supply a bakery on the side. I also think he has kept the hobby (maybe he just loooooves bread ❤️)

I think Diana used the time to do something more for herself. Finally read the books that were usually just lying around gathering dust. Using the bath additive that had actually expired a year ago but smelled so good but never got used. Catch up on a few series that are now 10 years old but have been recommended to her so often. Maybe there was even a (online) watch date here and there with 47, because he probably had a lot of series to catch up on too. But unlike 47, she kept her self-care to a minimum after covid. Not because she doesn't want to continue, but because everyday life has taken her back.

Probably not much has changed for Olivia, lmao She's a hacker, she hardly ever left the house anyway; she was probably more annoyed that so many people are now permanently online as well. Maybe she has discovered knitting for herself eventually. Or crocheting. So that she can make her own things. But I'm sure she would have learned to do that at some point regardless of the lockdown (“those Etsy products are so cute, but surely I can make them myself!”)

Lucas is soooo hard to judge. It sounds harsh, but I don't think the man has any hobbies 💔 Buying guns, trading guns, cleaning guns. Researching on the internet, reading bad news, smoking a lot, passing out in between and calling it sleep, working out and when he's bored and the intrusive thoughts come back, drinking alcohol. But I think AFTER Providence he will find himself. And I think he would meditate. Find inner peace. It doesn't always work, but it helps him to organize himself. He would certainly keep that up after lockdown. Even if it's not always easy to do it in everyday life.

But what do you think??? It's such an interesting question!

Although tbh they probably didn't stay in lockdown lol - I can well imagine how 47 still went out every day wearing a mask Or Covid won't just hit him like it does to normal people, he's a super human after all

[snzysimper]

Could I perhaps gift you a very rough draft for a Hazbin Hotel sickfic? (I don't have a fetish for it, but I really like sickfics and I have too much anxiety to post my ideas to my blog a lot of the time, so someone may as well get to enjoy them!)

It'd be a chaos comedy with lots of sweet fluff, with an illness spreading around the Hotel and everyone's powers making it manifest differently (and the fluff would be them all, some of them begrudingly, taking care of one another)

Alastor gets the worst of it (because he's my favorite lol) with a very high fever w/some amusing delirium, deep mucusy coughs and sneezes (leaning in to his deer attributes idk how to best describe it but picture an exhausted deer panting), and vomiting

Sir Pentious is hacking up a lot of very toxic mucus, can't navigate since his since of smell is compromised, and he just cannot seem to get warm enough so he's having to be plied with blankets & hot water bottles (because he's such a drama queen that of course he has to be doted on), but also he's such a "gentleman" that he doesn't want to do anything uncouth in front of a lady so he's trying to hide all of his grosser symptoms until he almost chokes and/or runs into walls multiple times and Vaggie is finally just like "omfg stop" and helps him

Baxter is an unfortunate little snot machine, and borderline refuses to leave one of the restrooms because he just wants to soak in the tub and steam the sickness out with hot showers. At some point he'd probably end up overheating himself and have to get an ice bath.

Husk has tiny little kitten sneezes (which he's embarrassed about, Charlie finds them ADORABLE, which makes him even more embarrassed). He'd end up making hot toddies for everyone

Angel's sneezes shoot webs and he keeps getting stuck to things. I realize it's not accurate to spiders, I just think it would be funny.

Vox (because he's at the hotel now, he left Valentino and moved in, because I said so) and his monitor keeps leaking a black fluid, his body's overheating (as in he starts a few minor fires around the hotel), and his audio system is on the fritz so he keeps making weird "coughing" static and sneeze audio effects that blow out glass

Niffty goes into germaphobia mode and tries to clean even more than normal (causing a few dangerous chemical mixtures in the process) and trying to deny once she does get sick only to be forced to admit defeat when she falls off of a chandelier she was dusting in a dead faint.

Cherri Bomb (because she's also there too) apparently has uncontrollable pyrokinetic powers that illness sets off, she runs a high fever (with delirium, yes it's a favored trope of mine), and keeps blowing things up and setting them on fire when she sneezes, and her coughing results in thick clouds of infectious smoke.

Charlie ends up getting sick from taking care of everyone, but puts off resting and taking meds because she wants to make sure everyone else is ok first. She has to take some kind of insanely potent medicine because of her potential power and the medicine makes her kind of loopy. Angel dust tries to sneak a little bit thinking it's just cough syrup and it makes him start tripping balls.

Vaggie is the only one not to get sick because that way she'd have to be the one to deal with everyone else's crap (maybe constant exposure to angel weaponry provides her with immunity?)

Holy fucking shit I don’t check tumblr for a few days cos I’ve been in the middle of a forest with no service and come back to THIS??

I don’t think the human race can even COMPREHEND what this makes me feel- this is the best damn thing I’ve seen in a LONG time

✨ 1000000000/10 ✨

[y0d00p]

▋: 2, 30

lillian: 14, 24

lad: 6, 11 (i already kinda know the answer to 11 but idc i want to hear more about it)

▋

describe your character's voice. do they have a voice claim?

i don't have one specific example to link to, but i imagine it's something like, between glados and hal. androgynous, soft, maybe slightly stilted. has a slight "spacey" or mildly robotic effect. maybe sounds a bit like a few voices at once?

does your OC wish to be married someday?

i think yes honestly. they find such human customs very charming and would like to have that kind of companionship

Lillian

an embarrassing secret about your OC?

Lil doesn't have a lot of shame LOL. uhh she can't really swim and almost never showers. her fur is extremely dense, making it uncomfortable when she gets too wet and taking a lot of time/work to dry out, so she dust bathes. she tracks a lot of dust around, that plus her lack of water bathing makes some people think of her as dirty and, come to think of it she probably got bullied for it as a kid. she is clean though and her fur smells really nice :) this isn't really an embarrassing secret lol but it's all i could think of

how does your OC handle death of someone they know?

OH MAN! BADLY!! her mom died when she was a preteen and it has fucked her up ever since. she doesn't have depressive episodes often but they are intense, she will isolate completely and not do anything, not even eat, for like a week, before bouncing back. these still hit her as an adult, but not as often. her bouts of mania and impulsive behaviours are also often triggered by the grief/memories. she is not good at coping and is really touchy about the topic

Lad

what is the thing your oc likes the least about themselves?

probably that he's mentally weak or cowardly. he hates himself for everything that has ever happened to him lol

has your OC ever fallen in love and with whom?

sort of. a qpr maybe? what him and Pidot have going on later on is gay as fuck. becoming one person with someone is gay as fuck

[xbeezchaos]

My <Harsh> thoughts/headcanons of your faves

Yes I'm serious so take a seat and get ready. I firmly belive a lot of these are Canon in my heart and cannot be persuaded otherwise.

This will be multi Fandom but I'm starting with genshin because I have a lot to say about certain characters. Also, this may be multi parts and some of this won't be explained.

Kamisato Ayato

Look I know he's some dude everyone loves but like. I can't wrap my head around it. If you think you can help. Please entertain me with it.This man has the most cocky attitude and that isn't even the part that makes me mad.

He has a piss kink.

Would let the right man/woman piss on him and would give EXTRA MONEY if it's stinky

He doesn't shower or bathe often

I wouldn't ever put it past him to not only wear shoes in bed, but to wear dirty white socks on freshly cleaned bedsheets

His bed is dirty. Like. Crunchy dirty.

He gives off high school guy using way too much axe Apollo body spray in the middle of the Hallways to poorly cover up his man must after gym class

Take petty and smart and dial it to to the thousands. He's a smart stink bag

He uses a cringey baby voice with his partner. Don't even fucking try telling me otherwise.

Probably calls himself daddy towards his partner too.

Smells like a wet beach towel

He would eat expired food. <this one pains my soul>

Raiden Shogun

Honestly I do not give a flying fuck how hot she is or what her past is. I'm aware of most of it but still don't get it tbh. Game wise she's cool but in the lore she makes me mad and confused

She quite literally fits the definition of "stick up your ass"

Unjustified and over the top rage. It's calling sister issues. Not even mommy issues

Immature and old as hell

Scatterbrained

She can't read.

She showers, but she takes 4 fucking hours and takes them twice a day without telling anyone so she'll be gone during important times and kill anyone who tells her that

A bad mother. I know you can't read but bro. Get somebody to write your son a damn letter before sending him out next time like??? Going back to the scatterbrained piece lol

Anyone and everyone is on her shit list. No fetus or dust bunny is safe.

Has the same energy of the try hard super competitive kid in gym class that takes all the fun out of the games.

Would purposely step on your phone if it fell on the floor (especially if she's in heels)

She eats uncooked rice as a snack.

Smells like metal 24/7

She really doesn’t understand affection so she bully flirts at best.

Tartaglia <Childe>

I love him and plan on pulling for him in his next rerun but bro the shit I have going on in my head either makes me laugh or mad.

Has freckles

Like to fight pretty women when he's bored so he can get choked out by thighs

Has arthritis/ something like that

Can and will eat anything for the right price <or if you say "i dare you" "you wont">

He's the "where's my hug at"guy but not creepy.

He’s literally just a hyper pit bull, and he does need a leash.

He was and still is a leash kid.

All his shoes wither and fall apart at the soles up. Shoe stores and repair men love him

Would get into bar fights

Cuts his own hair at 3AM with no back mirror

Has gotten into an argument about why the flame in a match doesn't have a shadow with the entire universe

Despite his vision. He doesn't like to drink water. Anything but that.

The closest he’ll get to regular water is flavored water

Can't ride a bike. At all.

Cries at sad scenes of shows or movies like someone shot his dog

Impulsively twerks on people he considers close.

Can and will torment his siblings. Had probably thrown one into a river before

Looks like a twink. But probably eats ass too. Don't question me.

Super easy to rile up. Try gaslighting him. It's funny.

Can't read Roman numerals.

Breaks shit at fatui headquarters a lot and finds people to fix them for cheap

If he has any close friends. He breaks into their homes often to take naps, eat or leave shit there.

Gojo Saturou

I know nothing about this man so it’s purely the vibe I get from him and some of. May be off due to the fact that I’ve only seen fan stuff of him- ANYWAYS TO THE FUN PART BELOW

Personally think he’s a perv. But like. Hell only make perverted jokes to friends or complete strangers

Has a vast knowledge of the human body and fixated on the nervous system for like 3 years

Makes dick jokes.

I feel like this man has ADD/ADHD he just reeks of it. Look at him!!!

Has a raging secret foot fetish. Like. You wouldn’t guess it about him. But he has it.

Sleep talker

He’s very clean. But dear gods he smells either really good like. Has that amazing jaw dropping cologne or he smells like 10 cans of bounce that ass fucked a dumpster fire on a hot summer day and no there isn’t an in between

Despite using the eye cover a lot he falls a lot.

He can’t swim. But if it’s canon he can. You’re lying

Eats raw pasta. For fun.

Chews on plastic. And has accidentally swallowed pieces of it multiple times too

Asks questions with obvious ass answers. Most times it’s genuine, but others it’s to be an ass

Would use “🥺” emoji un ironically

An instigator. Til death may he never stop.

Uses that baby talk shit. He’d baby talk his partner. Sorry I don’t make the rules

[calamityandme]

Tomorrow’s the party!

I was going to go to a doctors appointment this morning but they cancelled so I went shopping for a few essentials for the party instead. I brought my friend and maid of honor with me. Then she cut my hair at my house before I drove her home.

It was really nice to hang out with my friend. We just talked about life. I miss seeing her and I want to do things with her more often. It’ll be nice to see her at the party.

I’m so relieved to have my haircut. It was so, so thick. My hair was overwhelming me. Lately I’ve been wearing it in a low pony tail so when I am moving around it doesn’t overstimulate me.

