#and this box is also clearly labeled with exactly what is inside

[diltonsstrangescience]

This is the worst security I’ve seen in my entire life.

[occamstfs]

No Need to Apply

Here is my 1K special! Though admittedly it is nothing much out of the ordinary- Thanks to everyone who submitted prompts but especially the anonymous suggestion that spurred this transformation of a desperate twink into a cocky slob! -Occam

Brock really needed a lucky break. He had been staying with his ex since they ended it, but now that he’s sleeping with someone it’s clear that Brock needs to get his own place. Unfortunately the market is not being quite so accommodating to his urgent needs. Given that he is now to be living alone it’s evident he also needs the place on the cheap. He had been denied all reasonable accommodations that he could afford and was beginning to contemplate moving back in with his parents when he suddenly received an email from an apparent realtor he’d never met.

It was an invitation to an open house at some ritzy downtown apartment that he was sure was out of his price range. Rather than just tossing it to his spam folder though, he finds himself looking at the handful of images with a voracity, whether it’s simple curiosity or a fantasy to have such clearly luxurious housing Brock reads through the whole listing. Reaching the end of the invitation and looking at the specs he finds the rent impossibly labeled as just under half his monthly paycheck.

Nearly spitting up coffee all over himself in shock, Brock’s eyes flutter to find exactly when and where this open house was. Surely the demand for this place would box him out but god wouldn’t it be nice to just check it out and dream. He sends an RSVP and far too quickly the realtor, Lucas, thanks him for his prompt response, wishes him well, and signs off saying see you soon. Brock went about the rest of his day as normal, if not a little cheerier than he’s been for some time as he keeps finding his mind drift to that almost-too-perfect apartment’s view over the city.

Fortunately off from work the next day, Brock took the bus to the open house, stopping by his favorite cafe that just so happens to be nearby. He grabs a drink and finds himself preoccupied with thoughts of what a convenience, what a windfall, this break would be. He heads inside and takes the elevator up to the suite and hesitates before entering at the door. Odd that there is no one else here, he double checks the room and floor and puts his ear to the door to see if perhaps other visitors are inside already.

In his untrained attempt to eavesdrop he puts his weight squarely against the door, pushing it open and stumbling in, nearly spilling his coffee over the pristine floors as he crosses the threshold into the apartment. Light streams in through the blinds, only magnifying the manicured state of the spotless room around him. The floor is clean enough to see his reflection, mouth agape, staring at how impossibly clean the apartment is. The only record at all that the place had ever been lived in is the furniture that had clearly been procured by someone of great means, though one lacking any critical eye or desire for design. He sees framed posters of some real red flag movies near a large TV and some sports trophies lined on a shelf. Brock can’t help but wonder what could cause someone to leave such personal artifacts behind and feels a chill in the air. 

He wanders away from the entrance to stand at the large windows, his phone ringing as he takes in the view of his town. Answering without checking the ID he hears a man’s voice he doesn’t recognize. Though he knows this must be the mystery realtor on the line, “How do you like the place Brock?” he begins to reply before being cut off by Lucas, “Have you seen the view yet, it’s quite something else.” 

Brock feels something flicker through his mind as he gazes at the city blocks around him, below him. His eyes briefly catch on his reflection in the glass, though not long enough to see his eyelids droop slightly as he is able to reply, a tad slower than he usually likes to project, “uhh, yeah I know right, how could I not apply to live here? It’s almost too good to be true right?” There is another chill in the air and his body shivers before tensing up, shocking him back to reality and awareness to something strange afoot, “Excuse me actually, I’m so sorry, how did you get my phone number?”

Lucas clicks his tongue and speaks with an almost sickly sweet tone, “Now Brock come now, what can I do to get you to move in today?” Shaking his head in shock Brock is immediately, regardless of the clear sinister air to this man, he really cannot afford to pass up this chance. He clams up as he clambors to express interest, “No I uh! Of course I want the place, just send the lease over so I can read through it.” There is a real weight to Lucas’ words as Brock hears them, the cloying tone impressing itself on his mind, “Wonderful! That is all I needed to hear!”

It is suddenly dark in the apartment, but wasn’t he looking out the window? He can’t tell if his eyes are open or closed but he cannot see. Brock tries to move his head around to see, to feel anything, he strains his mind reaching for any muscle to flex, any tendon to pull, limbs to controt. He loses track of time and reality as he sits in the darkness, trying to grasp anything beyond his own consciousness, unable to affect anything. He feels his right hand move in a familiar way then he feels a warmth, almost a burning, completely engulfs it. He can almost see the shine of a smile, stark perfectly lined teeth that seem eerily inhuman and suddenly there is once more light. He gasps, coughs, and spits up over himself. Immediately grateful that he can feel anything at all. After feeling his body, and seeing the world almost entirely like it was before he lost consciousness, besides a copy of some contract with his name signed at the bottom.

He takes deep breaths feeling his lungs stretch and he starts to read whatever he has gotten himself into in that stupor. He reads the first few lines before he loses where he was on the page. Going again he finds his eyes suddenly dry, doing an uncharacteristically heavy blink that he can’t quite recall ever doing before and as he wonders this he again forgets his work on the contract. He slams his hand on the thigh in a rare show of aggression and gives it one last go. Brock makes even less progress this time as he is almost immediately overcome by a headache. As soon as he looks away from the sheet though, it disappears. 

Brock groans as he feels himself starting to lose control of his senses before he hears his stomach grumble, and he finds a purpose he can immediately resolve. He starts to the fridge, clearly something has happened, an episode or something, he can figure it out later, he just needs food in his stomach now. He doesn’t stop to realize that there should be no food in the fridge since no one’s been living there. Though he finds there is no need as in the fridge, under a note labeled: “To Help Moving In -Lucas,” Brock sees at least a week of prepped meals. The thought that this is bizarre beyond imagination, as well as the concern at his missing time, is immediately pushed from his mind as his stomach rumbles once more, his mouth watering as he sees his soon-to-be dinner.

Brock swiftly heats it up and begins to scarf it down, throwing something on the paying no mind or care to the thought that he’s using the account of whomever the previous tenant was. He quickly scans through seeing a handful of shows and movies that he wasn’t quite interested in before stumbling on a reality show he was watching with his Ex. He grimaces and almost loses his appetite as he thinks about his boyfriend for the first time in what feels like forever. He sets his meal down on the coffee table and crashes down onto the couch. He continues to stew in ire at his ex, palming his crotch as his feelings become more passionate. He rolls his eyes in irritation at himself and that jerk, he’s not going to masturbate to that asshole. 

He reclines in the couch and hears the sound of paper shifting in the cushions, pulling it out he finds a crusted magazine lodged in the couch. What can he do besides shout “what the fuck” and toss it across the room. How could they have possibly missed that in their cleaning? Brock’s eyes shift across the room suspiciously, though he notices nothing amiss as the room is illuminated by only the television. He looks at his hand that grabbed the porn and blushes, wanting to joke about the absurdity to calm himself down. Though his body makes its priorities known once more as his cock pulses and he looks past to see the magazine once more. He did want to masturbate to anyone besides his ex right? 

He shuffles to pick it up, the discomfort and anxiety from handling something covered in a total strangers cum only heightens his pleasure as he sits back down. He grimaces as he sees this is a real hetero-bullshit magazine, he quickly flips through to find something he can work with. His cock keeps demanding his attention as he flips through, almost impatiently pulsing as if to suggest he doesn’t need the magazine at all, just give it your attention. Though soon enough he finds an ad for some protein powder made to emasculate the reader into buying, that almost immediately helps him lose control. 

Soon after he once more fades from consciousness, his cum joining the plethora of other stains in the magazine as he tosses it behind the couch. He finds himself in a darkness that this time feels almost familiar and pleasurable. He once more feels his hand, this time though it is wet and warm. He feels it scratching in briefs that are too tight, through pubes that are too thick. He hears snoring breaking through the silence of his sleep, but that can’t be right? He would know if he snores, surely that fucker of a boyfriend would have complained. He feels his head grow warm as if he’s got a fever, though he knows it is a rage. He feels his hand feel even tighter in his briefs as his cock begins to grow in them. He continues to think of every slight his ex made, every shortcoming he was made needlessly aware of, and of how much better things are going to be now.

The heat shifts from his mind through his whole body and as light begins to break through the windows. That is not what wakes him up though, rather it is the heavy scent coming from his now sweat stained clothes. He rolls off the couch onto his face, quickly removing his hand from his briefs to catch himself, landing the stinking hand too close to his face to not smell just how loud his underwear smells. He feels his clothes sit weird on his body as he starts to rise, while his shirt just feels like it’s hanging weird, surely from the sweat, it is impossible to not see how strained his underwear is. He groans as he feels them pull strangely before he just discards them and makes his way to the bathroom. 

His eyes immediately latch onto his now exposed crotch, he does a double take as he notices that it seems distinctly larger. He also would have sworn that he shaved his pubes far more recently than it seems. He scratches through them, blushing as he sees dried cum flake off curls that are longer and thicker than he ever remembers them begin. Rather than hoping in the shower like any reasonable person would do he instead tosses on some boxers, not questioning why clothing that isn’t his would just be lying out, or why he would ever put them on. Instead choosing to focus on how right wearing them feels. He pulls them tight and turns wanting to see just how his ass and bulge fill them out, though is waylaid as his shirt blocks the view. 

He sneers as he takes off the sweat-stained shirt and tosses it to the floor, stretching high as his reeking body feels the air on his skin. He smiles in shock as he sees the body he has now exposed, he sees hair spreading across his stomach and torso and sweat dripping off of pits that were sure to stain every shirt he is to wear from now on. Beyond that he feels a body that is indisputably powerful, where there wasn’t even fat on his body before there was now muscle accompanied with weight in all the right places. His eyes then trail down to see the weightiest part of him by far as it bulges even lower in his boxers.

He feels an urge to move, to flex, to stretch, fill him as he hungrily takes in every new change in his body. His eyes trace their way past muscles contorting to land on his face, seeing a jaw that could certainly do with a shave. He sees his eager grin begin to turn into a cocky sneer as he begins to stretch once more, trying to will his torso even longer, trying to force his body even taller. His voice grows even deeper to his barely-aware ears as he closes his eyes to stretch, not seeing his throat force itself thicker and longer. There is once again a flicker in his mind as Brock is in darkness once more. Where there was once discomfort and fear there is now only hunger and an eagerness to grow even more.

He feels an itch burn across his body. He feels his hands dig deep into his pits scratching as hair grows thick enough to hold an odor that would never dissipate. He smells as even in this dreamstate he raises his hands to his nose to give them a post-scratch whiff. He feels the same itch cry out from his chest and pubes, from his lower back and his ass. He feels himself move his jaw as it squares up, a rumble in his throat as he feels his groans grow even deeper. He feels his mind thicken and slow as his muscles flex in his sleep. His arms do rep after unconscious rep as he feels biceps that should not be rub against a chest that has never been there before.

Finally he wakes one last time, his hand as it apparently always is, shoved in his pants, once more barely fitting despite wearing the spacier boxers. Brock blearily looks to see lines of takeout containers covering his coffee table. He scratches his beard using the hand from his crotch and he deeply inhales, two birds one stone after all. He sets out to get started with his day, tossing over in his head if he should masterbate again or not, a stain from a wet dream clearly showing through his boxers. Instead he throws Drake on his speakers and starts getting an early workout in, seeing to every part of his body getting a pump as he feels the hunger in his crotch grow only more urgent. 

Going about this workout Brock feels totally at home in this apartment. After all he’s lived here for? Uh? His mind empties as he looks around and sees weeks of piled up detritus and filth. He sees dirty clothes and cum stains on his couch. Looking past them there are his American Psycho and Fight Club posters, discarded underwear hanging off the latter, as well as the trophies he distinctly remembers winning back in college wrestling. He smirks and flexes tilting his head to sniff his pit. Beyond feeling at home in his apartment he also feels unequivocally at home in this, in his body, duh. He jumps to his feet with ease, his stomach rumbling as he once more goes to meet a basal need.

Throwing some of his favorite protein powder in a blender with some milk and eggs he hears his phone go off. There are a string of messages from some bitch asking him to come back and for the life in him Brock can’t remember who that little fucker is? Hearing his shake finish blending he stares at the profile picture of whoever this twink is as he starts to down it, wiping his lips on his sweaty arm as needed. The twink he doesn’t know calls him Brock and his eye twitches, ugh. Why is this dude calling him by his, uh? Is that his middle name? Or no he was Brock right?

