#I know what this yard looked like when it was still a yard and not a driveway

[shrimpybbq]

green thumb

synopsis: high school gf loves her veggie garden and so does charlie. rafe is clueless and lacks a green thumb, but does his best to be supportive.

The warm sun shone through the windows of the Cameron house, it’s rays casting a golden hue across the spacious living room that currently housed half of the aforementioned Cameron family. The tall frame of Rafe Cameron lay horizontal on the plush couch, his arms wrapped protectively around the small baby atop chest. His sweet little girl had only been born a few months ago, but she was already growing too fast for his liking. Each day was so precious to Rafe, knowing Emmy would never be this small again, so he cherished the mundane moments like this one, letting her use his chest as a mattress for as long as she wished. He basked in the rise and fall of her chest, the little grunts she let out as her dreams took place.

Rafe had been on the couch for an hour or so, letting his wife spend time with Charlie. The young boy loved his sister, but becoming a big brother was challenging. He was no longer the main focus of his parents and growing used to sharing the attention had been troubling for the boy. He would pout when his mother left his side to feed his sister, clinging tearily to her sleeve. It broke both Rafe and his wife's heart, and the pair knew they needed to do something to make Charlie know he was still just as important as before. That was when they noticed how much the little boy loved his mother's veggie garden. He was always trying to follow his mother outside, eager to play in the soil and spend time with his favourite person.

Each morning, the young mother would climb out of bed silently, her footsteps softly padding across the carpet in an attempt to not disturb the sleeping baby in the room. A soft kiss to her daughter's forehead before she disappeared outside to her veggie garden. At Tannyhill, the girl had grown a few herbs - chives, rosemary, thyme - that sort of thing. Rafe had never really noticed until one day he caught her sneaking out, and thinking the worst he followed her. He had frozen when instead of seeing her leaving the property or meeting another man, she had crouched down in front of the old neglected herb garden. Rose had tried to grow some herbs at one point before giving up on her faux housewife act, and Rafe had never really paid attention to what remained. His curiosity peaked as he watched his girlfriend gently water the soil and pat it in place, humming quietly to herself. Content with knowing her whereabouts, Rafe quietly stalked back indoors, tucking the knowledge away in his mind.

When the family moved to their new home, he decided to surprise his now-wife with a special section in the backyard just for her. He'd spent a few hours one morning while she was in town building planter boxes, filling them with soil and setting up a hose nearby. Rafe was so excited to surprise her once she returned home, covering her eyes with his hands as he led her out to the yard. Little Charlie sat on her hip despite her pregnant belly, his hands clinging to his mother.

"Hey-hey! No peeking! Don't you dare," Rafe muttered as she tried to move her head away.

"Just tell me, please?" She begged, growing impatient. It didn't help that Rafe's guiding skills left a lot to be desired.

"Just know that you're gonna like it, 'kay?"

When his hands dropped away from her eyes, she gasped softly. The perfect little garden set-up stood in front of her, all ready to go. Eyes wide, she turned to Rafe.

"Wha- how, I- how did you know?" She questioned incredulously. No-one had ever done anything like this for her. Rafe grinned down at her as his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his frame.

"I have my ways," he drawled cheekily, "I did good, huh?"

He watched as she nodded, turning to Charlie, "Should we go have a look?" The little boy nodded and Rafe stood on proudly as his wife and son went to investigate the new garden.

Rafe noticed Emmy stirring, the girl beginning to grumble as her hunger grew. He knew she needed to be fed or soon, the whole neighbourhood would hear the girl's screams. As he slowly pandered out to the yard, his eyes fell upon his wife and the small blond boy crouched at her side. With a watering can in one hand, Charlie gently delivered water to the small carrot and tomato plots. He squealed in excitement as his mother praised him for his effort, gently patting the soil around the growing vegetables as she did the same. Rafe looked at the two proudly, wishing he didn’t need to interrupt them, but alas, little Emmy began to whine loudly, catching the attention of her mother. She turned around quickly to see the small girl baby tucked securely in her father’s arms, and stood up.

“Hungry?”

“Don’t you know it,” Rafe grunted. He handed Emmy over to his wife’s outstretched arms.

“She’s just like you, never full,” she sighed, exasperated, before undoing the oversized button up of Rafe’s she wore.

The pair settled into a moment of comfortable silence as their daughter latched, her little hands reaching to cling to the shirt lapels. Calm spread but only for a moment.

“Daddy! Look! Strawberry!” Charlie shouted. Rafe stalked over to his son and crouched down to match his height. It was almost comical to see such a tall man make himself so small, especially when he couldn’t control the expression of slight discomfort covering his face.

“Wow bud, look at that… did you and your mama do that?” Rafe grinned as Charlie nodded, pleased with himself. Rafe had never fully been able to get into the groove of gardening, finding the waiting too painful to ever properly enjoy the art. But for his son, he would do anything - and so he played along. He would ask questions, get his son to show his new plants, praise his little sprouting vegetables and make sure his son knew he was proud of him. He wasn’t above forgetting which seed plot was which, but he tried. For a few moments, silence blanketed the family as an engrossed Charlie continued to tend to him plants.

“Mama and I have carrots too!” The boy exclaimed.

“Oh yeah? When are we gonna eat them, little man? How much longer until they’re ready?” Rafe asked, reaching his hand out to steady Charlie as he began to lean over the garden. Charlie looked up at his mother questioningly, the woman now seated on the bench nearby. She hummed softly as she thought for a moment,

“Maybe another month or two? We only planted them last week, C.”

The boy returned his gaze to Rafe, smiling at his father. Rafe looked down at his mini-me, sighing as he picked the boy up in his arms, standing and walking over to his wife. She had finished feeding Emmy now, and had the sweet little girl resting against her chest.

“Good thing we still have a grocery store nearby, huh?” Rafe chuckled, “Not gon’ starve.”

He grimaced at the sudden pinching sensation against his bicep, High School Gf sending a glare to him as she pulled her hand away. Shit.

“But hey - once those carrots are ready, we should make a big salad. You know that one you like, bud? We can make it for dinner one night. How’s that sound?” The momentary anxiety was evident in the way Rafe quickly spoke, desperately hoping to avoid a meltdown from the toddler. He was at an age where his sensitivity was high.

“Promise, daddy? And we have ice cream after?”

Both Rafe and High School Gf exhaled with relief. Crisis averted. Rafe nodded down at his son and when the boy extended out his pinky finger to affirm their promise, he grinned.

“Pinky promise, C.”

the pure domesticity of this would be sickening to the old rafe lol

[justcreatininthedarkness]

I really love this prompt, so I had to write something.

after the death of Jackie's lovely grandparents, his family got the estate and their cat. It was all fine and dandy as they started to move in, most things being as they were when his grandparents had lived there. The antique furniture was somehow in perfect condition, not a single scratch from the cat.

Jackie's room was going to be in the attic, so he started to clean out all the old junk. Sorting through stuff that would be worth money and old trash, keeping the antique and the yard sale pile separate. He found some old family photos and portates, setting them aside for later, most likely just planning to throw them away after getting photos of his grandparents.

After a while his parents called him down for dinner. on his way down he nearly tripped over the cat, causing it to meow up at him, it had such a tiny and kitten like mewl. He picked up the fluffy calico and headed to the kitchen. "What was the cats name again?" He asked as the cat jumped from his arms and sat down by its bowl. "I dont remember, it might've just been chat. You can rename her if you want." His mother said as she put together a meal from what they had at the moment. "That's a boy cat," He lifted the calico up by its sides. "See, he has balls." His father laughed at that but his mother didn't find it as funny. "Jackie, I dont want to see a cats genitals before I'm about to eat." The cat wiggled out of his grip, then he sat down to eat with his family.

After dinner he had almost forgotten about the pictures until he tripped over a box of them, making them scatter. With a sigh he began to pick them up, notice a cat in a few of them. A lot of them. Old ones. At first he thought it was just another calico cat, maybe an ancestor of the current cat. But then he noticed over the decades worth of photos, that the patterns stayed the same. Always the same.

He quickly checked the back of the photos, the ones that included the cats name all had him as Sasha. Same pattern. Same name. Same cat.

He rushed downstairs with the photos to show his family, almost tripping over the cat again, but this time he swiftly ran past instead of picking him up.

When he got to his family he frantically told them about the cat as they sat on the couch, they did not look concerned at all. Not one bit. They laughed it off and told him to get ready for bed. When the cat rubbed against his legs he jumped and whisper yelled "I know your secret." Before he ran off again.