^ the hair I lost

I got a lot done today despite being sleepy. I got groceries, got a haircut, hung out with a friend, bathed my dog, brushed all the pets, took the trash out, did two loads of laundry, made most of a cheesecake and did probably other things I am blanking on. Now I’m about to take a late night bath. Waiting for Danny to get off work.

I celebrated pumpkin spice coming back to Starbucks today. I had enough money to get me and my friend a drink. I tried the venti Iced chai tea with brown sugar syrup and pumpkin cream cold foam for anyone curious. It felt very good to just enjoy something because you like it and it’s around again.

I am nervous for the party but excited. Only people who love me and Danny are coming over. They aren’t going to be hardcore judging us (hopefully lol), they are probably just thinking it’s nice we’re cooking for them and inviting them over.

I have a list of things that have to be done tomorrow. Some of those things are for Danny to do, some for us to do together, the rest is for me.

Danny:

Scoop dog poop, clear off desk, take trash down, dishes

Me:

scoop litter boxes, vacuum, Clorox the furniture, wipe down the cabinets in the kitchen, clean bathroom, bake danishes

Us:

clean main rooms, put clothes away, change bedding, cook dinner, tidy up porch, tidy up the bedroom, hide the w33d stuff, dust ceilings

So much. Ugh. I prepare and prepare but there’s always unavoidable work that happens the day of something important. That’s how it is lol.

I hope my family likes what we’ve done to the place and that we will have a good time together. I’m excited for everyone to meet the pets too

[yandere-sins]

ok this isn't really a request but I have so much brainrot and I literally just need to get it out djghgfjdkjsjghjjkkfjfjd

a yandere who's darling is a complete anxious mess. and not really even in the cute quiet meek way, they're just a w r e a k

their home is probably covered in dust and grime and trash, they have bags under their eyes, their hair is unkempt, their nails are freshly bitten. they hardly talk, and when you try to put them in a position where they have to, they just. don't. the most you'll get is a stuttered whisper or two before they run away from you as fast as they can. the only time you might hear them speak up is if you scare them, at which point you'll get a scream and a kick to the stomach before they, as always, run.

yandere thinks of them as a feral kitten left out in the cold. yes, they might hiss and bite and run away, but they're just nervous is all! someone clearly needs to come and protect them. care for them. give them all the love in the world. it's okay if their darling rejects them at first, maybe chocolates and gifts and the disembodied hands of people who dared get close are hard to accept from someone you don't know. that's okay. just means that they'll have to get creative showing their darling affection. they'll get used to their new home with their one and only yandere in no time! all kittens are scared when introduced to a new environment. any good lover can put up with a bit of fighting, and yelling, and trying to leave. their darling will let down their guard eventually. if they know what's good for them.

Lol, a feral cat was what came to my mind too when I was reading that, and then you said it yourself xD Thanks for sharing your idea!

I’d like to think the yandere is a very rational, concerned citizen at first. Maybe the darling’s landlord? And they just happen to pass by one day, hearing some commotion in that apartment, wondering what’s going on. When no one opens, they get super concerned about their tenant, barging in without permission only to be greeted by the worst nightmare of a landlord, but hey, at least the renter is still there and didn’t just trash and run.

While the yandere really would like to get angry about their apartment’s condition, they just see their tenant looking at them with big, scared eyes, so frightened, so helpless, so obviously unable to take care of themselves. They barely talk with the yan, can’t really explain themselves, are uncomfortable and unwilling to let their landlord help them out of... presumably food containers. Maybe this would be a case for a therapist and a cleaning committee, but the yan disagrees, clearly thinking, “I can fix that.” Imagine vague hand gestures around the room and at their tenant.

Thus begins the absolute horror that is their relationship. I mean, honestly, just imagine someone barges into your home, and you think they will murder you, but they explain they are your concerned landlord as they start cleaning your apartment without any further explanation. There is so much mess that the yan obviously can’t finish in a day. Still, they feel too bad leaving their newly achieved darling in this condition. Hence, they keep cleaning even deep into the night until there’s at least some space to live in without the dirt. They shoo away every neighbor who comes over to complain about the noise, threatening to raise the rent if they ever complain to authorities about what’s happening in this apartment. The darling is kind of relieved to not deal with their crappy neighbors anymore, as well as getting a little curious about the diligent landlord cleaning around them.

However, when it comes to cleaning the darling, the minds divide. There’s a lot of kicking and punching and bruises on wrists until the yan finally gets to dunk the darling’s head into the bathtub. Poor darling really thinks the yandere is a murderer after all (even if a little weird), as they keep getting soaked in the bath until the yan is satisfied with their cleanliness for the time being. It’s like getting a stray cat to the vet for the first time. They hate it, there’s a lot of complaining, but even they feel better afterwards. Done with that, the yan puts the darling to bed and leaves for the rest of the night. Only to be back with more cleaning supplies the next morning, not giving the darling much rest.

This goes on for weeks, and it seems like the darling will never open up to the yan, but at least they live in a clean home again, able to look out of their windows again and use their cutlery. The yan got far, so all that is left is to give the darling a proper make-over. Cut their hair, trim their nails, some skincare and lotion. Take care of some wounds and get their teeth fixed, eyes tested, and blood test to check their vitamins, even if that means the yan has to pay someone extra to come to the darlings home or drag them to the doctors forcefully. And see there! With a little bit of love and care, everything is good again. Darling gets some new clothes, looking really good and feeling even better!

Maybe... a bit too good.

For the first time, the darling is turning heads on the street, gets complimented by the waiters in restaurants, and the worlds treat them a bit nicer. They still battle with anxiety, but they’re doing better, building confidence, and engaging again. Gosh, it’s sickening to watch for the yandere. The one person that has been through everything with the darling. That helped them become what they were. The yan had to deal with all the violent outbursts and struggles and the darling’s mess, but a stranger on the street gets a smile? Uh-uh, not happening.

So the yan brings the darling home way before anyone else could get some stupid ideas. It’s their darling. Theirs! After all they did for them, maybe it’s better if the darling goes back to stay inside all day, just with the yan for company if they want any. The yan is good enough for them; they don’t need anyone else. The darling can return to being reclusive, hiding in their room and unable to take care of themselves, and the yan will be glad to be the responsible one again. They can cook and clean and watch movies with the darling. There’s no need for fancy clothes or pretty teeth or anyone else to look at their darling.

And if the darling decides they can stand on their own feet: no, they cannot!

After all, the yandere knows where they live and can leave them little presents as warnings, reminding them that the world is, in fact, a terrible place and their anxiety was right all along. The yandere is a murderer.

And no one will react if they hear the darling scream for help. The neighbors don’t want their rent to increase after all.

[meetbag]

HashiMito for the ship ask?

Ty for the ask! Here goes:

who cries when someone dies in a movie?

- Hsrm. He's a big softie and Mito loves it. "Oh no, please. Cry on my shoulder for as long as you'd like my dear, I'm here for you" 😏.

who wears the ugly holiday garb?

- Hsrm, but he always drags Mito into it. She just can't say no to those sad (manipulative) puppy eyes. *cut to Mito wearing one half of an "I've been naughty/nice" matching sweater combo, staring into the camera like she's in the office.*

who pays for the meals?

- They take turns. They're both pretty high up the chain of command in their respective clans so I'd imagine money isn't much of an object to either of them.

Who slams the oven door and who plays the trombone?

- Mito plays the trombone because Hsrm, poor thing, is utterly tone deaf. He can keep tempo though!

Who brings home stray animals?

- who else but mother nature himself. Mito's a clean freak and it drives her up the WALL. She comes home to squirrels with the zoomies destroying her seal paper and... well. Nobody talks about what happened that day.

Who leaves the bathroom door open?

Hsrm, I suppose? Dude has no shame, lol.

Who tells the 'dad jokes'

Dadrama Senjudad. His moniker should've been "dad of shinobi." He came out of the womb, looked Butsuma straight in the eye and said, "hello father, I'm dad." That's how strong his dad energy is.

Who wants kids more?

- Mito, surprisingly. I think Hsrm wants kids a lot, deep down, but if we're talking canon universe I think Hsrm is deathly afraid of being a bad father. And, especially pre-Konoha, doesn't want to potentially lose his child like he lost his brothers.

Who travels more?

-Mito. She's a very good diplomat and gets sent on missions all over.

Who spends more cash?

Mito has an appreciation for the finer things in life, but Hsrm has a literal gambling addiction. So Hsrm i think, lol.

Who buys the things in infomercials?

- Hsrm: *puppy eyes* "what do you MEAN we don't need a tiddy bear?!?" (Look it up y'all, its a real thing and it's hilarious).

Who draws in the dust on their cars?

Let's pretend there are cars in the narutoverse- Mito probably. She doodles seal formulas on every surface within reach, 24/7.

Who starts the snowball fights?

Hashirama, every time.

And he regrets it, every time. *cut to hsrm screaming whilst getting snow shoved down the front of his pants*

Who throws away the directions to things?

"It's about the journey, Mito-chan!" Hsrm rasps through Mito's chokehold, as they aimlessly wander Sand country after he threw out the map to Sunagakure.

Who puts up holiday decor?

- Both of them. Mito sneaks in mistletoes everywhere and Hsrm is #notcomplaining.

Who is more likely to forget to bathe?

- I think hygiene is pretty important to both of them so this is unlikely, but maybe Hsrm as he's often busy being ninja president (i.e. falling asleep at his desk and drooling all over the paperwork).

Who gets more obsessed about things?

- Mito. She's a bit of a perfectionist and hyperfixates a lot, and this bleeds into almost everything she does. It's a seal master thing.

Who sings in the shower more often?

- Hsrm, to everyone's deep misfortune. As mentioned before.... baby's totally tone deaf. He is scaring the birds (and Mito) away with his noise pollution.

Thanks again for the ask! Hope you enjoy. :)

[marlahey]

​​under the same roof part five: just couldn’t wait 

a harry styles rpf part five of six ratings/warnings: teeth rotting fluff, a collection of small firsts, some of my personal favourite scenes notes: hello again! we’re combatting extreme stress and anxiety with productivity! I’ve applied for a new job to deal with hating my current one, made so much progress on skyward sword, and gotten over strep and the flu since you last saw me. it’s a lot, but so am I, lol. 

masterlist | part one | part two | part three | part four | part six (tbd)

• sunday, january 13th, 2019. 10:05 am •

“Nice place,” Harry calls to you from the kitchen. You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you.