He finishes the shake, tossing the blender onto the pile of dishes in the sink and his mind finds itself deeply conflicted. As ever though, his body is more than happy to assuage him, the phone vibrates once more and his cock begins to bring him clarity, demanding his attention once more. Brock’s a little bitch name. He smirks as he looks around at his sty of an apartment, not remembering how neat it once was. Peeking from under a particularly dirty dish there’s a contract that he remembers that he meant to have a look at. 

Bringing it to his face however he simply can’t find the motivation to even start. Why worry about this when he can masturbate, or fuck maybe he can get that whiny bitch to come over? His eyes trail to the end of the paper and see his signature, written clear as day “Adam.” He guffaws at this, god how stupid can you be, he basically forgot his own name after that twink called him uh, whatever that bitch name was. He feels his crotch grow tight again, that is kinda hot though? He moans to himself, pawing at his crotch and texts whoever this man is his address and to come ready to fuck. Adam feels no real attachment to whoever it is, nor should he, a hole is a hole after all. Saying that thought he can’t help but feel this hole is due to be taught a lesson.

If you enjoyed this I also recommend @fredwkong's The Voice in Your Head which explores a similar idea in quite a unique and captivating way!

[wholoveseggs]

Hey, I love the stories you are writing for us! Thank you so much! If there's room for another one, here's an idea: human reader is pregnant with Elijah's child but is afraid he might not believe her as it is impossible for a vampire to procreate. His reaction, in fact, causes her to leave New Orleans, and a few years later, she returns, and Elijah learns he is a dad. Fluffy, possibly smutty. ")

Devotion

he's so daddy, he's so father

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

When you find out you are pregnant you are afraid of how Elijah will react. His anxieties around fatherhood get the best of him and he gives in to his darker impulses.

♡♡ Thanks for the request(s) @originals23 @classymesstuff009 & anon ♡♡

I combined the ideas and changed some elements, but I hope I captured the spirit of the requests -xoxo

7.7k words - Warnings: this is less of a story with a plot and more of a series of events over the course of readers pregnancy, lots of angst, childbirth, so so so corny, so much fluff, lots of belly touches, Elijah being violently over protective, more fluff, lots of affection, smut at the end, unprotected sex (duh)

"No no no no no," you mumbled, staring down at the fourth positive pregnancy test you'd taken that day. This couldn't be happening, it wasn't possible. But as you glanced over the little box and read the word "pregnant" again and again, it began to sink in. You were having a baby, Elijah Mikaelson's baby, a baby whose existence was impossible.

A sob you had been suppressing broke free, and you collapsed on the edge of the tub. You had no idea what you were going to do, your relationship with Elijah was complicated and had no label, and the thought of raising a baby by yourself was daunting.

"I'll figure it out," you told yourself as you pulled yourself up and splashed some cold water on your face.

You needed to tell Elijah, which was an entirely different kind of terrifying. He had always been very clear that vampires were unable to procreate, so he likely would not believe you. The thought made your stomach turn, and you rushed to the toilet once more to empty the meager contents.

It took you a couple weeks before you were able to build up the courage to tell Elijah. You had tried to find the words to break the news, but every time you thought you had it figured out, you panicked and decided against it.

But you were starting to show, and you knew it wouldn't be long until your clothes no longer concealed your growing belly. So, the day after your second ultrasound you invited Elijah over for dinner.

He was worried about you, it had been over a month since he'd seen you last and over two months since the last time you were intimate together. He missed you, and wondered if you'd met someone else. But that was the only explanation he could think of.

When he arrived at your place, he noticed something different right away. You looked exhausted, but you had a small glow to you, he also noticed that you gained some weight and he enjoyed how it filled out your figure.

You greeted him at the door, and he pressed a kiss to your cheek before handing you a bottle of wine. "Thank you," you smiled softly, leading him inside and taking the wine to the kitchen.

"It's been awhile," Elijah began, not knowing where to start, "are you doing alright?"

"Not exactly," you admitted, pouring two glasses of water and taking a seat on the couch next to him. Your hands began to shake, fear gripping you once more.

Elijah reached over and took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "What is wrong?" He asked, searching your eyes.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment before speaking. "I'm pregnant."

You could see the confusion, the anger, the disappointment and a dozen other emotions flash through his eyes. You couldn't stand the way he was looking at you, so you pulled your hand from his and stood, pacing around the room.

Elijah didn't know what to think, clearly you were seeing someone else. It hurt him, but neither of you ever had the talk about being exclusive. The thought of you with another man disappointed him immensely, it made him realize how much he wanted you all to himself. But it was too late for that now.

"Elijah, say something," you begged, tears streaming down your face. You were desperate for him to just say anything.

"Who is the father?" He questioned, his voice low.

You expected this question and had thought about your response for a while. Of course he wouldn't think it was his, it was impossible. But you had been with no one else, and you were tired of being a secret, you wanted to be a family, and if he rejected the idea, then that was on him.

"You," you answered, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"That's not possible," he shook his head. "I can't procreate."

"Klaus can, why not you?" You snapped. You weren't expecting him to believe you, but the reality of it hurt more than you expected.

"Klaus is unique, I am not," he stated plainly. You were quite distressed and although he didn't believe himself to be the father he still had sympathy for your situation.

“Is the father not... A good man?" He asked.

You began to sob, the hormones were really working against you, and you didn't know what to do. He had no idea how to react, and the longer you stayed silent, the more worried he became.

"I'm sorry," he spoke, his voice low, as he moved towards you.

"Don't," you shook your head, pulling away from his touch. "If you don't believe me, that's fine. I'm not going to beg you. I can raise this baby on my own."

"I can't be the father, y/n," Elijah said, trying to reach for you once more.

"Just leave, please," you pleaded. He didn't believe you, he thought you were seeing someone else, and you couldn't stand to be in the same room with him any longer. "Get out Elijah!" You shouted.

Frustration rose within him, he didn't enjoy being blamed for something he didn't do.

“Fine," he muttered, moving towards the door.

You felt overwhelmed with despair and wanted nothing more to do with him, so you watched him walk out the door without saying a word.

It had been a few weeks since you last saw Elijah and your mental health was deteriorating at an alarming rate. You had very little support financially or emotionally and it was taking a toll on you.

You hadn't slept or eaten well and when you did, you often felt sick afterwards. You had known about postpartum depression, but apparently there was something called prenatal depression as well. You had been reading online about the symptoms, and it was almost as though you were looking in a mirror.

You needed help, but couldn't will yourself to ask for it. You had no family, and no friends in the city. The only person you knew in Louisiana was Elijah, and you didn't want anything to do with him.

His rejection of you and the baby hurt more than anything you'd ever experienced before. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at a picture of the ultrasound. You felt alone and abandoned.

You would walk the streets at night, a foolish thing to do considering the threats in New Orleans. But it was the only thing that seemed to calm your mind, and the fresh air helped ease the nausea.

It was a clear, warm night and the streets were quiet. The soft glow of the street lights created a calming atmosphere, and the cool breeze blew the hair away from your face. You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, enjoying the moment of peace.

Then you started to cry, your hormones making you feel like you were losing your mind. You hated it, you would start to cry for no reason and then cry some more because you were frustrated over crying for no reason. It was an endless cycle.

You felt so lost, you thought you could do this all on your own, but you hadn't even had the baby yet and you were falling apart. Even though Elijah didn't believe the child to be his, it was still a Mikaelson and that came with many consequences, some you couldn't possibly foresee. You knew of Hope and how she barely survived her birth, what if the same thing happened to you and your child? You didn't have Elijah to protect you.

You knew you needed to swallow your pride and convince Elijah, he was the only one who could protect both of you.

Your feet took you to the compound before you could talk yourself out of it, and you stood at the gates, hesitating for a moment before making your way inside. You could feel the baby kick and move, it strengthened your resolve.

Elijah was in his study when he heard you approaching, and he wondered what you wanted. He decided to leave you alone after you kicked him out. It was the right thing to do, he reminded himself, he was not the father.

When he saw you standing in the doorway, he could tell you were upset, but he had no desire to talk to you, not after the last time.

"Elijah, please listen to me," you said softly, the words sticking in your throat. "The baby is yours, I have never slept with anyone but you. There is no one else, only you."

He sighed, he wished he could believe you, but he knew it was not possible. He wondered how awful the true father had to be if you were here lying to him once again.

"I know we were never exclusive, but I wish you would be honest with me about whoever the father is," he said, his voice low.

You stared at him for a moment before a sob escaped your lips. "Elijah, there is no one else, there has never been anyone else."

"Why do you insist upon lying?" He asked, turning away from you, unable to stand the pain in your eyes.

Sudden rage boiled over inside of you and you lashed out at the nearby table, knocking the items onto the floor. "I am not fucking lying!" You shouted.

Your outburst was quite unexpected, and he turned back to look at you, his eyes narrowing. Before he could say anything Freya walked in, alerted by the yelling and broken glass.

"What's going on?" She asked, stepping in between the two of you.

The tears returned, always at the most inconvenient times, and you just sobbed into your hands and knelt to the floor. Pure frustration and exhaustion took over and you were completely overwhelmed.

Freya looked at Elijah, confused and annoyed. He wasn't the type to yell, and certainly not at a pregnant woman. She wondered what was going on and why you were so upset.

Elijah shook his head, and began cleaning up the mess you'd made. He couldn't bear to look at you, the pain in your eyes was too much for him.

Freya walked over and knelt next to you, rubbing your back. "Tell me what's wrong sweetheart," she said softly.

The moment Freya touched you she felt it, her own blood, running through your veins.

"It's okay," Freya assured you. "Can I touch your belly?"

You nodded again, and she gently placed her hand over the swell, and instantly felt the magic pulsating from your womb. Freya could always sense her own blood, so long she searched for it. And here it was, right in front of her.

She was overjoyed, she had a niece or nephew, a new tiny Mikaelson for her to dote on. She was also so angry at her foolish brother she could have strangled him.

"Elijah," she said sternly, mustering her big sister voice to scold her little brother. "It's yours," she said firmly, standing and facing him.

He froze, a mixture of emotions passing through him. First he felt disbelief, then excitement, and finally dread. If this was his child, then the threats they faced everyday were even more dangerous.

"Are you certain?" He asked, not wanting to believe, fear gripping his heart.

Freya nodded, and moved to stand next to you, helping you to your feet. You were exhausted, physically and emotionally.

"Why didn't you bring her to me sooner?" She asked him, helping you over to the sofa and fetching you a glass of water. "Look at her Elijah, how could you leave her like this?"

He knew his sister was right, and he felt ashamed. He had been a fool, and caused you unnecessary suffering. He would not be making that mistake again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, coming to kneel in front of you. "Forgive me, please."

"I tried to tell you," you said softly, sniffling quietly.

"Leave us Freya, thank you," he said, not taking his eyes off you.

Freya was reluctant, but agreed, closing the door behind her. Elijah sat next to you, his posture stiff, and his face a stony expression. You were afraid, unsure what he would do or say.

He was always prone to self-loathing, but this was a new level, and he didn't know what to do. He felt incredibly guilty and responsible for the pain and stress he caused you. You did not look well, and he knew he needed to do everything he could to fix this.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, you looked dazed and swayed a bit, he pulled you close, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Don't apologize," you whispered, lifting your head and looking at him, "just promise you will help me, that's all I ask,"

Elijah was taken aback by the request. Of course he was going to help, why wouldn't he? But the fact that you needed to ask, made him feel terrible, made him feel like Klaus.

"Of course," he assured you, brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

A few tears escaped your eyes. You were tired and overwhelmed and his words and gentle touches were enough to completely break you. You began to cry, burying your face in his chest as you sobbed. A tidal wave of conflicting emotions washing over you, frustration, anger, guilt and a tiny hint of relief.

Elijah felt terrible, and he hated himself for causing this. You were pregnant, alone, and suffering. He would never forgive himself.

"You will stay here and you don't have to worry about a thing," he soothed, gently rubbing your back, "I will take care of everything, I promise,"

He meant it, you and the baby were his responsibility now, and he would protect you both with his life.

It had been a month since you moved into the compound and Elijah was true to his word and took care of everything.

He compelled doctors to check on you and Freya was also doing a spell daily to ensure the baby was healthy and developing well.

But he didn't have to compel people for the things that mattered. He was the one cooking your meals, helping with the nursery, and ensuring you were getting rest.

One night after dinner, you were sitting on the sofa together, talking and laughing.

You were starting to feel better, but you still struggled with your emotions, and Elijah did his best to make sure you were always happy and stress free.

You began to feel a little anxious, and he immediately sensed it, pulling you close to cuddle with him. Neither of you had discussed your growing feelings and neither of you knew where you stood with each other.