He closed the attic door and locked it. Ignoring the meows and scratching that followed a few minutes later; he curled up in his bed and tried to sleep, hoping that this was just a bad dream.

When he woke up the photos in his hand were gone. Maybe it was just a dream after all. As he sat up with a yawn he spotted the cat, sitting at the edge of his mattress. Just a dream. Please? "Hey... S-sasha, that's not actually your name though, that had to have just been a dream... Right Sasha?" The cat meowed in response to his words. He quickly leapt up and ran for the door, it was still locked. It couldn't have been a dream. How did the cat get up there? How was it alive? He heard it's small feet patter forward and he quickly unlocked the door before running downstairs.

He spent his whole day avoiding that cat, spending most of it with his mother as he helped her clean up the house a bit.

The cat kept following him, somehow getting into locked rooms and watching him from windows when he was outside.

He couldn't run forever, and he watched in dread as the cat slowly approached hid bed when he finally had to sleep. He wanted to run, to scream, to do something, but he had stayed awake and avoidant for two days and he couldn't keep his eyes open, no matter how scared he was. He felt paralyzed as his eyes slid shut and he felt something else get on his bed. "Shhh, no one has to know. Let's keep this a secret, ok boy?" What felt like a hand touched his face, two fingers prying one of his eyes open. "Right?" The figer in front of him was still rather small and surprisingly humanoid, it was just a bit smaller than him. Sashas hair was long and fluffy; it was patched with browns and blacks, with streaks of white. His skin was similar. His eyes were still big and cold brown.

He managed a small nod, then Sasha let go and got off the bed as Jackie quickly fell asleep, more likely from magic than exhaustion at this point.

(Sasha btw. I had to draw him. Might draw Jackie next.)

I had to sit down and think about how I would make a person calico. I actually really like it. might render it later.

I need to stop drawing feminine men though...

Your grandparent passes and your parents inherit the palatial estate as well as the care for its cat. After going through several family records you realize the cat has been inherited throughout the generations. You try telling others but they forget. Now it keeps trying to be alone with you.

[rafeskai]

Opposite — Rafe Cameron

She looks nothing like me So why do you look so happy?

Summary: After seeing her ex-boyfriend Rafe Cameron happily flirting with his new girlfriend Sofia at a party, the reader confronts the painful reality that Sofia is everything she’s not—quiet, effortless, and seemingly perfect for him.

Pairings: ExBF!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: None

The Kook party was in full swing, the golden glow of lanterns and laughter illuminating the night. You tucked a strand of your long blonde hair behind your ear, your stomach knotting as your gaze landed on him. Rafe Cameron. Once, his arm was always around your waist, his lips murmuring promises against your ear. Now, he was across the yard, grinning at her.

Sofia.

She was perched on the edge of the pool, her short brown hair catching the moonlight, her brown eyes sparkling with something unmistakably intimate as she laughed at something Rafe had said. Your chest tightened.

“Oh, so he does have a type now,” you muttered under your breath, swirling the champagne in your glass.

Your friend Sarah glanced at you, sympathy etched across her face. “You don’t have to stay here, you know.”

But you did. You wanted to see it, to confirm what you already knew. The truth hung heavy in the air, undeniable. Sofia was everything you weren’t. Petite and confident in a quiet, effortless way. She blended into Rafe’s world without hesitation, without question.

She was nothing like you.

And yet, he looked so damn happy.

You tore your eyes away, heading toward the house to escape the suffocating energy of the party. But as you reached the patio, a familiar voice stopped you.

“Leaving so soon?”

You turned, and there he was. Rafe’s blue eyes locked onto yours, the smirk you once loved curling his lips.

“Just needed some air,” you lied, your voice steadier than you expected.

He nodded, his gaze flickering briefly toward the pool where Sofia was still laughing. The sight sent a pang through your chest, but you refused to let it show.

“She’s nice,” you said, surprising even yourself.

Rafe’s brows lifted, but he didn’t deny it. “Yeah, she is.”

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. The words you wanted to scream stayed trapped in your throat. Instead, you opted for a brittle smile. “She’s different.”

“Yeah.” His voice softened, and for a moment, he looked at you like he used to, like maybe he regretted everything. But the moment passed as quickly as it came. “She makes things… easy.”

Easy. The word cut deeper than you thought it would.

“Well, I’m glad,” you said, your voice sharper now. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your new fairytale.”

Rafe frowned, stepping closer, but you didn’t give him the chance to say more. You turned on your heel, the tears threatening to spill as you marched toward the front door.

As you reached the driveway, the song playing from the party echoed in the background, the lyrics hitting a little too close to home.

“She looks nothing like me, so why do you look so happy?”

You didn’t need to stay to know the answer. Sofia wasn’t just different; she was exactly what Rafe had been waiting for. And no matter how much you tried to change, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

He was always holding out for the opposite.

The gravel crunched under your heels as you made your way to your car, the tears stinging your eyes finally spilling over. The cool night air bit at your skin, but it didn’t dull the ache in your chest.

“Wait!” Rafe’s voice called out, his footsteps quick behind you.

You stopped, spinning around to face him, anger bubbling to the surface. “What do you want, Rafe?”

He stood a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets, his face set in that infuriatingly calm expression he always wore when he knew he was in the wrong. “Why are you leaving like this?”

“Why?” You laughed bitterly, wiping a tear off your cheek. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

You took a shaky breath, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “Why did you even come after me? Shouldn’t you be with Sofia? She’s perfect for you, right? Not too loud, not too much, not me.”

Rafe flinched, the calm cracking just slightly. “That’s not fair.”

“Fair?” You let out a hollow laugh. “You want to talk about fair? Do you know how hard it is to watch you look at her like that? To see how happy you are, knowing I never made you feel that way?”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Your voice broke, but you didn’t care. “She’s everything I’m not. You don’t have to tell me—I can see it. You were waiting for someone like her the whole time we were together.”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, frustration flashing in his eyes. “You think this is easy for me? Seeing you here, acting like what we had didn’t mean anything?”

You shook your head, the anger flaring again. “Don’t you dare put this on me. You’re the one who replaced me. You didn’t just move on, Rafe—you upgraded to the opposite of me. And you know what? I’m starting to think that’s exactly what you wanted.”

“That’s not—” He stopped himself, taking a step closer. “You don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” you snapped.

He hesitated, his jaw tightening. For a moment, it looked like he might actually say something real, something honest. But instead, he sighed, shaking his head. “It’s not about you.”

“Of course it’s not,” you said, your voice dropping. “Because nothing ever is.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and unspoken truths swirling in the silence.

Rafe opened his mouth as if to say more, but you didn’t give him the chance. You turned away, your footsteps quick as you climbed into your car and slammed the door shut.

As you drove away, the party lights fading in the distance, you felt a strange sense of relief. You had said your piece, laid it all out there. And maybe, just maybe, it was time to let go of the boy who would always choose someone else.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[iamsoconfusedallofthetime]

Modern WWX and WN find a weirdly familiar feeling talisman (that their supplier swore up and down didn't actually do anything and was just yet another relic from the distant past!) while working at a local museum and does something to it and find themselves all the way back in the tang dynasty.

Cool cool cool. Whatever. Wen Qing is gonna flip her shit at both of them when they get back- cause they're getting back! They will get back Wen Ning! Don't worry man we'll figure something out-

holy shit why are they in yunmeng jiang? Why are they in a boat in Yunmeng Jiang? Why does Wei Ying know this is Yunmeng Jiang it looks so different than the modern buildings he's used to- Don't look at me Like That Wen Ning I know what I'm talking about! Yes I'm sure this is where we are!

Oh that guy is looking at us? Where? What guy- oh that one. Uhhhh yep! He's staring directly at us isn't he, lovely.

And OH! What a sharp shiny sword he's got! Pointing directly at us and our little boat! I'm sure this will go fine! Aren't you Wen Ning? 😊😮‍💨

Oh look at that now he's shouting at us! Very peaceful things like-....

What the hell is this guy saying?

Wen Ying turns around for what seems like the millionth time to his friend to stare at him; (and actually making eye contact with him this time due to his head not being in his hands in his current despair) Wen Ning just looked back at him in disbelieving confusion. They could still hear the sword man yelling at them and gradually increasing in volume.

Yep! Can't understand shit this guy's saying! It's all gibberish over here my man! Nothing to see nothing to hear!

