#I was watching it and going oh god. what did they do to you Bertie

[milquetoast27]

It's well-understood that Hugh Laurie's depiction of Gregory House is very much based on Sherlock Holmes (see article above), but there's a bit more to it than that!

Arthur Conan Doyle wrote of Dr Joseph Bell, his teacher at Edinburgh University, who apparently "used methods of observation and deduction on his patients." His autobiography, Memories and Adventures (1923) recalls an instance of Bell accurately reasoning the occupation of a civilian patient as well as a few other details. While this had produced dramatic effect at times, "there were [also] times when he blundered". Needless to say, Dr Bell is regarded as the original inspiration for Sherlock Holmes, and it is fun to see an evolution of this character become more like his real-life inspiration.

Additionally (and this is complete coincidence) there is the detail that an undoubted prototype of Sherlock Holmes, appearing in Doyle's 1887 Uncle Jeremy's Household is named Hugh Lawrence! Hugh Laurie has never played Sherlock Holmes, but among having played Mycroft Holmes and Greg House, it's close enough for me :)

[snorkling-in-sodasea]

Thoughts about Sinsmas

Well, I was right. Stolas got more called out than ever but Blitz immediately swooped in to comfort him and take care of him, like he did throughout the entire episode. Even though literally the only thing Stolas ever thanks Blitzo for is saving his life. Not cooking him every bit of breakfast food they had so that Stolas could still eat something, not giving Stolas a job to ensure he still has money of his own, getting Stolas whatever he wants and even resorting to stealing it to make sure he gets it... Seriously, Stolas is repeatedly called the nice guy. Well, wouldn't nice guys not seem so judgmental about their host's graciousness and actually thank them for everything they've done? But no, Stolas only took note of saving his life so he highly likely thinks that it's the only thing that counts. Seriously, that damn bird is seeming more and more to me like my mother's side of the family. They say things like 'we're trying to take care of you' or 'call us any time' but then they turn around and do shit like badmouth my dad and obviously act like he doesn't count as my dad just because we're not related by blood (he's the actual dad of some of my brothers so that's why we still see each other, if this explanation is actually needed). Oh, geez, my grandmother especially hated that I called Dad 'dad' and she insisted - yelled, even if we semi-separated via sitting in a car - that my real dad is the same guy who tried telling me that caring about the brothers who aren't biologically his sons is solely Mom's job. (Okay, that's not his exact words, but that was the gist of what my birth father was saying).

But yeah, Stolas is reminding me more of my mom's side of the family because any 'love' I get from them is lip service. Anything good I get from them is material items that they bother giving me because they're obligated to or because they hope to butter me up for something they want from me. They've proven time and time again that they'll care more about themselves than they ever will me. Well, I still can't think of much that Stolas has done to show that he loves Octavia. Literally the list of things he's done is hug his daughter whenever she's distressed and I guess warn Striker to not go after Octavia after he implied a threat to her, even if that was the only time that Stolas thought about her during Western Energy. Also, at this point, I'm not liking how it's seeming that all the good times that Octavia has had with Stolas is just when she's a little little girl, like she's not even ten yet, by the looks of it. What about that guitar that Octavia plays in Sinsmas? Other than wanting to see Octavia play that instrument in the background earlier in the show, I can see on the back that it says 'Love Dad'. What, can't we see a time of Stolas gifting that to her, when she's bound to be older than ten? Couldn't we get any memories of good times when Octavia's over ten?

Speaking of Octavia, I thought of an episode of Invincible Fight Girl when Blitz said that Octavia will 'come around'. (God, I hate that saying ever since one of my uncles said it). But for anyone who doesn't watch the show or know about it, Invincible Fight Girl is about a girl who wants to be a wrestler. She lives in a whole world full of them, I guess like Mucha Lucha but unmasked. There's this famous retired wrestler, the girl wants the retired wrestler to be her mentor, and the would-be mentor sets up a goal to master a move called 'The Perfect Strike'. Well, the main characters go to a worn down town for any leads on accomplishing it and they meet a girl named Bertie.

Bertie wanted to take everything away from her parents so that they have nothing left to focus on but her, because apparently the parents got defeated in a match by the retired wrestler by the Perfect Strike. The parents were so devastated by the loss that they obsessed over it, thought they made a discovery to help master the move that defeated them, but divorced when they didn't see eye to eye. What's more, the divorced parents spent at least ten years having an ongoing war with each other over their differing opinions. Bertie has an ability to hulk out and she definitely did due to her anger over being neglected so heavily that she's practically abandoned.

The show has narration from time to time so there was this one line. 'Where understanding failed, hatred blossomed'. That line was aimed at Bertie failing to understand her parents focusing on wrestling far more than they did her. As in, it sounds like to me that Bertie's supposed to be understanding of being left alone all the time ever since she was a kid. Over wrestling and her parents having lost a match. Naturally, I thought of Bertie's overall situation when that line came up and I thought 'what is there to understand?'

So what's there for Octavia to understand? About Stolas frequently choosing Blitz over her, taking his time remembering she exists, and, as far as the show has actually shown me, mostly just expresses his love through saying that he loves her? Not to mention, it feels like Octavia 'has' to understand her father breaking his promise and leaving her behind like she was afraid of. Bertie and Octavia 'has' to accept having been hurt because their parents are more important

Well, screw that

(Also, I couldn't fit this in anywhere without breaking the flow, but I'm even getting tired of Stella now, definitely of Andrealphlus. Seriously, Andrea is just gay guy Stella at this point, especially since it's taken two whole seasons for Stella to ever directly talk to her own daughter on screen. Can Stella be obsessed with bathroom decorations or something? It'll be doing something that isn't laughing at Stolas's misery or being pissed off at Stolas's existence. Fuck, it'll be something outside of Stola's influence in the fucking first place. I still love Stella, definitely more than I ever will Stolas, but just have Stella do or be anything other than a Stolas hater, PLEASE!)

(Another thing I just remembered, I personally would have liked it if the client had green hair. I mean, there's already spikes on her hair like thorns and she has tree bark antlers and it is Christmas where she used to be when alive. So why not make her hair and shirt collar - which look like leaves - green? Then we would still look at her face thanks to her eyes being one of the few traces of bright red to her design and her green colors would help her stand out more from the red background)

[yeah-thats-probably-it]

S04E06- Ties That Bind

Oh god I’m not ready

Bertie and Jeeves passing judgement on Madeline and Spode together

Jeeves is very aware of the danger posed by Madeline and Spode breaking up

I just realized what this series has done with Tuppy, they’ve turned him into Ukridge

Well, not quite Ukridge, his get-rich-quick schemes tend to backfire on himself more than others, but if there was one character who was going to be Ukridge, it makes sense that it was Tuppy, since his final plot line has to do with needing to extract money from someone

It at least makes him a more distinctive character than just Interchangeable Menace #3

The actor playing Brinkley fucking kills it in every scene, I love him

“But you’re an absolute idiot, Ginger!” “I know! :D”

Having Brinkley tell Jeeves instead of Bertie to place bets against Ginger gives us a scene where Jeeves brings his worries to Bertie, which I love

One running joke I really like in this series is hearing snippets of Spode’s actual insane political beliefs

I do kind of wish they’d kept it at Brinkley Court, though. TTB was such a great book for Bertie/Dahlia banter

As much as I love to see Bertie and Jeeves heisting together, nothing beats Jeeves immediately taking the nuclear option and straight up drugging a guy

The actual tremor in Jeeves’s voice after he and Bertie escape with the book

“The trouble is you meet this girl with a perfect profile, curly hair and a willowy figure, and bingo! you say to yourself, this is the one! Accept no substitutes!” And Bertie nodding along like “uh huh, yup, totally know what that feels like”

I’m glad that even without Aunt Dahlia they were able to find another way to sprinkle in the fact that Bertie is not heterosexual

That soft little “oh” from Jeeves when Bertie tells him he’s engaged to both Madeline and Florence

Though really though, couldn’t you argue it actually puts you in a better position to be engaged to both of them if you want to marry neither? Because you literally can’t marry both, and if they both find out about the other engagement they might get angry and want to break it off

I’m enjoying the recurring water pipes bit. I love a good B plot

Why is he trying to stop them from finding out he’s engaged to both of them? Is “attempted bigamy” an actual crime you can be charged with?

It’s too bad Jeeves didn’t actually rescue Bertie from getting hit with the cab in this version, but watching him tenderly help Bertie up off the ground twice is pretty good too

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t a kangaroo

Florence/Brinkley wasn’t something I would’ve ever put on my bingo card, but it makes a weird amount of sense within the episode and is fucking hilarious

Really wish they would’ve kept Jeeves destroying the club book pages, as that was incredibly symbolically important, but they DID have him dramatically enter the church to stop the wedding at almost the last second while swelling romantic music played, so we kind of still got a Jooster wedding scene

And now I’m done with the series!! What a wild and uneven ride. Some good, bad, and interesting choices were made. That was fun! I had fun

[rand0mfangurlstuff]

Sing Yourself to Sleep - Bucky x Y/N - Part Ten - I Will Always Love You

This chapter was incredibly hard to write. But I had a vision of how I wanted this chapter to go and I think I got there in the end. Only one or two chapters left of this. Loosely inspired by Whitney Houston - I Will Always Love You

Major Gale Cleven was dead. The news spread like wildfire throughout Thorpe Abbotts. Y/N was devastated. Gale was a good man. Brave, and kind. He deserved better. Her heart broke even more when she thought of Bucky. Who would tell him? He was in London on weekend leave. On leave because of what she did. Maybe that was her final gift to him; sending him to London. Otherwise he would have met the same fate as Gale. Maybe he would have preferred that...

***Thirty- Six Hours Earlier***

'Goodbye John' she said as she walked away. She walked as fast as her two legs would carrie her. She needed to get out of there before he had the chance to chase after her, and before she had the chance to change her mind. It broke her heart to break things off with Bucky, but she knew she had to. Knew that it was the only way. Bucky deserved better than her, than an already married woman. Used goods. If their relationship became common knowledge it could ruin Bucky's career. Military men all stuck together and the higher ups would blacklist Bucky as soon as they heard he was fooling around with the Colonel's wife.

She landed back to her quarters to find Albert sitting at the table reading the paper.

'Hello dear.' He said as he looked up from the paper and took a sip of his coffee.

'Hello Bertie.' She hoped she didnt look upset.

'Nice walk?' he asked with his nose burried in the sports section.

'Oh fine. It's a little chilly out there today. I might go for a bath to warm me up.'

'That's fine dear, don't take too long though. I'll need to have a soak too before we head to the club tonight.'

The club. Oh god she could not go to the club.

'I'm not really feeling in the mood for the club tonight. But you go if you want.'

Albert stood from the table and made his way towards her.

'That's not like you Y/N, everything okay?'

'Yes of course, I just feel a bit tired. Maybe I'm coming down with a cold or something.'

'You poor thing. You draw yourself a nice bath. Hopefully you feel better soon.' He kissed her cheek.

'Thank you dear. You should still go though.'

'No no, I should be here taking care of you. Perhaps we shall just have a night in tonight.'

'That sound lovely.' With that she smiled, kissed his cheek and headed for the bathroom.

She pushed the bathroom door closed behind her and turned on the taps at the end of the tub. As the water filled the tub, so did the tears rolling down her face.

____________________________________________________________

She once again found herself crying in her bathtub. Poor Gale, Poor Bucky. She knew he would be devastated. Knew this loss would crush him completely. She wanted to be there for him. But it was too late for that. He likely would want nothing to do with her.

It was later that afternoon that she heard Bucky had returned to base early. She knew what that meant. He was flying today. Dread filled her. She wanted to go to him, beg him not to do this. But she knew it was no use. He would go avenge Buck whether she liked it or not.

She hid around the corner of the controll tower, watching as the men assembled into the planes one by one. She didnt want anyone to notice her paying such close attention to the pilots, espically one pilot in particular. When she saw him, he was without his usual sheepskin jacket. He boarded the plane and she could just about see him through the window getting set up for take-off. She blew a kiss in his direction, hoping somehow it would wrap around him like a blanket and keep him safe. She watched as he flew into the sky, a silent tear escaping her.

____________________________________________

What felt like a lifetime but was really only a few hours passed. She was in the kitchen, making the chocolate chip cookies Bucky likes so much. She figured he would enjoy a nice treat when he got back to base. Something to soak up all the whiskey she was sure he was drinking. She was just about to pop them in the oven when she heard the shuffling of footsteps and the quiet, muffled sobs. She retreated from the kitchen into the mess hall to see a few of the red cross girls huddled together, wiping away the tears of one girl in particular.

'Ladies? Whats wrong?' she knew what was wrong. It didnt take a genious to know why a red cross girl would be in tears hours after a mission. She'd lost someone. One of the girls looked up at Y/N

'It's Mark, he didnt come home. A lot of them didn't.' she said.

Her friend burst into tears at the mention of the mans name. Y/N felt ashamed that the name 'Mark' didn't mean anything to her. She left the mess and headed towards the offices. As she approached she saw a man storm out and kick the wall beside him in frustration. She headed up the stairs and came across Harry Crosby. He looked on the verge of tears.

'Harry? Are you okay?'

He startled at the sound of her voice. Standing abruptly and wiping his face her said 'Mrs. Clarke, oh I'm sorry its just... oh hell... they're gone Y/N, Mrs. Clarke, they're all gone. Only one plane made it back.'

One plane?? Only one plane? Oh god, please let that one plane be Bucky's.

'Oh god, only one? Who?..'

'Rosie.' Harry finished before she could. He and his crew are the only ones to make it back.'

'But Bucky- Major Egan?'

'Egan's gone.' he said holding back tears. 'His plane went down. No sign on any chutes.'

No. no. no. no. Please no. Not Bucky. Please. He cant be gone. Not after everything. He was supossed to be safe. He was supposed to survive all this and meet a nice girl and fall in love. He couldn't be dead.

She stood there. Staring straight ahead. She barely noticed Harry excuse himself. She felt everything and nothing all at once. She felt ike she had just been shot right in the chest. She had heard soldiers saying that sometime the pain is so severe that your body shuts down so you dont feel it anymore. She was certain thats what was happening now.

A hand on her shoulder broke her from her trance.

'I'm sorry dear.' Albert said to her. 'I know how fond you were of Major Egan.'

He said everything he needed to and could in that moment. I know you were fond of him. I know you were having an affair. I know you loved him. I know his death is going to tear apart your soul. She couldnt form a response.

'Come now, sit and have a drink. You're in shock.' I forgive you. I'm going to take care of you. I still love you. I will help you grieve the loss of your lover.

He ushered her towards and empty chair and handed her a flask of whiskey for her to drink. As their hands connected over the flask she grabbed onto him and looked him in the eyes for the first time in what felt like years, 'Thank you, Bertie.' and with those words and that look in her eyes she said I'm sorry. I love you. Thank you for loving me. I will be a better wife.

John Egan was dead. And her heart was broken. But maybe this was how it was meant to be. Maybe now she could grieve, and move on. The love her and John shared would always be with her, in the depths of her soul. But that was a burning love that was never meant to last. Her marriage, to her wonderful kind husband, was what she truly needed. This was would end soon. She and Albert would go back home. Thorpe Abbotts and everyone in it would be a distant memory.

She would survive this heartache and learn from it. She would never forget it, but she would overcome it. As she raised the flask to her lips, she said one final goodbye to John Bucky Egan. I'm sorry Bucky, for everything. I love you. Part of me will always love you. You are safe in heaven now. You free from pain and suffering. I will carry on, as I know you would want me to. Rest in Peace my love.

[smuttyfang]

Bertram, Cupcake

“Oh god yes! I'm so happy to you're still writing these; if requests are open maybe Bertram with a female Malkavian ghoul? Kinda how Heather adapted Malk speech patterns? SFW or NSFW, dealer's choice!”

Words: 1,350

“Bertie- I mean, Bertram?” Jeanette yelled out into the darkness of the large old oil tank at the end of town. Her voice sounded a bit sad. You knew that Therese told her she had to stop messing around with Bertram, and that it clearly did bother her a bit. However, you knew she was fine in all reality. She was already seeing other men to purposely piss Therese off. Maybe she was just pretending to be sad, who really knew? Malkavians were very strange. It wasn’t something difficult to figure out. Not after becoming a ghoul and hearing those voices..