He placed a warm hand on your growing bump, and it instantly soothed the baby, and in turn, helped calm your nerves. You leaned closer into him and he wrapped his other arm around your shoulder.

He enjoyed having you so close, and he could smell the sweet scent of your shampoo as you rested your head against his shoulder. He still felt such guilt for the pain and stress he had caused you.

"Is this okay?" He asked softly, his hand slowly moving over the swell.

You smiled, enjoying the gentle caress. "Mmhmm," you hummed, snuggling deeper into his side.

He was being very sweet, and you were beginning to suspect that he had more than just feelings of obligation for the baby.

Elijah was enjoying the feeling of your body pressed against his, and he hoped that he could continue to make amends for the way he behaved.

"Have you thought of any names?" He asked, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"Hmmm," you thought, enjoying the warmth of his hand and the rumble of his chest. "I'm thinking… Elijah jr," you teased, giggling.

He chuckled and gave you a light squeeze. "Absolutely not," he smirked, kissing the top of your head.

It was a pleasant moment and the two of you laughed and talked about the upcoming birth and baby names.

Eventually, you fell asleep, and Elijah picked you up and carried you to bed. He gently tucked you in and placed a kiss on your forehead.

Now that you were asleep, he could let his own anxieties surface. The trauma around Hope's birth still haunted him and he would do anything to prevent that from happening to you.

So he did the same thing he had done every night since you moved in. He left the compound to go hunting.

The first night you arrived, he went out for a drink, planning on just having one to calm his nerves. But then he heard a group of young vampires discussing the strung out looking pregnant woman walking the streets at night. And when they wondered what a pregnant woman's blood would taste like... Well they didn't stand a chance after that.

It made him feel better, seeing their body parts scattered around him, to smell their blood and have their dead hearts in his hands.

And so on it went, he would stalk the streets of the French Quarter, waiting for anyone to dare mention you or the baby. It didn't matter who, why or even where, they would never get a chance to speak again.

Every night he would return, his hunger sated, and he would climb into bed with you. You were still sound asleep and unaware of what he was doing. He would pull you close to him, and listen to the soft rhythmic beat of your heart and the heart of his child. It was the only thing that calmed him, and it helped him drift off into a peaceful sleep.

But that night you woke, the baby was kicking and it made you feel nauseous. You got up to go to the bathroom, too groggy to notice Elijah in the shower until you walked in.

You gasped at the sight of him covered in blood, halfway through washing it off of him under the warm water.

He noticed the shocked look on your face, and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist.

"Is that... blood?" You asked, eyeing the pink tint to the water as it disappeared down the drain.

Elijah hesitated, "it's nothing you need to worry about," he insisted.

He wasn't trying to lie or deceive you, he was trying to protect you. He knew it was twisted and wrong, and he would be the first to admit he had a dark side, but he would never want you to see it.

"Why are you covered in blood?" You asked, a feeling of dread settling in the pit of your stomach.

Elijah was not accustomed to answering questions, he was usually the one giving the orders, but you were not one of his siblings. He would tell you the truth, you deserved that.

"It's the blood of those who wish to do us harm," he admitted.

He expected you to be shocked, but the truth was, you weren't. He was a Mikaelson, and a powerful vampire, it was only natural that others would want to hurt him and his family. Hayley had shared with you what happened to her when she gave birth to Hope, you were beyond frightened of it happening to you. Fear is a powerful thing, it can override any sort of morals you may possess.

"And did you kill them?" You asked, looking directly into his eyes.

He nodded, he could see that you were not upset, and he was relieved.

"How many?"

Elijah was slightly taken aback by your curiosity, and it gave him pause.

"A lot," he admitted, his dark eyes flashing in the dim light of the room.

"I know you are afraid, I am too," you said softly, reaching out and touching his face. "I'm afraid of the birth, of our child being in danger," you confessed, "and I'm afraid for you and all the darkness you take on to protect us,"

"I'm doing what I have to," he said softly, covering your hand with his.

"I know," you nodded, leaning closer and resting your forehead against his. "And I am grateful for that, and I trust you, but I don't want you to be consumed by it,"

He wrapped his arms around your waist and held you tight, listening to the gentle beat of your heart and that of your child.

"Let's get you back to bed," he said softly, kissing your forehead.

You were still exhausted, and he wanted you to rest. He helped you back to bed and tucked you in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before heading to his own room.

From that night on he stopped hunting, and spent more time with you. The two of you were becoming closer, but he didn't want you do feel any sort of pressure to be with him. He would be happy with whatever you were comfortable with.

He was plagued by nightmares, visions of you dead in his arms the same way Hayley was, and he woke up in a cold sweat every night. He would climb into bed next to you and pull you close, placing his hand on your bump and waiting for the baby to kick. When the child would move, it was a reassurance that the two of you were alive, and you were safe.

Your eighth month of pregnancy was difficult, and Elijah had become even more attentive. Your ankles were swollen, your back ached, and the baby was a wild one.

But the worst part was the hormones, they were completely out of control. You cried at everything, the commercial about a cute dog, a sad movie, and even a happy song. You were a wreck and it was a struggle just to get through the day.

Hayley, Rebekah and Freya had noticed your increasing distress and decided to throw you a baby shower. It was nice to be surrounded by people that cared about you.

The women of the Mikaelson family understood you more than anyone ever could, and they did their best to make sure you were comfortable. Hayley was especially sympathetic and supportive, having been through it herself.

"The last three months are killer," she laughed, patting your belly.

"Tell me about it," you sighed, watching Rebekah and Freya decorate the courtyard for the upcoming party.

"They are really going all out for this," Hayley laughed, and you could tell she was pleased that the other two were trying to make you feel welcome.

"I think it's more for the baby than me," you giggled, "they love being aunties,"

"Am I an auntie too?" Hayley teased, knowing she wasn't biologically connected, but the baby was still family.

You nodded, and she was beaming with joy.

"Well, i'm excited for Hope to have a little cousin, she needs someone to play with," Hayley smiled, her hand still resting on your belly.

You were both startled by a sudden sharp movement from the baby, and laughed.

"Well, this one will definitely keep her on her toes," you laughed.

The party was extravagant to say the least, it was more of a ball than a baby shower. Klaus had invited every faction of the supernatural world and there was an assortment of vampires, witches and wolves mingling together.

Klaus and Elijah decided to take an entirely different approach to your pregnancy and the impending birth than the one they had with Hayley.

They knew not to repeat the mistakes they made the first time and wanted to foster peace and harmony among the factions.

Elijah was on edge, his nightmares becoming increasingly worse, and he was struggling to find a way to ease his anxieties.

He would have preferred not to have this party, but he was overridden by the rest of his family.

He knew it was important, a sign of good faith and acceptance. But his mind was plagued with the past and the pain and suffering that came from that. He wanted to forget the horrors and the violence and the blood, and focus on the future and the new life that was coming.

He dove head first into the politics, spending the evening schmoozing and talking business with the representatives of each faction. It was the only way for him to feel calm and in control, and it kept his mind from drifting into darker corners.

"Are you okay?"

His thoughts were interrupted by you, and the sound of your voice calmed him. You had come over to him and was holding his hand, looking concerned.

You looked so beautiful, your hair in soft curls, your belly protruding from a flowy blue dress. You were round and glowing and a perfect picture of motherhood.

"Of course," he assured you, squeezing your hand and taking a sip of his drink.

You were worried about him, he seemed distant and preoccupied.

"It's too much isn't it? This party," you asked, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the crowds.

"No," he shook his head, "it's wonderful," he forced a smile, not wanting to worry you.

"If you want to leave, we can," you offered, feeling uncomfortable, and not wanting him to be either.

He kissed the side of your head, a gesture that made you blush. "This is for the baby, and I will not deny the baby anything,"

Elijah had always been a bit affectionate towards you, but he never overstepped his bounds and you were unsure of how to handle it. You enjoyed his presence, but it was getting a little confusing.

You were a bit flustered, and excused yourself, going to find some air outside. Elijah watched as you walked away and was tempted to follow, but he had his hands full, trying to talk the wolves out of challenging a vampire for a perceived slight.

You leaned against the balcony, letting the cool air calm your nerves.

"How's it going?" Said a party goer, you weren't sure what faction they were a part of, but they seemed a little drunk.

"Fine," you said, not wanting to be bothered.

"Pregnant with a Mikaelson, that's some shit luck," he snorted, clearly intoxicated.

"Excuse me?" You scoffed, wondering why this was a topic of discussion.

"I mean, there are three benefits to fucking vampires," he began, holding his hand up to count them, "one, no diseases, two, usually really good in bed and three, no pregnancies,"

He began to laugh, and you felt angry and defensive.

"I would appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut," you warned, not wanting to hear the drunken ramblings of an idiot.

"Was it worth one and maybe two to not have the third?" He laughed, clearly not getting the hint.

You were furious, and you went to walk away, but he grabbed your arm. "Lemme touch your belly, I wonder how strong a Mikaelson kicks," he laughed.

Before you could react Elijah appeared and had the drunk man by the throat. A crowd of party goers gathered to watch the scene.

Elijah was completely overcome by his rage, the fear in your eyes when the man grabbed you took him right back into his endless nightmares. A small part of him knew he should let the man go, but he couldn't, he was consumed by the thought that if he let go, he would lose you, and that was unacceptable.

He squeezed tighter and the man gagged, clawing at his hands and begging for mercy. The crowd gasped in horror as Elijah's eyes went black and veins crawled across his face.

"To anyone here who thinks it's okay to touch her, let this be an example of the fate you await," he snarled.

"Elijah!" You yelled, but it was too late.

The man was dead, and his head fell from his body.

You stood in shock, the entire party was silent, and Elijah dropped the body and turned towards you. He was shaking, and his eyes returned to their normal color, the veins disappearing from his face.

He turned to the crowd, projecting his voice loud and clear. "Do I make myself clear?" He growled, looking at the faces of everyone around him.

The room was full of fearful nods, and the crowd slowly dispersed.

Elijah took your hand, leading you out of the courtyard and towards his room.

You followed without a word, still in shock. He closed the door behind you and you sat down on his bed.

"Are you alright?" He asked, kneeling in front of you, his hands on your bump.

You nodded, and placed your hands over his.

"You have to understand," he began, and you could hear the strain in his voice, "when he touched you, when I saw his hands on you, I..."

He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, "I can't- I won't. Lose you."

"It's okay," you soothed, placing a hand on his cheek.

Elijah could hardly control his emotions, the fear and anguish was too much, and he let out a sob, pulling you into his arms and holding you tight.

You cradled his head in your hands and held him close, whispering sweet words and letting him know it was okay.

He was the strongest person you had ever known, and seeing him like this made your heart break.

"Shhh," you soothed, kissing the top of his head, "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere,"

You felt his grip loosen, and his breathing became more steady.

"It's okay," you repeated, placing soft kisses on his cheek and forehead, and moving to his lips.

You hadn't kissed in nearly 8 months, not since the night you had made love and conceived the baby. But you felt him return the kiss, and he wrapped his arms around you.

He was hesitant and unsure of how you would respond. You had been together once, but things had been complicated and stressful. But he wanted to show you just how much he loved you.

He pulled away, searching your eyes, and finding only compassion and acceptance.

"I'm hoping we can try again, to be together, if you will have me," he whispered, brushing a lock of hair out of your face.

You leaned into his touch, and he was hopeful that you would want the same.

"Of course," you agreed, pressing a soft kiss against his lips, and running your fingers through his hair.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other and enjoying the moment. It was peaceful and the first time Elijah had truly felt at ease in months.

The day of the birth was finally upon you, and you were nervous and in pain. Freya and Hayley were at your side, holding your hand and trying to keep you calm as they helped you through your labor.

Elijah was pacing in the hallway, anxious and on edge. He had been a wreck, barely able to eat or sleep, and it was obvious to the entire family.

He stopped, listening to you moan and groan and hiss in pain. He wished he could take it all away, and felt a wave of guilt wash over him.

"Why don't you go be with her," Rebekah suggested, putting a hand on her brothers shoulder.

"She doesn't want me in there," he sighed, he had tried, and you had pushed him out, not wanting him to see you like this.

"She's in pain, she's probably not thinking clearly," Rebekah insisted, "trust me, she wants you in there,"

Elijah wasn't sure, but he couldn't handle not being near you any longer, so he went in, ready to be rejected.

You were in bed, sweating and panting and groaning. Hayley was holding your hand and Freya was using a spell to soothe your pain.

You opened your eyes, and saw him, and reached out for him, and he ran to your side, taking your other hand in his.

"You are doing so well," he said softly, his voice full of love.

"I can't," you groaned, feeling as though you couldn't go on.

"Yes, you can," he encouraged, kissing your knuckles.