Ok. They were in a boat. They were in a boat in Yunmeng fucking Jiang- an ancient version of Yunmeng fucking Jiang! And there was some historical looking guy with a sword dressed in an achingly familiar shade of purple shouting at them in what Wei Ying was pretty sure was a super old version of the Yunmeng dialect that had long since evolved out from and was no longer being spoken or used outside of linguists trying to translate old documents that had somehow survived to the twenty-first century.

So. They were stuck in a boat in ancient China. Ok. Cool. Whatever. No big deal this is no big deal- this is TOTALLY! NO BIG-

Wei Ying put in his best "we're kind of fucked actually" smile. Wen Ning gifted a perfect thousand yard stare right back to him, seemingly coming to at least a similar conclusion of his own.

Yeah, Wei Ying let out a long sigh through his nose, he was gonna rip that supplier a new asshole or two when they got back.

[dullgecko]

My mind returned to the 'Riz gets sick and Sklonda takes him to the Mountains of Chaos' and am thinking about how the other Bad Kid are during this.

I think they learn about this if they were all at Modred when Sandra Lynn got the call from Sklonda - but what would they be thinking while they waiting?

Theyd been halfway through dinner when Sandra Lynne got the call, the ranger abandoning the rest of her meal as she hurriedly got her gear together and head outside to fetch Baxter. The girls had been worried, mostly because she never looked this serious when work emergencies came up, and had followed her into the back yard.

She was only just able to explain what was going on, though the details had been pretty sparse because Sklonda was on the verge of panic over the phone. Riz was sick. REALLY sick and it wasnt something theyd be able to treat at the hospital so she was going to give them a ride to their family horde. It would take over an hour to get to the mountains from here and that was AFTER she went to fetch the two goblins.

The girls knew Riz hadn't been feeling great at school today, their rogue dipping on their planned trip to the mall and going straight home instead. They knew he felt pretty awful if he was actually admitting it for once but they didn't know it was that serious.

Fig had tried insisting on coming with but her mom shot the idea down pretty quick. They needed speed and Baxter wouldn't be able to handle the extra weight.

In the end they all had to stay behind, waiting for updates all huddled in the living room as the hours ticked by. They'd called Fabian and Gorgug too just to give them a heads up, just in case one of them tried to get a hold of Riz, panicked when he didn't answer and tried to kick his front door in... again. No one was surprised when both boys turned up not long after to sit around and wait with them.

It was three hours before Sandra Lynne got back, face a little grim as she went to have a shower and change just in case Riz was contagious. She wouldn't be heading back out until the day after tomorrow and they wouldnt get any updates because of the spotty reception.

They still hounded Sandra Lynne for any info she had though. Riz hadn't looked good when she collected the two goblins from their apartment, covered in purple splotches and shaking like he'd been dunked in an ice bath (Kristen and Adaine immediately started researching to find out what he'd come down with but info was sparse at best).

As for where she'd taken him, Sklonda had her land in a field near the cliffs at the southern end of the mountain range before leaving her with Riz for a while. Only returning after 20 minutes with a handful of goblins to help her carry Riz away. Goblins tended to be cagey about the locations of their nests so it was understandable that they didn't let her get close.

[novankenn]

What If...

Pyrrha was also under the sway of Salem Cinder and Pyrrha love each other (Pompeii) Jaune and Emerald are married (Topaz) Jaune and Emerald have a child (Jasmine Esmeralda Arc) Jaune and Emerald are on the run from Salem & Ozpin

Scene : The Arc Household

==> @cheeseeater2 - What if Jasmine met Adrian, Saffron, and Terra?

==> @cheeseeater2 - So Jasmine has met her aunties. So I assume she has met her grandma and grandpa.

"Adri!" Jasmine cried out running to her cousin and get scooped up into a big hug. "Missed you!"

"Missed you too, squirt." Adrian laughed.

Following the pre-teen boy into the Arc house hold was his mothers, Saphron and Terra Cotta-Arc. Emerald and Jaune ushered them in with smiles and laughs... which all ended when Jasmine just had to tell everyone the BIG NEWS!.

"Auntie Terra and Saph, guess what?"

Jaune and Emerald froze. Part of the reason of inviting Terra and Saphron over was to inform them of the pregancy... but it seems that idea was just torpedoed.

"And what is this big news, little lady?" Saphron asked with a huge smile on her face as she crouched down to be eye level with her adorable niece.

"Mommy is going to be super fat!" Jasmine happily informed her aunt.

"Now, Jas that's not a nic..." Saphron stopped in mid sentence, her head turning towards Jaune and Emerald who had embarrassed looks on their face. In the background Terra could be heard giggling. "Why is mommy getting super fat?"

"The babies!" Jasmine happily cheered.

"Babies. I... see..."

"And it's sisters!" Jasmine added.

"Is it now?" Terra chimed in a huge shit eating grin on her face, as she wiggled her eyebrows at Jaune and Emerald.

"We don't know that, sweetie." Jaune corrected.

"How... long." Saphron asked giving her brother a look.

"Seven weeks." Emerald interjected. "I'm only seven weeks."

"It's going to be sisters!" Jasmine forcefully informed everyone. "Cause that's what I want!"

"Adrian why don't you take Jas and go play for a bit?" Terra asked, giving her son a look that made the question an obvious suggestion.

Fifteen minutes later after Jaune and Emerald "Officially" broke the news, that Jasmine had announced. Terra and Emerald moved to the kitchen to make coffee, while Saphron and Jaune sat facing each other across the coffee table.

"Are you going to tell Mom and Dad?" Saphron asked, her hands clasped between her knees.

"I... I don't know. I still..."

"Do they even know about Emerald and Jasmine?" Saphron asked, "I did pass on the message about you being alive and safe, like you asked... but Jaune... you need to speak to them."

"I know. I know, it's just... hard."

"I know Jaune. I felt the same way about introducing them to Terra, but I still did it."

"That's not the same. I ran away, then get accused of helping with the tragedy, and until about five years ago, Em and I were constantly on the run..." Jaune stammered out, "Then there was..."

"You have a little one of your own, and apparently two more on the way, you must understand why mom and dada did what they did, or at least can sympathize with their choice."

"I get it. I was weak..."

"You weren't weak Jaune. You were premature, and sick, very sick for years until you turned twelve, and even then it was only when you turned fifteen that you could walk around the whole yard without needing to rest." Saphron corrected. "But that's neither here nor there. This is about Jas, Em and the twins."

"You think I should tell them? Introduce mom and dad to their daughter-in-law and granddaughter?"

"I do, and it's not for you, or even them."

"I don't..."

"It's for Jas, and her arriving siblings." Saphron cut Jaune off. "That angel deserves the chance to get to know her grandparents, and you could use the help."

"Help?"

"Jaune you told me and Terra about all the shit, that's been chasing you. Don't you think have some more people you can rely on would be a benefit?"

"I get it. I do." Jaune replied. "But there's still that baggage, between me and them."

"Mom and Dad went through hell trying find you after you ran. Did you know that?"

"No."

"Mom was calling everyone, and I mean everyone to find you, while Dad was physically searching for you." Saphron informed her brother. "He was out by himself looking for you. Walking the road between Ansel and Vale, looking for you."

"I... why?"

"They love you Jaune. We all do, and it fucking hurt to hear you took off, and then only to find about you being safe during Vytal." Saphron's hardened. "That fucking hurt, all of us."

"I... I'm sorry. I didn't..."

"No you didn't, but that doesn't matter anymore. You're safe, you've been forgiven."

"So it's my turn, I take it?"

"It is, and if you can't do it fully, at least let Jas meet her grandparents. Let mom and dad know they have another grandchild." Saphron reached over and laid one of her hands on Jaune's. "Dad and Mom will love her, and if you thought Dad was bad walking the trail between Vale and Ansel to try and find you is bad... imagine what he'd do if he knew Jas was in trouble?"

"I get it, and you're right it would be a relief to have some others willing to help, but I don't think I can..."

"Then don't." Saphron cut him off.

"Saph?"

"Jaune you mom and dad can work out your shit, or not. I'm only bringing this up for Jas and Em's sake. Mom and Dad should know about them, at least give them that." Saphron gave Jaune a soft smile. "Em and Jas deserve it as well. Don't you think?"

"Yeah, will you be staying for a bit?" Jaune asked shooting his sister a half smile. "Probably could use the back-up."

"We can, be."

"Thanks sis."

"No prob, bro... now..." Saphron's eyes glinted mischeviously.

"Saph?"

"Details! Dish!"

"Ah, no."

"Don't be holding out on me Jaune."

"Not happening."

"I'll tell you about me and Terra, in return."

"Ah, no."