“Whadd’ya need?” You heard a deep and raspy voice in the shadows, but you couldn’t even tell exactly where it was coming from. Jeanette sighed and rolled her eyes dramatically, crossing her arms in frustration.

“Bert, I don’t have time! Therese will get angry if I take too long. Come out.” He then stepped from the shadows, his dark red eyes being the first thing you saw. He had boils on his head and jagged teeth. Long claw like fingernails. He was obviously a Nosferatu, from what Jeanette had taught you so far. “I need you both to take care of a problem for me and Therese. You don’t want to piss her off again, do you?” Bertram sighed, clearly annoyed with both sisters at this point.

“No I don’t, but I would also enjoy just being left alone.” Jeanette crinkled her nose and grunted at him.

“You live here in our territory, you have to help!” Bertram grumbled. You were still learning the rules of how things worked in this society, but you did know that he was technically required to help the Prince of Santa Monica if called upon. He wasn’t happy about it clearly, but knew he didn’t have a choice. Jeanette walked over to him, talking to him quietly about what needed to be done. In the short amount of time that you had been Jeanette’s ghoul, you already experienced some of the side effects of the clan. Sometimes your words didn’t come out right, they became cryptic. Sometimes you heard voices in the back of your mind that sounded just like Jeanette talking to you. It was still a lot to get used to. As they both talked about the mission, you heard a voice in your head.

‘Don’t mess up. You have to be perfect.’ You shook your head. That didn’t sound like Jeanette. At all. You weren’t afraid of Jeanette. When you heard her voice, it sounded sweet and seductive. Almost comforting. This time, it sounded way too much like Therese. You felt a shiver run down your spine. What the fuck was happening? You held your head in your hands.

“Don’t.. I’m not yours! Why, you?” You yelled out. Their talking stopped, and you quickly felt Jeanette’s arms around you. She began petting your head, like you were her pet.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. I know. It might happen sometimes that way.” The feeling of overwhelming fear was suddenly just sucked out of you. You were fine. You looked at Jeanette’s sweet eyes, smiling at her.

“It’s okay! It doesn’t hurt anymore!” Bertram made a little humming sound as he watched, curious.

“See? Everything is fine, duckling. Don’t worry! I would never let anything bad happen to you. Bertram is going to teach you some things while you get something done for me, okay?” You nodded your head excitedly, just happy to be of use to Jeanette. You still didn’t like the thought of Therese, but that no longer mattered! Jeanette was taking care of you. Jeanette gave you a light kiss on your cheek before walking out of the oil tank and disappearing down the street. You touched your cheek, feeling the tingling left behind by her lips. Turning around, you looked at Bertram. You weren’t sure what to make of him just from first sight.

“So, cupcake..” You raised an eyebrow at him. “She told me what we needed to do. I guess I’m supposed to show you the ropes a little. You cocked your head at him, curious and intrigued.

“Cupcake? Am I sweet? How would you know?” You giggled. He chuckled.

“Just have a feeling.” He shrugged his shoulders at you. You felt an urge to walk around him. Putting your hands behind your back, you walked around him in a circle, just checking him out. He seemed used to dealing with Malkavians, as he wasn’t really fazed by you doing something odd.

“You seem more like a sweet and sour candy!” You giggled. “Some sweetness, but not fully.” He chuckled.

“You make a good assessment I suppose. I have a soft spot for newbies, but don’t tell anyone.” Your eyes lit up as you got right in his face, not bothered by his appearance in the slightest.

“I’m a newbie and a cupcake! A new cupcake would be very sweet and soft.. what do you think? What else?” You weren’t even sure what you were saying exactly, but somehow Bertram knew.

“You’re pretty cute.. I’ll give you that too.” Ah, he cracked the code. You wanted more compliments, and he quickly obliged. It excited you more than you could ever say that he seemed to understand so well what you were saying. Most people were confused at your strange choice of words, and your odd speech pattern. How sometimes you would feel quite serious and stern, and then you would suddenly switch to your bubbly and loud side. It didn’t bother him in the slightest.

“You understand!” You wrapped your arms around him, clearly the first thing you’ve done so far that has surprised him a bit. He jumped a little before chuckling and awkwardly wrapping one arm around you. “You do understand! Am I not odd to you? Strange? Cupcakes can be strange in color and texture sometimes.”

“That’s true, but they’re still sweet nonetheless.” How was he so smooth with his words? You were so giddy you felt like a schoolgirl. Someone really understood you. You wrapped your arm through his like you were going on a date.

“I like you, sweet for now. Not sour yet. Show me the ropes! Show me how to undo the knots for Jeanette.” He just accepted your holding him as he showed you a way to exit the oil tank without him being seen just walking out onto the street. You walked along with him confidently, not the least bit afraid of any harm coming to you. The voice in your head, sweet once more.

‘He’s good! He’s so good! Nothing bad will happen, he’s so good.’ It sounded like Jeanette, and it was clear to you that she trusted him in some way. You were taught already not to trust anyone fully, but you could feel that he wouldn’t allow you to get hurt if nothing else.

“I won’t turn sour on you cupcake. I’ll show you some things I know, but not everything.” He winked at you, continuing to lead you through dark, empty alleyways.

“Oooh, secrets. Everyone hides so many of them. They’re everywhere.” He nodded his head.

“Yeah. If you take any lesson from me, take that one. Don’t tell anyone everything you know. Always keep something in your back pocket just in case.” You stopped in your tracks, reaching into your back pocket. You pulled out some chapstick, taking off the lid and pressing some onto your lips. You looped your arm back through his and continued walking with him.

“I have that! Never know when someone might give me a smooch.” Bertram chuckled at you, shaking his head.

“I didn’t mean that literally.” You nodded your head, grinning widely.

“I know, secrets! I have those back there too. But you reminded me that my lips were dry.” He stopped walking and crouched down low in front of the small building at the end of the alley. You crouched down with him.

“Let's get in here and get started. The quicker we get finished, the quicker we can talk more about smooching.”

[theliterarywolf]

oh thank GOD you think Dead End sucks too,(the webcomic was such a chore to read and the pilot from a few years back was really boring my fucking god) I'm floored that netflix would cancel The Midnight Gospel in favor of DE, tbf I wasn't interested in the show but I know huge swaths of folks who found the show to be very good and feeling a sense of catharsis? Upon watching it

Great only thing to look forward to is a crappy webcomic becoming a show and probably getting 10 seasons because "ITS SO INCLUSIVE" and more Boss Baby

Ugh shoot me now

I was initially neutral on the existence of Dead End because all I knew about it was that the main character is trans but the art style and premise looked... not great.

Like, we all know that I hate when people pull the whole 'Cal Arts' argument and I wish that people would use the term 'Corporate Art Style'... but this show's art style is literally every bad element of Corporate Art Style.

To the point that I take back every negative comment I had when the first teasers for Centaurworld came out.

What makes it worse is when Netflix keeps talking about 'we're the place for animation~' and they keep only focusing on Dead End and Boss Baby, just... no.

I think the reason why I'm moreso frustrated with this current round of cancelations (I was already upset with the first two waves) is two-fold.

Netflix's management strategies have gone from ignorant, to malicious, to brain-dead. If what has been laid out is to be believed, the initial wave of cancelations happened due to the higher-ups at Netflix realizing that the person in charge of the animation sector was artificially inflating viewership numbers. How the hell did you guys allow for that to happen? And how the hell do you think that slicing down original, engaging animated content is going to fix the situation?

Even if Pendleton Ward tries to take The Midnight Gospel to another network or streaming service, I already know he's going to face the same exact nightmare that Lisa Hanawalt has been with Tuca and Bertie. i.e.: Netflix doesn't want the show, even goes through concentrated efforts to bury it on their platform so no one can watch it, cancels it... But when the showrunner gets a better deal for it elsewhere, cue Netflix holding that first season just out of reach to make said showrunner's life difficult.

With that last one, that's the reason why (despite Tuca and Bertie S2 completing its run on Adult Swim ages ago), Cartoon Network/Adult Swim is only just now being able to consider putting it on HBO Max

I think I'm just overall in a 'this can not continue' mindset because on the mainstream front of animation, we keep getting gloom and doom, and now on the indie front of animation there are far too many people acting entitled in regards to content they are getting for free.

Yes, that last portion is in regards to how VivziePop has been harassed to the point of having to take an online hiatus due to people acting like Episode 8 of Helluva Boss S1 being delayed due to legal issues is a crime against humanity (even though we're getting S2 in July, so it's not like the show is on a large hiatus overall)... Why do you ask?

[silly-chump]

Downton Abbey: New Era Thoughts!! (1/2)

Hooray, I've finally seen it and it was so much fun that I expected actually. If you haven't seen it, PLEASE DO NOT READ FURTHER DOWN. But all I can say it's a terrific and happy film-- much like coming back home to Downton.

So let's get it, this is quite long but here are my thoughts.

First of all, I'll comment on the overall movie itself since I did really appreciate it as a whole and then I will go on to specifics, stating what were my favorite moments and not-so favorites. Now, the cinematography in this film is just to die for. I correctly imagined how this would have turned up in the beginning, it was indeed magical and quirky at the same time! THE SHOTS WERE WOW. The costumes were too beautiful-- even for the movie actors. And oh my god, Mary's day wear and Edith's outfits for France? ABSOLUTE FAVORITES. On the other hand, I've listened to the score beforehand and my comments remain the same: I'm missing the enigma aspect of the film because we're out here really speculating things but it did not miss the jazziness of it all. After all, it's almost the 30's.

Now, I really do admit that the plot was moving too fast-- especially when right after Tom and Lucy's wedding, we discuss the issue about the French villa. I was like, "hold up, we're going there right now?" but I did love it afterwards. Watching A New Era was such a refresher I guess, more of a breather than the first film. It had more comedic scenes (courtesy of the Downstairs people and of course, Violet) but there were some revelations that did not really surprise me. I think the film helped me with coping and accepting the closing of Violet's character arc. Looking back, we could have already expected her death but just like losing any loved one, it's just as painful.

Nevertheless, Downton never hesitates to give us hope. The end was just really another beginning and I do like to believe that there would be another Downton film-- after all, we never end, right? But my opinion still stands, a film is not enough to capture the essence and equality of storyline for the characters-- which what made me, personally, continue watching it and loving it. So Mr. Fellowes, what do you say, another season perhaps? Kidding! But not kidding. ;)

And now, we get to the good part: my rants. This will probably be a mix of my favorites and non-favorites so I hope you are ready.

It lacked to give us a glimpse of Edith and Bertie's children. I miss protectivemother!Edith so much and it should at least show how she cares for her Edith and Bertie's but then again, they were cast aside. :(

The whole France journey was just.. idk it could have been written better? There could have been more dramatic effect. Instead I got the feeling that they just went to France just to look at the villa-- that's it. They could have hired a private detective to do that but anyways. I just think that they could have brought Sybbie with them and probably had her the talk or something-- considering she's the eldest of the Crawley grandchildren after all.

Myrna Dalgleish sounded so much like Adele and I am not at all complaining!! Loved the part where she was reminded of her sister through Daisy, I WAS JUST SO SOFT

I am all for Robert being emotional but why did I feel like it's a little bit forced? I mean I can understand that as an English person, he should know better but c'mon. (this was when Cora told him she was sick or smthing) And Cora! She was all angst in the film and I didn't like it. :< apart from when she's teaching Myrna Dalgleish to speak American of course, that made me cackle.

Mary and Edith in this are just so lovely. They banter but in a loving sister manner. THE END WHERE MARY WRAPS HER ARMS AROUND EDITH AS THEY SOB IS SOMETHING I WILL NEVER FORGET BECAUSE OH MY GOD-- DEFINITELY A DEVELOPMENT FOR MARY HOORAY!

I found the whole fiasco with Mary sort-of mirroring Violet's mysterious past rather meh. I mean they are rather similar in characteristic but it doesn't mean her storyline should be like her's. The whole situation with Mr. Barber just reminds me of Season 4-5 where Mary's arc just centered around men. THAT IS WHY WE NEED HENRY AND UGH WHY ISN'T HE EVEN THERE?

We are aware that Edith is getting back on her journalistic adventures but this was set aside-- it was such a good prompt especially since Laura Carmichael sort of mentioned it many times but it was rather irrelevant. I'd like to see her not just write for a magazine but do actual journalistic/detective work. She could have worked with the French man (forgot him name sorry) and got to the bottom of the issue.

DAISY AND ANDREW. These two lovebirds-- ugh, I couldn't get enough of them honestly!! Especially when they started dragging Mrs. Patmore and Mr. Mason together just for them to have some alone time is just wow, I couldn't help but wiggle my eyebrows but then again, this is not Bridgerton so can't sex things up. But ya know what I'm talking about.

MOLESLEY!!!!!!! This movie just reminded me why he is one of my favorite characters. He had so many hidden talents and how he described the vision for the film is like every theatre kid describing a scene from a movie AND I IDENTIFY. You can just see the passion in his eyes and I can't wait for his Hollywood ventures to come honestly.

When Myrna kissed Albert the footman on the cheek. Was. DEFINITELY. CUTE. Actually the whole fiasco where Daisy and Albert are trying to get close to the stars are just #relatable.

THOMAS. BARROW. I know my dashboard is full about him and now I completely understand. It was just confusing, for me, how giving up Downton was a "redemption" arc for his character. It gave me the impression that "okay, we're closing Thomas' arc by having him join a movie star travelling the world." And for me, that's like Gwen in the first season of the show. But Thomas had actually journeyed throughout the show and this should not be the end of him. THOMAS AND RICHARD HARRIS HAD SO MUCH POTENTIAL AND YA'LL JUST HAD TO SCRATCH THAT AWAY. THANKS A LOT FELLOWES.

Following the previous point, I did not really see Carson's relevance. It's like the first film all over again, and I know we're trying to get all the characters back together again but let the man enjoy retirement for once.

Since this post has a text limit, I will continue it again in another post, but shorter. :) Thanks for reading!

[house-of-slayterr]

Heyyyy I was Wrondering if you could do a story on Bertie Eren and ducky meeting buni if that's okay 💖💖

Of course my love ❤️

Hop Into My Arms

I rolled my eyes as I watched Eren and Bertie being all lovie dovie with each other. They were always like this when they got back from a fresh kill. Didn’t matter if they were covered in blood or not, though fortunately for me they weren’t this time.

“Can you guys like get a room or something?”

“Reminder that your living in our house.” Bertie warned.

“Ummm, not your house-“

“Eren’s house, I’m Eren’s boyfriend and I live here. You’d understand if you had a significant other, oh wait, you killed them.”

I growled, lunging at Bertie but Eren stepped in between us. He put his hand on my shoulder and forced me to take a deep breath.

“I don’t want my two favorite people fighting ok. This is all of our homes, and Bertie, Dear, that was kind of a low blow. Really?”

“I’m not apologising if that’s what you think. I was simply stating a fact.”

If only he knew what had really happened to Cotton, that they were still alive and out there causing beautiful chaos in some other town. They still visited our tree sometimes, but they seemed to be more and more busy now. I sighed heavily.

“Now, why don’t we go do something together, just the three of us. The two of you really need to get along better.”

“We we’re getting along just fine before he decided to be a dick and steal all your attention away from me.”

“God I really forget you’re just a kid sometimes Duck, how’s high school treating you? Don’t you have prom or something to be worrying about.”

My face froze, despite the obvious jab Bertie was going for, I did actually have prom coming up. How the hell did I forget it was prom season. I fidgeted on my feet, not wanting to admit he was right.

“You literally had prom two years ago Buddy, stop acting like you’re so much better than me. And yes, I actually do have prom to worry about fuck you very much.”

“I’m flattered, really, but I’m already taken.”

“Enough!” Eren shouted. “Will the two of you stop! I love you both for very different reasons, so you don’t have to act like this is some sort of competition. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel neglected recently Ducky, I truly do care, why don’t we go pick out your prom outfit today? Then you can tell me all about who you’re gonna invite as your date.”