Your place is essentially a two hundred square foot studio with a loveseat, wall desk, kitchenette, and a bare, open archway that leads to a room scarcely large enough to fit your queen bed. You have no full bath, no real living room, and no hallway; the flat kind of just starts right when you walk in. “Thanks,” you deadpan, hoisting your suitcase onto your bed before doubling back to the kitchen. “It’s just a shame all my plants are dead now.” You hear the sound of the fridge door shutting as you walk up to Harry. He’d insisted on bringing up a few containers of food and helping you with your bags, but it had sounded like an excuse to you. You’re certain you’ve never had someone so tall in your apartment before. Perhaps it’s just that your ceilings are lower than his, but Harry seems to dwarf every mundane marker of your life–– your shoes, your books, envelopes from the bank. It’s almost as though your life hadn’t been fundamentally altered in the past week, that your clutter and half-empty dish soap and creaky floorboards had just been waiting for you to return from an errand. But instead, your poor plants and the fine layer of dust –– and Harry, still standing there like he belongs –– are just a reminder that you can never just go back to whatever you had before. The corner of his mouth quirks up against his dimple as you reach for the strap of your duffle bag around his shoulder. He nods to the massive canvas above your bookcase. “I like that painting.” “India did it.” He crosses his arms, leaning back against your kitchen sink to take in the ornate petals, twisting branches, and shapeless streams of color. “She’s talented.” You join him, leaning on the countertop and stroking his arm. “Thanks for helping me carry everything, and for the leftovers. You really didn’t have to do all that.” “I know. Wanted to… Are you excited for Brighton?” “So excited,” you affirm. Harry tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You straighten his glasses for him. “What about you? Are you excited to get Sylvia again?” “Definitely.” “And you have her for two weeks now? Or… ” “Nah. I offered, but I think Annie wants to save her weeks up for later like a bloody punch card. Think I’m probably gonna have to take her for quite a while when they go on their honeymoon eventually.” “I see,” you chuckle. “When do you need to head out?” Harry glances at the time on his phone before stuffing it back into his pocket and pulling you into his chest. “Little over an hour,” he murmurs. You smile against each other’s mouths in a drowsy kiss. Harry’s arms snake around your waist; you stand between his knees and stay like that for a minute, kissing in your kitchen with a ray of sunlight warming the backs of your legs. You take a step backward after a beat, and tug Harry along by his arm. He almost trips over your tiny dining table. He bends down to kiss you again, but you push him onto the loveseat. (If you thought his size made him seem out of place before, he’s making your furniture look like it belongs in a dollhouse now.) Harry just smiles up at you as though he’s happy to be led anywhere. “I just…” you begin, uncertain. “I want to feel something that isn’t… ” You shrug a little helplessly, waving a hand at the walls of your home. “I want to feel good here, again.” Harry doesn’t say anything, but then he nods. He reaches forward, hooking his fingertips around the back of your knee to pull you onto the couch with him. It feels less like a fall and more like being drawn in by a magnet. “I think,” Harry breathes against your neck, pressing kiss after kiss after kiss into the divot just below your ear, “I can help with that.” • tuesday, january 15th, 2019, 11:48pm • The wind bites at your face as you careen down the sidewalk without shutting the door of the cab behind you. A wild laugh rips through your chest. The pavement is harsh beneath your bare feet but you stretch your arms out like an airplane with a shoe in each hand because you’re safe and nothing hurts and if you have any responsibilities right now, you can’t recall a single one of them. India is calling your name, telling you to slow down through laughter. Your smile only grows.

“You’ve passed it, babe!” she yells. “It’s this one!” You whirl around; India is down the block, frantically pointing to a colorful triple-decker tucked into the line of identical houses like two mirrors facing one another. You scrunch your nose, trying to remember the photographs from the Airbnb website. Was it that one? “You sure?” you yell back to her. India nods, exaggerated, before doubling over with laughter. “Positive.” You stumble up the steps of the front porch together, losing it over absolutely nothing. She fumbles the keys. “Hurry, India.” You hop from foot to foot to stay warm, clad in nothing but an enormous sherpa jacket and the shortest dress you own to shield you from the cold. “Gotta pee, gotta pee, gotta pee!” The front door swings open and the two of you both try to shove past each other around peals of laughter, taking the stairs by two in a scramble to reach the bathroom first. You know that you should try to be quieter for the neighbours, but the chances of that are fading by the minute. You’re the first to reach the toilet, but you’re pretty sure India had let you win. She bangs on the door the entire time you’re in there regardless. “I’m gonna piss myself!” she threatens from the hall. No part of you wants to see if she’s bluffing, so you quickly finish washing your hands before unlocking the door. Your best friend would have plowed right through you to the toilet, had you not zipped past her first, snatching your purse from the hallway floor on your way to the bedroom. The muted floral duvet bears a slight resemblance to the one from the Bates Motel but since it doesn’t seem to have any suspicious stains, you pounce onto the mattress and fish your cell phone out of your bag. You’ll get the spins sooner rather than later if you don’t sit upright, so you crawl up the bed until you’re propped up against the headboard, scrolling through your contact list until you find the one you’d been searching for. Your ears are icy from the chilled night air as you press your cell phone against your cheek, smiling a bit wickedly as it rings. You nestle into the soft lining of your jacket and it occurs to you too late that you have no idea what time it is “Hi.” Somehow Harry is laughing already as he answers.

“Hi… it’s me.” You hiccup. “I know, love.” “What’s so funny?” you demand. He’s still laughing.“You.” “You’re only saying that because I’m drunk.” “Absolutely why I said that.” You smile, then collapse on the pillows, leaning a cold cheek against your hand. “I jus’ wanted to hear your voice.” His laughter catches like it got stuck in his chest. You hear his breath through the phone in the long pause before he speaks.“You’re sweet. How’s Brighton?” “Good… Kinda cold.” “S’ what you get for going on holiday to the beach in January.” You roll to the side and hug an arm around your waist. “Shhh… ” “What did you get up to today then?” “We went to the pier, and the Lanes. Hit the shops. I bought a dress and some earrings, and… yeah. We had dinner at the Salt Room.” “Oh yeah? What’d you have?”  “Surf and turf.” “Sounds good.” “Mhm. Now we just got back from the Bar Broadway after some celebrating.” You hiccup. “Have you ever been there?” You’ll never tire of hearing Harry laugh “I have actually… How much did you celebrate?”

“Like, several rounds.” You ignore any lingering embarrassment over your slurred words in favour of letting yourself indulge in the slow, rounded melody of Harry’s voice. “Excellent… I’m really glad to hear you’ve been able to enjoy yourself.” “Thank you.” “You deserve it.” “Yeah,” you agree, sighing against the pillow and smiling to nobody. “How was your day?” “Very good. Sylvia and I FaceTimed with my mum for a while after dinner. We made mini pizzas from scratch—it was a fuckin’ mess. Then watched Shawn the Sheep. I sang a little to put her to bed… Now you’ve caught me going over a few exhibition proposals for the gallery, I’m afraid.” “Sorry, I’m probably distracting you.” Harry pauses. “S’not any different than usual.” “Is that a bad thing?” “Definitely not.” You allow for too much time to pass, listening to each other breathe through the phone. He speaks up again when you don’t. “Still there?” “I miss you,” you hum, almost inaudibly. Even though you’re several negronis in and haven’t seen him in a few days, you still can’t tell if the admission was warranted. “Miss you too.” His voice is soft. You haven’t been indoors long enough to justify feeling this warm all over. “Where are you right now?” “In the living room. On the couch.” “With a cuppa?” Harry snorts. “Obviously.” “What are you wearing?” You almost cut him off, surprising yourself. Just when you’re convinced that you’d taken it too far, Harry chuckles on the other end of the line. “I’m, um… I’ve got a tee shirt on, joggers,” he replies slowly. You’ve barely pictured it before he adds a hint more seriously, “black briefs.” Your lips part incrementally around an exhale. Another pause washes over the conversation like a tide. He speaks up again, though his voice has dropped a decibel. “What are you wearing?” His tone sobers you a little as you glance down to your bare legs. “A lot less than you.” Harry’s clipped sigh is audible through the phone. You wonder if his eyes are closed as well, and if he’s getting carried away thinking about you the same way you are about him. “Friday night was nice,” you comment. “It was… Thinking about it right now, actually.” “So am I,” you admit. “When can I see you again?” “When I get back.” “When’s that?” His voice is taut, as though he’s overcompensating his frustration with an effort to sound polite. “This Saturday, so…” You count on your fingers. “Four days from now.” Harry offers you a dry, poignant laugh. “S’ ages.” “I know. I’m not feeling very patient… ” You bite your lip, leaning on the intoxicated side of your brain for courage. “I might have to take care of myself later.” You had slept with him once—did you have the license to say something like that? Would you have to text him tomorrow morning to apologize for your loose lips? “Was half considering taking care of myself right now, actually.” Your mouth goes dry. He begins again, slowly. “How would you feel about that?” You swallow roughly, struggling to process this information. Harry wants to touch himself while he talks to you. You can practically see him alone on the couch in his living room, laptop tossed to the side, one hand slipped beneath the waistband of his sweatpants moving slowly, the other holding his phone to his ear, cheeks rosy and eyes hooded behind his glasses. Are you about to have phone sex? Is that what’s happening right now? “Love?” You’ve short circuited too long. “I’m—yes. I’d feel good,” you blurt, scared that you’d lost the moment in your flounder for the right response. “I’d feel good if you… took, um–” “Care of myself?” he finishes for you, like he’s trying not to laugh. You nod, mildly humiliated, before you remember he can’t see you. “Yes.” “Okay then.”  You shiver as his breathing changes in the stretch of silence, almost imperceptibly. “Is it nice?” you ask. Harry hums in confirmation. “You should keep talking.” “I wish I could… ” you trail off. “Tell me.” “I wish—” “Who are you talking to?” Your head whips around with the sound of India’s voice. She’s crouching in the doorway, rifling through her suitcase with a bag of toiletries and some pajamas in hand. Instead of responding, you simply prop yourself up on the bed and try not to look too much like you’ve been caught red-handed. A beat passes. You really should have answered her—gin tends to make you wear your heart on your sleeve. Her eyebrows slowly raise. “Who you talking to?” India repeats, in an utterly different lilt.

You hiccup. “Nobody.” Your best friend hurtles into motion, bounding across the room. You squeal and leap from the bed. India probably knows that wrestling your phone from your hand while you’ve both had a lot to drink is a bad idea, so she settles for grabbing the first pillow within reach and slinging it at your head. You duck—but only just—then hear your name, tinny and faint through your phone, and remember that Harry is still on the line. “Hi,” you gasp into your cell. “Sorry.” He sounds far too amused. “Should I call back?” “No no, it’s fine. I’m sorry, I should probably be getting to bed anyway… ” you reply, dodging another blow from the pillow. “But um—” You wave frantically at India for a moment of respite. “Can I call you tomorrow?” “No problem,” he laughs. “Looking forward to it.” “Me too. Night Harry,” you say around a giggle. India is still making eyes at you. “Goodnight love.” • saturday, january 26, 2019. 7:00 pm • “Just a sec!” you call, springing up from your vanity to answer the knock at your door. After adjusting the hem of your sweater, you glance at the small face of the slim, golden watch hung around your wrist. He’s right on the hour. With a hand on the doorknob, you rub your lips together to even out their shiny coat of red one last time and twist a stray piece of hair back into your updo before pulling the door open, and when you do, the world seems to stop for a beat.