In the kitchen Emerald and Terra chatted while sitting around the table, coffee cups cradled in their hands. Terra's face was in a full on blush as Emerald regaled the older woman... more intimate details of how the twins came to be.

"OMG!" Terra panted. "If I wasn't into girls, I would so..."

"Jump my husband's bones?"

"Yeah, sorry, but I would."

"Apology accepted."

"But still... wow. I mean wow." Terra fanned herself. "Wait... you said something about all over the house... even the kitchen?"

"Yes, in fact... if I remember correctly, it was right about where you're sitting."

"Wow."

"You said that already." Emerald giggled.

[blehdsvvds]

RAHHHH JUST TO KET YOU KNOW I LOVE YOUR DAZAI AND CHUUYA HEADCANNONS OF THEM BEING A DAD🙏🏽❤️💕💕

Could we have headcannons of Dad!Dazai and Dad!Chuuya and their reactions if we get hurt?? 👀 NOT HURT HURT BUT LIKE WE GET KIDNAPPED BY SOMEONE AND STUFF ⁉️

MOST DEFINITELY VRO🙏‼️‼️

IM NOT SURE IF YOU WANTED IT TO BE SOUKOKU PARENTS WHEN YOU GET KIDNAPPED BUT I DID UT SEPERATLY, I CAN ALWAYS MAKE A NEW ONE FOR YOU IF YOU WOULD LIKE THOUGH^^, WARNING TO OTHER VIEWERS,

TW; THEMES OF KIDNAPPING BUT NOT DEAD DOVE KIDNAPPING

Dad!chuuya and Dad!dazai when you get kidnapped (seperate)

Dazai

- It started off with Kunikida giving dazai some work to do

- HES SO LAZY HE DIDNT WANT TO DO IT AT ALL

- lucky for him, he brought you into work today

- HE WORMS HIMSELF OVER TO YOU AND HITS YOU WITH THAT "heyy [____] can you ple-" HE GETS CUT OFF WITH YOU GROANING

- "COME ON I DIDNT EVEN ASK YO-" "your gonna ask me to run the errands kunikida gave you” BRO WIPES A TEAR AND PATS YOUR BACK

- “YOU KNOW YOUR OLD MAN TOO WELL” as he slips a list of stuff you need to get and his kunikidas credit card

- you figured you might need a break anyways so you went off to buy some stuff

- what you didnt know was the port mafia was planning to capture you as a hostage to get information out of the ADA

- after buying that whole mile long list, it was so hard to carry all the bags

- you randomly got pushed into this car that zoomed off right after

- you were so confused but you were NOT complaining, you go comfy in the seat

- “bro bless you guys, you have no idea how heavy those bags were”

- when you looked around the car, you realised that the black lizards just kidnapped you

- AND YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO ASK IF THEY GIVE BEVERAGES HERE

- hirotsu has MAJOR VIETNAM WAR FLASHBACKS OF DAZAI, BRO LOOKS AT YOU WITH THAT 100 YARD STARE

- when they bring you back to the pm, they inform the ada that they have you hostage, AND YOUR STILL ASKING IF THEY CAN GIVE YOU A FANTA

- As soon as they finish the words "we have [____] held captive" THE LIGHTS GO OFF

- ALL THEY CAN HEAR FROM YOU IS A "OOHOOHOOHOOO"

- ITS LIKE IN THE SHINING VRO THEY ATE ALL QUIVERING IN THEIR BOOTS

- THEY ARE ALL GETTING DRAGGED AWAY ONE BY ONE IN THE DARK

- AND YOU CAN HEAR YOUR DAD DOING THE "Henesy..... come out and playyy"

- SAFE TO SAY THE WHOLE BLACK LIZARDS NEEDED AN EMERGENCY TO THE HOSPITAL

- HE CHECKED UP ON YOI AND MADE SURE YOU WERE OKAY

- HE SPOILT YOU FOR THE NEXT THREE WEEKS, ALL YOU COULD SAY IN RESPONSE TO THAT WAS "I could get use to this"

Chuuya

- IM GONNA USE THE GUILD FOR THIS SENARIO

- YOU AND Q WERE SENT OUT ON A MISSION AND YOU KNOW THE REST, LOVECRAFT CATCHES YOU GUYS

- YOU DONT GET TORTURED THOUGH‼️

- THEY ONLY HURT Q BECAUSE THEY ONLY NEED THEIR ABILITY (POOR BABY 🙁)

- Unfortunately for you, you had to be taken care of by Mark

- I SAY UNFORTUNATELY BECAUSE BRO DOES NOTT‼️ KNOW HOW TO SPEAK JAPANESE

-SO THE ENTIRE TIME HES DOING THE "Haro?" THING FROM SCARY MOVIE 4

- you would used Google translate to communicate with the quild

- BRO THE AMMOUNT OF THINGS THAT YOU HEARD THAT MADE YOU WHIP OUT THAT SPEED FACE

- HEARING JOHN TALK ABOUT HOW HE WANTED HIS SISTET TO HAVE THE PERFECT LIFE ANDYOI JUST HAD TO

- BACK TO CHUUYA

- since chuuya is your dad, he taught you how to sneak things for your safety

- lucky for you, you had your phone on you, so you called your dad

- YOUR PHONE BROKE FROM HOW ANGRY HE WAS VRO

- SINCE YOUR IN MARKS CARE, YOU CAN SEE THIS THING FLYING FULL BLAST TOWARDS THE MOBY DICK

- ITS THAT VINE THAT GOES THE "Watch yo jet bro, BRO WATCH YOUR JET WATCH YOUR JET"

- IT WAS CHUUYA AS ARAHABAKI

- AFTER HE TOOK DOWN EVERYONE HE HEARS YOU NEXT TO HIM SAY

- "yo dad why you the 'bro thought school was for one day, HE MAD AS HELLLLL😂😂' "

- you get taken down with the rest of the guild after saying that

- AFTER YOU GET BACK TO THE PM WITH CHUUYA, CHUUYA THROWS A WHOLE GET TOGETHER (He spoild you bro)

- AND AT TGE DINNER TABLE YOUR TELLING EVERYONE WHAT HAPPEND WITH THE GUILD

- EVERYONE IS IN SUITS, CHAMPAGNE IN HAND, THAT RICH LAUGH AND YOU SAY SM LIKE

- "AND I WAS LIKE, 'ZOINKS LOVECRAFT, I DIDNT KNOW YOU WERE CTHULHU'

- *que the entire port mafia having that rich laugh*

A/N: FINALLY DONE VRO🙏, THIS WAS ALLATA FUN DOING, SORRY FOR ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES, IM GOING INTO SCHOOL HOLIDAYS SO ILL BE MORE ACTIVE CHAT😈🙏🙏

[aplaceinthedark]

chapter three: ONE TASTE of the LIFE

Summary: The Appalachian Mountains hide numerous monsters, and it's up to Taylor and the Bad Omens to prevent them from causing any harm.

Word Count: 2,945

CW: Supernatural themes, Star Wars spoilers, Hand Jobs (male receiving)

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long. For the past several months, I've been dealing with job issues and major burnout depression. Whereas that's still hanging around, I think I might be in a better place to write more. If you're still hanging on despite my hiatus, thank you very muchness.

This is RPF, and thus will contain real people, but names and events will be changed. If this bothers you too much, then please leave this temple without causing harm.

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

“Taylor? Are you listening to a word I said?”

I jumped, nearly knocking my water bottle over. “N-No. I’m sorry. What were you saying?” I asked sheepishly.

Rachel smiled sympathetically. “Still worried about the break-in?” she asked. I nodded, as I had told everyone that that was the reason why I was so jumpy.

I liked Rachel. Despite being almost twenty years older than me, she was sort of my only friend outside the circle of misfits and monsters I had embedded myself in. She also didn’t live in New Hope, thankfully. She was a transfer from a bigger town, since our library desperately needed one after one of our librarians “mysteriously disappeared” last August.

Said librarian’s assistant had also “mysteriously vanished” as well, leaving a job wide open for me to fill. I didn’t mind it, being Rachel’s assistant. I might have to do grunt work a lot of the time, but at least she helped instead of just dumping it all on me.

“Anyways, as I was saying, I’m pretty sure no one has gone through the donation bin this decade, if you want to make a dent in it.”

Sitting on my ass while I sort for the next two hours? “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I said, earning a chuckle from her as I stood up and left the front desk.

There were several boxes. She wasn’t kidding. This was going to take longer than I thought. Setting my phone off to the side, I pressed play on one of my safe-for-work playlists and started humming along to some Chappell Roan.