I rolled my eyes yet again. Date, like I could get one of those. I had a few friends, sure, and I’d probably go with them. Evelyn was nice, Veronica could be tolerated I suppose. There was no way in hell I could ask Cotton and risk Bertie find out they were alive.

“Sure. Just let me go get ready.”

“Ducky?” Eren’s warning tone came.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to see you scowling any more today, ok, it’s not a good look on you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

I gave him a fake smile. I could hear Bertie and him arguing from beyond my door, but I just tuned them out. They may be slightly toxic, but I could tell they did really love each other. But I suppose any relationship between two serial killers with dominate personalities isn’t going to be without major faults. They both wanted to be in charge and that didn’t really work. Neither of them were particularly team players either.

I changed into something comfortable, and something easy to slip out of. I hated getting all dressed up just to go try on more clothes. It took too long to get undressed.

“Is there- is there something on my face?” I asked.

“No, you just look cute.” Eren assured.

“Thanks.” I said pointedly.

The drive to the mall was silent between the three of us. Which I enjoyed cause it meant none of us were fighting. So I suppose that was progress. The mall was loud, and crowed, as to be expected around this time of year. But I hated it, school was already hard enough, but malls were worse. You were actually permitted to have fun here, and unfortunately fun was very VERY loud.

Bertie had dragged us from store to store, stopping whenever he saw something he liked in the window. I guess when you have blood on all your clothes, you need a constant supply of new ones. I rocked back and forth on my feet in the middle of the store, staring at my shoes and covering my ears with my hands. The florescent lights were driving me insane. I heard laughing and saw a group of girls staring at me, Veronica with them.

“What, is the little baby having a breakdown?”

‘Not now Ronnie’ I thought. But I ignored her the best I could. She wasn’t always like this, only when she was around her ‘friends’ or she felt like she had something to prove.

“Hey I’m talking to you idiot!” She snapped.

I felt a shove on my shoulder and it pushed my overstimulation over the edge. I tackled her to the floor, and put her in a choke hold, quickly forgetting where I was.

“What the hell are you doing?” I heard Bertie yell.

I looked down at Veronica then back at him and I let my arms drop.

“Sorry.” I muttered weakly.

I made my way over to we’re Bert stood with his arms crossed, angry. And Eren looked concerned.

“What the hell are you thinking? You can’t just attack people in public Ducky.”

“She atta- you know what it doesn’t matter, can we just find me a prom outfit and get the fuck out of here? I hate the mall.”

Eren put his arm around me in a worried way and guided me out do the store, and over to the nearest dress store. It was packed, but the sooner I got this over with, the sooner I could go home. The lady at the front of the store instantly greeted us, but Eren kept me at his side, hoping to keep me calm.

“And what kind of dress are we looking for young lady?” She asked me.

I scrunched my nose in disgust.

“Actually, they don’t know if they want a dress.” Bertie defended.

It was odd, hearing him care, hearing him be nice. But I must say I enjoyed it when he wasn’t at my throat. Maybe he could see now I wasn’t trying to steal Eren back from him. Eren and I simply didn’t work how we used to, we are different people now.

“We’ll we do have a few suits, why don’t I set them aside for you and you can look around for you’re self sweetheart.”

I nodded at her, and rushed to the back of the store, feeling overwhelmed.

I haphazardly grabbed a few dresses of the shelf, not really caring what I picked. I heard footsteps behind me and knew they were following me over to the dressing room.

“They really hate shopping don’t they?” I heard Bertie whisper shout to Eren.

“I usually pick out all their clothes.”

I went into the dressing room and came out in the first outfit. I was surprised that it fit quite well. But I felt like and idiot who was about to get married. Nothing about this outfit screamed, well, me.

“You alright in there?” Eren’s thoughtful voice came.

“Yeah did the dress swallow you whole or something?“ Bertie joked.

“Just a minuet!” I shouted back.

I soothed the dress and stepped out into the lounge area.

I did a little spin.

“So?”

Eren shook his head.

“Look like a-“

“Wedding dress” Bertie finished.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking. Next.” Eren said.

So I climbed out of this dress and into the next one. It was prettier, but it still felt way too fancy for me.

“This one?”

“Woah Ducky, you are not going outside in that. The boys would eat you alive!”

“Is that such a bad thing?” I joked.

“I don’t like it.” Bertie declared.

“Wasn’t asking you, but ok.”

I tried on the last dress, I knew there was thousands more, but I didn’t really feel like staying any longer. If I hated this dress, I’d hate all of them. Maybe I shouldn’t even go to prom. I had to admit this one had potential.

“I’m warning you, if we hate this dress I’m cancelling this little makeshift family outing bullshit.” I called through the door.

“Such a drama queen.” Bertie called back.

“I’d prefer king actually.”

I stepped out and their eyes widened.

“What? Do you hate it?”

“Ducky you look-“ Bertie started.

“Amazing!” Eren finished.

When did they start doing that? Finishing each other’s sentences. They loved the dress but it didn’t feel right. Sure my body looked good in it, it hugged me in all the right places, and the colour was stunning. But it didn’t feel like me.

“Ugh, I’m gonna go look at some shoes real quick, be right back.”

As I was walking through the store in the dress, I got many stares and approving glances. But I hated the attention. I hated this whole thing. I wasn’t looking where I was going until I hit something. Or more honestly, someone. I watched in slow motioned as they fell backwards but I quickly reach out to grab them. I locked eyes with them as they stared up at me.

“Hi” she said.

“Are- are you ok?” I asked frantically.

Having such a beautiful girl in my arms made me nervous. And they way she smiled up at me made my heart flutter.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah…”

I set her up, steading on her feet. I went to walk away and run back to Eren but her voice stopped me.

“Can I at least get the name of the person who swept me off my feet?”

I turned around stunned, she was damn smooth with her flirting.

“Ducky.” I held out my hand.

“Buni” she responded.

Instead of shaking my hand, she grasped it and gave it a light kiss.

“I don’t mean to pry, but you look uncomfortable in that dress.”

I shrugged.

“Prom.”

Her eyes lit up. Before I could ask her what she was doing, she was dragging me around the store. She had a whole assortment of things in her hands. She brought me back over to the dressing rooms. I didn’t see Eren and Bertie and I assumed they were wandering around in a different part of the store.

“Here put these on.” She handed them to me.

“What do you work here or something?”

“No.” She chuckled, her laugh was insanely cute. “But I do consider myself quite fashionable. Just trust me, you’re gonna look great.”

She shoved me into the dressing room and I just stood there in shock for a moment. But I did as she asked. I did my best to make sense of the random articles of clothing she gave me. I didn’t even bother to look at myself in the mirror and just stepped out this time. Her eyes lit up once more.

“Damn I work wonders!” She exclaimed.

It was my turn to laugh. But that’s when I heard two familiar voices.

“Ducky?” Eren asked.

“Damn, you clean up nice when you’re not slouching like an idiot.” Bert half complimented.

I finally looked at the big mirror in the centre of the lounge to figure out why everyone was so adorn by this outfit. My jaw dropped. I wasn’t even sure this was me anymore.

“Wow, I look-“

“Beautiful” Buni finshed for me.

My eyes widened. She just finished my sentence, the way Bertie and Eren had been doing all day.

“It’s a shame I have no one to show this off too.” I frowned.

“You don’t have a date?” She seemed shocked.

“This” I gestured. “Isn’t really dating material.”

She approached me, coming up behind me and turning my head to look at the mirror.

“From where I’m standing, you seem to be the most expensive looking thing in this whole shop.”

Shit, I didn’t even think about how much this outfit cost. My sudden panic was the only thing keeping me from blushing.

“Eren we can’t afford this outfit. I knew coming here was stupid. Prom is stupid.” I said.

I shrugged Buni off, but was surprised when I missed her warmth.

“I’m gonna get changed, thank you so much for your help Buni. I’ll see you around.”

The drove home was even more quiet then the drive there. Everything felt awkward, I felt awkward. I hated it. But of course Bertie had to break the silence.

“Who was that? Back at the store?”

“Which one?”

“Frankly I don’t care about the one you attacked, bitch looked like she deserved it. I’m more interested in the girl who was eyeing you like a piece of meat.”

I wanted to punch that stupid grin of his face.

“I don’t know, she’s nobody.” I lied.

A week had past since that day, and I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Prom was nearing and I didn’t want to go. It wouldn’t be the same if I couldn’t go with Cotton. When I got home Eren and Bertie were out, typical. But what I wasn’t expecting was what I saw when I opened the door. There was a black back on my bed.

Now I’m my line of work, that usually meant nothing good. So I approached it with caution. But I was stunned when I opened it. It was the outfit from the store. And on top of it laid a note.

“Someone likes you deserves the world, but I figured it start with this. Enjoy your prom little Dove - Buni <3”

I smiled. I was so happy, didn’t even dawn on me that she shouldn’t know my address. And I didn’t even notice her lingering outside my window to watch my reaction. Buni seemed perfect… to perfect. Maybe I’d be a fool to trust her, but hearts weren’t know for their logic and reasoning.

An: sorry this took so long, I kept getting interrupted. But I really hope you like it!

[zaikaglow]

Boundaries

Pairing: Reiner x Reader, Bertholdt x reader

Summary: You Reiner and Bertholdt have been friends forever but recently you've entered a relationship with Reiner. Poor Bertholdt has been a love sick puppy but Reiner’s such a good friend that he doesn’t mind sharing! As long as Berty can stick to a few boundaries

Content Warnings: Male maturation, Oral-domming, overstimulation

The three of you had always been the best of friends. You, Reiner, and Bertholdt childhood friends from the same neighborhood who’d ride bikes and go adventuring through the woods. Best of friends even through highschool and even into college where you had all managed to go to the same place! You loved both those boys of course you did, you went to all their games and when Bertholdt’s basketball game or Reiner’s football game would come to an end you’d always be there to run out and interpret them before the locker room to give them a big hug not minding how sweaty and gross they were.

 The three of you were all happy with your little found family until sophomore year of college things began to change. It was at a house party the three of you had gone to together where Bertl had gone to get your purse for you when Reiner had finally made his move. Huddled in the corner by the fridge Reiner had placed his big palm against your cheek, leaned in and told you that he had liked you as more than friends for a long time and leaned in for a kiss that you reciprocated. Unbeknownst to the both of you Bertl was watching from across the room feeling his heart shatter into pieces watching Reiner kiss the girl he was in love with.

The three of you remained friends but things were much harder on Bertl than you and Reiner knew. He would never want to ruin his friends happiness but it felt like his heart was frequently being shattered over and over again. Like when Reiner’s games would finish and he’d watch you run out to give him a hug and Reiner would pick you up, swing you around and give you a deep kiss. You’d still go and hug Bertholdt after his games but he would just wrap both arms around you and place his chin on top of your head swinging softly wishing he would be able to pick you up and give you a kiss as you’d wrap your legs around his waist. But all he could do was inhale the scent from the top of your head and kick himself for not confessing before Reiner.

Sitting on the couch of Reiner and Bert’s shared apartment, Reiner was rubbing your shoulders in an attempt to make up for how hard he had pushed you at the gym this morning when Reiner had said “You know Bertl’s in love with you”. you sighed and looked down at your hands, this line of thought always bringing a twinge of guilt to your heart. You had feelings for Bert before the two of you had gotten together but Reiner had made the first move and you couldn't wait forever for Bert to get his nerves up. “I had a feeling that was the case” you utter “well if you might be open to it I wouldn’t mind you throwing him a bone” Reiner says “You mean you wouldn't mind him throwing me a bone?” you say smirking. “Ha ha you're a very funny kitten, I mean I have a few boundaries but I think it be something that I'd be into seeing. It’s not like I’ve never thought about doing something to him myself”.

It was Friday night, a time that was supposed to be movie night for the three of you but lately Bert had been sneaking off to his room to avoid them. Unable to keep taking in the sight of you wrapped in Reiner’s arms, nose nuzzling his neck while Bert was lucky if you rested your feet in his lap. Well tonight Bert figured he’d have time to stop by the fridge and grab some water before sneaking off to his room to avoid movie night but when he turned around he saw you with one hand against the wall and the other against the counter trapping him in the kitchen with no line of escape. “You’ve been avoiding me Bertl” You were wearing an oversized sweatshirt and some short sleep shorts along with some knee high socks. “You know it’s really been hurting my feelings” you say tilting your head down, Bert’s eyes widen a look of heartbreak crossing his face “I didn't mean to i'm really really sorry I-I can’t e-explain right now but-t I-im really sorry y/n” dropping your grip on the counter your make your way to the scared lanky boy placing your hands on on his chest moving up till you reach the collar of his basketball club jacket and pull him down to your eye level “make it up to me then?” your lips make contact with his and you can feel his bottom lip tremble between yours before he gently pushes you off before stumbling away back hitting the fridge and sinking down before placing his head in his hands “y/n” he groans “you don't even know how much I want that but Reiner’s my friend”. Then there's a laugh as Reiner comes out from his bedroom taking a seat on the couch “You have no idea how much I appreciate that Bert, but really it's okay. You and me just have to go over some ground rules first but I really don't mind”

The three of you are sitting on the couch, the two of them in their boxers and you now only in a pair of lace panties and knee highs. Reiner has his arm around Bert’s shoulder sitting next to him while you're on the ground kneeling between Bert’s knee’s. Both hand’s placed on Bert’s knees you slowly start to slide them up until they reach the waistband of his boxers pulling out his cock. It’s thick and long, slightly darker than the rest of skin, the fact that he’s uncircumcised makes the head of his cock already already glissaning. You start by where his dick meets his pelvis starting to kiss up it almost reaching the head when he places his hands on the top of your head “umm I think maybe you should’t do that because I’ll cum”  he looks embarrassed face starting to turn red “but uh can I. uh can I do something for you”? Reiner grabs you under the armpits picking you up to move you on the couch while Bertl exchanges places with you now getting on his knees. You lift your hips up sliding off your panties, Reiner taking them from you. You bring one leg up and hook a finger under your sock ready to take it off when Bert stutters out “A-actully c-can you k-keep those on” he says red flush spreading from his cheeks to his ears and chest. “Anything for you Berty” you say, spreading your legs placing your knees over his shoulders. His lids are heavy with lust as he moves his mouth to make contact with your warm wet core. You throw your head back as he starts to kiss and suck on your swollen nub, Reiner has a hand on the back of your neck with one hand the other is jerking himself off with the panties you removed, eyes trained on how Bertholdt’s tongue is moving against you. Your hands go to grip Bert’s thick black hair as you feel yourself coming undone at the way his tongue circles around your clit, that coil winding tighter and tighter in your core until it snaps. And when it does you yank him by his hair up to meet your lips, his lips and cheeks are wet with your release “Okay now fuck me Berty” his eye’s go wide and he slips his boxers off. You move towards the intersection of the couch laying down, placing one foot against the floor and propping the other up on the back of the couch. Bert climbs up to meet you and you can feel the weight of his thick cock on your tummy and you can feel the wet spot forming from his leaking head. He takes a look back at Reiner who’s starting to clean himself up with the same pair of panties he had been jerking himself off with “It’s okay Berty just remember what I told you” Bert nods at him before turning back to you. He kisses you as he takes his cock in his hand and lines it up with your entrance. When he slides in you gasp. It must be because he’s not circumcised like Reiner but the sensation is overwhelmingly smooth. It’s so warm and slick and feels so good when his wet head slides against your g-spot. You almost feel a little guilty at how much your enjoying the sensation. When you and Reiner do things bareback sometimes it could hurt from how dry his dick was compared to how slick you were, but things with Bert? They were just oh so smooth and oh so moan inducing. Your arms wrap around his neck holding him close and he’s kissing your neck when you feel yourself starting to reach your second orgasm “oh god oh okay I think i'm going to cum” and at the mention of your impending orgasm Bert can’t help but feel like he’s about to join you hips starting to stutter at every thrust. Reiner sits up a little “Bert? Remember what we talked about?” you can hear the annoyance in his voice but you just feel so good that you just can't seem to stop holding onto bertl and he cant stop his thrusting. He places a sloppy kiss on your cheek as he cums and you can feel the warmth pouring into you. Suddenly you feel him slide out of you and you notice Reiner is holding him by the hair one of his hands wrapped around Bert’s jaw “what did I tell you Bert”? The dark hair boy is panting and looks afraid as he says “Not to cum in her”

“And what did you just do”

“Finish inside her”

“Yeah you did and now you’re going to clean up the mess you made”. Reiner take’s Bertholdt’s hair and drags his face down to your leaking cunt. His tongue makes contact with your swollen hole and your legs start to shake at the overstimulation. “That’s right. You’re going to get her nice and cleaned up for me and then if you want the chance to as so much see her pretty tits again you're going to clean up after me to, you got that” Bert can only nod in agreement as he tries not to focus on the fact that he’s scraping out his own cum with his tongue from your cunt. Reiner pushes Bert out of the way, the poor dark haired boy catching himself on his elbows before his back hits the floor as Reiner pulls you up and onto his cock. “Mmm it's too much babe”. And it is you've already cum twice and now your big rough boyfriend is forcing you to ride his massive cock. “Come on kitten you can handle it” he says before his lips go to meet your tit. He’s licking up and down on your right nipple, his big calloused palm squeezing your left. When he hears you start to whimper again he moves his hands to your hips and start to move you up and down like his little fuck toy untill you feel his cock twitch inside you spilling his seed inside you and starts dripping down your thighs. Reiner breathes a sigh of relief before picking you up off his cock and gently placing you back into a sitting position on the couch. His hand gently picks up under your knees spreading your legs apart but you're too overstimulated to even process what's happening, head just lolling back against the couch.