You were in agony, but his touch and his voice were like a balm to your soul, and it gave you strength.

Rebekah was right, having him next to you was the best thing in the world, and it helped you through the hours of labor.

Finally, the moment came, and you screamed as you gave one final push. The room was filled with the sound of a crying infant and you collapsed back against the pillows.

"It's a boy!" Freya announced, cutting the umbilical cord and wrapping the baby up, passing him over to you.

"Oh my goodness," you cried, tears of joy running down your face as you looked down at the precious life in your arms.

"A boy," Elijah whispered, staring at his son in awe. He reached out and placed his hand on his sons head, feeling the soft downy hair.

"He's beautiful," Hayley commented, admiring the little bundle.

"Just like his father," you smiled, and Elijah kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you and your new baby.

You were exhausted, but ecstatic, and Elijah couldn't help but feel pride and joy. He had helped create such a perfect and precious creature. Out of all of his darkness came something pure and beautiful, and he would do anything to protect his son.

As the night went on the others left, leaving you and Elijah alone with the baby. The both of you couldn't take your eyes off of him.

"We need to decide on a name," you said softly, stroking the babies face with your finger.

"I think," Elijah began, watching the baby squirm and wriggle, "he should be named after his uncle Henrik,"

"That's perfect," you smiled, a tear running down your cheek, "Henry,"

"Henry," Elijah repeated, looking at his son, "I'm your father, and I promise to always love and protect you,"

"I will love you, until the end of time," you whispered, placing a soft kiss on Henry's tiny nose.

Henry let out a little squeak and yawned, and you and Elijah laughed. He was the most perfect thing you and Elijah had ever seen, and the two of you couldn't stop smiling.

Life at the compound was hectic, with Hope and Henry underfoot. Elijah was always watching the babies, making sure they were safe and happy. He was a wonderful father and uncle, and it made you fall in love with him even more.

The two of you were utterly exhausted new parents and Rebekah insisted that the two of you take a break and spend a little time together. She convinced you and Elijah to let her care for Henry for a weekend, while the two of you got away.

It was hard for both of you, you had never been apart from him for more than a few hours, but the two of you needed the time alone.

"Just go, have fun," Rebekah had encouraged, taking Henry from Elijah, "you both need a break,"

The drive was long, but Elijah's company made it go by faster, and you finally arrived at the cabin.

"I hope this is okay," Elijah said, helping you out of the car.

"It's perfect," you assured him, it was cozy and private, and the view was spectacular.

The two of you walked inside, and took in the surroundings. It was a large cabin, with a beautiful stone fireplace and a big open kitchen. Elijah started the fire as you cooked dinner, the two of you fully in sync.

It was easy having him as a partner, and you felt relaxed and at home. The only thing missing from your lives was sex. Once Henry arrived it was a constant state of exhaustion and there wasn't much room for romance.

You thought back to the night Henry was conceived, and how passionate and hot the experience was. But you were nervous to do it again, the pregnancy had changed your body, and you weren't sure how he would react.

After dinner you cuddled up with him on the couch, his arm around your shoulder and your head resting on his chest. He kissed the top of your head and smiled.

"I've missed this," he said softly, playing with a loose strand of your hair.

"Me too," you admitted, running your hand up and down his arm.

He took a deep breath, and you could tell he was nervous about something.

"Is everything okay?" You asked, turning to look at him.

"Yes," he nodded, his brown eyes meeting yours, "I just...want you to know that I am completely in love with you, and I will do anything to make you happy,"

You blushed, and looked away, not sure what to say.

"And I know our relationship has been a bit unconventional," he continued, his voice low, "but I would like to court you, if you will allow me,"

"Court me?" You chuckled, "darling, I think you are doing this all backwards,"

"Perhaps," he laughed, taking your hand in his, "I couldn't ask for a better mother for my child, and a more devoted companion,"

You smiled, and leaned in, kissing him, and the spark was still there. He kissed back, cupping your face with his hands and pulling you onto his lap. His hands roamed your body and your breath hitched when he ran them up your thighs.

"Is this okay?" He asked, stopping, and looking up at you.

You nodded, and pressed your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding against him. He groaned and gripped your hips, guiding them to move with his.

You could feel his growing erection, and the friction against your core made you moan. You had missed this, and could hardly believe you had waited so long.

He picked you up and carried you to the bedroom, laying you down and crawling on top of you, his lips never leaving yours.

You ran your fingers through his hair, and his hands traveled up your shirt, caressing your skin and cupping your breast.

You felt a bit self-conscious, your body was different now, and he hadn't seen it. You didn't want him to be disappointed, but you knew he wouldn't judge you.

"Darling, are you alright?" He asked, pulling away, "we can stop,"

"No," you shook your head, and sat up, "it's just, I'm a little nervous,"

"About?" He asked, furrowing his brows.

"My body," you admitted, "it's different now, and I know it's stupid, but I'm worried,"

He gave you a knowing look, and pulled your dress up over your head. You body was different, your breasts fuller, your hips wider, stretch marks across your belly and thighs.

"These scars are nothing to be ashamed of," he began, kissing the stretch marks across your stomach, "they show your strength and the fact that you brought a beautiful and healthy baby into the world,"

"Elijah," you blushed, not used to hearing him speak so openly about your body.

"These breasts, they have nourished our son. These hips, they carried and protected him," he continued, his hands on your body, caressing every inch.

"I have no words for how beautiful you are," he concluded, his eyes full of lust, "may I continue?"

You nodded, and he pulled his shirt off, exposing his chiseled torso. You ran your hands over his shoulders, tracing his muscles, and down his chest.

He trailed his lips up to your breasts, gently kissing them and sucking your nipples. He was gentle and slow, and it felt incredible. They were extra sensitive from breastfeeding, and his touch sent a shock straight to your core.

He slowly removed your underwear, his eyes raking over your naked body. He kissed every inch of your skin, loving every part of you.

His lips traveled down your belly, and settled between your legs. His tongue moved expertly against your clit, and you gasped, grabbing the sheets.

He hummed contently, missing the taste of you, and wanting to please you. His hands held your thighs, and his tongue teased and swirled.

You moaned and arched your back, it had been so long and you were so close already. He knew just how to get you there, and it only took a few minutes for him to bring you over the edge.

He didn't stop, and continued, sucking and licking, bringing you to orgasm again and again. Your head was spinning, and you could hardly breath, but it felt amazing.

Finally he stopped, and kissed his way up your body, until his lips met yours.

"You deserve a reward for being such a perfect mother," he smiled, his voice full of pride.

You smiled, and kissed him again, running your hands down his chest and stopping at his waistband.

"Now I think it's your turn," you whispered, unbuttoning his pants.

He smiled and watched your face as you underdressed him. His cock sprung free, and you stroked it, running your hand up and down the shaft. Looking into his eyes as he kneeled over you, his eyes heavy and filled with lust.

"It's been so long, I missed your touch," he growled, his voice husky.

"I've missed this too," you replied, stroking him and running your thumb over the tip.

He kissed you slowly and deeply, moaning as your hands worked him. His tongue explored your mouth, and you felt him twitch and throb in your hands.

"Hold on," he said softly, moving away from you.

He got up and rummaged around his bag, coming back with a condom.

"I've never used one of these before," he said sheepishly, and it was the most adorable thing.

You laughed and sat up, taking the foil packet and opening it, rolling it over his cock and kissing him.

"Now, where were we?" You smirked, laying back down.

He crawled back on top of you, lining his cock up with your entrance. He was still gentle, but you were ready for him, and the two of you were eager.

He pushed in, and it felt like the first time, hot and tight. He took his time, pushing in a bit at a time and allowing you to adjust.

Once he was fully inside, he waited a moment, kissing you, and savoring the feeling of being joined with you.

You moved your hips, signaling him to move, and he complied, thrusting slowly and deeply.

The two of you rocked back and forth, the soft sound of skin against skin filling the air. He moved with the perfect rhythm, hitting the right spot with every thrust.

His mouth was on your neck, leaving love bites, and his hands were on your hips, gripping tightly.

"I love you," he groaned, his voice strained.

"I love you too," you moaned, feeling yourself getting close.

You never wanted this to end, a part of you longing for even more than what you already had. You looked into his eyes, feeling the way his body connected with yours so perfectly.

Your orgasm rushed over you, and you squeezed him so hard he pulled out for moment, his cock resting on your stomach. He looked down at you, your pupils blown with love and lust.

"Do you want to make a sibling for Henry?" You said softly, toying gently with the tip of the condom, searching his eyes for an answer.

"Is that something you want?" He asked, looking down at you with pure love.

"Yes," you nodded, "I want another baby, I want a whole family with you,"

He kissed you in response, then smiled down at you, his eyes shining with happiness.

"I will give you anything you want," he whispered.

You pulled the condom off slowly, both of you panting heavily. He looked down, watching as your hands wrapped around his bare cock, pumping up and down, spreading the precum over the head.

You lined him back up, and he pushed back in, his breath catching as he eased his way into your warm and wet heat.

You could feel him throbbing inside of you, his length twitching and swelling as he got closer. He moaned, and rested his forehead against yours, his eyes shut tight.

"I want you to cum inside me," you whispered, knowing he was close.

You could feel yourself getting close, and his breath was labored, his hips grinding against yours, your wetness coating him.

His hips snapped, and his hands gripped the sheets, and with one final thrust he came, filling you up and pushing you over the edge.

He kissed you as he came down, his cock still pulsing as he softened inside of you. He hummed happily, keeping you connected as he rolled you on your side.

You curled up against him, and kissed him, and he pressed his hand gently against your stomach, imagining a tiny being forming inside.

"I always wanted a family of my own," he said softly, nuzzling into you, "thank you for giving me that,"

You squeezed him tighter, understanding the weight of his words. He had given you everything, love, devotion, a family. It was everything you ever wanted. He had helped you become the happiest and the best version of yourself and you did the same for him.

The two of you laid there, cuddled up against each other, safe and content. Tomorrow would bring a new adventure, but right now everything was perfect.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog

[forhappysake]

Fluffy Surprise

Author's Note: Not proofread and the first fic I've written in like six months so read if you dareeee

Summary: Reader decides to give Spencer a present when he returns to their new home.

Warnings: People with cat allergies, beware! (?) Fluff ofc.

You moved into the new house two weeks ago.  Technically, you moved all your stuff into the new house two weeks ago. In boxes. Lots and lots of heavy boxes.

Spencer had come up with a system, labeling each box with the room it would go into at the new house. You had worked together to pack everything, label each box, and unload the boxes into your new home. 

And it seemed like the moment he set the last box down and you were ready to start setting the place up, his phone rang. 

Spencer had been gone for one week. 

The case was halfway across the country, somewhere in Santa Fe. You couldn’t exactly be mad at him for being gone, but unpacking and trying to organize everything without his input was a nightmare. You were finishing the last box in your shared bedroom, carefully placing his clothes on wooden hangers and organizing them in the closet, when your phone rang. 

Spencer’s name lit up the screen. You answered quickly. 

“Hi, Spence,” you said, plopping down on the freshly made bed.

You could tell how tired he was from the long pause he took before responding. “Hey, honey. How’s the unpacking?” he asked with a small sigh. 

You frowned to yourself, worried about how tired he sounded. “Oh, it’s alright. I’d like you to look through all the rooms when you get home, just to make sure everything is where it should be.” You let out a soft laugh, “I also had a hard time hanging up all the pictures and paintings without you, so we may have to straighten some of them up when you get back.” 

Another pause followed, though this time you could envision him nodding to himself. “We can do that,” he said. “I’m sorry you had to do it all by yourself. I promise I’ll find a way to make it up to you.” 

You rolled your eyes. “It was fine, Spencer. Besides, I’m pretty sure chasing a serial killer or something gives you an excuse.” 

He sighed on the other end of the line. “That’s what I wanted to talk about. We caught the unsub this evening. I’m hoping to be home late this evening, but it probably won’t be until after you go to bed.”

You smiled, content with the thought of him coming home to your freshly decorated home. “Oh, I’ll be staying up. I want to see your reaction to the place.”

“Alright,” he said, clearly too tired to urge you to go to bed instead with a list of facts about the health benefits of a good night’s sleep. 

You sighed. “As much as I'd love to stay and chat, I’ve got about fifteen more boxes to go.” 

“I understand. I should probably get some work done, too. Files, reports, you know how it is,” his voice was barely a whisper now, the exhaustion beginning to get the better of him. 

“Don’t work too hard, Spence,” you cautioned. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. I love you.”

“I won’t. I love you too,” he answered. The end of his line promptly went dead.