Your eyes travel from Harry’s polished black boots to his pressed trousers, up the length of his dark overcoat that hangs open, and get stuck on the way that the buttons of his white dress shirt catch the light. You skim over the small bunch of snapdragons he’s clutching before finally meeting his gaze, but when he looks down at you with the beginning of a smile, your Hello gets caught on your tongue. You told yourself you weren’t going to choke, but for a minute you stand there in your doorway in silence, both politely trying to conceal that you’re beaming at each other. “Hi,” he says finally, taking you in as if for the very first time. “Hi.” “These are for you.” Harry holds out the pale blush flowers wrapped in brown paper. You brace the weight of the door with one hand to take them. “Oh thank you! That’s so thoughtful.” He begins to lean in for your cheek so you lay your hand on his shoulder just as it occurs to you to invite him inside. “Come on—” An orange blur streaks past your feet; Harry’s eyes go wide as he pulls back, attempting to block the doorway, but Chowder has already seen the gap of freedom between his legs. “Chowder!” You press the flowers back into Harry’s arms, squeezing past him before sprinting down the hall to wrangle your cat. “Sorry.” You return a little breathlessly. “He does this all the time.” Inside, Harry closes the door behind you and Chowder leaps from your arms back to the floor, scampering to your bedroom. “The flowers are lovely. I’m, um… I’m about ready to go—give me a minute to find a vase.” Do you even own a vase? “Sure,” he chuckles. “No rush.” You ransack your kitchen for anything that might do the trick and find a pitcher covered in flamingos wearing sunglasses; it’s only ever been used for blended margaritas but it’s all you have. So you unabashedly fill it with water, unwrap the flowers, and angle the makeshift centerpiece nicely on your tiny dining table. “I love them,” you affirm, smiling at him over your shoulder. Harry waits for you by the front door with his hands in his pockets, only softly chuckling at the spectacle. Your cheeks warm. “Okay, let me just… ” you trail off, zipping back to your bedroom to pin your second earring in. “You look beautiful,” he says, for once, not smiling. Your lips purse to the side to conceal your delight. “Thank you… You look fantastic, Harry.” He’s already pulling you in for a side hug and the peck that he missed greeting you with earlier. He’s shaved, and his skin feels smooth against yours. You place your hand gingerly on his jaw as he seals the kiss to your cheek. “Thanks,” he whispers by your ear, a little playfully, before kissing you again in the same spot. “Ready to go?” He raises his eyebrows at you, stepping away to place a hand on the doorknob. “Where’s the cat?” You huff a laugh. “We should be fine. He only makes a break for it if someone knocks first.” Harry holds the door for you as you wrap a scarf around your neck. “After you.” The usual mundanity of your walk to the tube station has vanished with Harry at your side. Your breath puffs out into the cold when you breathe, the wind nips at your cheeks, and you both have to hike your shoulders up a little to stay warm. The two of you share a small laugh upon stealing a glance over at each other tucked into your scarves. It’s refreshing to spend time with him somewhere besides the lift or his apartment—Harry had become so anchored to those places in your memory. Some part of you expected him to look different, somehow, but perhaps it’s you that’s different now. You’re finally free to admire him openly the way you want to, and you could certainly get used to that feeling. Harry had chosen the restaurant and you’d heard of it, but never been yourself. In fact, you’d only been to the Little Venice neighborhood by Regents Canal once or twice in all the years you’ve lived here. India had informed you that the restaurant was built into a charming, narrow ferryboat, and during dinner, it actually floats along through the Maida Hill tunnel, past Regents Park to Primrose Hill and Camden before returning to the starting point in the Paddington Arm of the canal. As you approach, you find yourself taking a small breath in upon seeing it for yourself—the vessel is painted a glossy, electric blue with orange and cream old-fashioned serif writing on the side: ABOARD THE PRINCE REGENT.Circular brass boat windows dot the exterior. On the starboard side facing the street, the slatted light of a cinema sign hoists the words, CANAL ST. LONDON SHELL CO into the air… It’s straight out of a Wes Anderson film, you swear. Harry smiles down at you over his shoulder; you quickly close your gaping mouth. “Does this work for you?” “I’m going to eat so much that I sink the boat and everyone with it.” “S’a good way to go… Here, watch your step.” Harry takes your hand as you hop from the concrete onto the Prince Regent, helping to steady you on the moving floor below. “Hello! Welcome aboard,” the hostess greets. “Hi.” Harry nods, glancing at you. “We have a reservation for two under Styles.” Your heart skips a beat at those words, and you have to look away as to suppress your smile. The hostess runs a fingertip down her clipboard before crossing out one of the names on the list. “For our eight o’clock dinner cruise” “That’s the one.” “Right this way.” You’re lead to a small, wooden table for two tucked into a corner of the dining room by the window, passing a comprehensive wine bar on your way. From the upper deck, you can see straight down to the Paddington Basin. The open deck on the bow of the ship is decorated with charming string lights and a long boxwood garland. You’ll have to go check it out at some point tonight, but frost gathers visibly around the edges of the windows of the Prince Regent and it makes you thankful to be indoors for now. There’s still ten minutes to spare before the cruise is meant to start, but it appears that you and Harry were some of the last passengers to arrive. He helps you shrug out of your jacket from behind as the warmth of the cabin seeps into your cheeks. A moment passes as the two of you settle into your seats, exchanging a somewhat ladened look. There is a cautious lift to the corner of his mouth. “Well,” Harry begins, once both of you have been still for a minute. “This is… new.” “It’s nice. I don’t know that I’d say that it’s new though.” “How’d you mean?” “I think… ” You play with a corner of your napkin. “I guess, to me, this doesn’t really feel that much like a first date.” There’s a faint crease between Harry’s brows when you look up at him. “It feels like we’ve done this before.”

“Ah,” he nods. “We’ve shared a few meals, I s’pose that’s fair… ” Harry pauses to push his glasses up his nose, frowning at the tablecloth. “Would you have wanted to do this differently?” “No, no,” you start to reach across the table for his hand but think better of it. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”

The light of the candle flickers between you, illuminating Harry’s face in gold as you pass under the Maida Hill tunnel and the room grows dim. You float through Lisson grove during appetizers, and he points out the London Zoo across from Primrose Hill. You’re lingering over the last of your gnocchi when the conversation drifts naturally back to Sylvia.  “It’s really nice,” you say, “that you’re so close.”  Harry’s eyes go thoughtful. “Did I ever tell you I had a stepdad?” 

The past tense doesn’t escape your notice, so you just shake your head.  “Robin. Great man. He passed away last year.” “Oh, I’m sorry Harry.” He shrugs, smiling with that sort of polite acceptance. Harry looks older, somehow, for just a second in the dim candlelight. Worldweary. “Thank you. I mean, his health hadn’t been great for a while so it was almost better than something unexpected, but with Sylvia gettin’ older and remembering things more I wish they’d have gotten to know each other better. Like my youthful blunder could’ve worked out a bit better.”  “What do you mean?” “Oh, you know...” He sips his wine. “We had her so young, so you’d think there’d be more of a window for her and Robin to connect and love each other. I’d been looking forward to it, those memories.”

You’d never thought of parenthood like that before and your heart is both warmed and a little broken. Harry asks about your grandparents and suddenly you’re lost in a conversation about your hometown, high school, and family. With Harry’s rapid fire of questions, you can’t even remember the last time you talked so much about yourself. It makes you wonder if he’d been holding back before. Harry’s eyes flash to your mouth every now and then, lingering there longer and longer every time you speak. He’s now wearing a delicate smirk, and you suspect he’s beginning to notice the effects of the wine as well. Feeling bold, you cross your legs so that the top of your foot grazes the inside of Harry’s calf beneath the table, and keep it there. He licks his lips once, his gaze darting to the window as the smile on his face spreads slowly. Too soon, the Prince Regent is turning around at Camden Market and doubling back to Little Venice where you’d started. After deciding to skip dessert together, Harry glances over your shoulder and asks if you’d like to take your glasses of wine out to the small deck at the front of the boat; you nod quickly, sliding into your coat.