“Now we've been friends for a long time Bert so Im willing to forgive, I might even let you fuck her again. But first your going to clean up the mess I just made”

[rhenuvee]

“Your Tip, Love.” (Fred Weasley x reader)

A/N: Can students get part-time jobs...? Idk but just go with it dude.

Taglist: @obsessedwithrandomthings​

-----------------------------------------------

Why did your mom tell you to get a job? You weren’t poor, nor was this to look good or have work experience. She just hated when you had nothing to do at Hogwarts. It didn’t have to be a good job, but your mom knew that if you didn’t have anything to do you’d die of boredom.

And that’s why you’ve been working at Honeydukes starting this year. On the contrary, standing in the middle of the shop and offering samples of candies seemed to lose your interest very quickly throughout the weeks. At least you got discounts on the candies. 

“(Y/n)! Could you get me a Bertie Bott’s every flavour beans- pretty please?” 

“No!”

Unfortunately, it was highly embarrassing when your friends burst into the shop and demanded free candies from you. Even worse if you see a classmate or someone you worked on an assignment with. Every Saturday, it was a ritual of you crossing your fingers and praying to every great wizard you didn’t see a familiar face and make it awkward.

This Saturday, it seemed to be going fairly well. The customers who were willing to try a sample were very nice, and no one you knew came in. Ahh, today was going to be-

“George hurry up!” 

You froze. You recognized that voice- you definitely spoke too soon. 

Fred Weasley, you definitely knew him, who wouldn’t? Famous prankster along with George and Lee. One of Gryffindor’s star beaters. And you for sure wouldn’t forget him after that one time you were paired with him to do that assignment in potions. 

You remember awkwardly walking to the table for you to work together. You felt sweaty- did you stand too far or too close to him? He did help you which was the opposite of his usual antics. Except you noticed from the corner of your eyes that he was grinning the whole time... why was this important?

You did not realize until your friend flat out told you- they thought you liked him, and that he liked you. They somehow noticed how smiley he was around you- which you did have to admit was out of place because y’all were in potions! And of course they saw your awkward and knew how clammy your hands would get when you were nervous. It was a day of relentless teasing.

But back to a present time problem- Fred, George and Lee had just walked into the store. They were bound to see you, you were practically a sitting duck. 

Your panic mode gave you three options:

Fight - “Hi Fred!” but who were you kidding, your confidence was level 0. 

Flight - Run away and have Mr. and Mrs. Flume scold you? Plus, wouldn’t that make you a tad dramatic?

Freeze - And then you could-

“Are those chocolate frogs?” asked Lee Jordan. You were snapped out of your thoughts and your face started to get hot instantly.

“Um, yeah would you like one?” you said shyly stretching out the tray of sweets.

“Free samples? Wicked.” The boys each took one chocolate frog from the tray and started to browse around the shop for any other sweets that interested them. 

You weren’t able to see Fred’s reaction to seeing you, but knowing that he didn’t say anything made you guess that he didn’t recognize you, or something along those line. You turned your head in the boys’ direction. They were distracted by the shelves of candies and were not making things awkward with you.

You sighed a breath of relief and checked the watch on your left wrist. Your shift was almost done, and you could finally return to your dorm and flop on the bed. 

The three boys paid for their treats and left the store. You took one last glance at them as they exited and then back to your watch.

“Hey (y/n).” You lifted your head to come to sight of Fred, who was in the middle of holding the door slightly open for himself.

“It was nice seeing you.” he said with a wink. With that he left, and you seemed to still be initiating the third panic mode option with your jaw dropped. Did Fred Weasley just say it was nice to see you?! 

The moment Mr. Flume bid you goodbye for the week, you bolted back to the castle immediately. 

---

It was another Saturday at Honeydukes. Fred had not said anything to you about last week, and you were grateful. Little did you know, that older Weasley twin had a plan.

“(Y/n)!” shouted your friend Maya. 

“Oh hi Maya!” you said surprised that she came to Honeydukes.

“Just wanted to visit, wouldn’t want you to be lonely.” she joked. You rolled your eyes playfully. You couldn’t deny it though, you did enjoy when your friends made a bit of time to be with you at your shift.

You were talking for a bit, until you saw who you did and did not want to see. You watched with wide eyes as Harry, Ron, Hermione and the twins entered the store. 

“Hey isn’t that Fred Weasley? The guy you get all nervous around?” she whispered in your ear. 

“Maya!” you scolded attempting to bump into her with your tray of sweets. 

“Oh I see how it is...” she winked in amusement of the scowl on your face. She then went to the shelves in the back.

“Maya where are you going?” you asked almost frantically.

“Hm? Oh nothing, these chocolates look really interesting...” she said clearly putting on an act to seem busy. You were definitely going to get her back for that.

“Are those sugar quills free samples?” asked a voice which made you turn your head back to the front. You came to face Ron Weasley, who you knew as the twins’ younger brother. 

“Yeah, feel free to take one.” You tried to sound less shaky, you hoped it worked. Ron’s eyes widened and started taking a few quills. 

“Ronald!” scolded Hermione hitting his arm. Ron was taken aback. “She said take one, not an all you can eat buffet!” 

“Alright I’m sorry!” Ron said slightly embarrassed.

“It’s okay, really!” you said trying to reassure them, you didn’t want to make it more weird. Hermione shook her head at him as Harry and the twins were snickering. They all parted ways within the store, except Fred didn’t budge.

“Sorry about my brother.” he said sheepishly.

“It’s fine, it’s no big deal anyway.” you said. Your heart was pounding, the fact that you uttered a full sentence to Fred was an accomplishment.

“What’s a girl like you doing, working at Honeydukes?” Fred asked while picking up one of your sugar quills. 

“Oh, my mom doesn’t like when I don’t have anything to do. I mean it’s fine really, I get a discount on candy.” you explained. “W-what about you?”

“Me? Well rumour has it that there’s a really cute girl who works at Honeydukes who displays the sweets every Saturday.” he said smirking. Your face went beet red- he was talking about you?!

“R-really...?” you asked attempting to sound oblivious.

“Yes, and she’s especially cute when she gets all quiet around me.” He was making you more embarrassed than intended. Way for him to call you out sis. You were about to say something, but the trio and George finished paying for their candies and were heading out.

“Fred, stop flirting, let’s go!” called George holding the door open for him. Your brain was going haywire- Fred Weasley flirting with you?? Fred chuckled.

“Be patient you prat.” George rolled his eyes in return. You watched as Fred fished in his pockets for coins and placed them on your display tray.

“Your tip, love.” he said. He bent down to your height and kissed your cheek. You were left with the feeling of his soft lips on your face. You couldn’t utter a single word out. Fred waved at your paralyzed state and left with George shaking his head and laughing at his twin’s romantic gesture. 

“Oh my god...” said a voice behind you. You turned your head slowly and saw Maya.

“Maya! What the fu-”

“Did Fred just kiss you?!” she squealed. She looked more excited than you.

“I-” you couldn’t even English at this point. You knew she was going to tease you for this big time, so you had to change the subject. “Maya, did you really take ten minutes to admire those chocolates in the back?”

“Yes.”

---

Your shift was almost done for today, however your heart was fluttering the whole time thinking of Fred. Oh god, how were you supposed to face him now?

Suddenly you heard a thump coming from the cellar of the store. You didn’t go down there often, so you felt a little uneasy when you walked in slowly to check.

“Mr. Flume? Mrs. Flume?” you called out quietly. No answer. You looked left and right, there was nobody you could see. 

Your whole body did a small jump as you saw a tile on the floor move. The tile kept moving until you saw it lift and move to the side. You were shocked to see Fred emerge.

“Oh hello love.” he said casually.

“Fred! What are you doing?!” you whisper-yelled as you went to help him get out. As soon as he stepped out, he dusted off his clothes.

“I missed you.” he said a smirk playing on his lips. Fred making you flustered twice in one shift? Your heart couldn’t take it.

“S-stop playing with me, why did you- no, how did you come here?! What was that?!” you asked pushing him up the stairs back to the shop. He purposely resisted a little to make your life harder. As soon as you both reached the top of the stairs, he leaned against wall.

“Didn’t know you spoke that much, (y/n).” he teased. You groaned.

“Fred, I already saw you this morning, why are you-”

“Go on a date with me.” You backed into the doorway from hearing what he had just asked you. You noticed that there wasn’t a playful grin on his face, but instead looked almost worried. 

“Okay.” you said smiling.

“Okay?” he asked repeating your reply. You realized how short and blunt your answer seemed. No wonder you’ve been single all this time.

“I-I mean yes! I’d love to go on a date with you.” you said shyly. He walked over to your small form and lightly pinned you against the wall.

“Can I kiss you then?” he asked brushing your jawline with this thumb. You managed to nod in response. With that, he closed the remaining gap between you and locked his lips with yours.

The kiss made you dizzier ten times more than the simple peck from hours ago. And bloody hell was he a good kisser. Your arms went up to link around his neck, bringing him closer and deepening the kiss.

“Um (y/n), it’s the end of your shift you and your boyfriend can leave now...”

You both broke off immediately in embarrassment as you recognized the voice as Mrs. Flume. She was standing awkwardly behind the cashier. Oh god, you were going to get fired for sure.

“...I told him to use the front door but he just had to pull a Santa Clause-“ The three of you turned your heads to the door to see Lee and George mid sentence stopping to see you and Fred with your hands on each other and Mrs. Flume catching you in the act.

“Oh my- Mrs. Flume we’re so sorry!” said George pretending to be scared and apologizing a million times.

“Yes yes it will never happen again!” shouted Lee being just as dramatic.

“You know how couples get..” said George pushing you and Fred out the door quickly.

“U-uhm I’m so sorry Mrs. Flume, S-see you next week!” you stuttered out without even looking her in the eye. As you stopped outside you panted as Fred was giggling the entire time.

“Why are you laughing? Fred!” you said playfully slapping him on the arm as he continued laughing.

“Oh Merlin, (y/n) you don’t know how funny that was- your reaction was adorable!”

“You should be glad, we saved both your arses.” Said Lee proudly with George nodding along.

“Now you can finally go on your date!” Said George cheerfully. “But if I see you both snogging when you get back I won’t be there to save either of you again.”

You blushed at the thought of you and Fred snogging again. Fred scoffed and waved them off. He took your hand in his as you started to walk on your date.

“By the way, I don’t care what George says. There will be snogging, a hundred percent.”

—————————————————

Please message me if you’d like to be a part of my tag list. I write for 3 fandoms so specify which one!

[commander-coppercogg]

Commander’s Log: Cantha, part 4

Alright time for some story stuff! I was kind of doing one of these per story step but I think I got out of sync. Now I’m just ending these where it makes sense to my brain.

We grabbed a raptor taxi to the instance entrance and can I just say that I love the taxis so much! There’s such a fun way to move quickly but unlike waypoints I still get time to enjoy the scenery. And it give me time to like slow down and mentally process and take my time thinking about stuff. Anyway

Ah Gorrick’s special interest! Yes I will happily wait for you to make sure we don’t cause another extinction even- goddamn it Jory get back here!

God they really write him so well him snapping at Jory and then like consciously taking a moment to tone shift. I feel that.

Aw I didn’t have time to find the thing before Jory pointed it out.

Oh Gorrick’s a holosmith! I wouldn’t have guessed since he doesn’t use the sword and beyond that I’m not too familiar with it (despite being an engie main lol) but cool yes king tell me more about hard light

HmMmmmmm this is a trap

Ok I really like Ivan also at first I thought he was talking on comms with someone but it seems he was just talking to himself.

Ok big actually boss fight time!

Oh she is drunk as a skunk

Holy shit she’s a revenant!!! Oh my goooood this is so cool!

SXARLETT FUCKING BRIAR????????!!!!!

Ok ok ok so I honestly don’t have any strong feelings about season 1 or scarlet but oh my gosh that was the coolest boss fight I’ve done in forever! The music the pacing holy shit. And like it felt the way that first instance did. Fun and satisfying and it took a minute to get but then I got it and I didn’t feel frustrated I could just enjoy myself. The challenge level of this expansion has been so stable it’s really nice

Oh so we don’t kill Mai. Im honestly not surprised it’d be a little weird to bring her back just to get rid of her again. But I am bit surprised that this seems to be a recurring theme. For multiple of the events we ran last night, we fought people until they surrendered not died. I dunno that’s just a really interest shift I think

Also I really like that Kas is being the diplomat not just between Dragons Watch and the world but also within Dragons Watch

Lol Ivan thanks for breaking the tension

Hell yeah! Kaineng time!

Or not lol.

Oh my god they are LITerally sending me to the goddamn DMV!!!!! Anet you tops tier comedians how dare you lol

Also I’ve noticed that the Commander (or at least the male asura voice) has sounded unsure/caught off guard a fair bit. Like when Kas called us, Bertie went “oh Um uh sure yeah ok” and it’s very different from the usual tone of “I’ve got this”. I think it just goes to show that the Commander really only kind of knows how to be the Commander and if you take them out of that situation and put them in a different one they kinda don’t know what to do? Yeah

I’ve never had so much fun at the DMV in my LIFE. That was so funny. Listen Bertie absolutely brings a romance novel with him while he waits. I can’t believe they made me do paper work. I’m notoriously bad at paperwork and bureaucracy so This was really funny.

Bertie: wow and I thought Rata Sum had a lot of regulations.

Syrryl: oh you don’t know the half of it

Doing an event to fill up the bar and the woman were escorting has massive butch lesbian vibes truly excellent

Shit I just realized time is passing? Like the holo news is updating stories. Kas had the time to go and do an interview oh this is kind of jarring I’m so used to us being the one to move things along

That combined with the fact that like there’s not the tension and immediate goals of season 4 and icebrood saga really makes it feel like the Commander isn’t in charge it’s very different I’m interested to see where this goes. Cause like yknow end of dragons. What becomes of the Commander when their biggest live goal is over? I’m getting ahead of myself….

Boat time! For some reason I cannot get the skiff to drop anchor correctly but that’s ok whenever we have a multi person vehicle my bf always drives. He’s the can drive gay of this household

Don’t have the boat five minutes and I’m already on the Uber grind lol

Oh my god everyone else is already there what the hell?

I like Navan. She’s very calming.

To new Kaineng!!

[wellhalesbells]

✨✨ TOP FIVES FOR 2020 ✨✨

2020 was, i think we can all agree, a massively chaotic year but i have never consumed as much media before in my life, so i thought others might benefit from my slothery uh, connoisseur.... ship?  yes, that.  below are the books, comics, shows, and movies that got me through!