It had been a few days since the incident with the pale creature that had come onto my porch. There had been no repeat occurrences at our place, but someone had said something about seeing a sick-looking coyote at the edge of their yard. I hadn’t mentioned that to Nick, since I wasn’t even sure that it was the same thing that I had seen. 

And Nick was… I couldn’t burden him with any more problems. Between his time at the new tattoo place, townspeople coming to him for remedies to their ailments, and not being able to sleep very well, he was exhausted. I had woken up to him passed out on his couch this morning, Lydia loafing on his back. If I could make him sleep for an entire day, I would do it in a heartbeat.

I pulled the next box towards me and dug through the dusty contents. I was sure now that most of these donations were just from older ladies dumping the contents of their attics off on us just to free up some space. Several of these books so far were the same cookbook in different states of decay. 

I was just about to ask Rachel for a mask since I was tired of sneezing out dust when my hand pulled out a book that was different from all the others. A quick flip through revealed it was a journal. Either their handwriting was terrible or it was written in a different language, because I couldn’t make heads or tails of what it was saying. But some of the drawings in it intrigued me, so I set it in the Keep Pile, with the intention to ask Rachel what to do with it. If someone donated it without knowing, they might want it back.

By the end of my shift, my back and lungs didn’t appreciate what work I had gotten done. “Being in your thirties must be rough,” Rachel laughed as I tried popping my back several times. “Maybe you could get that cute boyfriend of yours to help you out later tonight.”

I felt a brief flush rise to the surface of my skin as I thought about Nick’s skilled fingers. “Quit it,” I mumbled, earning a cackle from her that would normally get someone in a library in trouble.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the journal in my hands.

“Oh, I found it in one of the boxes. It looks like somebody might’ve accidentally put it in the donation box. Should we ask if they want it back?” I said.

Rachel shook her head. “Sorry buttercup,” she said, using her nickname for me. “Those were anonymous, and who knows how long ago it was donated. There’s no way we’d be able to trace it back to its owner. Unless it has historic value, we’re supposed to throw it out.”

Something in my face must’ve changed her mind. “Well, if you don’t want to, I could conveniently look the other way when you leave,” she said. 

I was about to say that no, that it was fine, that I didn’t need another written book in my house when Nick was still combing through Granny’s hex books, but the words caught in my throat and I thanked her instead. Maybe if I could find its owner, that would be one good deed I’d done for this town, since they were still wary of me several months after I had moved in.

The library closed at seven, but I didn’t get to go to my car until half an hour later. Late April still meant that it was dark out when I left work, but the building was in the middle of New Hope, the forest a ways off. I dashed to my car through the rain, the water from the puddles splashing up as my feet crashed down in them. 

My fingers were wrapped around the car’s door handle when  a cold rush of air blew through my denim jacket, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I froze as the door automatically unlocked, the sound as loud as a gunshot despite the sound of the rain. Something in the reflection of the car window caught my eye.

Someone was behind me.

I slowly turned around, trying not to startle it. Meanwhile, my mind was racing in confusion and fear. Nothing came out of the woods. The town was safe.

The boys couldn’t help me if something were to happen to me out here.

So what was the shadowy figure doing in the middle of a parking lot?

It didn’t move as I stared at it. It was almost formless; I could just make out the thin, vaguely humanoid shape of it. Even if I wanted to say something, my throat had closed shut. The chill of the night increased, the wind picking up and sending some bits of trash skittering across the asphalt. But it didn’t disturb the shadow. 

I opened my mouth to say… something? Shout at it to scare it away? But another voice startled me into screaming. I whipped around. 

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Taylor!” Rachel swore, hand on her heart. She was standing a few feet away under her umbrella. “What’re you still doing here? Are you okay?”

“Uhh… yeah. Just thought I saw something,” I said. I turned back around.

Other than us, the parking lot was empty.

The smell of food coming through a cracked window greeted me as I stepped onto the front porch. My knees felt weak at the thought of Nick cooking after the heart attack I had had. I took a moment to compose myself, exhaling as I turned the doorknob and stepped into our home.

It was indeed Nick cooking, as he stood in front of the stove. His long black hair was tied up in a bun, and he was wearing his thick-rimmed glasses. “Hiya,” he said, not even turning around. 

I dropped my backpack onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table, immediately walking over and hugging him from behind. “Woah, hey. Everything alright?” He asked. His hand moved down to cover both of mine.

I should tell him; I need to tell him. Instead, I nodded into the space between his shoulders. Even though a part of me knew that the creepiness of the town's legends were true, I still couldn't believe that something would come out of the woods and into the safeness of the streets.

So what I said instead was, “I missed you,” into his shirt. 

“Missed you more,” he said in return, despite seeing each other this morning. 

“What are you making?” I asked, peering over his shoulder. 

“Just some hamburger pasta. Thought it would be good for an easy night, since it's just the two of us until later tonight.”

“Really? Not even Folio?” I asked. 

Without looking up, Nick pointed over at the kitchen calendar with the spoon in his free hand. A little black circle was drawn on today's date and the next two days. The New Moons meant that Folio was stuck in his Grim form until the first sliver of the moon shined. Kind of like a werewolf but opposite. 

“It'll be done in a few. Go get comfortable and I'll put on a movie,” he said, his own way of shooing me out of the kitchen. As I parted with him, I saw that he hadn't done the same with Lydia, who was watching from the floor with her hungry eyes. 

As I changed into some lounge pants and an old sweater of Nick's, I tried to think of a way to bring up the encounter with the shadow person. There was no way that he wouldn't get upset about it, that was a fact. Maybe after we ate.

When I came back out into the front room, Nick had helped himself to making my plate and putting it on the coffee table. I sat down next to him, I pulled my plate onto my lap. He had pulled up Rise of Skywalker for us to watch.

“So who’s coming later?” I asked as he started the movie.

“Noah,” Nick mumbled. There was an undercurrent of something in his voice, so I guess Noah had transferred something to his mind that annoyed him. 

“That's fine,” I said, squeezing his thigh. 

After eating, I curled up into Nick, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “We should dress up as Kylo and Rey for Halloween again,” he said.

“Your hair’s getting too long for you to be Kylo,” I said, poking the side of his head.

“Yeah, because Rey is totally a blonde.”

“It was last minute!”

We kept up the light commentary for most of the film. I was fine up until the part when Rey sacrificed herself to kill the Emperor. As Ben Solo sacrificed himself to resurrect her, I threaded my fingers through his. A moment passed, and then Nick squeezed my hand. 

When the credits rolled, I tried to get up to take our dishes back to the kitchen sink. Nick pulled me back down. “And where do you think you’re going?” he asked, pulling me onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around me.

“Was gonna do the dishes, since you made dinner,” I said.

He pulled my head gently to rest on his shoulder. “Just stay here. With me,” he said, quietly. He would do this if he thought I was about to have one of my moments. 

He started playing with my hair, making my eyes flutter shut. “Okay,” I said. 

He kissed my forehead, but as he was pulling away, I reached up to cup his face and direct him further down. His lips brushed mine before pressing down once, soft and tender, but then he tried pulling away again. “Are you su–”

“Nick,” I pleaded, his name coming out in a rush. If he had any resolve before, it came crumbling down within milliseconds.

He was still a bit hesitant, flicking his tongue against my lips. But I wasn’t made of glass, so I pushed his chest until his back was pressed onto the couch cushions. I crawled up him until I was straddling his hips, my knees pressing into the sides of his waist. The kiss never broke.

It didn’t take long for him to harden beneath me, and I couldn’t help the small, satisfactory grin that rose to my lips. I ran my hand down his chest, down his stomach to the waistband of his shorts. When I finally parted with Nick, his hand shot up to curl around the back of my head. “Bun–”

“Can I touch you?” I asked.

“Oh, fuck yes. Please,” he pleaded.

I lifted myself a little bit, just enough to give me some room to slip my hand underneath the waistband of his boxer-briefs. The angle might’ve been a little bit awkward, but it didn’t really matter when I wrapped my fingers around the considerable size of him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, throwing his head back against the pillows. The movement caused him to bare the pretty tan skin over his throat, and I practically descended upon it. The minute I mouthed over his pulse point, his hips rolled up, rutting into my hand. On the upstroke I rubbed my thumb over the tip, and he made my favorite sound of–

Click.

We both froze, my hand down his pants. I quickly raised my head and our eyes locked on each other at the sound of the door unlocking. As the front door opened, I quickly rose up to stand on my knees. Noah stopped dead in his tracks, confusion written on his face. 