“How’re you feeling about the trial and everything?” You stay tucked in his arms and say nothing until Harry finally meets your eyes. “That’s not for a long, long time. The man is in custody—that’s all that matters… The custodial sentence for stalking is over a year. I have a lot of evidence in my favor. And after the court date, I’ll never have to see his face again.” You believe your words, but you can tell Harry is more skeptical; you give him a smile that you hope is convincing, and eventually he sighs, scrunching his nose. A laugh bubbles up from your stomach. “What’s that face for?” Harry shrugs. “Just wish you didn’t have to go through all that.” “I feel that way too sometimes, but the prospect of holding him accountable… the thought that I could help protect the women after me who he would have done this to is too important. You know? And besides, if things hadn’t happened exactly the way they did, maybe we wouldn’t be here. Wouldn’t that be kind of a shame?” “I s’pose.” You stare intently at one of the buttons on his jacket until you’re ready to speak. “I’m having a really nice time, Harry.” “So am I.” As you rest your head on his chest, Harry lifts his hand to stroke over the hair at the nape of your neck. You laugh once. “Is this how you imagined our first date would go? When you wanted to ask me out on the lift, back when you didn’t know my name?” Harry snorts. “Definitely not.” The boat rocks below you and Harry’s hold on you tightens for an instant. “Well, I don’t know, Harry. I guess I had thought about you, too, y’know before everything that happened with the police, and staying at yours… ” “Thought about me how?” “You know what I mean.” “Please say it.” You sigh a little. You’d said those words when the tables had been turned on this exact conversation. “I, um… I guess my impression of you from just seeing each other in the lift everyday… You seemed like a very kind and respectful person and you—y’know… You’re obviously very handsome. I mean, that part didn’t take me long to notice.” He just smiles.  ** On the walk to the tube station, Harry looks over at you and offers his elbow, keeping his hands in his pockets. You hook your hand around the bend of his arm, but after a minute, slide it down into his overcoat. Harry is smiling as you try to maneuver around each other, figuring out the best way for your fingers to fit together. You stay beside one another like that, holding hands in his pocket the entire tube ride back to North Clapham, and even in the quiet walk back to your building. He doesn’t break the clasp of your fingers until you’re stood beside each other in the lift alone as Harry reaches to press the eighth-floor button. You frown at him. “What are you doing?” He mirrors your perplexed frown. “Walking you home, of course.” You burst out in a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Oh my god. No you are not.” But after a moment’s hesitation, you bite your lip, then walk over to determinedly push the sixth-floor button on the keypad. “Why don’t you, um… why don’t you walk me to yours instead?” Harry’s eyes go a little wide, before a grin creeps slowly across his face like he’s trying to ease you into it. “Alright then.” Your lips are parted suddenly. Harry’s eyes are asking if he can kiss you so you close yours, and feel his mouth landing warm on yours moments later. It’s nice; the two of you are really beginning to learn how the other likes to be kissed, and every time you do this, you notice it’s gotten better and better. Without too much discussion you fall into bed, an unhurried undressing into a spare t-shirt and boxer shorts.  The lack of expectation makes your chest warm. It’s quiet between you for a minute but eventually the rounded tortoiseshell frames in Harry’s hand catching your eye. You take them from his limp hold, and try them on. “Wow. You are blind.” “Don’t make fun.” Harry lifts his head to look at you and snorts. “You look ridiculous.” There’s a book on his nightstand so you pick it up and inspect the cover. Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami. You notice that a lot of the pages are dog-eared, but the words on the one that you randomly flip to are completely out of focus. “Love this book…” Harry comments, then reaches up to take it from you, sifting through a few pages. “Have you read it before?” You shake your head so he goes on. “You should borrow it. Last time I picked it up I was actually thinking you’d really like it.” “Really? What makes you say that?” “Well you’ve always got a different book on the lift. And s’ just really meditative and vivid and interesting, like, easy to get hooked on. Plus Tokyo in the sixties is kinda neat to read about… ” He’s engrossed in a chapter, so he doesn’t notice that you’re a little taken back by the idea of Harry thinking about you while you’re not around, noticing things that remind him of you, and remembering things that he thinks you would like. He chuckles and plucks his glasses off your face before putting them on himself. “Can I read you this one bit?” You nod quickly. Harry clears his throat. “I really like you, Midori. A lot.” “How much is a lot?” “Like a spring bear,” I said. “A spring bear?” Midori looked up again. “What’s that all about? A spring bear.” “You’re walking through a field all by yourself one day in spring, and this sweet little bear cub with velvet fur and shiny little eyes comes walking along. And he says to you, ‘Hi, there, little lady. Want to tumble with me?’ So you and the bear cub spend the whole day in each other’s arms, tumbling down this clover-covered hill. Nice, huh?” “Yeah. Really nice.” “That’s how much I like you.” There’s a tension in the air that wasn’t there when he had started reading. You want to make a joke and ask Harry if he likes you like a spring bear but the words are trapped on your tongue and you think better of it. He turns his head to meet your gaze and hands the book back to you. “Take it.” “Thank you… I’ll have to tell you what I think when I finish it.” Harry’s eyes light up and he’s taking his glasses off again to lean in, pressing the words, “please do,” against your lips. • saturday, february 9th, 2019, 2:22 pm • “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Sylvia and Harry… Happy birthday to you!” The flash of a camera illuminates Sylvia’s face as her cheeks puff out in front of her block candle, shaped like the number three, until the flame goes out in a whoosh. You cheer along with the parents and children alike, huddled in Annie and AJ’s dining room. Harry is sat at the end of the table in a cone hat with his daughter in his lap, holding her sides as she leans over to blow on the lingering trail of smoke. He pulls her into his chest before peppering kisses all over her forehead and cheek as she squirms from his hold. Annie tries to snap a few more photos as AJ hurries to collect the cake, knife, and server, disappearing into the kitchen before returning a minute later wielding several plates with a slice on each. Someone turns the stereo on again once the cake and ice cream is passed out. There’s only three other little ones here besides Sylvia and one of them is Poppy, the daughter of the woman named Bridget who lives on the first floor and watches over Sylvia while Harry is at work. The other two are children of family friends. Someone is bouncing an infant on their hip. There’s blue frosting and sprinkles all over Sylvia’s face and arms up to her elbows. One of the children starts to cry. The whole scene is another interesting little peek into parenthood for you. Harry catches your eyes from across the room with a smile, and a vaguely resigned eye roll which you return with a wink. You hadn’t seen much of him this afternoon; he’d been too busy entertaining the guests and the children, tidying up the mess of leftover wrapping paper, orchestrating pin the tail on the donkey, and recovering from when Sylvia whacked him in the groin with the piñata stick by accident. All of the moms—and admittedly one of the dads—are practically salivating over him and you’ve have to stifle your laughter all afternoon because of it. AJ appears at your side with a light hand on your shoulder as you’re watching Harry pass Sylvia off to Annie before slipping off to the kitchen. “Would you like a piece?” “Sure,” you chuckle, taking the plate from her before raking your fork through the frosting. You’d gotten a corner slice with most of Big Bird’s stocky orange leg. “It’s very festive.” “Isn’t it?” AJ takes a bite from her own plate, covering her mouth before speaking again. “Shawn the Sheep seems to be her latest obsession, but it’s outlasted rocketships and firetrucks so I guess we’ll see… ” she trails off before elbowing your side gently. “A few of the adults are sticking around after bedtime for some drinks and I’m sure Harry would love if you joined. I’ve just made a fresh batch of sangria.” “Ooh… I’d love to.” “Perfect.” The two of you eat beside each other awhile, watching the party from the corner of the room. You lick the sugar off your lips, hesitating for a moment before venturing onto a topic you’ve been meaning to bring up. “I’ll admit, I was a little anxious for Harry to tell you and Annie that he and I have been, um… sort of seeing each other, I guess.” AJ gives you an inquisitive look over your slices of cake, so you go on with a shrug. “I mean, I was kind of a captive in his apartment for a week in crisis and now we’re like… dating. It’s a little odd.” AJ begins to laugh, so hard that she has to squeeze her eyes shut and bring a hand to her chest, and you can’t help but crack a smile yourself. “I’m serious!” you defend. “Oh,” she sighs, eventually. “We’ve known about you long before any of that happened.” Your head jerks back a little in disbelief. “What?” AJ nods slowly, the incredulous look on her face probably rivaling yours. “He texted us on New Year’s Eve to tell us he’d kissed you in the lift.” Your eyes widen as she speaks around another bite. “You think Annie and I haven’t been hearing about the gorgeous young woman who rides the lift with him since last year?” “You’re kidding me!” It comes out as a harsh whisper. “I’m not.” She shakes her head. “He told us when you sewed the loose eye back on her toy. For a while he couldn’t figure you out. It was sweet. I reckon Annie picked up on the fact that Harry fancied you before he even did.” “Oh my god,” you breathe. At that moment, Harry reappears from the kitchen, glancing over at you. You’re shaking your head at him but he’s simply smiling in oblivion. His lips move silently around the word “alright?” You give him a thumbs up before slipping into laughter again with AJ, and Harry’s expression morphs into one of suspicion. He sidesteps to Annie, placing a hand on her shoulder. Sylvia swats her father away as he pinches her cheek, doting her with his eyes. “And just so you know… ” AJ turns to you with a fading smile, gesturing between Sylvia and you, “there are exactly two people in the world I have ever seen him look at like that.” • friday, may 17th, 2019. 4:31pm • You roll your shoulders back and let your hair loose from the tight knot atop your head as you emerge from the lecture hall—you’ve just written your first midterm of the season. It’s arguably your most rigorous course at the moment, so you’re glad to have it out of the way. Your hand flits to your eyes to block the light of day as you fish your phone from your bag to text India that you finished early, but a frown settles on your brow. You have three missed calls from Harry. “Hi, love.” He picks up on the first ring; you pinch your phone between your shoulder and cheek as you dig around for your Oyster card. “Hey, is everything okay?” “Yeah, s’alright.” Harry’s words are rushed, overlapping each other even more than usual. “I was actually wondering if you could—wait! Your exam. How’d it go?” You melt into a small smile. “I feel good about it. I revised more than I needed to, honestly.” “Can’t say I’m surprised. We’ll have to celebrate later.” Your eyes flash to the ground in your walk to Euston station as your cheeks warm just a hint. “I hope so.” “I was actually wondering if I could ask a favor of you.” “Yeah, what do you need?” “I’m in a bit of a pinch at the gallery and I need to stay later than I expected to wrap some things up here and um… I won’t be home for at least another hour, so I can’t pick up Sylvia from Bridget’s on time—and Bridget, like, cannot stay past five today because her son’s in a school performance. Annie and AJ also can’t get out of work—I tried them already. So, do you think… I mean, Sylvia knows you and she just needs someone to entertain her for a little while ‘til I’m off. Shouldn’t be long.” “Oh.” Your heart jumps a little. “Are… are you—do you mind?” “No of course not! Does, um… Does Bridget know I exist?” Harry laughs once. “I’ve mentioned somethin’ like you, yeah. I’ll ring her now and let her know you’re coming instead.” “Okay, sure. Do I have to pay her? Or… ” “No, no, you don’t have to worry about that. We do a monthly invoice. Just bring Sylvia upstairs and give her, like, four Maltesers—tell her Daddy’s gonna be home soon. I’ll speak with her on the phone if she likes.” You nod. “Okay, I can do that.” “You mean it? You don’t mind?” “Of course I don’t mind.” Harry makes some sort of strangled noise of rejoice and relief all at once; you chuckle on your end of the phone. “Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver… I owe you one. ” “You know, I’m gonna hold you to that… ” You hope the suggestive lilt of your voice conveys how exactly you’d like Harry to repay you. Harry’s voice is lower and a little husky when he speaks again, after a pause. “I’m at work, love.” “I’ll see you tonight,” you bid through a laugh. “See you.” On the tube, your knee bounces all the way to the Clapham North stop; the prospect of watching over Sylvia exhilarates you unexpectedly. In your head, you go over how you’ll greet her. You fondly call her smile to memory and imagine her shuffling up to you for a shy hug. Spending alone time with Harry’s daughter was never a fantasy you’d spent much time dwelling on, but now that the opportunity lays before you, you’re overcome with an anxious hope that it goes well. You hurry to catch the walk lights on every street corner, trotting through traffic and pedestrians before making a beeline through the lobby doors over to the lift. Your phone buzzes from inside of your jacket. Harry Styles. 4:59 PM. Bridget’s flat is 1D, just knock lightly in case anyone’s still napping. Thanks again. x You. 4:59 PM. Will do. Bridget’s flat is easy enough to find on the first floor, and you can tell from where you stand in the hallway that there’s certainly no napping going on inside. The sound of children’s laughter seeps through the door and your first knock goes unanswered for a minute. You try again and hear footsteps. “Hello!” You’re greeted by a tall woman with long red hair and freckles as she reaches out for a handshake. You introduce yourself but she seems to already know who you are. “I’m Bridget. Lovely to meet you… Harry’s mentioned he was seeing someone, but it’s nice to finally see you in person!” “I’ve heard wonderful things about you, too.” A smile spreads naturally on your face as she shakes your hand with vigor. “Come in, please! I’m just on my way out, actually, I’ve got to run to make my son’s play. I would stay longer but he’s the lead so I can’t miss the opening number.” “Of course, that’s very exciting.” Children’s laughter and the patter of tiny footsteps echo throughout the flat as you step into the entryway. “The children are around here somewhere. I’m not sure if Harry’s told you but I have a daughter about Sylvia’s age and I watch them while he and my husband are at work.” “That works out nicely.” “It does, doesn’t it?” Bridget grins at you, shrugging into her trench coat. “Poppy! Sylvia! Come and get your things, darlings, we haven’t got all day.” “Daddy!” You recognize Sylvia’s voice as two little girls come speeding around the corner. She skids to a stop at the sight of you; her face falls and you try not to take it personally. You recognize Poppy from Sylvia’s birthday party, and she seems unphased by the presence of a stranger in her doorway. She is a tiny thing with platinum blonde hair and stormy grey eyes. It doesn’t occur to you that you’ve never seen Sylvia in a dress until you’re looking at another toddler stood beside her in a green checkered one. Harry’s child, on the other hand, looks a little less put together; dirt is smudged by her hairline and across one of her rosy round cheeks, and the knees of her tights are charcoal black. Bridget helps Poppy into a Nordic sweater before turning to face Sylvia. “Sylvia, darling,” she starts gently. “Do you remember how I told you that Daddy’s friend was going to pick you up, but that he was going to meet you at home later?” Sylvia’s curls bounce as she nods. Her big, hazel brown eyes flash you up and down, a bit removed. ���Hi, Sylvia.” You wave your fingers at her, and notice the dimples sink into her cheeks the way Harry’s do when he’s fighting laughter. She smiles, twisting her big toe into the ground. It’s small, but it’s a victory. “Her wellies and knapsack are there.” Bridget