B O O K S .

the starless sea, by erin morgenstern - i loooove this book because it loves me back.  it says: ‘oh, you’re a reader, well i have just the thing for you.’  it luxuriates in language and story and riddles and fairy tales and it feels like an entire library in a single tome.

they never learn, by layne fargo - oh fuuuuuck, this was satisfying.  i thought it might feel a little exploitative as it is very aware of the zeitgeist and likely would not exist without the #metoo movement but it never ever did.  this was a fucking ROMP, period.  reading about a woman getting away with murdering skeezy guy after rapey guy after shitty human just made me happier and happier.

moonflower murders, by anthony horowitz - this is the second in the susan ryeland series (and the first was hardcore good fun too) and really feels very classic mystery with the artful twist of catering to the literary community.  mainly because: susan isn’t a detective, she’s an editor and she gets drafted in this time because the clue to what happened to a missing woman is in a book she edited, if she can find it.  both of the books in this series have such an excellent coming together moment that is rare af to find.

the invisible life of addie larue, by v.e. schwab - the writing in this is just so good.  it has that feel to me where i just want to drop the book and open up my own page and let my fingers fly.  it’s that inspiring kind of writing that reminds you of all the things language can do.

crown of feathers/heart of flames, by nicki pau preto - aaahhh, this series is SO FREAKING GOOD!  why is there not more of a fandom for it, why???? it is so many of my favorite tropes all resting perfectly together to the point where you almost forget they’re tropes because they just so naturally evolved there.  ugh, it’s just.... it’s so heart-bursty good.

.... number 5, part 2?  raybearer, by jordan ifueko - this was just so original and i was invested af.  like, what a brilliant idea though and an even better execution??  i loved every character and am so looking forward to the next in the series so i can get to know them even better!!

honorable mentions (sh*t i still liked a whole heckuva lot): you/hidden bodies, by caroline kepnes // writers & lovers, by lily king // i’ll be gone in the dark, by michelle mcnamara // the faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home, by joseph fink & jeffrey cranor // girl, serpent, thorn, by melissa bashardoust // a little life, by hanya yanagihara // the guinevere deception, by kiersten white // obsidio (and the entire illuminae series), by amie kaufman & jay kristoff // the bone houses, by emily lloyd-jones // house of salt and sorrows, by erin a. craig // we hunt the flame, by hafsah faizal // savage legion, by matt wallace // blacktop wasteland, by s.a. cosby // crier’s war, by nina varela // the empress of salt and fortune/when the tiger came down the mountain, by nghi vo // upright women wanted, by sarah gailey // the monster of elendhaven, by jennifer giesbrecht // a deadly education, by naomi novik // you let me in, by camilla bruce // when you ask me where i’m going, by jasmin kaur // the lights go out in lychford/last stand in lychford (and the entire lychford series), by paul cornell // the devil and the dark water, by stuart turton // serpent & dove, by shelby mahurin // one by one, by ruth ware // ruthless gods (this was SUCH an upshot from the first book - it’s worth sticking with if you’re on the fence), by emily a. duncan // cemetery boys, by aiden thomas // the inheritance games, by jennifer lynn barnes // the fortunate ones (2021 release), by ed tarkington

C O M I C S .

cosmoknights, by hannah templer - the art was gorgeous, the gayness was glorious, and just.... hot HOOOOOOOOT lady knights in space?!  a princess winning her own hand?  find something not to love in there, i dare you.

don’t go without me, by rosemary valero-o’connell - wow. wow wow wow wow wow.  the writing was stunning, so lyrical and atmospheric and deep, and rosemary has to be one of my favorite artists but even that managed to come as a beautiful surprise because it was just so freaking bold.

through the woods, by emily carroll - i loooove emily carroll, the convergence of spine-tingling horror and art that feeds into it, that is both visually and aesthetically pleasing, is hard to beat!  p.s. i also read beneath the dead oak tree from her this year and it was also a BANGER.

the impending blindness of billie scott, by zoe thorogood - zoe is someone that i just want to follow.  she’s just starting and i want to be there for every single step.  i love her art style and her ability to tell a story with it.

above the clouds, by melissa pagluica - this was so unique, and such a baller concept, as nearly half the entire book is conveyed only through the art and yet you’re never once lost, never once confused as to what any character is thinking or feeling.  it’s a story within a story and only one of those gets words though they both are chock full of emotion!

um.... number 5, part 2? crowded, by christopher sebela - everything about this series is fun af.  crowd-funded assassination and a hirable bodyguard who’s rated like an uber driver???  and the chemistry between the two mains is so great and gay!!

honorable mentions: monster and the beast, by renji // long exposure, by kam ‘mars’ heyward // fence, by c.s. pacat // invisible kingdom, by g. willow wilson // ms. marvel, by g. willow wilson // heathen, by natasha alterici // not drunk enough, by tess stone // giant days, by john allison // die, by kieron gillen // be prepared, by vera brosgol // ascender (sequel to descender, which is also great), by jeff lemire // the unbeatable squirrel girl, by ryan north // bang! bang! boom!, by melanie schoen // gideon falls, by jeff lemire // life of melody, by mari costa // cry wolf girl, by ariel slamet ries // the tea dragon society, by katie o’neill // ptsd, by guillaume singelin // heartstopper, by alice oseman // solutions and other problems, by allie brosh // finding home, by hari conner // the magic fish, by trung le nguyen // something is killing the children, by james tynion iv // the weight of them, by noelle stevenson // spill zone, by scott westerfeld // skyward, by joe henderson // miles morales, by saladin ahmed

F I L M S.

parasite, dir. bong joon ho - oh it was satisfying, oh it was suspenseful, oh i had to watch some of it through my fingers but i loooooooved it.  such a good story and so well made.

knives out, dir. rian johnson - okay, everything about this movie was amazing.  every single character was fun as hell and i could’ve watched an entire movie about each of them.  what a great fucking mystery!

blindspotting, dir. carlos lopez estrada -  this made my heart hurt so damn much.  what glorious writing, acting, and story!

portrait of a lady on fire, dir. celine sciamma - gooooorgeous cinematography, amazing chemistry, and such a soft, atmospheric film.

the farewell, dir. lulu wang - i cried and my heart felt so full and i love it so so much.

um.... number 5, part 2? someone great, dir. jennifer kaytin robinson - no part of me expected to love a netflix movie this much but it’s a love story that doesn’t get told that often??  the end of a relationship and the true love of friendship and i love these girls and i love jenny and nate’s broken relationship.

honorable mentions: eighth grade, dir. bo burnham // booksmart, dir. olivia wilde // midsommar, dir. ari aster // the curse of la llorona, dir. michael chaves // the secret life of pets 2, dirs. chris renaud & jonathan del val // jojo rabbit, dir. taika waititi // the invisible man, dir. leigh whannell // the favourite, dir. yorgos lanthimos // can you ever forgive me?, dir. marielle heller // troop zero, dirs. bert & bertie // ready or not, dirs. matt bettinelli-olpin & tyler gillett // brave, dirs. mark andrews & brenda chapman & steve purcell // the half of it, dir. alice wu // palm springs, dir. max barbakow // doctor sleep, dir. mike flanaghan // uncut gems, dirs. benny sadfie & josh sadfie // birds of prey, dir. cathy van // bloodshot, dir. dave wilson // the old guard, dir. gina prince-bythewood // enola holmes, dir. harry bradbeer // hocus pocus, dir. kenny ortega // always be my maybe, dir. nahnatchka khan // finding dory, dirs. andrew stanton & angus maclane // die hard, dir. john mctiernan

S H O W S .

black sails (2014) - this show, this shooooooooow.  i cannot, it just makes me want to cry with how good it is.  the characters, the EMOTIONS, the story, the plaaaaaan.  like, the creators clearly had a plan for every single step of this show and it was a gOOD, GOOD PLAN.

the untamed (2019) - truly, cheesy good fun with one of the best gay romances ever.  i love these characters and their relationships to each other and the way it glories in its own ridiculousness.

the righteous gemstones (2019) - one of the things that bothered me about my next choice (the ratio of female to male nudity) was so much more realistic in this one (i mean, we’ve all gotten five thousand dick pics and i know like three people?  so the fact that there is so rarely male nudity in shows when there are tits everywhere..... no, how does that even make a tiny bit of sense?).  this show was such great, wonderful, awful fun.  they’re not great people and the show is under no delusion about that and it’s GLORIOUS!

the witcher (2019) - this was just hella fun, i loved the characters and the fantasy elements.  i’m excited for the next season, it’s just entertaining swashbuckling through and through!

fargo (2014) - all of this was really very enjoyable with the through line being somebody fucks shit up and gets involved in something they really shouldn’t be involved in that’s going to swallow them whole.  season one and season three were my stand-out favorites but they were all so violent, clever, and vicious!

um.... number 5, part 2? central park (2020) - um..... so many of the hamilton actors in a muscial cartoon drawn and written by the bob’s burgers team? WHAT ABOUT THAT DOESN’T SOUND AMAZING?!  it was such a joy to hear daveed diggs and leslie odom jr.’s voices again!!

honorable mentions: schitt’s creek // the mandalorian // mr. robot // broadchurch // mindhunter // jack ryan // the good place // the end of the f***ing world // big little lies // elite // kidding // servant // letterkenny // curb your enthusiasm // i am not okay with this // ozark // buzzfeed unsolved: true crime/supernatural // you // runaways // dear white people // dickinson // brooklyn nine-nine // will & grace // 9-1-1 // dead to me // solar opposites // never have i ever // killing eve // what we do in the shadows // grace and frankie // avenue 5 // roswell, new mexico // the bold type // evil // tuca & bertie // impulse // the umbrella academy // watchmen // infinity train // corporate // search party // on becoming a god in central florida // a.p. bio // criminal: uk // the morning show // mythic quest // last week tonight // prodigal son // the great

[glenncoco4]

You Can Count On Me

A/N: Chapter 4

••••

4 months later...

Hetty walks into the bullpen, interrupting Kensi and Sam’s conversation, and quickly notices one looking a little worse for wear. “Ms. Blye. Mr. Hanna. Oversleep again, did you?”

Kensi tries to bite back a smile as the ex-SEAL gets called out because of his partner’s inability to show some decorum when it comes to being a house guest.  

The OSP Manager begins to pace back and forth between the desks before abruptly stopping. “Early this morning, I got a call from the LAPD. They’ve lost contact with Detective Deeks. He’s been on an extended undercover assignment since he left us.”

Callen walks up to his desk just in time to hear his boss’ announcement. “How long has he been out of contact?”

“Yesterday afternoon.” The small woman quickly answers. 

“It’s kind of soon to be hitting the panic button, isn’t it?” Sam states, wondering why LAPD is so quickly to sound the alarm on a detective that’s undercover. 

Hetty nods in understanding as she turns to the tech operator. “Mr. Beale.” 

The three agents turn towards the screen being met with an image of a charred car. All knowing that it’d be almost impossible to survive something like that. “14 hours ago, a bomb detonated in this car in South Central. Two occupants, both killed.”

“Emilio Ortega and his bodyguard, Luis Fellano.” Eric states, sending a wave of relief through the junior agent’s body. 

Hetty looks to Kensi,  knowing that this situation will be affecting her more than the others. “They were both targets of Detective Deeks’ undercover assignment.” As soon as she locks eyes with the brunette, Hetty watches the sinking feeling cross her features. 

As dread fills her heart, Kensi’s mind can’t help but go back to the first time she feared for her best friend’s life.

Her eyes go wide in terror as her father turns down the street and the raging inferno spews from Marty and Bertie’s new apartment.“Daddy!” 

Quickly pulling up to the building and slamming on the breaks, Don and Kensi both jump out of the truck. The older man turns to his little girl. “Baby girl, I need you to go next door and call 911.”

“But, dad.”

“Do it!” 

Before she can respond again, she watches her father run towards the front door, kicking it in just a gulf of flames come out. Once clear, he covers his nose and rushes into the apartment. 

The 9 year old feels as if time is slowly passing by, it feels like hours before she’s able to pull herself together and start towards the neighbor’s house, doing what her father told her. She’s just about to start heading next door when a sudden shatter pulls her attention back to the building. 

As the smoke continues to build, Marty hurriedly runs out the front door, coughing and wheezing. His eyes are burning but suddenly become clearer when his eyes meet hers. The shaggy blonde watches as his best friend rushes over to him, panic written clear across her features. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better.”

Shaking her head, the brunette carefully avoids the gash across his left forearm and throws the other around her shoulder helping him towards the blue pickup truck. She opens the tailgate, prompting him to sit down before she rushes to the front seat, returning with a bottle of water and old rag. Kensi douses the rag with some water before handing the bottle over to Marty and starts to wipe the soot off his face. “What happened?”

“He found us.”

Her brow furrows in confusion before it hits her. He? Gordon. “He…where is he now?” 

Marty takes a sip of water and turns back to the inflamed building once again. “Your dad, he was-“

A loud explosion interrupts the 12 year old, making both their eyes go wide in trepidation. 

She may be young but only takes a few seconds after seeing the explosion that makes her realize what it most likely means for her dad and Roberta. “Oh my god.”

“Kensi!”

The two pair of eyes fly to the side of the building as Don comes into view, in his arms Roberta’s limp body lays, blood running down her face. “Marty, buddy, hop up.”

The blonde does as he’s told, watching as the man who’s more like a father to him than his own lays his mother down on the tailgate. “Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s going to be fine. Gordon just hit her over the head.”

“Where is he?” Kensi questions, looking around ready to open a can of whoop ass. 

“He’s had a knife. I had to fight him off.” Don turns his attention away from Roberta and towards the 12 year old, a frown playing at his lips. He knows how horrible Gordon treated the pair and frankly he’s not sorry for how it ended. “He’s not gonna hurt either of you any more.”

As Don’s words it him, tears begin to pool in his eyes as a sudden sense of relief takes over his being. Before he can truly process what’s happening, Don places his hand on the boy’s shoulder, pulling him in for a hug to end all dad hugs. “Thank you.”

“Kensi?”

She’s drawn out of her thoughts, at the sound of the team leader calling her name. “Huh?”

“Did you get all that?” Sam questions, noticing she’s caught a bit off guard, who could blame her. 

She shakes her head, trying to focus her attention back to the present. “I’m sorry, what?”

Stepping up to her, the ex-Navy SEAL bends down, now eye level with her, his eyes gaining the attention of hers. “Hey, look at me. I know you’re close to this. Can you keep your head in the game?”

She nods before taking a deep calming breath. “Of course.”

“Okay, now lets go talk to Detective Traynor and see if we can get your boy back.”

Her boy. She wishes.

••••

She steps inside the boat shed, immediately meeting the eyes of her best friend’s handler. “Hey, Jess.”

Detective Traynor takes the agents offered hug. “Hey, Kens, I’m doing everything I can to find him?”

“I know.” She nods, knowing that after her, Jess is one of the people that Marty can trust and has a solid relationship with.

Hearing the door close, Kensi turns towards her teammates. “Jess, this is agents Callen and Hanna.”

Each of the boys shake her hand before quickly getting to the situation at hand. 

“Detective Traynor, tell us what you know.” Callen asks, knowing how pertinent each and every single detail is.

The three listen as the detective explains the situation and operation that Deeks is involved in. 

As Jess is explaining the case, Kensi can see in her teammates eyes that they’re thinking Jess and Marty may have had something going on by the way she’s talking about him. Little do they know that the detective is batting for the other team, Jess that is. It kinda makes her smile for a brief moment as she thinks back to when she and Marty unexpectedly ran into the detective and her girlfriend at the beach one evening. The pure and utter surprise written on her best friend’s face was the definition of a Kodak moment. But it was her elbow connecting with his ribs, making him wince after he mentioned that she should join the girlfriends for a threesome, that really makes her smile. 

••••

Once Jess leaves Kensi and the guys decide to head back to the mission to see if Eric has any lead. Just as she steps outside, her phone starts buzzing. She quickly pulls it from her pocket, seeing an unknown number and pushes the green button, hoping and praying to anyone that will listen that it’s him. “Marty?”