You looked around the bedroom, discarding your phone on the bed. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was something you could do to make Spencer’s return home a bit more special. 

You sat up and leaned over, furrowing your brow and resting your head in the palm of your hand as you tried to think of things Spencer liked. Of course, Spencer liked a lot of things. He liked sweet coffee, puzzles, and a classic novel in some foreign language you couldn’t comprehend. 

None of those things were overly special, in your mind. As you sat and wracked your brain, a thought finally came to you. 

One month ago, walking by a local cat cafe, Spencer spotted the most beautiful calico. She had fluffy hair, one black ear, one orange. Her little paws were white and she was so well mannered. Spencer and yourself had gone in immediately and he had spent your time inside doting on the calico, whose name, you learned, was Calypso. 

You bolted up from the bed and out into the living room, finding your purse sitting among the unpacked boxes. You shot out to the car, and without a second thought, drove the ten minutes to the cat cafe. 

You said a silent prayer that the cat was still available as you pulled into a parking space across the street. As if on cue, you looked up to see the same cat lounging lazily in the window sill, green eyes poised on you. 

The adoption process was quick, quicker than you anticipated. Fifty dollars later, you were on the road with Calypso in the passenger seat, sitting demurely in the carrier the shelter had provided you with to take her home in. 

On the way home you had to stop at PetSmart to pick up a litter box, a few toys, and a scratching post with the hope that your new furry friend would not decimate your new furniture. Calypso remained in the carrier, watching quietly from the shopping cart as you agonized over which treats to get. 

Soon enough, you were on your way home. The moment you walked through the front door, you set the carrier down and allowed Calypso to wander free. She was tentative at first, gently sniffing the floor and getting the feel for her new surroundings. However, after ten minutes, she perched herself on the kitchen counter, looking quite like the queen of her own castle. 

You took this chance to open her new toys and scatter them about the house, as well as find a secluded corner for her litterbox.

For the rest of the day, the cat watched you unpack boxes. Beady green eyes noting your movements until you disappeared from her sight. Occasionally, if you left the room for too long, you would turn to find that she had followed you. In these moments, you would stop to offer her a gentle petting and giggle as she flopped down on the floor, furry belly up to the sky. 

It was six hours after his phone call that Spencer arrived at home. 

2:19 a.m. was the time on your watch when you heard the lock turn and rose to greet him at the door. Calypso, seated in the corner of the room on a side table, perked her ears up at the new noise coming from the entrance. 

Spencer locked the door behind him and turned to face you, reaching out and pulling you in for a long hug. 

You rubbed your hands up and down his back. “Are you happy to be home?” you asked, your voice muffled by his shoulder. 

“You have no idea,” he said. He pulled away only to examine the living room. Spencer nodded in approval. “It looks really good in here. You did a great job.”

You smiled warmly, nerves settling in your stomach as you realized he’d not yet noticed the cat in the corner of the room, who was still watching him with suspicious eyes. 

“Spencer, I have to tell you something,” you said, wanting to explain yourself for doing something as impulsive as adopting a cat while he was away. 

His face suddenly became very serious. “What is it? Did something happen while I was gone? Are you alright?” 

The questions came quickly and you shook your head to reassure him. “No, Spencer, it’s nothing bad. Here, come look.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him forward until the two of you were standing behind your couch in the middle of the living room. 

“Look around,” you said. 

Spencer’s tired eyes traversed the room. You watched as they landed on paintings, the television, the clock, and nearly everything but the cat who sat entirely still in the corner. 

“I don’t understand,” he said, brow furrowed. “Did you make some major change I don’t know about? If you did, I’m sure that it’s f-”

At that moment Calypso jumped off the side table. The soft thump that accompanied her landing on the floor was enough to stop Spencer in his tracks. Finally, you watched as the feline caught his eye. 

“You didn’t,” Spencer said, his voice barely above a whisper. His reaction wasn’t telling you much, and you were afraid that he was not pleased. 

You started trying to explain yourself. “Well, I knew that you had a long week. I wanted to do something special. I know how much you enjoyed spending time with her at the cafe and now that we have the space I figured…”

You trailed off. In the time you had spoken, Calypso had crossed the room, climbed the couch, and began butting her head up against Spencer’s hand. Panic was setting in. Why wasn’t he reacting? 

Just when you were about to push him to say something, you looked up to see a large grin plastered on his face. Spencer gently wrapped his arms around the cat and picked her up, holding her close and petting in between her ears. 

“This is the most thoughtful present ever. I love her,” he said. His excitement reminded you of a little child and pulled at your heartstrings in a way that could have made you cry. 

You sighed in relief. “I’m so glad.” 

With Calypso still draped over one arm, Spencer reached out for you, pulling you to his side. He planted a soft kiss on the top of your head. “Thank you so much. I love her. I love you,” he said, smile still evident on his face. 

“I love you too,” you said, turning to face Calypso, who looked all too content to be wrapped up in Spencer’s arms. 

“I think she’s trying to steal my man,” you joked, nudging Spencer on the side. 

Spencer laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry too much about that. My heart has room for two lovely ladies.”

[universallydestinytaco]

The Little Smiling Mermaid (Chapter 6)

🌊 THANK YOU to all my 150 followers! Sorry, I didn’t get to draw an illustration this week BUT the wonderful @oskidontle had blessed me with this lovely fanart of Mer!Pim (thank you again), Please follow them and check out their own awesome Smiling Mermaids AU!✨

Charlie and Mipnessa got along swimmingly enough for two people who just met each other that day…unless, Charlie pondered, if they just-so happen to have already met! Charlie took note of how Mipnessa vaguely resembled the mystery person of whom he recalled rescuing him that morning…and while he wasn’t quite sure at first, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to try and potentially refresh her memory; He also had a string gut feeling that it wouldn’t be wise to potentially out her as one of the elusive merfolk out of politeness….if not being proven wrong and labeled as a silly-hearted daydream-believer. Charlie ran back to his quarters to swipe the green cloak that was left behind to gently fold it up, then he started rummaging through his closet for a perfectly-sized decorative shoebox to place inside of as a grandiose gesture to Mipnessa before running back to bequeath the gift. “Y’know I have a funny hunch that this is something you’d totally look great in.” The flattered Mipnessa giggled in response: “Showering me with gifts already? You must take a fancy to me.” Feeling overwhelmed with butterflies in his stomach, Charlie blushed with a nervous grin. Mipnessa opened the box and held up the cloak, while she admired the deep emerald green shade, she couldn’t exactly pinpoint what fabric was used for it or could she figure out why it smelled like the brine of clam chowder. “It’s beautiful, and it matches my dress way better than the shawl I’m wearing too.” Charlie replied with a fairly obvious double-meaning: “A match made in heaven.” as he held her hand and proposed: “Perfect for an atmospheric afternoon-to-evening stroll, lemme show you to the outskirts of the palace, the sunset views are amazing out there!”

Meanwhile, Alan had just caught up with the rest of the party as an eagerly-lovestruck Pim alongside a curious Glep followed Graham Nelly to the crisp shore nearby Prince Charlie’s castle. “I can’t wait to see his cute face again!” Pim squealed in delight while fidgeting his hands, Alan sternly reminded him with a business-like tone to mask his anxiety: “We’re here to fetch back your cloak, so that nobody could recognize you and drag you back to that toxic, discourse-infested mess of a palace; We also really shouldn’t stay up here for too long lest we want to be some crazed stowaway’s four-course meal.” Pim’s glee briefly turned into annoyance as he was tempted to roll his eyes at his paranoid friend’s repetitive jargon had it not been for the fact that unlike his family, Alan’s “survival mode”-demeanor was out of genuine concern and love rather than blind bigotry over land folk. When the group made it to their destination, they would come to find that much to their surprise, Charlie was indeed out-and-about, bringing an unexpected guest with him for a neat little walk by the sparkling sapphire waves. While the party of sea critters hid behind the conveniently large rock while observing the scene from a far, they all quickly took notice that the lady accompanying Charlie was wearing an accessory all too familiar to Pim, who shook his head in disbelief before taking another look to find that Charlie was clearly flirting with with her as well. While Alan started discussing a plan to swipe the cloak with Graham, Glep took notice how his buddy Pim was doing. “My cloak…” Pim quietly uttered while overwhelmed with a flurry of mixed emotions, flashing between shock, confusion, hurt feelings and jealously all boiling down into unbridled fury. Glep never saw Pim this angry since that time he was just a teenager and his sister Amy tore the lock on his diary and blurted out all his secrets, including who he was crushing on at the time. Something REALLY must have struck a cord with the usually understanding and compassionate mercritter…

Graham proposed: “We could, like, wrangle a bunch of dolphins together to create a huuuuge wave and splash it right on her so that Prince guy can offer to hang it up for her and when they leave we can snag it from a clothes line, concrete plan!” Alan argued in a snippy-yet-monotone inflection: “Yeah but there’s no clothes line anywhere near water, besides, it would take us all night to achieve that plan anyways.” Graham then got another bright idea: “I know JUST the thing, dude. I have in my collection and it’s this neat tool called a grappling hook! It’s what land folks use to retrieve items from far-away.“ Alan rolled his eyes with an exasperated yawn. “Oh really? Go off I guess.” Graham happily explained: “It’s this long-ass stick with a string attached and at the end of the string it’s a hook! and you toss it far enough and the hook catches-“ he was cut off by a loud, panicked gasp from the horrified Alan, who furiously chided Graham while using his claws as gestures to express his disgust: “You keep a literal weapon used for catching and eating our kind?!! What in Davy Jones’ locker is the matter with you?!” Graham casually shrugged, replying: “I’ve only ever seen something like this being used to catch fish only to throw them back, like they kept catching fish but it’s obvious that she was trying to retrieve something she lost down there.” Alan stood there dumbfounded with his left eye twitching for a few seconds, until he broke silence with a sigh with one claw on his face, “Look, It would just be easier for one of us to sneak up to that lady and quietly snag the cloak away from her.” Graham cheered: “That’s it!” Alan realized exactly what he had in mind and groaned: “Alright, I understand now that I have to put my big-boy shell on.” Glep piped up: “Eskewazebewaboyo!”, Pim’s face perked up at the suggestion. Graham agreed: “Hell yeah! They’ll be too distracted to notice Alan, they’ll be all like: Oh, where is that heavenly sound coming from? Ha! It’ll be a synch!” Alan gulped, “Well, here goes nothing.”

During the conversions Charlie ignited while subtly prying for clues, he had realized that Mipnessa wasn’t the mystery critter. First off, she knew how to swim but preferred to go sailing over swimming. Second she does sing but her voice was rather different from what he had in mind BUT she did play the lute well. Lastly and most glaringly obvious of all was that she had just embarked on Eustace’s ship at the same time the rescue took place and was still miles away from Gremblonia. That being said, Charlie was perfectly content with having Mipnessa as a bride, she may have not been an exotic dream girl but she was a charmingly meek and proper lady whose lute could harmonize well with his ocarina! “You know Mipnessa, I could take you sailing on our ship and go on one of my wild adventures out at sea, maybe we’ll take on a kraken or get into a gang fight with pirates.” Charlie proposed in a suave tone, in response Mipnessa sheepishly loosened up the green cloak ‘round her shoulders, replying: “…y’know, maybe I would like that.” for a brief moment that felt like forever, the two locked eyes and gazed at each other’s presence for what felt like forever. As the sunset started melting into nighttime, the most angelic voice made it’s way to the couple’s eardrums, snapping them out of their trance. Charlie started running around frantically looking for the sound as Mipnessa’s curiosity peaked, joining him as she didn’t pay any mind to Alan’s pincer clinging onto the cloak slipping off of her shoulders. Once the cloak was freed from Mipnessa’s grasp, Alan scurried back fast he could before they’d notice. Meanwhile back behind “home base”, Pim peaking behind as he vocalized his feelings with a warm, sweet a capella with a noticeable tang of seductive amour and just a hint of bitter jealousy; This was Pim’s subtly, classy way of saying out-loud: “That boy is MINE, you got nothing on me you basic bitch!!”. Just as Alan made it to just inches away from water, the lobster tripped on a pebble and got tangled up in the shawl and tried to wriggle his way out. Pim took notice, stopped what he was doing and immediately swam to the scene to finish the job.