nods to a familiar backpack with the initials, S.S. on the straps, along with a pair of green frog rain boots by the door, covered in mud. You crouch down to collect them and feel the tiniest ounce of pressure on your shoulder. In surprise, you turn your head to find that Sylvia has walked over and is holding onto you for balance with a foot nonchalantly in the air. You’re quick to tuck her feet into the frog boots before helping her into the world’s smallest puffer jacket, then hesitate; you frown, gingerly taking Sylvia’s hands in yours and flipping them over. Even when spread flat, her fingertips don’t quite reach to the edges of your palm. Her teeny fingernails have black beneath them, and her warm, golden skin is covered in a sheen of dust. “Sorry about that.” You glance over to the sound of Bridget’s voice as you rise to a stand. “We made a trip to the zoo today. Sylvia tends to get a little adventurous.” “I see,” you chuckle. “Well, I’m afraid we must be off, now.” Bridget is brushing past you to the door with Poppy on her hip. You move out of her way and grab Sylvia’s backpack off the floor before heading down the hall with everyone. Poppy makes faces at Sylvia and the pair laugh in secret as you all wait for the lift. “I hope your son does well tonight.” “Thank you! I’m sure he’ll be fine… he’s a ham, a bit like this one.” Bridget nods down to Sylvia with warmth in her smile as you all pile on after the ding. The lift stops at the ground floor and you say your goodbyes as Poppy and Bridget step out into the lobby. It’s suddenly very quiet between you and Sylvia as the doors slide shut. You press the sixth-floor button, then jump a little when you feel a tiny hand wrap around your index finger, glancing to the reflection of the lift doors to find that Sylvia is clinging on to you mid-yawn, completely unaffected. Warmth floods your chest as you smile tightly and try to remain collected. Sylvia holds your hand all the way to the door of Harry’s flat. The two of you still haven’t exchanged a word besides hi. Harry had never asked you to return his spare key after your week together, and you’ve sort of made it a habit of keeping it on your person. It’s difficult wiggling it into the deadbolt and twisting the doorknob with one hand but you desperately don’t want to let go of Sylvia. Inside, she kicks off her boots and blinks up at you. You swallow, dropping your school bag on the chest table, then quickly jog over to the nursery to hang up Sylvia’s backpack, gasping as you pivot to head back to the entryway—she had followed right behind you and you almost trip over her outside of her room. You laugh with a hand to your chest before kneeling to meet her at eye level. “Sylvia, do you want something to eat?” She smiles at her feet, crossing her arms and twisting her body before nodding her head. You rise and walk a little slower to the kitchen with Sylvia at your heels. The Maltesers are kept on the top shelf of the goodies cabinet; you nab the box and pour four into your hand as instructed. She’s recently graduated from using a high chair, so you hand her the treat in a small, plastic dinosaur-shaped bowl, thinking she’d lead you to the dining table. Instead, she pops the first malt ball into her mouth right away, seemingly content with sitting on the kitchen floor. You join her and don’t question it. Sylvia scoots backward on the tiles to the cabinet opposite you with her legs crisscrossed. You mirror her position, leaning back against the fridge. She stares at you in fascination, crunching softly. Her mouth moves like his. The apples of her cheeks push up against her eyes in the corners like his. Her chin and cheeks carry her expressions like his do. It’s an eerie sort of déjà vu, sitting across from her, eating a meal in the kitchen without a table. You feel like you know her a little better simply because you’ve grown familiar with many of her father’s expressive tells, which she shares. You hoist yourself up to your feet and fill a sippy cup with water, placing it lightly on the floor next to her. She sets aside the empty dinosaur bowl and drinks from the bottle with both hands. When that’s gone too, she belches softly and wipes her mouth with her sleeve. The two of you sit in silence… This isn’t exactly going as well as you’d anticipated. “Do you want to speak to Daddy? On the phone?” you offer. “He’s coming home soon, I promise.” She looks to be contemplating this for a moment, but eventually shakes her head. “Okay… ” you begin cautiously, eyeing the streak of dried mud on her forehead. “Would you like to take a bath?” Sylvia’s eyes twinkle as a grin spreads across her face. She nods, and relief washes over you. You cannot help but mirror her smile as you lead her to the bathroom, perching on the rim of the tub and rolling up your sleeves to run the faucet. All of Sylvia’s toys have returned to their rightful place in the shower, and you take a moment while the water is rising to shoot a quick text to Harry. You. 5:21 PM. Got her. She’s filthy so I’m running a bath. Harry Styles. 5:22 PM. Christ, of course she is… Thanks. Harry Styles. 5:25 PM. Can’t wait to “owe” you later. x The message sends a chill down your spine. It’s suspiciously quiet behind you, and you turn around to find Sylvia with her arms raised straight above her head, watching you with a confused frown. “Right, of course.” You turn to face her, shaking your head at yourself as you help her out of her shirt. After you triple check to make sure the temperature is just right, Sylvia hops in with a splash when she’s ready and flashes you a characteristically mischievous smile. She immediately goes for the water wheel and starts talking to herself, lining the ducks on the rim of the tub in groups. From what you gather, the ducks all take turns riding in the plastic boat over to the water wheel to play. Each duck family has two moms and one dad. For a minute you lean your cheek in your hand with an elbow resting over the edge of the tub as you let her play, but after a while, when you notice that the dirt on her forehead hasn’t budged, you fix your posture and gently pull her toward you. “Come here, sweetheart, let’s get you clean.” You use a big, plastic cup to pour water over her as you sponge at the mud on her face. One by one, you scrub her tiny fingernails with soap until they’re spotless, which takes longer than you would have imagined. Sylvia tilts her head back and squeezes her eyes shut tightly as you to soak her dark curls, then pump some baby shampoo into your hand. It’s maternal and intimate and strangely healing to take care of a child like this. How many years has it been since you babysat for that couple down the block from where you grew up? You can’t remember. But this… tenderly smoothing your hands over this little girl’s hair—being actually, personally invested in making sure she’s clean and safe and happy—feels eons away from getting paid to read a few bedtime stories to kids whose names have slipped your memory by now. There’s a lot you would do for Harry, but there’s a lot you would do for his daughter, too. Your hands freeze in place on top of her head as the sound of your name in Sylvia’s mouth stuns you. Up until this point, you frankly weren’t sure if she could say it. You look down at her; her eyes are curious and gazing up at you. “How come you and Daddy spend so much time together?” The air leaves your lungs. After a brief pause, you will your fingertips to keep moving in circles on her head. “Your Daddy and I… are friends,” you begin steadily. “Kind of like Bert and Ernie.” “Oh you’re in love?” she asks. Again, remarkably blunt and unaffected. “No, no, no, honey. Um… ” Perhaps Bert and Ernie weren’t the best anecdote to explain a platonic relationship to a toddler with gay parents. You fill the cup again and pour water over her hair while untangling her curls with your fingers. She leans back into your hand. “Daddy and I care about each other… and spending time together makes us both very happy.” It’s quiet for a long, long while as you listen to the small waves slosh against the walls of the tub. You haven’t settled on what you’d said to her. There’s something more. And even though she’s three, and she isn’t going to remember, you will remember, and you know suddenly that you have to get the words out. “And I want you to know, Sylvia, that you’re also special and important to me. I care about you very, very much.” She says nothing more on the subject and neither do you. “The water’s getting a bit chilly. How about we hop out and play some music in the kitchen while we wait for Daddy? Would you like that?” “Okay.” Sylvia all but leaps over your shoulder out of the tub, bringing a tidal wave of water with her. You’re half afraid she’ll slip but she lands on the bathmat with agility and waits for you by the towels. You sit on the toilet to help dry her off before blanketing her in the soft yellow terry cloth of her bathrobe. “Quack, quack.” You wink at her, adjusting the big orange bill above her head and earning a giggle that doubles her over. Just as you’re about to stand, Sylvia leans toward you with her arms outstretched. You’re confused for a moment and briefly think she might want you to lift her, but instead, she hooks her arms around your neck for a hug. “Oh, thank you,” you say around a laugh, rubbing her back over the soft towel. Her hair is still wet and presses a damp spot into the shoulder of your shirt. She drops her arms and quickly turns away from you to the door, turning the handle on her tiptoes and slipping into the hallway on her own. You hear her scream, “Daddy!” followed by the sound of quick, tiny footsteps. You frown, checking to confirm that you had no new messages on your phone before stepping out into the hall. Sure enough, Harry is there in the kitchen with Sylvia scooped up in his arms, wearing a plaid red and white suit, and soft white dress shirt. Produce, a packet of rice, and a slow cooker are laid out on the counter, but the stereo isn’t turned on. “Hi.” You smile at him but it comes out like a question. “Hi.” His voice is quiet and something is off about the way he’s looking at you, yielding and wistful and unbelievably fond. You can feel the confusion painted on your face. “I didn’t hear you come in.” “Haven’t been here long.” Harry shifts Sylvia to his other hip, smiling at you softly. “Didn’t wanna interrupt bath time.” “Ah. How was work?” You lean against a wall in the hallway. “It was good, yeah,” he says. His eyes take you in, almost timidly from behind his glasses, and his voice maintains a strange air of sentimentality… Whatever it was, you could ask him about it some other time. “Well I should get going.” You rub your eyes in a half stretch. “I’m exhausted after today.” Harry’s shoulders visibly drop. “I can’t interest you in dinner?” “I’m alright, thanks,” you smile, heading for the entryway to sling your school bag around your shoulder. “I need to clean out the fridge and go to bed on the early side tonight.” “Alright. Thank you again for today… I still get to owe you later, yeah?” Harry quirks an eyebrow; you laugh once. “Always,” you call over your shoulder with your hand on the doorknob. “Say bye bye, Sylvia!” His voice immediately switches to the high tone he uses only with her. “Bye bye!” Sylvia waves at you. “Bye!” you respond, ecstatic that this is the first time she hasn’t been too shy to actually say something when Harry had asked her to. In the lift, the doors don’t even get the chance to ding on the eighth floor before your phone vibrates with an incoming text from Harry. Harry Styles. 6:11 PM. So which one of us is Bert? • saturday, july 21, 2019, 12:51 pm • When you return from your three week homecoming in New York, Harry’s waiting for you in  Gatwick’s arrivals hall. It takes concentrated effort not to run sailing into his arms like some fictional nearly lost lover. You settle for a kiss that leaves you a little dizzy and a breathless, “I told you you didn’t have to come get me!” He just shrugs, taking your suitcase handle before you can object and wrapping his arm around your waist. “Wanted to. Just couldn’t wait.” I love you. You’ve been thinking it for weeks now. But every time it nearly comes out of your mouth, you find yourself reeling it back. Is it too much? Is it too soon? Harry steers you towards the National Rail trains headed back to London. There’s something so relieving about just tapping your contactless card to pass through the gate. As much as you missed your family and friends stateside, London is home now too, more than you ever realised before. The platform announces a mere three minute wait. You couldn’t have timed it better. “I know it’s probably dumb to say after sitting on a plane for five hours, but my legs are killing me.” Harry laughs lightly as you haul yourselves onto the train. “M just glad I’ve never had to queue up in that international border control. I can’t believe it took you almost two hours.” “Yeah yeah, rub it in British boy.” He just snorts and turns to kiss the side of your head, like a sympathy. Clapham Junction is the second stop on this route, but it’s a full thirty minutes away. The train is packed to the brim so you can only lean wearily into Harry as you stand there and sway, trying not to fall over all the luggage. You grab an Uber from the Junction. It’s just short enough of a trip that you can’t doze off, and you’re barely inside before Harry’s pressing you up against the closed door of your flat. Your backpack slides off your shoulder and hits the floor with a thump. “Don’t--” you start shakily, and Harry lifts his lips from the curve of your shoulder. “Don’t let me sleep too much, okay? Otherwise the jetlag’s gonna mess me up for a week.” He laughs a little like he’s trying not to. “Oh trust me love,” he says, sliding down your body to kneel between your legs. His warm hands anchor your hips; a delicious shiver zips up your spine. “I don’t plan on it.” ** Okay so seven thirty in the morning isn’t exactly a lie in, as Harry calls it, but it’s better than wasting the day away. You pry yourself from his grip and tiptoe out to your forgotten suitcase and bag. The floor creaks as Harry comes out looking for you soon after. “You’re unpackin’ now?” “If I don’t do it now, this suitcase is gonna sit here for two weeks.” You’re half-expecting that he’ll try to pull you back to bed, but Harry just folds himself down onto the floor, hooking his chin over your shoulder. His fingers slide greedily beneath your too-big t-shirt, chasing the warmth of your skin. “What’s a...Reese’s?” Harry squints in the low light and you laugh, plucking the candy from his hand. “Like a chocolate peanut butter thing. I promised AJ I’d bring her some back.” From under your raincoat you unearth a small stack of books, their golden spines shimmering a little, and a familiar, grinning red face. “Wait.” Harry slides around you, reaching into your suitcase to pull out Elmo. He looks so much smaller in Harry’s grip, comically soft against the square edges of the signet ring against his belly. “Isn’t this–” “Elmo!” You grin to match your childhood companion. “My mom made me go through a bunch of boxes of stuff while I was home and I thought Sylvia might enjoy–oh, wait!” Harry’s jaw has gone a little slack. He doesn’t move as you jump to your feet and dig into the pocket of your coat, pulling out a napkin with a triumphant flourish. “What’s this?” Harry asks as you hand it to him. “I was on the plane and thinking about what AJ said at Sylvia’s birthday about her different interests, you know how kids are, getting obsessed with different things for months at a time? I figured if she likes Sesame Street she might like a bunch of the things I used to watch.” “Arthur, the Magic School Bus, Clifford the Big Red Dog, the Bearenstein Bears, Bear in the Big Blue House.” Harry’s lips twitch around a smile like he doesn’t want to offend you. “Sounds like we should take her to the zoo, love.” “Oh my god, Zoboomafoo!” “Gesundheit.” “No, Harry–” You struggle around a laugh– “I mean yes, let’s please take her to the zoo. But Zoboomafoo was this show my siblings and I were totally obsessed with. These two brothers are wildlife experts and friends with this lemur from Madagascar and–” “I love you.” Your nostalgia stops abruptly. Harry looks a little silly with Elmo in one hand and a napkin full of scribbles in the other, but he’s staring up at you with a kind of amazement that leaves you feeling oddly bare and vulnerable. “What?” It comes out like a whisper. Harry blinks owlishly, as though he’s taken aback by his own admission. He drops what he’s holding and pulls you back down to the floor. It feels like you float there. Harry’s eyes are dark and serious when he brushes the hair falling out of your lopsided ponytail away from your face. He says it again. “I love you.” You have no idea what your face is doing because alarm creeps into his expression. “You don’t have to say any–” “I love you too.” You can hardly get the words out before you're practically pushing Harry over in your haste to get your lips on his. “God, I love you too.” He smiles widely against your mouth. “Glad we agree.” You don’t finish unpacking. You don’t go back to sleep, either.