“Kens.”

“Where are you?”

“Our spot.”

She takes a deep calming breath, focusing on the sound of his voice. “Okay, just stay there. I’m on my way.”

“Kens?” 

Her throat strains, trying to stop herself from crying as she hears the turmoil in his voice. “Yeah?”

“I...”

He’s still stunned, and she knows it. She can’t help but think about the photos of the charred car and how close he was to losing his life. How close she was to losing him. “I know. I know. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

[realm-sweet-realm]

Put in his Place

Here is a one-off of Bertrum and Nathan playing a prank on Joey. This is going to be really goofy.

After this, I’m doing the two-part Lacie x Abby story. That’ll be a lot more serious. So if this kind of thing isn’t your cup of tea, stay tuned!

—-

Bertrum’s visits to oversee the construction of Bendyland were rarely eventful. Lacie generally had everything under control, as she did now. Seeing all his men (and women) constructing the rides that he’d designed was like watching the coming together of a masterpiece, or the precise work of a machine.

“You there!” he boomed at one of his men, who turned to him, terrified. “Those bolts need to be tighter. Keep up like that and you’ll get someone killed!”

“O-okay, sir!” The young man replied. Bertrum smiled and nodded to let him know it was okay. And it was- Lacie would have caught the mistake.

Despite the client, coming out of retirement had not been a mistake.

“Oooh, Beertiee!” came a voice.

Oh, the client. Joey Drew. The young man turned to look at the unfolding scene, but immediately turned back to his work once he caught Bertrum’s glare. Bertrum took a deep breath, and turned to the most loathsome part of his job. “Yes, Mr. Drew?”

“A very important person is coming to the studio. I was just wondering if you could make it look... I don’t know... better in here? I mean, the air is just thick with sawdust, and the lighting conditions aren’t exactly the best... and maybe you could have at least a few rides up and going for tomorrow afternoon?”

Bertrum clenched his jaw, took a deep breath, and managed to answer this callow excuse for a business owner in a dignified manner. “Mr. Drew, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re in a warehouse. There is going to be sawdust everywhere no matter how often we sweep because people are cutting pieces of wood. The lighting conditions of the warehouse you rented are not in my control. As for getting the rides up and going, no, I cannot do that three months before our negotiated deadline. Do you understand?”

“Oh, but I thought you could do it. With all your experience and competence... I kind of thought I’d show it off to my good pal Mr. Arch! He’s coming for a tour tomorrow and I want to impress him. And I mean, what does it say if you can’t pull it off?”

Bertrum was unphased by Joey’s attempt at manipulation. “You do not judge a chef by how a meal looks when it is half-cooked. Wait, did you say ‘Mr. Arch?’” Nathan Arch supplied Bertrum with the steel for his rides, and Bertrum had met him a few times at business conventions and fancy parties and the like. They’d gotten along well enough.

Joey nodded.

“Trust me, Mr. Drew- Nathan knows what a construction site looks like. Because he’s a business man who has overseen a few of them in his lifetime. He won’t see this as a mess but as a well-functioning machine.”

The condesension Joey was used to, but he was stunned as soon as he heard the word, “Nathan” from Bertrum’s lips.

“Yes, Joey, we've met. Perhaps the three of us should do this little tour together.”

“Sounds like a great idea, Bertie! Meet me in my office at nine tomorrow!”

---

Joey was on cloud nine. Nathan had been letting Joey take him on these annual (well, aside from the ones Nathan missed, which was most of them) tours for a decade, and each time Joey had done his best to impress him. This year, he’d wanted to show Nathan some Bendyland attractions, but this was even better! What better way to show Nathan that he was in the big leagues than to have this tour alongside the industry legend he’d befriended. On his way to his office, Joey checked his suit and hair for the millionth time- which was really unnecessary, since he’d decided on black everything to avoid ink stains, but one couldn’t be too careful.

Joey opened his office door to find that Nathan and Bertrum were already there, sitting in chairs facing the door and smiling at him. Suddenly, Joey felt a lot less confident. And he should have- Berturm had been pleased to find out that Nathan thought of Joey as just as much of a try-hard nouveau-riche as he did, and they had made a plan to put him in his place.

“Nathan. Hi. I see you’re already acquainted with my business partner, Bertie. How was your flight from New Orleans?” In hindsight, the fact that Bertrum didn’t react to his nickname should have been the first sign.

“Wonderful. Joey, Bertrum and I were just talking about how you’ve bloomed as a businessman since he started working with you. He’s very proud. I never realized that you were real deal until now, but, well! I have to apologize. All this time I was refusing to treat you like a rich man. Are you ready to be treated like a rich man, Joey?”

Joey was stunned and ecstatic. He’d been vying for Nathan’s respect since they’d met, and he’d finally done it! “I- I- yes! Thank you for finally realizing how brilliant I am, Nathan, old buddy! Now, are you ready for a tour?”

“I am.”

With that, they went. Joey took Nathan on a tour of the animation department and showed off his fancy new technology, the toy department complete with waterfall, the plans for Bendyland (but not the dirty, dusty warehouse), and even snuck in a tour of the music department while Sammy was on lunch- he wasn’t about to let Nathan know that he let Sammy call shots on when he could visit his own music department! Today, he was to be large and in charge.

At fair amount of time into the tour, as the trio overlooked the toy department, Nathan spoke up. “It seems like your company is growing, Joey! When did you start investing in the steel wool of this place?”

There was a pause as Joey tried to figure out how to respond.

“Oh come on, Joey. Steel wool. The thing that all successful businessmen know about. The measurement by which other high-class men will know to judge your business’ future chances of success. When did you start investing in it?”

Joey’s face was beginning to flush with embarrassment as he looked into Bertrum and Nathan’s completely calm, understanding faces. “Um, I, started investing in it in 1936. Can we take a little detour, boys? My company is just doing so well that I think I should go order more steel wool right now. Nathan, how much would you suggest?”

“Hmm... about seventy or eighty tons should do it.”

“Great! Follow me.”

Joey led the two of them to the accounting and finance department and knocked on the door of their director of finance. The door opened to a weary-looking man who did not seem at all happy to see them.

“Grant- I’d like you to increase our stockpile of steel wool. Increase it to ninety tons!”

Grant nodded slowly, trying to work out how much that would cost. When one’s boss regularly asks you to account for items such as coffins and electric chairs, one learns not to ask unnecessary questions.

Bertrum, not wanting his financially precarious client to throw out so much money over a prank, shoved Joey aside and whispered something in Grant’s ear.

Whatever it was, it put a coy smile on Grant’s face. “Wow. Ninety tons of steel wool this year. Well, Joey, it sure is good to work under such a rich man, and with such a promising company.”

Joey beamed. Thank God Grant was playing along with him having bought it previously. But soon, he’d have that important status symbol, and respect amongst his peers.

The door closed, and (over the faint sound of snickering) Bertrum spoke up. “You know, Mr. Drew, steel wool isn’t just an item. It’s also in one’s personal style.”

“Oh? And how would you rate mine, Bertie?”

“Hmm... middling,” Nathan replied.

“Yes, ‘middling’ is a good word for it.”

Joey’s face fell. “Oh. Well, I was about to update my wardrobe. Maybe you could help me find something better?” God, he hated asking for help, but clearly he didn’t know much about being a rich man yet.

“We’d be pleased to!” Bertrum beamed, putting an arm around Joey’s shoulders. “It’s been so long since I had a young, inexperienced, callow little business boy under my wing!”

Given the circumstances, all Joey could do was smile and fantasize about rearranging Bertrum’s anatomy.

Soon, they were in a high-end tailor shop. “Just tell him what you want,” Nathan advised, “he’s a rich man, he’ll know what to do.”

Joey nodded and rang the bell on the front desk. The tailor, who had been at the other side of the room at his sewing machine, came right over.

“Hello, I’d like to buy an outfit that lets people know that my company has a lot of steel wool.”

The shopkeeper squinted at Joey like he was an alien.

“Why don’t we help you find the style he’s looking for while he takes his measurements?” Nathan suggested.

As soon as Joey getting his measurements in the changing room, Bertrum and Nathan explained the situation to the tailor, and by the time Joey came out, they’d selected the perfect outfit for him. It was a glittering silver suit with a purple tie. The light from an open window hit it and nearly blinded Joey.

“What... is that?” Joey asked, starting to wonder if he was being messed with.

“I believe we have found your new outfit,” Bertrum asserted, “the perfect embodiment of steel wool.”

“Cutting edge- in a few months, everyone will be wearing them, but you’ll be among the first,” Nathan added.

“No, it can’t be. I mean, you’re saying this, but the two of you are wearing plainly coloured stuff...”

“No, they’re right,” the shopkeeper interjected, “I’ve actually received many, many orders of these from wealthy business owners. In fact, this is the last one I have!”

Joey grumbled, but he put on the suit, which was stiff and uncomfortable and was shedding glitter into his hair and leaving a trail behind him. He paid the shopkeeper a sizable amount of money and left in a huff.

The shopkeeper stuck his head out the door. “Remember- we do exchanges, but no refunds!” he called.

The summer sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. Bertrum and and Nathan had talked about taking Joey to a party to be laughed at, but Bertrum had decided it would make it too obvious that this was a prank. And anyhow, they’d come up with a better idea.

“Well, Joey, I think I should be getting back to my hotel room. But, maybe you could come with me, and I could show you one more aspect of what it means to be higher class. It’s obvious that you could use the help.”

“I- fine. Whatever. I don’t care.”

“Wonderful idea,” Bertrum said, “and on the cab ride over, I could give you some pointers of my own.”

“Oh, and Joey? Step into the shade, please. It seems that that suit turns you into a blinding hazard when the sun is low.”

After a miserable cab trip listening to Bertrum ramble incoherently about things Joey barely understood and using terms he’d never heard of (which made Joey feel simultaneously even more like he knew nothing and even more like he was being toyed with), the trio pulled up to the hotel that Nathan was staying at. Once they were in Nathan’s hotel room, Nathan kicked off his shoes and socks and laid on the bed with his feet hanging off of it. Normally, Joey would have some sort of teasing quip for him, but he was feeling a little worn down and just wanted to get the rest of the visit over with.

“So, Joey, the last thing we’re going to teach you about acting like you’ve got it, is how to give a good foot massage.”

Joey flinched in disgust. Then, he stopped. “Actually, I think it’s time I taught the two of you a lesson- this one on storytelling. You see, there’s this thing called the suspension of disbelief- and you just broke it. There is no ‘steel wool,’ this suit is a crime against humanity, and there is no way that it’s custom for rich men rub each others’ feet.”

Nathan laughed, and Bertrum laughed with him, doubling over in laughter and using Nathan’s shoulder to steady him once he collected himself. “Mr. Drew, you do realize that the only way you could believe that is if no other rich man had ever offered you a foot massage, right?”

“Humiliating.”

“You really told on yourself there.”

Tears were forming in Joey’s eyes- which was ridiculous because he was still sure that this was fake. He also knew that surviving two plagues had left Bertrum a considerable germaphobe. “Alright then, Bertie, show me your technique! Show me how a rich man does it!” he took off his shoes and threw them one at a time into Nathan’s arms.

“Okay, okay, we were joking!” Bertrum admitted before Joey could remove any more clothing.

“But... I think we made our point.”

“What point could you have possibly made except that you’re a bunch of assholes?!” Joey yelled.

“That compared to us, you’re new. We know it, you know it, stop trying to convince us or yourself otherwise. You wouldn’t have fallen for any of that unless some part of you realized that we know better than you on some things. And disrespecting Mr. Piedmont isn’t going to change that.”

Anger built up in Joey’s chest. He screamed in rage, punched a wall, and left, slamming the door on his way out. Then, less than a minute later, he knocked on the door. Bertrum opened it.

“Uh, could I use the phone? I need to call my accountant so he won’t buy dozens of tons of cleaning supplies.”

“Oh, we explained it to him. He won’t be ordering a thing. See you at our next weekly meeting.”

Without another word, Joey left. He could never look Bertrum or Nathan straight in the eye again.

[t-o-m-hollands]

Summery: Tom is not entirely sure of how it happens. But one moment he’s the gardener of Locksley Hall, and the next he’s run off to marry the lords daughter. A girl he despises.

Well, sort of.

Warnings: Smoking.

A/N: this is (loosely) based on the Locksley Hall poem by Tennyson, but the relationship between them is pretty heavily inspired by Atonement by Ian McEwan (the first part of the book) and the story at large also slightly inspired by Downton Abbey.   Also, I’ve changed the law in this. As I understand it (from watching Downton Abbey) girls could never inherit the estate, no matter if she was married or not. Here you will inherit, but only if you are married and it will then go to your husband. Also, I was listening to Old Money – lana del rey the entire time I was writing this. 

-

Locksley Hall, England – 1920.

It’s June, and Tom finds himself praying for rain.  

It’s one of those summer days when the air stands still. Not a whiff of wind, no breeze in the trees, not a cloud in the sky. Just an ever-pressing, inescapable heat that seems to paint the whole world a hazy golden shade.  

He’s knee-deep in the earth, sweat running down his back, shovelling soil under the merciless sun. It’s midday and the warmth is intolerable. He can already feel the blisters he’ll have on his hands tomorrow. To top it all off his head is pounding and he reminds himself to give Harrison a good kick in the chin the next time he sees him; for convincing him that one more drink wouldn’t hurt.  

And god, he desperately wants a cigarette.  

“God, it’s hot today” Madeleine’s bored voice drifts out the open window. “One can hardly think straight”.

Tom lifts his head and observes her through the glass. The owner of the voice is in the conservatory. Wearing a lace dress and her dark curls perfectly pinned into place. She is primly drinking tea alongside her mother; safely hidden away from the beaming sun.    

He swipes the sweat from his forehead before shovelling the spade further down in the dirt. A sudden urge to throw some of the earth through the conservatory window hits him, just enough to dirty up her white gown. But he resists it. Instead he sits down by the flowerbed and leans his pounding head against the wall. His sore muscles scream in relief. Lighting a cigarette, he then closes his eyes and inhales deeply. The whole world goes white as the sun shines through his closed eyelids and a soft sigh escapes him.  

“Have you received any more letters from Sir Hatfield?” He hears lady Locksley inquire from inside.  

“What, James?”  

“Yes, of course James, has he written you again?”  

“Thankfully not”.  

“Oh, don’t be silly child, he’s the owner of Hatfield house! God knows you could do worse than him” Lady Locksley scolds her oldest daughter. Despite himself Tom’s interest is peaked, so he keeps smoking and listening to the conversation, ignoring his gardening duties.  

“But he’s such a bore” Madeleine whines in response. “Honestly mother, all he ever talks about is hunting. And Hatfield house is a terrible building, you know I can’t stand Tudor architecture. Plus, James is ancient.”  

“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s not ancient, he’s ten years younger than your father.”  

“Exactly, and I’m two-and-twenty years old!”  

“Oh, do be quiet, you’re very lucky he’s shown any interest in you at all. I have talked to your father about this. It’s high time for you to get married. Ever since Francis…” she trails off and Tom knows why. Francis had been her oldest child and only son, the one set to inherit the land and the title. Who had died in the war during the battle of the Somme. Tom had known Francis and had not been fond of him. Upon hearing about his death he’d wondered if the heir had been shot by one of his own, though he did not air this suspicion. Tall and handsome Francis may have had been, but he had also been entitled, rude and unkind to animals. He’d beaten his horses, screamed at the servants and taunted his sisters.    

Lady Locksley continues with a new air of authority in her voice. “It’s more important than ever before that we find you a good match. You know what’s at stake if you don’t marry and marry soon”.    

Silence for a second, and unease is setting like lead in Tom’s stomach. Maybe this isn’t a conversation he should listen in to.  

“Yes, I know.” The words sound heavy and reluctant in Madeleine’s mouth.    

He opens his eyes and discretely as he can he pops his head up to sneak a look through the window. The look on the young heir’s face strikes him. It’s not sad, nor angry or dismayed. It’s apathetic. Like she’s somewhere far, far away.  