Just then Mipnessa realized something was missing. “Oh dear, my cloak!” Charlie blushed upon seeing Mipnessa’s curvy frame accentuated by her sleeveless dress, but quickly snapped out of it. “D-don’t worry, it’s probably back where we left off.” Charlie stumbled back to where he and Mipnessa where viewing the sunset, what he discovered was more than just the cloak itself: it was none other than the mystery critter who rescued him, half-submerged in water while clad in a seashell bra, freeing what looked like a lobster that somehow got trapped inside before taking back what was rightfully theirs. Charlie stood there and froze in shock, asking himself if he was just seeing things or he was trapped in some sort of dream, as he rubbed his eyes in disbelief, the mystery critter already vanished. A tinge of guilt filled Charlie’s heart, as he wished he could have apologized for giving her cloak away, but his thoughts broke as Mipnessa was calling for him to return. Charlie ran back and tried to explain what happened but all that came out was nervous gibberish that Mipnessa initially assumed was Spammish, until he blurted: “Damn lobster made off with the cloak!!” while shaking his fist. Mipnessa giggled: “Duke Eustace was right, you are a washed-up mess of a boy!” Charlie once again froze, embarrassed, until she nudged him a with a smile and reassurance: “At least you’re not some stuck-up old prune.”

~ Damien (and the rest of the search party) spent two days looking for Pim with a nagging conscience, he swore to Neptune if he found his littlest sibling, he’d work hard on being a better brother overall. Ironically, he found a patch of sea flowers to rest upon for the night, just as he was about to lie down he saw a short, cloaked figure picking the flowers, presumably for herbal use. “Pimberly, is that you?!” All he got in response was the laughter belonging to an elderly-sounding sea critter. “Oh deary, I’m afraid I’m not the lost Princess, I’m just an old botanist making medicine.” Damien’s heart sank, his pink skin turning grey at the reveal. “But, I have seen Princess Pimberly ‘round these corners.” Damien’s eyes widened with relief, begging: “Please, tell me where!” The old wisenheimer gave a concerning hint: “I’ve seen the Princess swimming in-and-out of this grotto hauling a satchel full of the most WORTHLESS crap!” Damien pressed for more answers: “So, where is this grotto?”

🐚

Chapter 7 Coming August 9th

[alchemistoftheend]

Do not Open (Case #9982211)

Pre-Statement

Statement of Joshua Gillespie, regarding his time in possession of an apparently empty wooden casket.

Original statement given November 22, 1998

Date of Event: Unknown (presumably from 95-98)

Statement

At the time of the incident, Joshua and his friends traveled to Amsterdam to celebrate their graduation from University

they spent most of the trip under the influence

One morning (mid-May), Josh wandered alone and got lost in the backstreets of the city

After finding his way back, he visited at a café; when it was dark, he noticed a man sat across from him

He was very short, clean-shaven, had “brown-ish” hair, and “an odd density” to him

“the more I try to think of exactly what he looked like, the harder it is to picture him clearly” 🤨

He introduced himself as John

claimed to be from Liverpool

however, had no accent

John said he was looking for someone who could watch over a package until a friend could pick it up, offering £10,000

A year later, after moving into single-bedroom flat. A week after the move, he received the package

“I’d not given John any of my details when he spoke to me, not even my name”

Two large delivery man rang the doorbell and addressed him as Gillespie

They were both well over six feet tall and very imposing

Inside the box was a coffin made from unvarnished, yellow wood. There was a a thick metal chain wrapped around it with a padlock and a key inside it, as well as a note and these words scratched into the wood

DO NOT OPEN

Whenever it rained, a soft, melodious moaning, almost like singing, muffled by deep soil emanated from the coffin

the coffin seems to have effected Josh’s psyche, he’d often wake up to himself trying to open the coffin in his sleep

About 18 months later, delivery man came to collect the coffin

Josh have they back the key and hid int the kitchen not what to see what’s inside

bc when the screaming started, I didn’t want to see who was screaming or why

When they left Josh day they into a small van labeled Breekon and Hope Deliveries

Post Statement/Thoughts

Breekon and Hope did, in fact, exist, and were a courier service that operated until 2009, when they went into liquidation.

Also in those two yrs, Joshua was the only tenant living in his apartment complex

His social life died due to the coffin table (funny puns are in fact funny😉)

If there are any existing records of their deliveries, they’re no longer available

Apparently the delivery men are suspose to be reoccurring character, i think Josh it too

Shout out to Joshua for being the smartest horror character 👍

there’s imagery for the buried when Joshua describes the noise that the coffin made “muffled by deep soil emanated from the coffin”

Joshua’s isolation in those 2 years might be a connection to the lonely

[rightpackersandmovers]

How to Organize and Label Boxes for an Efficient Unpacking Process

Moving can feel overwhelming, especially when it comes to unpacking in your new space. Yet, with a little planning and some smart labeling techniques, you can transform your unpacking process from chaotic to calm. Here's how to organize and label boxes effectively, so you can settle in with ease.

1. Sort Items by Room and Type

Before you even think about labeling, start with categorizing. Sorting items by the room they belong to helps prevent mix-ups and makes unpacking more systematic. Here are some steps to follow:

Identify Each Room’s Essentials: Make a list of what each room needs. For example, kitchen items include utensils, cookware, and pantry supplies, while the bedroom will need linens, personal items, and clothing.

Separate Seasonal and Occasional Items: If certain items are not immediately needed (like winter clothes during a summer move), group them together for easy storage at your new place.

Consider Fragility and Frequency of Use: Put fragile items like glassware in clearly marked boxes and group frequently used items separately so they can be unpacked first.

2. Use a Color-Coding System

Color-coding is one of the easiest ways to differentiate boxes. You can do this with colored markers, labels, or even tape.

Assign Colors by Room: Choose a color for each room (like green for the kitchen, blue for the bedroom, yellow for the bathroom, etc.). Use corresponding colors on each box that belongs in that room.

Apply Labels Prominently: Stick color-coded labels on at least two sides of each box, so you can see them from multiple angles.

Create a Key for Quick Reference: Place a color key on the door of each room in the new home, so anyone helping you move will know where each color goes.

3. Label Each Box by Contents and Priority

While color-coding indicates the room, descriptive labels let you know exactly what’s inside each box. This is especially helpful when you need to prioritize what to unpack first.

Itemize the Contents: Be specific, labeling boxes with more than just “kitchen” or “bedroom.” For instance, label boxes as “Kitchen – Pots and Pans,” or “Bedroom – Winter Clothes.”

Mark Essentials and Priorities: Use a numbering system or words like "Unpack First" for essential boxes with items you’ll need right away. Place these labels near the color-coded area so you can quickly identify which ones to open first.

4. Consider Clear Boxes for Special Items

If you have transparent bins, consider using them for items you need right away or for frequently-used essentials. Clear boxes offer visibility, making it easy to find what you need without opening each box. This method can work well for bathroom items, kitchen utensils, or office supplies.

5. Include Room-Layout Plans

It might sound a bit extra, but a room layout plan can be a game-changer.

Sketch Simple Layouts: For rooms with multiple cabinets or large closets, sketch a layout plan that shows where specific items should go.

Place Plans on Top of Boxes: Tape these plans to the inside of the boxes meant for each room. When you unpack, the sketch will serve as a guide, saving you time and making setup efficient.

6. Protect Fragile and High-Value Items

Fragile items need extra care, and labeling alone isn’t enough. Take the following precautions:

Use Special Markings: Write "Fragile" in large, bold letters on boxes containing breakables. Adding "This Side Up" can also prevent mishandling.

Highlight High-Value Items: If you have items with high value, mark the box subtly, like “Bedroom – Important Documents” rather than “Jewelry” to avoid drawing attention.

7. Number Your Boxes for Easy Inventory Tracking

If you’re moving with several boxes per room, numbering them can help keep track of each one.

Create a Simple Inventory List: Write down each box number along with a short description of its contents. You can use a notebook or a digital app for this.

Cross Off Boxes as You Unpack: As you settle into your new home, check each box off the list once it’s unpacked. This can help you track progress and easily find anything that’s still packed.

8. Plan Unpacking Order by Rooms

Strategic unpacking can make a world of difference in how smoothly you settle in. Here’s a suggested order:

Bedroom: Unpack the bedroom essentials first to ensure you have a comfortable place to sleep.

Bathroom: Unpacking bathroom essentials early allows for easy freshening up as you work.

Kitchen: Organize the kitchen next so you can prepare meals, saving money and avoiding takeout.

Living Areas: The living room and other common areas can be tackled afterward as you gradually settle in.

Storage Spaces Last: Leave garages, attics, and basements for last as these are typically used for occasional items or storage.

[normeacottremovals]

Packing for a Temporary Move: Tips for Short-Term Relocations

Life is full of transitions, and sometimes, we find ourselves embarking on short-term relocations—whether it's for a new job opportunity, educational pursuits, or personal adventures. While these temporary moves bring excitement and new experiences, they also come with the inevitable task of packing up our lives and ensuring a seamless transition to our temporary homes. 

So, whether you're moving across the country for a few months or temporarily settling in a new city, these packing strategies by your professional removalist Central Coast will help you navigate the challenges of a short-term move with ease. 

Make a Detailed Plan

Before you start packing, create a detailed plan that outlines your moving timeline, budget, and a checklist of items you'll need. Identify the duration of your temporary stay and the type of accommodations you'll have, as this will influence your packing decisions. Having a well-thought-out plan will serve as your roadmap throughout the packing process.

Declutter and Downsize

Take this opportunity to declutter your belongings. Moving is the perfect time to assess what you truly need for your temporary stay. Sort through your possessions and decide what to keep, donate, sell, or recycle. Downsizing will make packing and unpacking much easier and reduce the amount of stuff you need to transport.

Essentials First

When packing, it's essential to have immediate access to certain items upon arrival at your new location. Pack a separate box with essential items such as toiletries, a change of clothes, important documents (passport, driver's licence, lease agreement, etc.), and any necessary medications. Label this box as "Essentials" so you can easily find it when you arrive.

Use the Right Packing Supplies

Invest in high-quality packing supplies to protect your belongings during transit. This includes sturdy boxes, packing tape, bubble wrap, packing paper, and packing peanuts. You can often find these materials at local moving supply stores or order them online. Using the right packing supplies will help safeguard your items during the move.

Label Everything

To stay organised during your move, label each box with its contents and the room it belongs to. Consider colour-coding your labels for even more efficient unpacking. This labelling system will save you time and effort when unpacking, as you'll know exactly what's inside each box without having to open them all.

Pack by Category

An effective packing strategy is to organise your items by category or room. For example, pack all your kitchen items together, all your clothes together, and so on. This method simplifies the unpacking process because you can prioritise specific rooms or categories as needed, making it easier to find and access your essentials.

Protect Fragile Items

Fragile items like glassware, ceramics, and electronics require special attention. Wrap fragile items individually in bubble wrap or packing paper and pack them in boxes marked as fragile. Fill any empty spaces in the boxes with packing peanuts or towels to prevent items from shifting during transit. Clearly label these boxes as "Fragile" to ensure they are handled with care.

Use Suitcases and Duffel Bags

Don't forget to utilise your suitcases and duffel bags for packing clothing and personal items. These travel-friendly containers are designed for convenience and mobility, making them a practical choice for items you'll need immediately upon arrival. Suitcases and duffel bags also save space in traditional moving boxes.

Consider Storage Solutions

If you're moving temporarily and won't have enough space for all your belongings at your new location, consider renting a storage unit. A storage unit provides a secure space to store items you won't be using during your temporary stay, such as seasonal clothing, furniture, or excess belongings. This can help declutter your temporary living space and make it more comfortable.

Keep Important Documents Handy

Throughout the moving process, it's crucial to keep important documents secure and easily accessible. Make sure all essential documents, such as identification, passports, insurance papers, and any legal paperwork, are stored in a designated and well-protected folder or box. You may also want to keep digital copies of these documents as a backup.

Packing for a temporary move may seem like a daunting task, but with careful planning and organisation, you can simplify the process and minimise stress. By creating a detailed plan, decluttering your belongings, using the right packing supplies, and staying organised with labelling and categorization, you'll be well-prepared for your short-term relocation. Remember that the key to a successful temporary move is to pack efficiently and focus on the essentials to make your transition as smooth as possible. Whether you're moving for work, school, or any other reason, following these tips will help ensure a hassle-free temporary relocation experience.

[brehaaorgana]

Honestly I think you leapt to a lot of conclusions that made things more daunting and frustrating for you. Or you...didn't understand or fully read what was even said at some points?

What's the rationale for putting your daily toiletries in a bin?

Well the text clearly says "a bin on the counter" and explains the bin is easily moveable so you can quickly wipe down the counter when cleaning and then put everything back. It's not put out of sight where you would forget, it's contained in a bin so it's all in one spot. The bin is so you can clean the counter by only moving one thing instead of everything individually.