[anachronisticcrab]

Drew Tanaka Headcanons

She’s trans amab, something she doesn’t talk about a lot

Her dad was very supportive about it, and took her shopping for an entirely new wardrobe when she came out

She actually never changed her name. She always loved her name, and since it’s gender neutral she stuck with being called Drew

She really likes the classics which shocks a lot of people

She’s extremely intelligent, and loves reading

Drew doesn’t talk to people a lot of the time, so she spends her time reading. Her favourite book is The Scarlet Letter, and she’s read it like a million times

She moved to CHB almost full time when she was about 10 which is where she met Silena

Drew and Connor friendship? Brilliant

She, Nico, and Connor are best friends, you cannot convince me otherwise

Living in shadow of an older sibling you were close with, being vilified or mistrusted because of a relative, internalized homophobia, and keeping people at an arms length? LIKE WHY ISNT THERE MORE CONTENT FOR A FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN THE THREE OF THEM

And then Clovis and Drew being friends? 👀👀 super cute

First time she sees Reyna and Hazel she freezes and is like ‘… this better not awaken anything in me’

A year later she’s dating Reyna, you can fight me in this (genuinely a cute ship dude)

I go back and forth between Drew being mean cause of trauma or her being mean just because, and so I’m gonna say that it’s a combination

Is snarky cause it’s who she is, but also to keep herself safe from being hurt if/when they leave

She uses makeup to express herself— not just standard beauty makeup, but full on body paint and sfx makeup

This is how she and Rachel began to grow close

Drew resents Silena so much

It kills her that her sister was seen as kind and benevolent and infallible when she betrayed the entire camp and was the reason hundreds of their friends died, while she is vilified and seen as evil for embracing her femininity and slut-shamed due to racist stereotypes of East Asian women

So when she takes over Aphrodite’s Cabin she is terrified to mess up

She’s already vilified and seen as the shadow to her sisters light, so what if she doesn’t keep the cabin and campers in perfect order?

There are people whispering about how she’d probably betray everyone like Silena since she’s friends with Nico and Connor, so she’ll help them destroy camp one day

So she runs her cabin like a well oiled machine, everything in order, everything in place, not a speck of dust or a book tilted to the incorrect angle

But this just leads her to be seen as a dictator, an evil presence, a horrifying bitch dead set on making everyone miserable

Then Piper comes in and kicks her out of her spot and her cabin cheers at her fall, and she drowns in the icy bath of shadows she’s been forced into

And just as for Nico, Reyna pulls her out of the shadows and into the warmth of her embrace

And drew pulls Reyna down from her throne and out from behind her walls and allows her to be soft

Sooooooo here y’all go! I might make a post about Reyna and Drew or Nico, Connor, Reyna and Clovis’ friend group (that one definitely but not for a while lol)

Feel free to add your own Headcanons here too!

[ofcloudsandstars]

Quick things to do to celebrate Imbolc

Okay since my Yule post was popular I made an Imbolc one since most of us are still going to be locked down lol.

1. Clean and Cleanse your space I know BOO right?? But this is the holiday for cleaning and cleansing. (Even if you hate doing this, this is like the one time a year you have a reason to do it). Time for deep cleaning!!  You know that layer of snowy dust behind your bookshelf? Time to open windows and tackle every corner. Scrub off that spot of dirt you have been putting off scrubbing. Time to steam and vacuum your carpets. Wash your bedsheets and add rosemary or juniper oil to the soap. Smoke cleanse your room with Juniper (or Rosemary). Sweep out old energy, old habits, unwanted spirits. Throw out things that do not spark joy. The time is upon us!

2. Bath Magic Along with cleansing your space, it's also the time to cleanse yourself! This is the day to have a ritual bath, the type that looks instagram worthy where you have a bunch of candles and you sit in a hot tub full of colorful soap very pleased and covered in bubbles. If you don't have a tub you can make a special scrub to anoint your entire body with and rinse it off in a shower. This is the time for face masks, feet soaks, those things you glue on your nose to painfully peel off later and fill you with a sense of relief/disgust of what was dwelling in your pores all this time, skin exfoliants, bath jellies and body creams.

Tip: I like to celebrate the eves of sabbats, so I tend to do the cleaning and cleansing stuff the evening before so there’s less of an overwhelming pressure to do everything at once. Especially since cleaning can get draining sometimes. On the day is usually spellwork, nature walks and feasting.

3. Candle Magic This is the sabbat for candles. Not just to look at how pretty they are burning on your altar rejoicing that the winter days are probably like 1 hour longer than before, but to set intentions for your dreams and aspirations!! First take a moment to meditate and ground yourself, then focus on your goals or anything you would really like to accomplish this year, big or small. When you visualizing it coming to be, then light your candle! This is also a great time for candle scrying. You can read your candle flame which can dance fiery omens of the obstacles ahead of you. Here is a helpful but general page for candle scrying.

4. Burning Bayleaves and Barrier Breaking Often when our candle spells keep going out or we receive omens that the obstacles before us are a little more difficult than anticipated, then it's time for Barrier Breaking! Write down anything you feel is holding you back on a small piece of paper. Make sure to get a fire proof dish ready. With that paper think about the obstacles before you or anything holding you back and visualize the sensation of those obstacles coming undone or you being free from it's chains. Make sure you hold on to that feeling as you light it on fire with your spell candle then set it aside on the fire dish to burn completely.

Sometimes this step may call for shadow work as the obstacles that can be holding us back isn't external but internal issues. You can divine with tarot cards to figure out the nature of this obstacle if you aren't aware of it consciously.

Lastly, Burning Bayleaves helps with wishes. You can burn them to help overcome obstacles or to bring luck and set intentions in your life. Just write what you need on the leaves, burn it with your spell candle and set it aside on the dish. Beware as some bayleaves have natural oil in them so they can ignite in a fiery whoosh!! That is usually good luck and shows that your intentions will have no problem being manifested, however, if you are not in the most fire safe area I would not recommend this activity. If you are comfortable doing fire magic and have a safe set up then you can partake in this tradition.

6. Cleansing ALL of your magical tools As this sabbat feels like a gentle awakening and fresh start, you can lay out all of your magical tools and give them a serious cleanse. You can play a cleansing frequency on youtube which could help or ring bells over to disperse any energy hanging on. If you have a smoke bundle or incense you can clease with that and bless your items.

7. Play some Music! Listening to music always helps to set the mood of the day. Here is a playlist for this sabbat!

8. Make a Feast So for a Feast for 1 it's usually just like a festive dish with a side of veggies and a nice dessert. Think about what you'd like as your main dish. For this sabbat I’ve always made an Imbolc Shepards Pie recipe. Reasons being is that I lived someplace where this time of the year was blizzard season though we were halfway done with Winter. So the pie represented the top being the potato mashed "snow" and the meat/beans layer underneath was spicy and represented the earth stirring. (Plus its cute that it's called Shepards pie cause there is a sheep/lamb theme going on but I digress..) Anyway I moved to England and this time of year feels like... very early Spring.. Like it's not really spring spring but it's like.. early pre-spring. (Seasons here in this climate are weird haha but the sabbats make sense here since the traditions were founded in this climate). So the symbolism of the Shepards Pie is a bit lost. However there are a lot of other options such as Cauliflower or Celeriac soup with cheese (or cheese less if you are vegan), winter onion soup, if you are a meat eater than lamb and sage stew (I feel like stews are a big theme here but it fits as it's winter and there is that 'fire in the belly' symbolism that fits with getting sustenance and warmth from a chalice-bowl object). Side dish can be roasted parsnips or stuffed white cabbage (it depends on the main dish). Dessert depends on if you are into cake or tarts but I always either have cheesecake or a milk sponge cake like tres leches. If you live in a snowy area a dessert I used to make would be a warm brownie with vanilla icecream as it's like "snow melt" on earth with life stirring within. Etc.

I know with lockdown and such no one is going to be seeing anyone extra in their lives anytime soon and no one may have the energy to cook a lot, but here is a list of recipes with a feast mood board to check out for ideas.

Have a lovely luminous Imbolc!!

[manunelle]

{Ikerev} How many kids would they have? {Headcanon}

I’m kind of creating this post to organize my thoughts, because I want to write more about this in another post where I’ll write about how they are with their children and how I imagine their personalities. Please be aware that I imagine a different MC for each suitor, so the kids exist in the same universe lol

🖤 Black Army 🖤 

Ray Blackwell

One boy.

He was adopted by Ray and MC at age of 3. His father was one of Ray’s soldier who unfortunately passed away in duty. Since he had no mother or relatives that could take care of them, MC and Ray took him in. 

He prefers MC over Ray, but admires his dad very much!

Sirius Oswald

oh boy

This man and MC had 5 children! :) 

I kind of enjoy the thought of Sirius retiring because he wants to spend as much time as he can with his family. 

They have three girls and two boys. The order goes like this: Girl ---> Twins (boy and girl) ---> Boy ---> Girl. 

Would name his kids after flowers. 

The kids get along very well! They are really protective of each other and of their parents.

Luka Clemence

One boy as well. 

His kid is really sweet! He’s really friendly and everybody loves him at school. 

Is kind of a younger brother to Jonah’s girls. 

Talking about Jonah, he’s the best uncle ever. Always brings gifts and gives advices about anything that is troubling the boy. 

He’s doesn’t have a favorite parent. He’s close to both!

Fenrir Gospeed

Had two kids, a son and a daughterl. 

The firstborn is the boy, and the girl is six years younger. 

To his and MC’s surprise, the boy is a magic user! They discovered it when MC was bathing her baby when suddenly he started floating and giggling around. Imagine Fenrir and MC screaming and jumping around, trying to reach their son, who is having the time of his life. 

The girl is not a magic user, so she causes less trouble than her brother. She’s friends with Ray’s son.

Seth Hyde

One girl.

She has Seth’s hair and MC’s eyes, and likes to dress cute clothes and to play with her teddy bear. 

She’s reeeeaaaally shy. :< 

She probably prefers Seth over MC, but she doesn’t make it obvious. Of course, she likes her mother very much as well. But Seth’s hugs are something else. :> 

❤️ Red Army ❤️ 

Lancelot Kingsley

The next King of Hearts is a girl! 

She looks mostly like Lancelot, but her hair shape resembles MC’s. 

She’s really carismatic and smart, which means that she can hold a conversation with an adult without difficulties. 

She’s a friendly and curious little girl, always asking about how and why things work the way they do. 

As a magic user, she’s really interested in Harr’s work and gets along well with his daughter. 

Loves her dad! She looks up to him a lot and is not embarassed of asking him for advices and hugs.

Jonah Clemence

Our queen has two daughters. 

They are only 2 years apart, so they get along very well with each other. 

Honestly, they have Jonah completely wrapped around their little fingers. This man would go to the fucking moon if they wanted something from there. 

Despite being spoiled rotten, the girls are really gentle and caring with those around them. thank u so much mc

Because the younger sister is shyer, Jonah teaches his firstborn from a young age that she should always be nice and take care of her younger sister. 