“Boy, I thought I told you to start digging!” Bertie Higgins voice booms over the grounds as he crosses the corner of the building and walk towards Tom, who quickly puts out his cigarette.  

An elderly man, with bushy beard and eyebrows, a bit too fond of beer and with fingernails so dirty Tom wonders if they’ve ever been cleaned, walks towards him. Mr. Higgins has worked as the head gardener on the grounds of Locksley Hall for longer than anyone could remember.  

“Sorry Mr. Higgins, I just took a breather” he says before putting out his cigarette and picking up his shovel again. Mr. Higgins observes him for a moment, then he leans in closer and whiffs of the beer the older man had for lunch hits Tom’s face. “Listen, boy” he says in a low voice “no good will come from spying on them gentle folks, hear me? No good will come of it”.

“Mr. Higgins I wasn’t -” Tom begins to defend himself but the gardener pats his shoulder and continuous in his stern voice. “Is no use lyin’ to me, boy, I’m too old, I’ve seen too much. You’ve been sniffin’ after that young heir since you came back. ’s no use lad. Them folks are not for the likes of us, above your station she is, well above your station.” Tom wants to protest. For he has most certainly not been sniffing after anyone, least of all Madeleine Locksley, but Mr. Higgins continues. “Now Alice,” he says and pats his shoulder again “she’s some good maid she is, why not ask her out?”  

Alice was indeed a maid at Locksley Hall. Pretty and always ready for a laugh. She’d made it perfectly clear of her interest in him too. There was however a streak of pettiness to the girl that he wasn’t too fond of, and therefor he’d reclined her thus far. But he doesn’t particularly feel like sharing that with Mr. Higgins.  

“Now boy” Mr. Higgins goes on. “You had your breather, go back to diggin’, if I told you once I told’ you a thousand times, you dig when the sun’s out and the dirt is dry an’ you water when the sun’s gone down”.  

Tom goes back to digging, the sun burning his neck, and his joints already protesting.  

He doesn’t notice Madeleine’s brown eyes observing him from within the conservatory.  

***  

The bathwater has gone cold. Still, she stays in the water. The prospect of putting down her book and getting up and ready for yet another family dinner seems dull at best. The rose-scented cold water feels refreshing against her skin. Today really had been unbearably hot. 

Still the heat lingers in the air.

Outside the bathrooms leaded windows the last rays of daylight are lighting up the grounds. Though the light in the gardener’s cottage is already lit.  

Dropping her copy of Pride & Prejudice to the floor she sinks further down into the water. Leaning her head back against the edge of the tub she closes her eyes and sighs.  

She’d just gotten to the part in the book where Elizabeth refuses Mr. Darcy’s proposal and it had annoyed her. How Elizabeth could refuse Mr. Darcy and all his possessions, and it didn’t lead to despair and desolation for her entire family, instead, as if by the waving of a magic wand, everything worked out beautifully in the end. That wasn’t real life.

Everything was annoying her today. Her mother’s persistent nagging, her father’s detachment, granny’s constant complaining. Tom’s strong arms wielding a shovel. The cotton shirt sticking to his sweaty back, the suspenders holding up his muddy trousers.  

She sinks further down into the cold water.  

Tom had looked annoyed today as well. But then again, he’d seemed permanently aggravated ever since he got back from France, at least in her presence. She’d seen him laugh plenty of times with Harrison from the pub when she visited the village, and with Alice too. He’d even crack a smile from time to time with Mr. Higgins. But her presence always seemed to put a frown on his face.

It had not always been this way.

As children they had played. They had explored the woods like travellers discovering a new world. Had run over the poppy fields pretending they could fly. They’d made it down to the sea and Old Sailor Joe had told them stories of Odysseus, and his long journey home. They’d sneaked out and slept under the stars and he had told her all of what Mr. Higgins had taught him about botany. Of how the things we sow in the ground with time will grow. About which flowers could kill you, and which ones could heal.

They had shared secrets and kept them between themselves, solemnly sworn blood-oaths with all the seriousness of a promise between children. They’d sworn that whatever happened between them stayed that way. That his secrets were hers and she’d keep them to her grave, and likewise for him.

Then she’d been sent away to boarding school and he had gone to the village school and that had been the end of that. During the holidays so much time had seemed to have passed between them that it was hard to pick up the threads of childish games where they’d left them. Then, war had broken out and she’d been sent to live with relatives in Canada, and Tom, well, Tom had joined the army.

Once they’d seen each other again years had passed, and they were strangers to one another.

The last evening light shines over the grounds of Locksley Hall, but Madeleine doesn’t move out of her bath, instead she stares out the window, feeling no motivation to move.  

Everything is fleeting, that was what she kept feeling. The hours, the days, the weeks, the months and years. Time passed her by so rapidly and yet all the days looked the same. She felt like a leaf landing in a river, being swept away with the stream with no control of where it was going or were it’d end up. Soon, she would be married, most likely to dreary James Hatfield, and then they would settle in Hatfield house and she would never spend her days roaming the grounds of Locksley Hall again.

Or maybe, she wouldn’t marry, and upon the death of her father and in the lack of a male heir, all their lands and possessions would go to the crown, and they’d all would be left with nothing.

A scream works itself larger in her throat. It had started earlier that day, with her mother in the conservatory. It would only grow larger, and larger until she wouldn’t be able to hold it in any longer. She knew this much from experience.

It felt like this,

In school they’d been taught about diamonds, about how with heat, pressure, and time diamonds are formed to something so unbreakable and everlasting that only another diamond can cut it. She’d imagined how all the screams she’d held inside, pressed between two lungs, over time created so much pressure that they’d turn her insides into diamonds.

As a child she and Tom had snuck into the library one night. In a book of medical terms they’d found the word autopsy with the description:  “An examination of a body after death to determine the cause of death or the character and extent of changes produced by disease — called also necropsy”. Not understanding much of this they had searched the other medical books until they found a more thorough description of what the word meant.

She had been horrified upon finding the truth in all its bloody glory. How, upon one’s death, a pathologist would cut you open to see what they could find. Painted pictures of the procedure followed, and Madeleine is still certain that the image of a cut open human heart is imprinted on her retinas forever.

She imagined it like this,

When they cut her open they won’t find veins, or blood, or intestines. But instead a cloud of smoke as they’ll tear her up, and inside –

dust. 

And a diamond heart; at the living core of which a handful of secrets shared between children years ago were kept. And the pathologists will look at one another and ask themselves, ‘why did she walk around with a diamond heart for all those years?’ Not realising, that her diamond heart was a perfect symbol of her.

Beautiful and valuable.  

And essentially useless.

The door to the bathroom bursts open, and a very aggravated eleven-year-old girl stands on the threshold. Her cheeks are flushed red, not only from a day spent playing in the sun, but from barely held-back rage.  

“That hag!” she bursts out. Her curly, brown hair a mess, wearing a grass-stained dress. A big hole at the sole her left sock.

Madeleine finally steps out of the cold water, pulls on her robe and turns to Beatrix.

“Beanie darling, you know you can’t call people that. Now, what has happened?”

“She told me I’d only be fit to marry a sailor the way I look! And then she had the nerve to say that I was lacking manners! Just because I told her I’d love to marry a sailor, at least he wouldn’t be such a bore!”

The older sister tries to hold back a smile, not wanting to encourage this kind of behaviour. “Would we perhaps be talking about granny?” she inquires.

“Do we know of anyone else that fit the description absolute hag?” her little sister answers, hand on her hip, clearly still annoyed. “Also, she says I have to change for supper in the nursery, god knows why; I’m hardly trying to impress nanny, and that they are waiting for you downstairs.”

And thus, it is time to face the unavoidable and join the lion’s den. Madeleine steps into her adjoining bedroom to get dressed and Beatrix follows closely behind.

“You’ll never guess who she suggested you should marry” Beatrix continues, amusement in her voice, as she sits down at her sisters dressing table, inspecting the bottles of scent and jars of powder with a bemused look on her young face.

“Was it by any chance James Hatfield?” Madeleine answers as she steps into the blue frock Alice had laid out for her earlier.

Beatrix stares at her sister in incredulity and in a heartbroken voice she wails with disbelief in every syllable,” OH, surely not! Leine, you can’t marry him! You simply can’t!”

Benie and Lenie were the affectionate nicknames the sister had for one another. As a child Beatrix had not been able to say Madeleine, but instead only pronounced the latter part of the name and dragged the vocals out into a ‘leeniee’ every time she called out for her.

“Well, he hasn’t proposed yet, so nothing is set” Madeleine answers while avoiding her sister’s questioning eyes, inspecting her hair in the mirror instead.

“So that’s why they’ll have a ball then, I was wondering what called for such an occasion”. 

“A ball?”

“Yes” Beatrix states, inspecting her own freckled, sunburned face in the mirror. “Mommy told granny that they would have one as soon as possible”.

The scream works itself larger in Madeleine’s lungs.

“Oh, well. It can’t be helped” she says and leads her sister out of the bedroom. “Now, you really do need to change, or nanny will be furious with you, and I’ll have to join them downstairs”.

The bedroom door closes behind them as they leave.

***  

The late evening air is loaded with the scent of rhododendrons. In the trees the nightingales sing, and the summer air feel cool against her bare arms as she steps out into the night.

Carefully, as to not be seen from any of the windows, she makes her way across the garden. It is dark, but on her childhood paths her feet still knows where to tread. She walks past the house, the gigantic rhododendron bush, and along the pathway lined with pink geraniums, down the trail past the summerhouse by the lake and further still until she arrives at the fountain by the labyrinth. The deep green hedges are lined with powder pink hydrangeas, blue hyacinths and cardinal red peonies. In the middle of it a square with a fountain. And if you look past that, the entrance to the labyrinth itself. 

If she had walked further still, away from the labyrinth, she’d come to a wide field of poppies. Had she, instead of walking north from the house, walked west she would have ended up by the sea, and the cliffs and Locksley Bay. East of the house laid the road to the village, and then the road to town. South of the manor the forest grew.  

She doesn’t go through the entrance of the labyrinth but sits down by the edge of the fountain. From her pocket she picks up a package of Woodbine cigarettes, but when she goes to light it, the lighter only flickers.

“Need a light?”

She nearly falls into the fountain, taken by surprise by the familiar voice. Tom laughs and walks out of the shadows. Hands in pockets and hair a wild mess.  

“Wanker!” she burst out, heart beating painfully hard in her chest.

“Now, now, where did you learn a word like that?”

He’s so smug, and it’s making her skin crawl with anger. She ignores his question and ask, “did you follow me here?”

He moves closer still, until he’s right in front of her. Then he takes out his lighter. She puts the cigarette in her mouth and he lights it for her.

“No” he answers eventually. “Was just finishing up watering the peonies.”

“You water the peonies in the middle of the night?”

He lights a cigarette for himself and blows out pearl white smoke into the summer night before he answers. “Yeah, as Mr. Higgins keeps telling me. You dig when the soil is dry, otherwise you’ll shovel mud, and you water the plants when the sun’s gone down and the soil is cool, or you’ll just end up boiling the poor things”.

She looks at him, really looks at him; while he’s busy looking up at the moon. His white cotton shirt is filled with stains of earth and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, a worn linen jacket thrown over his shoulder. Worn suspender holds up his muddy pants. His brown locks frame his face perfectly and in the moonlight his skin, tanned from working out all day, seems to almost radiate. He looks positively angelical. A sudden urge to pull her fingers through his hair overwhelms her. 

She looks away.

The nightingales sing louder than ever in the silence, as do the buzzing insects. Somewhere in the far distance a fox screech.

“You know” he says, sitting down on the bench opposite the fountain, leaning back he spreads out into a relaxed position. “Whenever I hear a vixen’s cry I think about Gideon’s ghost.”

“Well, you are the inhabitant of Gideon’s cottage”.

When, or indeed why, the gardener’s cottage on Locksley Hall had been baptised Gideon’s cottage no one seemed to know. Not even Old Sailor Joe, and rumour has it he’d been guarding the boats in Locksley Bay since the first wave crashed against its shore.

But the gardener of Locksley Hall had, for as long as anyone could remember, lived in Gideon’s cottage.

As a child her older brother had frightened her with tales of Gideon’s ghost, and how he still roamed the grounds of the manor, still volatile over long forgotten quarrels. When ever she’d hear a fox’s cry at night, as they laid tucked up in their shared nursery, he’d told her it was the ghost of Gideon, seeking out small girls to take out his revenge on. She had been terrified.

When she’d told this to Tom he had lost his temper with her brother, the two had never gotten along, and he’d taken the older boy to the ground, punching him with his small fists until a furious Bertie Higgins, who’d seen the quarrel from across the yard, had pulled him off him. Madeleine knew Tom had gotten a trashing from Mr. Higgins for the attack and a stern telling off from her father.

“I love that old cottage” he says with a found smile on his face, blowing out more smoke into the air between them. “But I’m yet to see his ghost. ’s a shame really, would have asked if the legend was true about gold being buried at the cliffs of Locksley Bay”.

She smiles, and the nightingales keeps on singing. The scent of peonies and hyacinths is heavy in the air, despite the smoke.  

Tom observing her with an intensity that unnerves her, so she turns away from him to look down into the fountain. Slowly she lowers her hand into the cold water and she watches as the goldfish swim around her.

“Why are you out here smoking at night?” he asks, and she turns to back to look at him, pulling her hand out of the water. He’s still observing her, and she feels almost naked under his glance, despite the silk gown she’s still wearing from dinner. It makes her nervous when he looks at her like that, because underneath their easy tones of conversation, she’s not actually sure he likes her all that much. She shivers, goosebumps all over her naked arms.  

“Here” he says and throws her his jacket. She utters a thank you and pulls it on. It smells of earth and smoke, and fresh cut grass. It smells like him and her diamond heart beat harder in her chest.

“Papa doesn’t like me smoking in the house.” She answers in the end.  

In fact, her father was against her smoking at all. It was a habit that had begun at Talbot Heath boarding school. Smoking with the other girls behind the gymnasium. They’d practised smoking without coughing, feeling mighty smug when they succeeded.

But smoking was, as it had been pointed out to her by her father, ‘not a dignified habit for a woman of her class to partake in’. When she’d gotten back from Canada after the war they’d have words about the subject. In the end the general agreement was that she did not smoke in the house, or amongst other people. She didn’t always follow these rules. There were days when all she did was sit in her bathroom, smoke cigarette after cigarette and read books. A part of her wanted to walk around the house and leave a trace of smoke in every room. Like a ghost, reminding them that she is still there. But a deeply rooted respect, verging on fear, of her father has always kept her from doing such a thing.

Tom hums in reply, that smug smile on his face again. “And what’s dear papa to say about this then? Hmm?” He nods at her, sitting just a meter away from him, wearing his jacket. “Princess sneaking out at night to share a smoke with the gardener?”

“Oh, do shut up”.  

“You know you really have improved your vocabulary since we last spoke” he replies dryly, “must be all that reading”.

“How do you know I read so much”.

And maybe it’s a trick of the moonlight, but she swears he blushes, his cheek the colour of peonies. “I can see the light in your window from my cottage at night”.

“Oh, and you’re keeping tabs on me? How sweet!” You reply in a mocking tone, grateful that you get the chance to be smug for once.

“Well, it’s hard not to notice it” the annoyance is clear in his voice. Then he changes the subject. “What are you reading so late at night anyway?”

“At the moment, Tennyson”.

He groans, “of course you like Tennyson” he scoffs, puts out his cigarette and lights a new one, offering her one as well, which she accepts.

“What’s wrong with Tennyson?” She asks, indignant.  

“Nothing I guess” he responds, “unless you’d like to read about things other than knights and fair maidens”  

“He did not only write about knights and fair maidens!” She defends fiercely. “He wrote about love and loss and death and privilege and -”  

“Oh, he wrote about privilege, did he! Well, you know all about that, don’t you? Little miss ivory tower”.

“And what do you read then? What is so good it makes Tennyson look foolish to you?” She tries to keep her annoyance out of her voice, but its difficult, especially when he looks at her like that. Like he finds her laughable.  

“Recently? Mostly Gorky.”

“You always did prefer your literature Russian. You’re politics too if Alice is to be believed.”  