You say you can barely fit in your bathroom so adding a hamper inside of it wouldn't work, but then don't seem to understand why many many people don't have the room for a second, separate work/project table in their home that isn't also the dining room table?? Like. That's why people use the dining room table. Because they don't have enough space for a second large flat surface in their home. Just like you feel you don't have space for a hamper in your bathroom?? (They do make smaller over the door cloth hampers, but also you can just put a hamper wherever it is going to work for you. Until my new roommate moved mine without asking, I kept one outside the bathroom which was also next to the washing machine.)

The bookshelf acting as an end table won't fill up with junk if you use small open sorting baskets on the shelves to catch stuff, and keep the trash can there, like suggested. If finding the remote and tissue box is most important then you should put it on the top, because that presumably isn't where you're putting your keys. The solution to an ADHD teenager putting her coat over the back of a chair was a suggested coat rack or wall hook for her coat, and if that doesn't work for you, that's fine.

I really only took some pictures of my book so this isn't everything.

For example, the book also illustrates easy access containers for organizing "stuff" on shelving. This is the "away." It doesn't make dozens of tasks, it's "put in bin. Label later, if that helps."

Or like:

First rule of organizing "inventory must conform to storage." If you constantly have piles of stuff with no away, it might be that you need to purge some items in addition to containerizing them. Hell, I *know* I have too much stuff. Sometimes the problem is I have too many things and the real solution is "get rid of some of my stuff."

"how do I figure out where something ought to be stored/where its home is?"

And so on.

Ultimately every piece of advice I've shared from this book is a) a fraction of the overall book's advice taken from larger context b) explicitly not meant to apply to everyone with ADHD in exactly the same ways in every home and c) adaptable to your differing needs.

The mindset of assuming everything that isn't exactly written to help you specifically seems to have really hindered you though, which probably makes everything feel even more overwhelming. Tbh it may be *more* useful for you to find a professional organizer who works with folks with ADHD and hire them for a session or two so that you can have a precisely tailored experience that can help break through the initial assumed alienation and defeatism. They'll probably also be able to help you more easily translate advice you didn't think could or would apply because it didn't describe the exact thing you experience or concern you have. An outsiders perspective will apply a great deal of flexibility to proposed solutions that would tailor things to your needs & space for you.

From the book Organizing Solutions for People with ADHD:

Putting a coat on the back of a chair by the door is fine, but if you prefer, use coat hooks and a large catch-all basket for dropping keys, hats, gloves.

Small bookcase end-table next to the couch to store craft projects, books, and other things being worked on for easy access.

Add a storage unit near the dining room table to transition between eating and working there.

Daily toiletry items should be stored in a basket that you can move easily

Extra toiletries and medicine cabinet items go in open shelf/basket storage so they can be seen and used easily. If items no longer fit, purge the excess. Don't obscure the view!

If you disrobe in the bathroom, place a tall hamper in there.

Keep a set of cleaning supplies in each bathroom

[apocalypse-shuffle]

HOBIE BROWN | SPIDER-PUNK (atsv)

✎ᝰ — — —

“Brand New Metal” (Hobie Brown & Fem!Reader)

| Hobie helps you pierce your nose.

| SFW, piercing description, needles

| Featuring almost the entirety of my own piercing experience. (Pic source: Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) movie)

| 900+ words

“Wait!”

You pull away for what feels like the hundredth time in five minutes and Hobie’s hand moves outta the way even faster, barely a blur of movement before it’s back within his bubble of space.

“C’mon, Mama, I can’t do this if you keep jumpin’ away from me.”

You shift in place where your butt is planted beside the hard water stained sink. Shoulders dropping you rub your hands down your face.

“I know that,” you grumble.

Problem was, knowing barely qualified as a quarter of the issue, and whoever said knowing was half the battle clearly hadn’t been staring down the point of the thickest needle you’d ever seen in person.

You wave your hand to the metal rod with a grimace. “But look at the size of that thing, Hobes. That’s gotta be overkill.”

Hobie’s accent seems to get thicker as he hits you with a deadpan tone, full brows shading his eyes.

“This’s a twenty gauge needle. I’ve seen you ’old your guts inside you and still make time to bash in some fascists, this’s nothin’.”

In response you flip him off but Hobie - perfectly unfazed - only starts twirling the needle around two latex glad fingers.

His own piercings - of which there were plenty - glint off of the dim yellow lighting of his bathroom like a taunt. Or at least it feels like that to you.

“Look, I already told you piercings ain’t some crucial part of the scene, Mama. You don’t have ta do any of this. It’s all just boxes and labels, the lot of it,” Hobie points the blunt side of the needle at you. “And you know I hate labels.”

“Yeah, Hobes, the whole of Camden knows. Besides, I want it cause I think it looks nice not cause of capitalism’s agenda to make us buy shit instead of looking at whatever human right of the day they’re doing away with,” you shrug and Hobie’s mouth twists to the side for a second before he’s shrugging too.

“Great. Point’s been made then. Pick a struggle.”

“Fuck your struggle,” you frown. “It’ll hurt.”

“Hn,” he scoffs and shakes his head. He’s giving you this narrow look like he’d let you keep this back and forth up for the rest of the day without any complaints though. “Fake ones exist for a reason.”

“Fake ones won’t give me the satisfaction of a real piercing though.”

“The lie that we need to feel pain in order to be worthy of livin’ is also capitalistic propaganda, Luv.”

Now it’s your turn to give him a look; face dropping and one brow rising.

Hobie chuckles.

“Fine.” He grins, sharp. “We both know I know exactly what it is you’re sayin’. I just can’t tell if being an accomplice to yer masochism is fair to me.”

“You wouldn’t deny a woman her creative outlet, would you?”

“S’pose not,” Hobie agrees, taking another alcohol swab and disinfecting the needle again for extra measure.

He eyes you up and down and you smile, fluttering your lashes at him and kicking your heels into his cabinet doors. You needed Hobie to be the one to do this. For one, because you were not going to be able to do this yourself, and for two, because he was really the only person you trusted to puncture a literal hole in your body.

You take a deep breath, now if only you could chill the hell out.

Hobie shakes his head, wicks flopping around and knocking into each other languidly.

“Yer one ‘elluva reluctant participant to this for someone agreein’ they’re a masochist,” he nods to the needle while brandishing it like a knife. He knows you're full of shit, but he’s not about to make your decision for you. “You gotta stop flinching every time light just glints off the needle if you really want this.”

You lock eyes with him, sitting up to your full height and trying not to back away from the metal rod. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the adrenaline rush to kick in.”

“Pretty sure that happens after the pain, yeh?

A huff and your fingers curl over the edge of the counter and squeeze.

“Just…get it over with, Hobie.” You take a deep breath. “Please?”

“Alright alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Hobie eases a hand around your jaw and raises the needle. “You know I’ve got you. Now keep still.”

Another deep breath from you and Hobie meets your eye for a second time.

“On three,” he grunts. With your head in his grasp you can’t physically nod so you use your eyes to convey your agreement.

Hobie takes a breath to start the countdown and you inhale with him. You’ve gotten your ears pierced before, you could do this. It was fine. Plus you’ll have a few seconds to prep yourself before he gets to number three. You got this. You both exhale.

“Three,” he states.

Without a second to spare the needle pierces through the squishy cartilage of your nose and your breath catches in your throat. Instantly tears well in your eyes and your face heats up something fierce - like somebody’s holding a blow dryer on the highest setting up to it with zero mercy. Your joints pop, grasp on the counter growing tighter in your attempt to keep yourself from jerking out of Hobie’s hold. The sheer need to not garner an actual injury from the metal is almost solely what keeps you in place.

This wasn’t like an ear piercing at fucking all. Fuck this septum piercing and fuck Hobie too. What the fuck?

“Ow! You motherfucker!”

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! I only wrote his accent clearly some of the time; you’ll have to forgive me. I was confusing my damn self, okay? I did my best.

Also what I said about how adrenaline works isn’t really correct so don’t take that as gospel.

Edit: Had this labeled gn!reader on accident at first y’all, that’s my bad. Sorry for any confusion.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

[anqelically-archived]

FAREWELL | YUJI ITADORI X FEM!READER

WORDS: 1781

CONTENT: angst

MANGA SPOILERS: yes

NOTE: thought of this while i was in class for a story of mine but i’m actually not going to use it so here i am. this was also supposed to be just a drabble but i ended up getting carried away. also this kinda sucks imo 😐

you were horrified upon hearing the news. first it was the destruction of shibuya, leaving a large pit of nothing. then it was the immobilized citizens from inside of shibuya station. they were unable to move or talk, but were still breathing.

then it was time for those who weren’t breathing. hundreds of people were killed or labeled as missing from the destruction caused by whoever it was.

third was the mysterious black barriers appearing all over japan that halloween night. fourth then being how those in tokyo had been evacuated. over all for everyone (to normal people), it was a disaster of unknowns.

but there was something that was only worrying you, the final thing on this list. that thing was a someone, yuji itadori.

it sounds cliché, but he was your childhood sweetheart.

you met as little kids at the park. your mother had taken you out just like yuji’s grandpa, wasuke itadori, had taken him out.

you two had just clicked, and soon found out you went to the same school. ever since that day, you guys would play together at recess and then at the park after school.

during middle school, it was still going to the same park and sitting on the swings while talking away. or watching movies and reading manga in your bedroom.

convenience store runs after school where the two of you would walk to your house with popsicles in hand. itadori would drop you off then leave to go back to his own empty home.

then there was the hospital visits you both made to wasuke. although he had said for the two of you to stop coming as often as you did, you both didn’t listen.

messy confessions one day where you had gotten jealous during school. that day, as embarrassing as it was, will forever be one of your favorites.

it was the day where you and itadori got together, how could you forget it?

you stayed the cute couple everyone knew until june, when a sudden tragedy struck. part of your high school was destroyed, wasuke had passed away, and yuji was leaving for tokyo.

“you’re what?”

you came to the itadori household after hearing the news of wasuke’s death to find boxes being moved out. it had you confused, what was going on?

there stood the pinkette himself, so you just had to question the boxes. then he had dropped the bomb of him going to a school in tokyo.

“yeah, it’s sudden-“

“exactly,” it didn’t seem right to you, “why would you leave for a school right now of all times? wasuke-san just passed, it doesn’t seem right of them to have you start now.”

your brows were furrowed, wondering what kind of school makes a student move in when their parental figure passes away.

you weren’t aware of many things at the time. important things like the world of jujutsu itadori had gotten himself dragged into, the postponed execution that was set for him, or that he was carrying a crazy murderous being inside of him.

but, you of course noticed the changes in him. small slits under his eyes that weren’t there before were stuck onto him, and he would stop you if you tried touching it while nervously laughing.

then there was the day where he suddenly showed up at your house, two weeks later. he engulfed you in a hug as soon as he saw you, like a reunion hug.

with his immense strength, he carried you and laid the both of you on your couch.

“let’s stay like this for a moment.”

you did not mind it at all because you missed him. you guys were inseparable for years, so even two weeks apart was hard to deal with.

september rolled around and he came back once again. this time though, he was clearly upset about something.

his honey brown eyes had lost its shine, and his shoulders weren’t as high as they used to be.

despite the amount of times you asked him, he wouldn’t tell you what exactly gone down. all you knew is that he lost a friend, and it seemed like this one hit home hard.

now you were the one upset. what if you lost him? only if you knew you actually already had, twice.

the final time you would see itadori, which you were not aware of, would be right now.

hearing the familiar knocking on your bedroom door, which was nine knocks that made a short beat, your body immediately ran out of bed and opened the door.

itadori wasn’t expecting you to open up so fast as he brought his head up from the floor. but what did he exactly expect? it’s been twelve days and he hasn’t answered you at all.

“yuji!” your arms were quick to be thrown over his shoulders (around his arms— if you aren’t tall enough), hugging him close. “what the hell have you been doing!? you didn’t answer for days and with everything going on-“

“y/n.”

you were quick to pause, taking note of how his voice sounded kind of rough. not necessarily it a bad way, but in a way that seemed sort of tough.

slowly, you backed up from that hug. one good look at him and you can see the two scars he now had on his face.

one that ran from the middle of his forehead to the area right near his left eye, and the other seeming like a small patch at the right end of his lips.

ever since the day of wasuke’s death, when yuji had started at that new school of his, everything had started going down hill.

it wasn’t even just with itadori himself, but it seemed like the world suddenly shifted. more mysterious incidents started occurring more often, in many places but mostly tokyo.

you were not an idiot, so you could see that there was something being hidden from you. these scars that itadori now had couldn’t have been formed from any normal incident.

“what happened here?” your fingers traced the scars of the turning point in his life, from the day where he thought things couldn’t get worse from.

“let’s sit down,” he gently held your wrists and brought you to your bed.