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said immediately, Nick echoing my words from below me.

Noah’s eyes roamed over me for a second, and his face hardened. “Please, continue. I don’t want to interrupt you guys making out in–”

Nick sat up, crawling out from underneath me. If he stood up, Noah could easily see that we were doing more than making out. “When we agreed on later, I mean late.” 

“It’s after eleven. I think that’s late enough,” Noah said, striding across the kitchen to the fridge, where he took out a beer. 

As Nick straightened himself, I caught the look on his face that said he was communicating with Noah through the bond that he had with everyone. Was there something agreed upon that didn’t require me knowing about? 

My thought was all but confirmed when Nick put his hand on my waist. “You wanna go to bed, Bun?” he asked, looking up at me with big green eyes. In this lighting, they were dark as the evergreens outside.

“No, I’m not tired,” I said. I fixed him with a look that said that I wasn’t going to be kept in the dark. Again.

He sighed. “Hang on, I gotta get the hex book,” he said, standing up. He then walked to the spare bedroom.

I looked over at Noah, who was leaning back against the fridge. He perked an eyebrow. “How was work?” he asked before taking a sip of his beer.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I was gonna tell him.”

“But you got distracted, didn’t you?”

“Fuck off, Bambi.”

“Oh, I’m about to do worse than that.”

I tilted my head. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Nick came back with a small, leatherbound notebook. He tossed it onto the kitchen table, as if it personally offended him. “We’ve been doing this all wrong,” he said. He practically collapsed into one of the chairs. 

“Doing what wrong? What is ‘this’?” I asked.

“There’s a reason why the Valley has been getting worse these past few years. More things showing up, resurfacing, growing bolder enough to where people can catch glimpses of them. Pale Things showing up shouldn’t be a surprise, really.” He was babbling, practically. But then he took in a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“Those sacrifices weren’t just for Vessels. They were also to keep the Woods from getting worse.”

Noah’s lips thinned. “I told you, I’m not killing any more innocent people.”

“Yeah, I know, and I think I found a way around that, but…” Nick trailed off. He then silently opened the hex book and flipped to a page he had marked. He then held it out towards me.

“Why me?” I asked.

“I’ve already seen it,” Noah said. 

I took the book and glanced at the pages. It wasn’t in any readable context: Granny wrote in some kind of “language” that had been passed down through her family as to keep their practice a secret from others. Nick had been slowly translating them over the past few months into his own notebooks.

“What is this?” I finally asked. 

“It's a… Fertility Ritual.” Nick swallowed thickly. “My ancestors would send someone into the forest so the Forest would be… sated.”

“A sacrifice. Like what happened with you guys.” I waved a hand over Noah. 

“No! Well… sort of,” Nick said. He bit his lip. 

“That was more the Black Stag's version. Though it wanted sacrifices so it could take a mortal form.” Noah folded his arms over his chest. “This is a… less bloody version.”

I skimmed over the page again, and it finally clicked. “When you say ‘fertility’, you mean… Noah's got to knock someone up?”

“No!” The two shouted at the same time. “God, fuck no,” Nick sighed. “But the baby making process is the main part.”

“He has to have sex with someone?” I asked incredulously. 

“Not just someone…” Nick lowered his voice to a mumble. “Someone with a… someone of the opposite sex.”

“Well how the fuck is he gonna do that?” I asked. “Everyone around here will recognize him, and then you got the antlers to deal with.”

The two were quiet suddenly. Nick put his head in his hands. “Bun…”

“What?”

“He's talking about you,” Noah put bluntly.

tysm for reading! If you enjoyed this, please reblog to share the word of the Revered Father. Next chapter coming soon.

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@screamsinsilver @darksigns-exe @nojoyontheburn @baddestomens

[shinjisdone]

Having Barok van Zieks be fond of you means...

[okay, so I bought TGAAC and TGAAC2 like, late spring and finished it in September and the WAY that this totally mentally okay gentleman has been living in my mind and popping in again and again like - HE IS BECOMING A PART OF MY FRONTAL LOBE, HE KEEPS COMING IN AND TAKING OVER MY MIND

so before the end of the year comes, have my brainrot because character ai is not enough anymore - GO PLAY TGAAC]

SPOILERS FOR TGAAC AND TGAAC 2 - brainrot in no order whatsoever

...having a cold Reaper be near - unwantingly so. Whether it is through glimpses of him in the streets of London, to be on the witnesses' stand in court or to work with him in the Prosecutor's office. The man is like a cold spot in a room but ever so...harmless. He means to come off as harmless, not neccesarily friendly but he wants to let you know that he doesn't...dislike you. There is no need to fear, the Reaper of the Bailey is not out to get you. He himself does not have any control over this curse...yet still, he keeps his distance in a way. Not rejecting you but keeping conversations brief and productive. Greetings ever so gentlemanly but never that of a friend. Barok fears what might happen if gets too close...

...he still wishes for your companionship, however. It's hard to stay away but he knows he must. There is a bit of relief if you are not someone who will or has been prosecuted by him but its not enough to suppress his fears. If he does get too close...you might die. Be affected by his curse and begone from this earth. He cannot let that happen. Barok only hopes you will not misunderstand his distance as hatred. It's far from it.

...if he, however, came to the truth of the Reaper, of his part of the decade-long play, he feels so much more at ease knowing he does not need to keep you at bay. It also helps if you have known each other for years and nothing has happened...as of yet. It means you are safe and while that is his first priority, he does indulge in the thought of being...closer to you. Barok van Zieks finally finding a connection with another...its sounds like a dream.

...you do get the priviledge of his protection as a highly respected (and feared) prosecutor. Any colleagues having a problem with you or you not getting something that rightfully belongs to you, he can have a quick talk to this other lawyer, secretary or inspector from Scotland Yard to respect the law, justice AND you and finally do the courtesy of their job. All it needs are some stern words and they bend over backwards for him. Barok will then inform you that all is handled - no need to question of how he did it or if it was hard (certainly it wasn't) simply take what you earned.

...not only getting protected by other lawyers but also from the common, everyday folk. Barok is scary - if it isn't for his power, then it is because he is a noble. And if it isn't that, then it is because of his reputation as the Reaper of the Bailey. And if it isn't that, then it is just for the scary look in his eyes. He knows he makes people tremble so all you need to do is call him over and he will be there, striding forward in his usual gait and looking down on whoever decided to mess with you. He will be especially aggrivated if some bafoon troubled a lady. Does this fool not have any class?

...Barok is also generally very protective. He has lost many, his entire family and if you are now so close to his heart...then well, he does get overprotective. Insisting on accompanying you everywhere, bringing his sword with him (and not forgetting his revolver again!), getting you a carriage and paying a very generous sum in order to have you be brought straight home without anyone else enter the cabin. Who knows who might enter and be in a closed off space with you when London has so many criminals? No, he won't let that happen. Barok will not lose you too and is adamant on keeping you safe as long as he gets a say in it.

...he does play the part of a gentleman very well - so well that it is hard to see his antics as 'overprotective'. He offers his arm to you when out in town, walks on the outer side of a sidewalk or staircase to keep you safe and balanced, gets between you and a stranger, helps you off a carriage, shelters you with his very expensive umbrella while getting a part of himself wet and so much more. Barok is a noble so all of this is second-nature but he also wishes to not be anything less to you. You are...precious and therefore deserve to be treated with respect and be spoiled. So its also natural for him to bow with every greeting and farewell you share, to lend you his coat in cool winters, to open and hold doors, shield you in the rain even as he gets wet to the bones. He also does not mind kissing a lady's hand though it does fluster him ever so slightly.

...he shares things with you. Trivial information about him are scarce in the beginning but as time goes on, he is fine on answering any question you have about him. He even tells you more and no longer gives short, stoic answers! It's not that he is shy...he hesitates. Having someone close is dangerous and even as the truth is revealed and he feels safer to have someone be close, Barok is not used to have someone like that. He especially hesitates about telling stories of his childhood. His family consisted only of his brother, after all.

...he shares his treasures - and by that I mean his wine. Since this act is so unusual for him to do, the great and terrifying Reaper sharing a droplet of his hallowed chalice's blood wine, it is the ULTIMATE sign that he is at least, quite, quite, quiiiiiite fond of you. He'd casually ask you one day if you'd like a glass as well as he is pouring one himself. The taste is divine and too superiour for your common folk taste buds. Additionally, he shares everyday consumption items (tea, pastries, biscuits, etc.) with you no problem. All of them are of the highest quality and it is baffling every time you taste them. In what fortune is this guy swimming in to afford such good food?! You're eating like royalty here and this is daily bread for him?! However, Barok admits that seeing you so flabbergasted at the sight and smells of his every day items is more than amusing. He hides a smirk, lets chuckles escape here and there and might tease you for a bit. Never maliciously of course. It's just...fun to see you so flustered.