They love baking! Imagine the MC and her two daughter baking cookies on the kitchen to present the man of their lives later. ;A; so cute

Edgar Bright

Edgar has one girl and one boy. 

Due to her fragile health, his daughter, the firstborn, won’t be able to become the next Jack of Hearts. She always smiles and says that it doesn’t bother her, but she gets self concious when hearing adults commenting about it. She also feels bad for passing the burden of being the heir to her younger brother. 

The boy is calm and serious, which is kind of weird bc his face looks way too much with MC’s. He’s really protective of his parents and his sister. Loves animals, just like his dad! He’s smart and strong, but is really aloof. MC and Edgar are always worried about him bc he doesn’t seem to want friends. 

The girl is bffs with Lancelot’s daughter and Kyle’s son.

Zero

One daughter! 

She has MC’s hair and his eyes. She’s really pretty! 

She’s friendly and is always smiling. Since she’s younger than the other kids of the Red Army (Kyle’s second son is actually the youngest, but he is still a baby lol), they kind of treat her as a young sister, always hugging and patting her head. 

She’s really curious around everything. Actually, her personality resembles Lancelot’s daughter’s a lot. 

Loves watching her father training with the soldiers! At the end of every session, she goes running towards him demanding hugs.

Kyle Ash

Two boys. They have an age gap of 12 years.

His firstborn had a really fragile health as a child, to the point of having to take constant shots and Kyle having to perform different treatments on his child. Seeing their child suffer was really difficult for Kyle and MC, and at some point they even thought that he wouldn’t survive childhood. However, aroung age 8, the signs of this disease started decreasing and he got better. 

Kyle is still worried about his son, so he always keeps a close watch on him to see if those symptons will come back someday. 

Because they were always busy taking care of their older son, MC and Kyle decided to not have other children. So it was a big surprise when they discovered MC’s second pregnancy. 

Surprisingly, their second son has no health problems. As a baby, he’s really serious and likes to nap a lot. 

Both boys look a lot like Kyle. The older one looks the most, while the younger has MC’s eyes. 

Mousse Atlas

Has one son. 

The boy is a MC’s appearence copy with Mousse’s personalit copy. 

Just like his dad, loves napping. 

Naps everywhere. 

Everywhere. 

Once, when dusting some shelves, Luka found him sleeping in the Black Army’s library. 

How in the hell did this kid get here? 

He always goes missing. Like, at one moment he’s standing right next do MC and in the next second he disappears. Dude??? 

Actually, he’s a magic user, which explains him disappearing all the time and reaching things that are in a place way higher than him. However, he doesn’t tell it to his parent until he’s sixteen bc he’s afraid of disappointing them (bc he heard from some idiot that magic users are way too dangerous).

💚 Neutral 💚 

Harr Silver

He has one daughter. 

She has his hair and MC’s eyes. 

Since she’s a magic user, she and Harr are always excitingly talking about magic books and researchs. He also teaches her about spells and skills unrelated to magic, such as cooking and fishing. 

She’s really shy, and because kids used to bully her at school and adults ignored the situation, she has a really hard time socializing with people that are not her family.

Loves cats! As a toddler, Loki gave her a cat plushie and she is really attached to it. 

Gets along with Sirius’s oldest daughter and Lancelot’s, but I’ll talk more about this in another post. 

Likes to sleep with her parents. It’s hard to get up in the morning bc she is pratically glued to the one she is hugging.

Loki Genetta

One son. He’s the youngest among the 17 suitors (bc Loki is fucking 19 years old in canon universe, duh). 

The boy is always stealing MC’s attention, always glaring at Loki. Loki glares back because he’s a man-child. 

Actually, they get along very well when the issue is not MC, and the boy trusts Loki a lot, sharing secrets and asking for help when in need of assistance. 

His looks and personality are a carbon copy of Loki’s. 

Always follows Ray’s son and Fenrir’s daughter around. 

Oliver Knight

One daughter, and Oliver loves her so much!

She looks a lot like MC, both in looks and personality. 

Being a bit naive, she’s always getting in trouble. Thank god her friends are always ready to rescue her! Is bffs with Sirius’s second daughter. 

Boys love her. Girls too. As a teenager, she’s always having to turn down confessions. She tries to be gentle, but some people are just too bold for her to deal with. That’s when Sirius’s daughter and son (the twins!) enter and deal with whoever is bothering her. 

She kind of has a crush on Sirius’s oldest son, but is too embarassed to admit. 

Oliver knows, but doesn’t want her to know that he knows. It’s kind of tough to hide, bc when the boy shows up at his house he’s always fumming with jealousy. 

Blanc Lapin

Mister Blanc has one son.

He’s calm and smart. 

Loves tea parties! Dad’s carrot cake is the best.

Loves his mom. Loves his dad. Loves his friends. 

He’s a sunshine. Everybody loves him. 

Dean Tweedle

Has only one daughter. 

Her looks and personality are a perfect mix of her parents’. 

Sleeps only if her dad reads to her. Otherwise, she stays the whole night staring at ceiling with a bored expression. 

Is really smart and responsable. She’s the perfect “senpai” at school. 

Is bffs with Sirius’ oldest daughter. 

She and Dalim’s son look really alike, so people are always mistaking them as siblings. Dalim and Dean always get annoyed at this.

Dalim Tweedle/Dum

Has one son.

Just like Dean’s daughter, his looks are a mix of his parent’s, but his personality is a bit different. Despite being really curious, he’s really quiet and hesitant of asking questions aloud. 

Is a magic user. 

Sees Dean’s daughter as a big sister. Is always attached to her hand when they meet and follows her around like a shadow. 

Probably prefers his mom over Dalim. 

[manonblaqkbeak]

Lock-down Kisses

i wasnt almost gonna do day 11 but i got inspired late last night.

im also so glad that you guys liked my fic yesterday, it has been a bit of a stressful week for me so it makes me happy when you guys like my fics! it really means a lot so thank u! :)

cw: none. just some usual fluff lol

1.4k words

enjoy!

Aelin was so damned bored. She was sure she'd never been this bored in all her life.

She had to tell herself constantly that she was lucky, that she had a roof over her head, food in the fridge and pantry and that she was healthy and walking around, that she still had her job, no matter how rocky it currently was, she was still lucky.

It still didn't change the fact that being in lock-down rutting sucked.

It had been a month since the hard lock-down started and she had been stuck at home—her beautiful, sturdy home that she was damned privileged to have—somewhere in-between the mood of wanting to do something but not having the energy to actually do it.

She had already vacuumed and put the clean dishes away and the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. She had done a fresh load of laundry and put it outside to dry. With nothing left other than mopping (which she hated because no matter how hard she cleaned the tiles beforehand, there was always little pieces of debris that showed up and annoyed her to no end), she couldn't really think of any other house-chores for her to do to keep her preoccupied.

She mowed yesterday, and had racked up the leaves and grass too, plopping them in the garden bin. She watered the garden and refilled the bird-bath, as well.

There were plenty of books to read and listen to, but Aelin just wasn't in the mood for that, which surprised Rowan when she said that yesterday when she complained for the umpteenth time that she was slowly going insane—Aelin was always in the mood to read, but now...maybe it was because the people in those books were having adventures while she was stuck inside.

Right now, she was lying on the couch, staring at her plain as dust ceiling, wondering if it would break protocol if she could pay her neighbour Feyre to paint something enticing.

It probably would be, but she needed something pretty to stare at if she wasn't reading or watching television.

Again, she was grateful, because she had books to read and television to watch, but Aelin always liked to be doing something, being outside and running errands and working.

She was a teacher at Orynth dance and music studio, and due to the lock-down, she was unable to teach dance, but thankfully, she was still able to conduct piano, guitar and violin lessons over Zoom, even if it wasn't really the same and her laptops speaker made the music sound a little dingy, but she didn't have any lessons this week, but would next week, so at least she had something to look forward to.

To pass the time, she had resorted to snooping, watching people mill about in the street from the safety of her enclosed verandah and telling Rowan of the details that she observed when he had a moment of free time.

Which was practically non-existent, thanks to being a teacher and having to deal with stressed out senior students who constantly needed to be reassured that everything was going to be okay.

Not that Aelin could blame them for their stress, she felt so damned sorry for those kids, hyperventilating because they couldn't concentrate at home because they had to share the office with others and how terrified they were of flunking and just about everything else that caused them stress. But Rowan was there, reassuring them that everything would be okay and that as a team, they would tackle everything one day at a time.

Which was why when Aelin went to give Rowan a fresh cup of coffee earlier she was surprised to see that her husband was not in the study and that the room was empty. His laptop and papers were all set up for another day of virtual learning, but her husband could not be found, and she had gone throughout their entire house looking for him and did not find him. And it wasn't like he was hard to spot, he was over six feet tall, tanned and had silver rutting hair, but he was nowhere.

When she had gone back to the kitchen to add sugar and cream to his coffee that was now hers, she noticed that his joggers were gone by the front door, which made her frown because he hadn't mentioned going for a walk—not like he had to tell her everything she did, but she wouldn't have minded joining him—and came to the decision that maybe he just needed to clear his head before another stressful day was upon him.

At least it was Friday, not that that really meant anything when one was a teacher.

Aelin glanced around her living room, she had rearranged it two Saturdays ago with Rowan's help and maybe wondered if she could re-arrange it again, but decided that would just be ridiculous.

Maybe yoga would be a good idea, she didn't mind it and it at least gave her mind something else to focus about other than viruses and death and all other manners of unpleasantness.

So deciding that yoga was the best thing to prevent her from going to the roof and swapping out the tiles, Aelin got dressed, grabbed her things and went outside.

X X X X X X

Two hours later and Aelin was still outside. However, she gave up on yoga an hour ago, finding the energy to listen to a deliciously smutty audio-book. She was watching the clouds, but her mind was imaging that what was happening between the two lovers was her and Rowan (something that happened often when it came to these stories) and was about one paragraph from either shoving her hand down her pants or calling Rowan and asking him when the hell he was coming home so that they could recreate the scene when the front door opened.

Aelin jumped up and went back inside, barely remembering to turn off the audio-book and have her way with Rowan on the floor when she stopped dead at the sight of him.

Because in his hands hand was a leash, that was attached to a dog. A yellow lab, to be exact. The dog looked to be about six months old and was the cutest thing she'd ever seen.

“Rowan, why do you have a dog?”

“She's ours,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “I was supposed to pick her up from the shelter over a month ago, but she got sick, so I was told to wait until she recovered. She's okay now, perfectly healthy, so I finally got the call the other day that she was ready to be picked up. She's caught up on all the necessary vaccines, and is well trained. I was meant to be here earlier, but Fleetfoot here wanted to go swimming in a mud puddle, so I had to take her to a dog spa on the other side of town.”

Aelin nodded, her eyes still glued on the pup. Her eyes were a pretty golden-brown colour and while she was young, Aelin could tell that she was smart.

“You got us a puppy?” Aelin managed to ask.

“Yeah. I know you've been wanting one for a long time, and when I saw her pop up on my Facebook wall, I knew she was the one for us. Do you like her?” he asked and Aelin could have sworn that her burly husband sounded shy. Nervous.

“I love her,” Aelin admitted truthfully and finally went over to their dog, who immediately starting sniffing at Aelin's outstretched hand when she crouched down in front of her. And was soon being supplied with kisses, all over her hand, her face and neck. Aelin laughed and Rowan smiled, knowing that he had made the right decision.

Rowan was about to sit down himself when Aelin tugged at his hand, bringing him down on top of her and kissed him with every bit of love she felt for him.

It didn't take long for Fleetfoot to join them, licking at Rowan while she yipped for their attention. They broke apart and spent the rest of the day getting to know the new addition of their family.

Lock-down sucked, but Aelin was lucky indeed to have her husband in her life. And the pure ball of energy that was Fleetfoot.