He smiles, a little less condescending this time, “and you always loved your poetry, and no, she isn’t”.

“You must like some of the poets, surely?”  

“I’m rather fond of Shelley, actually”

“And the sunlight clasps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea:  what is all this sweet work worth, if thou kiss not me?” she quotes, not considering the implication of her words until they’ve already left her mouth. It had always been her favourite poem, and the words fell from her lips so effortlessly. But the intensity in his eyes as he observers her seem to change the very air around them. It is as though the whole world stills, if only for a moment. Like the nightingales and the foxes and the crickets all have heard her, and quieted down, in suspense over what’s to happen next.

He stands up and puts out his cigarette. Looking away from her he suggests, “we should head back, it’s late. I’ll walk you”. So, she puts out hers as well and follows him, and in silence they head back to the manor house, each avoiding the others eyes.  

She pulls his jacket closer to her.  

Then, he stops in his tracks. “Look,” he says and points up at the night sky “Andromeda burns bright tonight”.  

Already as a child he’d been good at recognising the constellations. Many a night they had sneaked out and wandered off to the poppy fields where they’d laid down their heads, and he had pointed up to the sky, just as he was doing now, and taught her to read them.  

“Andromeda, who was tied to the rocks, to be eaten by the sea monster Cetus?”

He nods, but doesn’t look away from the sky, “but Perseus rescued her”.

“And you criticised Tennyson for writing about knights and maidens” she teases.

He looks down at her then, a smile tugging the corners of his lips. They start walking again, his hands in his pockets, looking at the road ahead.  

“So, what did your dear Tennyson write about privilege?”  

“That opportunities are only given to those with riches already” she answers, and then she quotes, “every door is barr’d with gold, and opens but to golden keys.”

Tom is silence for a moment. They’re nearing the end of the road; they’re by the rhododendron bush, and they’ve reached the points were they have to walk their separate ways.  

She removes his jacket and hands it to him.  

“Keep it, for now. You can give it back later, you’ll freeze.”

“No” she argues. “No, Alice will see it and wonder”.

He doesn’t argue with her on that point but takes the jacket from her outstretched hand. “Well” he says, awkwardly. “See you around, Lady Madeleine”.  

They part ways.  

***

FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED

(A/N: I’m reposting this because the first time i posted it didn’t show up in the tags and it had like 3 notes)

Taglist: @londonmademedoit  @isthataladybag   @ceexreverse  @daygiowvibe @averyfosterthoughts @applenter @viwihere @youcompletemess @marvelpeters @youngsenpaibaby @duskholland @vanillanestor​ @panicattheeverywherekid​ @starrycigarettes​ @primadonnasdream​

[eirabach]

Starcrossed [1/1]

My contribution to @pen-and-ink-week-2020 day one, prompts: camping / steady.

Gordon’s got mud in his hair and splinters in his knees and a blood blister on his palm from a mallet he had absolutely no idea how to use and Virgil -- Virgil needs to wipe that look off his face right this damn second.

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this.”

Virgil, the bastard, is grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, you asked for my advice and my advice was to do something different and memorable. Not go bury your excrement in the woods memorable. That’s on you, kid.”

Gordon drops back onto the crinkly nylon nest he’s fashioned from their sleeping bags, and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“Oh this is a disaster. This is such a disaster. I need evac. A new name. Safe house. The works.”

Virgil sighs, and taps his tiny holographic foot against the painfully out of place pink leather overnight bag that’s jammed up against the tentpole.

“You’re being over dramatic. She hasn’t actually left.” He pauses, craning his head as though he can’t already see the entirety of the two man tent from the comm’s spot at Gordon’s feet. “Has she?”

“I have sent,” Gordon hisses between clenched teeth, “a member of the aristocracy to fetch firewood.”

“Sounds fair to me, she wants to eat right?” Virgil’s grin is so big it must physically pain him. Gordon hopes so. “Vive la revolution!”

“Vir--gil.”

“Gor-don.”

Beyond the gentle rustling of the wind through the redwoods and the sound of his own internal mental breakdown, comes a high pitched and familiar yelp. Gordon scrambles upright as best he can, clutching the comm to his chest with unsteady hands.

“Oh god, she’s coming back.”

“Yeah, that was the plan right? Gordon --” Virgil’s not grinning quite as big anymore and his voice turns gentle. “It’s gonna be okay. It’s Penelope. And you. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Gordon grimaces, peeling back the tent’s zipper far enough to see her, her hair tucked up under a worn IR branded bobble hat, her back to him as she drops an armful of kindling into the centre of the clearing. “Yeah, I mean, she could realise. And run. Yeah, that’s pretty much what I’m worried about.”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Gordon --”

“Gordon!”

Virgil squarks unhappily as Gordon tosses the comm over his shoulder.

“Hey! Hi, yes. Hello.”

The tip of Penelope’s nose is pink from the autumn chill, and when she smiles it scrunches up tight as the band that seems to have appeared around his chest..

“You sound surprised to see me.” She moves to peer around him and into the tent proper. ”What are you up to in there?”

“Nothing?”

“Really?” She steps back, gesturing to the woodpile. “Well, since you’re a gentleman of leisure, does this meet with your approval?”

Gordon winces, and begins struggling to extradite himself from the really very much too small tent. Yet another plan that had seemed like such a good idea at the time.

“I didn’t mean like, nothing nothing.”

“Oh of course.” Penelope nods sagely. “The other sort of nothing.”

“Yeah exactl -- Bertie!” A tiny flash of cream and black comes barrelling into him as he tries to untangle the zip, sending Gordon flying back into the tent in a cacophony of tearing fabric. He scrambles back up and stares at the tent door, which is now hanging morosely in raggedy strips. “This is -- kinda a disaster isn’t it?”

Penelope pops her hands on her hips, and smiles down at him fondly. 

“Oh I don’t know, I can’t see any Thunderbirds swooping down to save the day.”

Gordon groans. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Oh come along, darling. Fresh air, nature, what’s not to love?” She steps forward, and drops to her knees in the leaf mulch before him. “You’re not getting spoiled by your tropical island lifestyle are you?”

“Uh, this was my idea?”

“So I recall. Sold to me on the promise of ‘smores and cuddling and really darling --” she taps her watch. “I seem to be suffering from a distinct lack of either.”

Gordon slaps at the remains of the tent doorway and clambers out, pulling Penelope to her feet as he does so. Behind them Bertie is busy tugging a tartan blanket free, his tail wagging frantically as he wraps himself up in it.

“Sorry,” he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and swaying slightly as she leans back to place her own arms around his neck. “That’s very remiss of me.”

“Very,” she says, and goes to rest her cheek on his shoulder. “Is there something wrong, Gordon?”

The leaves crunch under their feet and Gordon buries his nose in the soft wool of the ugly hat. It smells like her perfume and ozone and island heat and he’d wondered where she’d gone and got it from and huh, now he knows.

“You stole my hat.”

“I borrowed it.”

“That’s a crime, Penelope.”

“Are you trying to change the subject?”

“Are you trying to get away with stealing my hat?”

Penelope draws back, soft smile replaced by a line between her brows that makes Gordon’s chest hurt. “You can have it back, you know.”

“No -- god no. You look way better in it than I ever did anyway,” he smiles a little brighter for her, and kisses the line until it melts away. “Sorry if I’m being weird. I kinda -- I don’t know. Nervous, I guess.”

And then she’s smiling again, and the world rights itself slightly. “I am threateningly attractive in this hat.”

“Oh, very.”

“And you do have to prove your manliness to me.”

“Oh?” The world tilts again, but for very different reasons as Penny pushes her body against his. “I think I can probably --”

And then she’s gone, practically prancing across the clearing to the pile of wood. She holds two pieces up, her lip between her teeth, and wriggles her eyebrows at him.

“You promised me ‘smores.”

---

He proves his manly worth eventually, and the campfire he coaxed and wheedled into existence burns bright as the full moon rises overhead. 

He’d brought camp chairs, but they sit abandoned where he’d dumped them, and the two of them lie side by side on the blanket Bertie had liberated, cooling cups of tea at their sides, their breathing steady and rhythmic under a spinning, starbright sky.

“It rather puts everything into perspective, don’t you think?”

“Hmm?”

Penelope waves a hand up at the sky. “All -- all of everything. Sometimes it all can feel a little overwhelming, and then I think -- well.” She drops her hand, wriggles a little closer into his side. “I think that sometimes it’s all too easy to forget that this whole planet of ours -- every one on it -- we are so terribly tiny aren’t we?”

“Jesus, Pen.” He pinches her side slightly, squeezing his arm underneath her as she jumps and pulling her as tight against him as he can manage. “I get enough short jokes at home.”

“Oh ha ha, I don’t mean that in a bad way --”

“That I’m short?”

She smacks at his belly, and her laugh rings through the trees and out into the universe. “Gordon!”

“Sorry, sorry.”

Penny shakes her head slightly. She’s lost the hat at some point during the evening, and her hair catches on the rough blanket, tickles his nose. “I just -- sometimes I need reminding that I’m allowed this, that’s all. That we have a place.”

“Tell me about it.” It’s hardly more than a breath, hardly out loud at all, but Penny’s hand settles on his where it lies at her waist and her fingers twist tight between his own.

The moonlight forms a silvery halo around her upturned face, her soft breaths forming little puffs of cloud that float and fizzle away in the chill night air, and it’s just the two of them, the rest of the world banished from the circle of the campfire’s light. It’s -- it’s a moment.

Gordon’s other hand settles in the pocket of his jacket, and he grips the velveteen box tightly as he tries to steady his nerves. Imagines Virgil, the way he’d rolled his eyes and said, what’s the worst that could happen?

And Gordon looks at Penelope and Penelope looks at the stars and he thinks forever.

I could lose this forever.

And he thinks -- he thinks -- he can’t.

He uncurls his fingers from the box, slips his hand free to thumb at a chocolatey smear on her cheek. Penelope turns her face into the palm of his hand and sighs.

“Thank you,” she says. “I needed this.” 

Gordon goes to scoff, but then she’s dipping her head to drop a kiss to his wrist and his heartbeat skitters and skips under her lips.

“Take me to bed?”

She doesn’t have to ask twice.

---

Morning has brought a bright autumnal dawn, perfect yellow light pouring through the poorly pinned doorway to settle on the dew damp curls at Penelope’s temples, freckles burnished gold against her cheeks.

He’s seen a lot of beautiful things in his life. Beautiful places. Corals, neon pink and orange in a turquoise sea, otherworldly sunsets, cave systems that glow lilac with phosphorescence, the way a mother’s face twists when he places their lost baby back in their arms.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything as beautiful as this.

Penny’s all twisted up in the sleeping bags, the zips long abandoned, her hair wild with static, her arm thrown over her head. There’s a pug snoring between her knees, her elbow’s half an inch from his nose, her lips are chapped from the chill air, and he loves her. God, but he loves her.

And Gordon -- Gordon can’t help it. He leans over, kisses the tip of her cold nose and whispers;

“Marry me.”

Blue eyes snap open shrewd and bright, so bright, that the part of Gordon that’s not currently freaking the fuck out wonders, briefly, if her perfect peaceful sleep was just a bit too perfect. “Pardon?”

Oh, oh this is not the way this is meant to happen. No. No way. He wriggles away from her as best he can, backs himself right up until the tent is sticking to his back and Penny -- Penny is staring at him as though he’s actually lost the plot.

He’s totally lost the plot.

She’s worrying her lip between her teeth, that furrow back between her brows and oh god he’s fucking this up isn’t he. He knew he would. He knew it. “Gordon, did you --”

“No! No, not -- not no -- just hang on -- hang on I was meant to do this -- stand up.” He gestures, a tad wildly, and Penelope blinks at him. Maybe she had actually been sleeping after all. Maybe he can convince her this is some sort of terrible nightmare.

“I -- excuse me?”

He takes an unsteady breath, attempts to gather whatever wits he possesses, and scuffles around for his discarded jacket. His fingers finally close around the box, and he squeezes his eyes shut. At least he’s already on his knees. “You gotta -- you gotta stand up.”

“I don’t think -- “ she starts, but then he’s pulling the box out of his pocket and even though he literally would rather okay face a tsunami naked than open his eyes, he can still hear her sharp intake of breath. Oh god. 

“Okay -- okay darling, look at me all right?” He opens one eye, risks a glance upward to see her bent almost double, the cross pole of the tent across her shoulders. “There now, better?”

“Penelope --”

Maybe he feels the tension, or maybe he is just a tiny little asshole, but this, this moment, is the very moment Bertie chooses to rouse from his slumber and leap up at Penelope’s legs.

He launches himself with such force that the slippery nylon that makes up their bed shifts, and Penelope, already off balance and folded like a half shut knife, jumps in shock. The cross pole shudders and -- oh, shit.

Penelope lands in a heap, and the tent follows her collapsing on top of them like one of grandma’s souffles. Bertie whimpers unhappily, wriggling his way free of a sea of wet nylon to force himself bodily between them. He laps at Gordon’s shaking hand, then looks up at Penny with huge, innocent eyes.

Bertie, Gordon decides, has been spending far too much time with Parker. 

He goes to tell Penny as much, but to his horror he sees big, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, her eyes red and rimmed black with yesterday’s mascara. He scans her for wounds, protruding tent poles, anything that might explain the funny little gasping sounds she’s making, as though she can’t quite catch her breath.

“Are you hurt? What -- did you sprain something? Tell me where it hurts.”

Penelope shakes her head fiercely. “No, no I’m not hurt.”

She half laughs, a strained, breathless little thing, and moves to hover her hand over the little box. 

Gordon looks down. Penelope might be not quite touching it, but Bertie is resting his nose against the golden clasp holding it closed and looking up at Gordon like -- 

Like even the dog can’t quite believe the mess he’s making of this. 

“Oh don’t -- I’m sorry Penny, I’m sorry-- don’t cry. Oh wow, this has gone even worse than I expected.”

She laughs again, he can feel it against the crown of his head as he tries very hard to curl up into himself and disappear entirely. “Gordon Tracy, you are the most ridiculous man --”

“Don’t rub it in Pen, jeez.”

“Will you let me finish?” Her voice is sharp, and he snaps his head up. She’s smiling all the same, even though her cheeks are still streaked with tears “Thank you.” He just nods, lost for words, lost entirely and just waiting for her next words to set him back up. To show him where to go. They’re close enough in the wreckage of the tent for her to rest her forehead against his, her words quite as a whisper but all the clearer for them. “You asked me once if you were my favourite.”

Gordon swallows hard. “Yeah. I remember.”

She smiles, and their noses knock together. “Ask me again.”

“Am I your favourite?”

A huff of breath against his mouth. Irritable, but so close, so much closer than he’d ever thought he deserved. “Not that.”

“Wh--” And she pulls back, just enough. Just enough that he can see himself reflected in her pupils, blown wide and dark and waiting. “Oh.”

“Oh. And I’m not getting up.”

He spares a glance around them, the tent now more a cocoon than anything else. “Don’t think either of us are.”

“Gordon.” She reaches for the box with shaking hands, opens it, pulls out the ring and presses it into his hand. Rose gold. Pink, of course. Pretty and delicate and set with a stone that has outlived its last owner by some twenty years. There’s a scar across its surface, avalanche blue, but he kinda likes that. The promise of outlasting whatever the universe throws at them. Penelope’s breath catches, as she withdraws her right hand to scrub at flushed cheeks, leaves her left in his. “Ask me again.”

“Oh. Right.” There’s that. The asking. He takes another deep breath. Steadier. Certain. “Penelope,” he says, and man she’s still crying but she’s nodding and that -- that seems positive, right? He powers on. There’d been a speech. He’d practiced it on Alan, who’d swooned very beautifully right off the balcony and into the pool. He doesn’t bother with it now. Sticks to the basics. “I am an idiot.”

“Yes you are,” she agrees, and her smile, her smile is brighter than the sunshine, brighter than anything. It’s the only light he needs, the only hope.

“Do you think you could maybe marry me anyway?”

She kisses him, hot and open, tears salty on her lips and a plea on her tongue and together --

Together they taste like yes.