...Barok has no problem to spare small fortunes for you. No matter if it is for accomadations, needs or even gifts. If you need a ride home, he will pay for a carriage. Haven't eaten yet? Do join him for lunch. He likes that one fancy restaurant and their steaks quite a bit. He sees you with a bent umbrella and a few holes on it? What on earth - hold on, just wait here. Allow him to share his umbrella with you as you go straight to a shop to get you a better, bigger and newer one. You can't be walking like this in London and its often moody weather. He will never ask for repayment but if you do insist, he is fine with getting payback through other transactional means. (No, not like that) Want to express your gratitude for the umbrella? Finish a report for him if you please. You admit you can't cover the cost for a fancy meal? Just eat each crumb off your plate and he is happy. The carriage rides' prices has increased and getting on is a luxury for you now? Ridicilous, just make sure to go straight home and not to dilly-dally. He paid for you to get home safe, after all.

...he enjoys getting you gifts - but rather subtle ones. Useful tools are his go-to. Any other fancy and sentimental item could be...obvious for his affections of you. He is a cold man with a colder reputation but equally shy. He would not know what to do with the stares and questions from all around him if they saw the Reaper handing out flowers or chocolate or jewelry to the one person he cares for...quite a bit. So, any tool that you need and might come in handy are something he keeps in mind. Barok is a good listener and keeps little info dumps from you in the back of his mind. A high-quality pen with ink that dries quickly - you won't get any smudges this way anymore. Or how about gloves that actually keep you warm in winter? Yes, it may be tailored specifically for you and the material is pricey but still, do not pay it any mind. It gets tricky and risky if the gifts go into the direction of coats or shoes, items for your hobby and such. It means he cares, cares very deeply for your well-being to be safe and healthy and warm in this foggy town and he cares deeply about your happiness that he just gets you something to add to your joy. Anyone else will immediately raise a brow at this suspicious behaviour and Barok is in no mood to deal with any of it.

...he ends up slipping and calling you by a pet name. Never, ever has the Reaper of the Bailey ever made such a grave mistake. It just slipped off his lips, rolled down his tongue and he noticed only too late. He tries to play it off, be cool, collected and calm as always but he will end up thinking about well into the night. It's such hard proof for his fondess of you that it could be used in court, used against him. There's no denying anymore and if you do question him, ask him what he means - he cannot deny it. Barok cannot lie to you. You, who has...wormed your way into his dead heart someway, somehow and he cannot even be mad at it, as vexing as it is. Of course, he cannot ever tell the truth but will ask if it bothers you. If yes, he will return to using your usual name with the slightest hint of disappointment. If not, then he will be caught off guard and reaffirm, again just to be sure, if he then keep calling you that. It's...oddly relieving that he can...indulge in his affections for you even by simply calling something different. Something that fits the person he sees with his own eyes.

...the pet names do not vary though. In the beginning he was polite but distant by using your last name with the usual formalities. After considering you a good friend does he use your first name. But Barok is old-fashioned and has never had anyone else be so close to him again since ten years, so he sticks to the things that come naturally to him, the first thing that comes to his mind. 'My dear', or just 'dear', come to mind and are the safest and most direct way for him to put his feelings into words. The most he'd go (and that is a dangerous territory!) is 'my dearest' - its symbolizing you as the closest person he has and that is...heart-racing as well as nerve-wrecking. He cannot do that, let alone go so far as calling you 'love'. Many use it the term affectionally but platonically, but it is still too damn close for him. Too powerful of a word for his heart to handle. Either simple terms or calling you by your name.

...Barok shows his affections through stiff actions. The most he'd go with his words are his terms of endearment and maybe reaffirming how important your bond is to him, but that is it. Gentlemanly actions are expected of him as one of noble blood, so he does not link them to his affection for you. Neither does he hold your hand when you do not need to be guided or embrace you simply because he wants to. It's inproper and why would he do such a thing anyway? Him, Barok van Zieks, being so...soft? But if you introduce him to it, then, well, he has no choice but to accept them, no? If you ask him to hold your hand because you are in need of support or to feel less alone, then he will hesitate - his gaze drifts elsewhere briefly - before he ever so gently takes it. Barok holds it without much force, will not squeeze it but will do as asked of him. The last thing he wants is for you to believe he wouldn't go miles and miles of hell for you but all these actions are slightly unfamiliar and more uncertain for him. The closeness is flustering but he is more so worried he might do something wrong.

...his hugs are tender and unsure, his eyes avoid you, and he holds his breath. If you wish to be held, he will do so. If you want a shoulder to cry on, he will always be there. Any troubles you might have, he will listen and find solutions. But he is ever so uncertain if he can...make you feel safe. Protected, happy, cared for, loved. These worries are the first things he thinks about and the closeness and what it could mean, second. But with the way you might feel, the warmth emitting from you, your scent, the way you look at him, the way you smile, the way you say his name, it might break him. It all feels so loving and warm and wonderful and he does not know what to do. Is he allowed to bask in this? In you? May he go so far and just...accept all of this, no matter how scary it is? Everything of it he enjoys and it comforts him but it is all so terrifying and the last thing he ever wants, the last thing he could ever wish for, is for everything to go wrong and for him to lose you, too. Will it happen if he just lets himself be as fond of you as he wants?

[i-didnt-do-1t]

cw. mentioned death.

It wasn’t the first time her and Jack had fought, she wasn’t sure if she could include the argument on the rooftop, but they’d had their fair share of petty fights since.

This didn’t feel petty though, it felt far too real, and charged and she didn’t get angry like this often but he was making her sound like she was crazy.

“I still don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“You do, I know you do.” She paused, waiting for him to respond or turn to face her, watching the way the muscles on his back worked as he reached up to paint the top left corner of a new back drop for Medda. “Jack would you look at me-“

“I’m paintin’, Kathy.”

“We’re having a conversation.”

“I can multi-task.”

She tensed her jaw, could feel a quiet aching creeping up her throat and tried to swallow it down but it didn’t help.

“You’re being rude.”

“Kathy.” It was spat and overtly unapologetic, his back still turned to her though she could see the white knuckle grip he had on his paintbrush. “Sorry that I weren’t taught etiquette like the guys you grew up around, but could just let me work? And stop asking about stuff I ain’t wanna talk about?”

“I’m not trying to be invasive. There’s no need to be so horrible.”

When he didn’t turn around, and didn’t answer, she tightened her arms around herself, folded over her chest.

“Fine.”

The slight heels of her shoes echoed around the auditorium as she stormed out, maybe Jack looked at her then, felt sick the way she did whenever they argued and it was real and serious, but she didn’t turn around to check.

She slammed the door behind her.

…

She didn’t mean to end up at the distribution gate, the path was familiar these days and she frequently walked the cobblestoned streets to meet Jack when he collected the evening edition but it was nearer night now, the sky dark and drizzling with rain and if she was cold she wouldn’t admit it.

There were still two figures, just inside the gate, loading excess piles of papers into a cart, and one of them brushing up the courtyard in a way that felt pointless considering it was late autumn. The one at the cart threw his head back in what looked like a laugh and Katherine almost felt bad interrupting but curiosity and anger had brewed into a concoction of stubbornness in the pit of her stomach.

“Excuse me?” The gate creaked open under her touch. “Mr delancey?”

It had been months since she last talked to them, had no reason to run into them aside from the strike, but she’d seen them around her father’s office, always together, always scowling.

They both stopped to look at her, as she stepped into the yard, aware of the mud staining the hem of her dress and the way it splattered across her shoes.

“Pulitzer?” It was Oscar, she was fairly certain, though she couldn’t say for sure. Tall, and messy brown curly hair and dark eyes as glared at her. “The hell do you want. Kelly ain’t here.”

“I know he’s not.” She hesitated, observed the way the two of them shared a look. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

She swallowed.

“I- the last time I spoke to you, in my father’s office, you mentioned that Jack had a brother.” Oscar’s expression shifted. “Was his name Michael, by any chance?”

The silence, aside from the city settling down for the evening, seemed to stretch, only to be interrupted by Oscar barking out a laugh.

“Yeah. Yeah, the kid was called Michael. Why do you wanna know. Kelly ain’t told you?” His voice was amused.

If she wasn’t so frustrated, she knew she wouldn’t reveal something so personal, and she wasn’t doing it to be mean, she reassured herself, she just had to know. How on earth was she meant to help Jack if she didn’t know.

Still, It wasn’t all that comforting a thought, especially not as Oscar looked at her, leaning back casually against the cart he’d just been loading, a gleam of something cruel in his eyes.

Or maybe it was just the street lamp.

“Jack’s been saying it in his sleep.” She said, instead of acknowledging it. “And waking up crying, night terrors, I assume.”

“Yeah. He used to get those.”

“So. Why. Over what. I know- I know the refuge was bad but I don’t quite understand-“

“Michael’s dead.”

The stubbornness in her stomach turned to lead. “What?”

“Michael. Kelly’s brother.” He spoke slowly, like she was stupid, shoving a hand in his pocket and pulling out a box of cigarettes as he did so, “he died, and cowboy pretty much killed him.”

“No. No, Jack wouldn’t-“

“You want a smoke?”

Her hands were shaking, she was freezing. The box was being held out to her and she acted on instinct, reaching for one. His fingers were freezing and ink stained where hers brushed his, short bitten fingernails lined with dirt and grit.

“Jack wouldn’t.” She repeated.

“Maybe not on purpose.” He fished a match from a different pocket. “But he loaded him on the back of the carriage, tryna escape the refuge y’know. Like a fuckin’ idiot. And the kid fell off. Cracked his head open and then got run over by the back wheel.”

He said it casually as he lit the end of his cigarette. Like it was nothing.

.

“What.”

Her voice was a croak.

Oscar inhaled smoke and scoffed at her.

“Cowboy got out and Michael didn’t. Could see it from the window.”

“Oh. my god.”

“S’ probably reachin’ that time a year. It was near christmas, I think. Right mo?”

“Yeah. Yeah. cause Snyder gave folk turkey at dinner a couple weeks later.”

“Oh yeah. Course. It was shit.”

The cold air was biting. Katherine could feel it down to her bones.

“I- wait. So Jack-“

“Yeah. Fuckin’ stupid. Kelly can have a go at me all he fuckin’ wants. But at least I kept my wee brother alive.”

“But-“

“You can tell when you know, you see how he acts with the tiny Jacobs? It’s like he forgets sometimes, that he ain’t his.”

That backs of her eyes burned, the aching from the back of her throat creeping up the base of her skull and she had to press a palm over her mouth, gaze blurring with tears.

“Are you cryin’, Pulitzer?”

She was sure she was going to throw up.

“Christ. It was ages ago. Cryin’ ain’t gonna do shit. But it’s probably why he’s havin’ nightmares.”

He exhaled smoke as he spoke, and the smell of it turned Katherine’s stomach.

She pictured Jack again, alone in the theatre, covered in paint and the way she knew he roughly wiped away angry tears with the back of his hand.

The empty look in his eyes when he’d wake up from one of those dreams, pushing away the hand that was carding through his hair, breathing heavy and ignoring her and pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes.

“You gonna smoke that or jus’ hold it.”

She let her hand fall, wordlessly handed back the cigarette. Oscar hesitated.

Held her gaze.

“I dunno actually.” He paused, gave her a once over. “Maybe you should smoke it.”

Beside him Morris nodded, exhaling a lung full of smoke into the cold air.

“It helps.”

[averagestrayrat]

How could I not have mentioned Mycroft! I love his setup, and I love his character in general, I wish he was given more love by adaptations. This man tailored his private and professional life so that it would perfectly fit his specific flavour of autism, how cool is that? A shout-out to the Holmes brothers for making up the perfect job for their brains.

The last films are not among my favourites either, but I do enjoy that Watson drives, and Holmes doesn't. Generally speaking, something this series gets like no other is that Watson is the cool one. Yes, Holmes might be incredibly clever, but at the end of the day he's just a nerd. (except possibly rdj holmes? in a different way, but still. Jude Law's Watson might not be canon watson, but he's still a cool watson. Do you like those movies?)

Ah, yes, the chair scene. I love the chair scene. I love it in Soviet Holmes, and I love it in the canon. I will love Watson threatening people with chairs in any circumstances, honestly. Let my boy throw a chair.

LMAO yes Lestrade looking at the burning shoe and Holmes' finger cut and not doing 2+2 is amazing. I headcanon that, at least in the books, Lestrade knew. The whole "ahah yes it COULD be a description of watson! isn't that hilarious" sounds just too sarcastic to me, and canon Lestrade is smarter than he is given credit for both by Holmes and the average adaptation. The fact that Holmes trusts him enough to discuss Moriarty with him openly, like he does is the valley of fear, when we know that Moriarty had branches everywhere, including the police, which means Holmes believes him uncorrupted and trustworthy. Or that he hangs out at baker street just to drink, gossip, and nap (six napoleons i believe?). I mean, sure, he's sometimes bitter that Holmes is smartass, but honestly, if i was a police inspector and like, Velma from the scooby gang came to tell me how to do my job, I'd be pissed too. ESPECIALLY in the after-watson era. I imagine before-watson Holmes must've been a pain in the ass for the yard already (again, imagine you're just doing your job and this 20something manic true-crime fanboy starts harassing you about it) but then he gets his personal bullshit-enabler that looks at him with heart shaped eyes as he insults your intelligence? Lestrade should be given a medal just for not quitting his job.

WELL i didn't mean to turn this into a full hearted Lestrade defence lol (and i cut myself short)

About the victorian vibe in russian media, i too would like to talk about it more but I'm afraid I actually just said something ignorant? I'm not even sure myself of what I meant, it was an unformed thought.

Heyyy do you have a favourite soviet holmes episode? Or a favourite scene?

Look I've been thinking of what to answer but it's too hard to choose just one because they're all gold and I could talk for hours about each of them, so let me make a list and I promise I'll ATTEMPT not to make it too long.

The beginning of the first episode is undoubtedly among my favourite parts of any adaptation EVER. I love how weird out Watson is, the poor guy thinks he moved in with a master criminal and fears for his life, while Holmes is just trolling him. Top tier introduction.

Every single time that Watson attempts to go incognito and ends up looking extremely suspicious and/or getting recognised.

These two moments, for obvious reasons:

Mrs Hudson in general, but specifically when she wakes up to smell of smoke (because Moriarty's men set fire to the apartment) and she just steps over Watson's body as he coughs on the ground, throws water on the burning furniture, and goes back to sleep. Iconic behaviour.

Speaking of which, this Moriarty gives me the chill. Excellent performance.

The whole King of Blackmail (CHAR is possibly my favourite story from the canon, if it's possible to choose just one). I love how BAD they are at being criminals.

Henry Baskerville is so silly, I love that guy and his big canadian fur. The scene where he and Watson are drunk and they're talking about his crush (who is one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen in my entire life holy shit) is so joyfully boyish.

Hug because friend is here.

Holmes' sarcasm and every time he trolls Watson, just to laugh hysterically when he can't keep it up anymore.

My goal in life is to be this cool:

Not strictly about Soviet Holmes but I find that Russian media have this... very Victorian quality, often. This is an ignorant observation from someone who doesn't know much about Russian cinema/art/literature (though I'd like to) but this is the impression I got. I'm not sure what this quality is, because it's a vibe I get more than a specific connection in themes or aesthetic.

To be honest I could keep going but I wouldn't want to make this too long and bore you. These are surely some top scenes/details for me.

Well, what are YOUR favourite scenes/episodes/things about it? And thanks for the ask!

[moomeecore]

"is this a plant or a weed" im going to pull all the hair out of your head

[skeletalheartattack]

...am I just losing my mind or did yer icon become evil? I don't remember that BeAst behind Boe

yuuuump always been behind me

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

Anyway I got notified that I'll be getting a nice $$ bonus from work today and I wish that I could celebrate with someone in a way that didn't just feel like obnoxious bragging. Like beyond the financial aspect, it's just nice to be recognized for good work and I actually feel... good?? about this job??

But it feels so silly to say I want to celebrate when I just got back from what felt like my first real vacation in a very long time and am doing cool comic con stuff this weekend and am scheduled for a new tattoo next weekend. I am already doing lots of things to try to make myself feel good! It feels selfish to want more!

But I guess even with all of that, there's just still a hunger for external validation from trusted sources. Will I ever grow out of wanting someone to be proud of me?

[box-of-sims]

My sweet baby 💜 I miss her so much 😢💔

[didnt-hear-idsb-live-again]

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