“yuji,” you repeated, “what’s going on with you? i’m worried. i’ve been worried.”

he intertwined your fingers, a sigh escaping his lips. he had so much to tell you, things he’s wanted to tell you for ages, but was limited on time.

soon enough he was going to enter a tournament where you have to kill to progress, inside one of those black barriers you happened to be curious about.

while traveling here to sendai, he had thought long and hard about what he’s about to do. as much as he didn’t want to, this was only for the best.

“i love you, which is why i’m doing this. y/n, i’m breaking up with you.”

as soon as those words had left his mouth, it felt like everything paused. you blinked a couple of times, looking into his eyes to find any signs that this was a prank.

but there weren’t any.

in front of you was your childhood sweetheart suddenly breaking up with you, even though claiming be still loves you. what?

“but if you love me…” you trailed off, “why? if there’s a problem then tell me so i can help. i’m here for you.”

you gave the boy pleading eyes, hoping that you two could smooth this over and not have to lose each other. but your attempt was useless.

“i’m a murderer,” his sudden claim catches you off guard, “and innocent people die around me often. even i’ve died, twice. i just can’t lose you too.”

“murderer? died twice?”

that’s when itadori went to briefly explain the incident where he consumed sukuna’s finger, bringing him into the jujutsu world.

he informed you about what jujutsu and curses were, how they manifest and that he went to the tokyo school to become a sorcerer; someone who exorcises these curses.

“shibuya station, was that jujutsu?” you asked, the pieces starting to fit together.

‘he’s been acting strange, sometimes upset because of this jujutsu stuff. it’s something i can’t help with…’

itadori answered, “yeah. those people were killed because of sukuna, and i ate him. i started a mess i can’t control, and i don’t want you to die too because i got you involved.”

“what do you mean by die too?” it seemed like you were full of questions today.

“when i consume all of sukuna after i stop this culling game, i’m going to be executed. i’m a cog, and my job is to exorcise curses and help if people want me to. once that’s over, so is my life.”

your stomach dropped once he mentioned execution. death was not something to be taken lightly, especially when it was your own life. so how could itadori talk about himself like he was some tool for people to use?

“you’re j-just gonna let your life slip away like that!? as if it meaning nothing!” you felt angry at the fact he was so willing to die.

itadori watched you stand up, and he did as well. he clenched his fists, angry at himself. if only he hadn’t picked up the finger from that thermometer shed that day, maybe so many lives wouldn’t have been lost.

the world wouldn’t be a mess, and he could’ve lived his high school life to its full potential. made more friends, go on dates with you, graduate with you.

live a long and married life with you.

that’s all he wanted. yet the world wasn’t going to let him, it would take you away right in front of his eyes if you associated with him any longer.

“i can’t let you die too,” he cupped your cheeks.

then itadori’s lips made it to your forehead, lingering for a couple of seconds before parting. as he took his lips back, you felt drops hit your cheeks.

you looked at him and saw the stray tears leaving his eyes, he was crying.

“yuji…” you felt like tearing up as well.

the last thing you wanted for him to do was leave. you needed him, he needed you. this couldn’t be happening. you just didn’t want to believe it.

“don’t forget me, okay?” he gave you a smile, a closed-lip one where it had slightly trembled. it broke your heart. “i’ll always love you, remember that.”

he then walked away, leaving you with no words. happy endings don’t exist, not in this tale. this was his farewell to you.

NAVIGATION: here

reblogs are appreciated, and asks are welcome <3

[vannybarber]

Know Your Place

Summary: Christopher Jamal Evans puts your ass in place.

Chris Jamal Evans x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, cursing, aggressive behavior (nothing serious), mentions of cheating, implied smut, degrading.

This is based off of Barbershop: The Next Cut with Terri, Rashad, and Draya, with their whole situation😂.

"Just get in the damn car and meet me at the house. We're not doing this here."

"Fine!" You rush around to your car door and slam it shut once you get inside. You watch Chris go to his, also slamming it shut but not for the same reason as you. You were more so the reason.

Starting the car and driving off with him right on your tail, you turn the music up to drown out the many cars that honk at your recklessness and poor wheel skills. If only they knew, they would be acting just like you.

You had come over to the building where Chris was shooting a movie with his female costar, Melanie. You absolutely despised her because she often came onto Chris. Both infront of you and when you weren't around. Of course he shot her down every time because he knows better. He knew you weren't the one to be played with.

But today, when you didn't see him as soon as you walked inside the shoot, you scan the room for Melanie. Not seeing her either, you began to roam around through the halls. You look in a room and see his stuff on a couch inside. You walk into the room calling his name.

"Chris? Baby, where you at?" You check in the bathroom and its empty. "Boy, I got your nasty seafood salad. Where the hell are you?" You scan the room one more time before smacking your lips and heading to the door.

Chris was in the closet changing when Melanie came in trying to feel up on him. He was getting ready to finally cuss her out, but he heard you yelling for him and so he freaked, shutting the door. He specifically told her not to make a sound and she followed orders, up until the last minute.

As you hit the threshold, you hear something hit the floor. The sound seemed to have come from the closet. You pause, scared at first because it was evident that no one was in the room except you. But then you grow suspicious because Chris and that bitch were both missing. You turn around slowly and stalk towards the door.

Chris was fuming when she knocked the box over, but then started to freak when he heard you walking over to the closet door. He gave her the look with a mix of panic and 'I'm gonna fucking kill you'. He sees the door handle turn and prepares for your wrath because you damn sure were gonna give it to him.

You open the door and there was your man and Melanie. Her hands were covering her mouth, eyes wide. Your eyes relocate to Chris and his shirt was halfway on his torso. He clambers to get it fully in, stepping towards you and away from her.

"Babe, just listen and you'll understand everything. She came in while I was changing and-" he doesn't get a chance to finish, for your voice overpowered his.

"You got five seconds to explain to me what the fuck you're doing." You hand is still on the door, not planning on letting them out the closet just yet. Chris was confused, but discerned that you weren't talking to him. You were talking to Melanie. He looks back at her and she was now biting her nail, clearly anxious.

"Look, Y/N, I really don't want any problems." She is trying to be straight about it, but her voice is fastened with fear. She knew exactly what you were capable of and she still is trying to bullshit you.

"You don't want want no problems? You've been trying to sleep with my man since the first day you found out you were working with him!" You must look like boo boo the fool for her to think she was pulling this shit on you.

"And as for you Christopher," you turn towards him, jabbing your finger in his chest, "what the hell are you thinking? Are y'all just lying to me and actually messing around?" You had no problem whooping both their asses.

"Y/N no! Listen, she came inside the closet while I was changing and I was going to kick her out, but I heard you coming and I just...freaked out." He's trying to dissolve the situation, but is only making it worse.

"You instead of coming out, you decide to stay in there with her? You see how this is worse right? You're just giving her the benefit to think she could even get with you. This is entertainment for her. Don't you realize that?" Now your hand was off the door and balled into a fist because you were 2.5 seconds from losing it.

"Baby, I was going to put my foot down this time. I know its long overdue, but I didn't want any issues with the people I work with. And I should've realized how unfair that was to you. I'm sorry. But don't think I would ever cheat on you." He grabs your arm and pushes you back so he could get out the closet.

"Yeah, you damn right. All this could've been avoided. She's harassing you. You need to report her ass!" You snag your arm away from him and point back at her, who's now trying to ease out of the closet. You catch her and she runs off, you not far behind. You damn sure were not a runner, but you were going super sonic right now.

She turns down she same way you came to find them and Chris is right on your ass too. You guys get to the front of the building and you lunge for her, but no contact was made for Chris had you in a hold. You brawl against his wide chest and eventually give up when he doesn't let go.

People are watching in absolute shock and some even were laughing their asses off. It would've been even funnier if Chris had let you get one hit in. Of course that didn't happen since he scooped you up with minimal effort.

"Y/N chill! Stop, you're making a fucking scene!" He grabs on your flailing arms, yanking them back.

"I don't give a shit! Let me get her. Just one good time," you plead and scream at the same time. He literally drags you away outside with great struggle since you weren't giving in. When he got you out there, you accepted your defeat and he let you go, watching you extra closely in case you pulled a fast one.

"You should've let me get her! Why the hell you stop me?!" He runs his hands through his hair, obviously frustrated and very much embarrassed. But you could care less. She needed her ass whooped.

"It's not worth it. We need to go now!"

"I don't have to go anywhere!" You could give less of a fuck if the onlookers labeled you as 'the angry black woman'. Because infact, you are a black woman. And damn right you were angry.

"Just get in the damn car and meet me at the house. We're not doing this here!"

"Fine!"

After reminiscing over the lovely previous moments, you pull up at your even lovelier home. You hop out the car and open the gate. Walking back to the car you peek and see Chris with his arm against the window, leaning on it and watching you. For sure he had a headache by now.

Instead of pulling up all the way into the driveway, you park at the end, leaving no room for Chris to drive in.

"Really? Pull all the way in!" You sit for a minute with your arms crossed for a bit of rebellion before complying like a child. Only because you didn't want to walk the extra way to the door of course. When you park again, Chris pulls in and gets out to shut the gate.

You were already unlocking the door and stepping in, but before you could slam it in his face, he was right behind you. You toss the keys and kick off your shoes.

"Where are you going?" You hear him call from the front of the house.

"None of your business." You were just going to the fridge to get your pineapple juice. You drink it almost every single day. And you definitely needed some right now.

"Okay we need to discuss what the fuck just happened. What the hell was that Y/N?" He's standing across the kitchen island from you staring in anger.

"Well for one, I caught you in a closet half naked with that bitch after I called your name repeatedly. Then she's playing in my face and you're trying to defend her! You really need an explanation for my actions, Chris?" You close the bottle and slam it on the counter.

"Look Y/N, I explained to you what happened. I am sorry. I knew that if I had came out that closet with her, you'd still react the same way, probably even worse. I was literally fearing for my life, no joke." He puts his hands up in surrender. You almost laugh.

"I rather you just have came out and told me straight up. Yeah, I would be mad of course. Who wouldn't? But you made it more difficult yourself." You still have an attitude and even though he apologized, you still wanted to be mad.

"Baby, I tell you you're beautiful everyday. Why? Because I want you to know that no other woman could ever be at the level you are for me. I want you to know that you're the only one I see and there isn't anyone else for me." He's now standing infront of you, his 6'0 figure imposing over your frame.

You can't and won't lie that those words had you in your feels. You swear, Geminis really are sweet talkers. You could've gave in right then. But not just yet.

"You sound like a real bitch right now." You fold your arms and look at him with testy eyes. You slightly regret saying that because what he said was genuine. But who are you without some back talk?

His eyes go caliginous. You've only seen this a one time when you've stepped out of line with him. Your big mouth could argue for days, but you never held a grudge. You kind of forced yourself to keep going as if you were still upset. Stubborn was an understatement.

You scratch your straightened hair nervously before flattening it back down. You internally hope it wasn't obvious that you lamented what you had just said.

"I already apologized to you and explained what happened. Now you can be mature and we can have a real conversation or you can be childish and act like you're still upset and we can end it right here." He steps closer to you, if that's even humanly possible. "But this is will be the first and last time you call me a bitch. Got it?"

He's breathing heavily on your face. If only you could see your face right now. It would read shock, with a bit of fear. He never checked you like this and let you get away with a lot. But this right here, was well deserved. But the way he's over you and his voice lowering with a sharp tone had you...turned on.

Something about him putting you in place made you wet and excited. All the fear had vanished almost immediately. You finally respond.

"Yes," you say quietly, nodding your head. "I'm sorry." Your eyes remained on him looking up through your lashes nibbling your lip. If only you knew what it was doing to him.

The sight of your body go automatically submissive to him after he got firm with you threw him in a complete frenzy. He was dominant most times, but you had many moments where you didn't back down to a challenge and took the lead. You not clapping back and apologizing threw him off a slight bit, but did not disappoint him. It turned him on.

"Good girl." He grabs your arm, spins you around so that your back is turned to him and bends down next to your ear.

"Go into the room, take off everything but your panties and lie on the bed. Mkay?" He moved his hands behind your arm to your lower back. You might as well save yourself the embarrassment and take off your panties too because once he sees the tropical storm, it's a wrap burrito. But you nod your head in compliance.

He gives you a smack on the butt and pushes you forward. You walk the rest of the way to the room and follow his exact orders. You remove every clothing item except the saltwater cloth covering your most needy part. You lay on the bed and wait for him.

He comes in a few moments later and eyes you down, making sure you followed his instructions. Of course you would. He stands in front of the bed and starts to remove his clothes. The entire time his eyes alternate from your body to your eyes. It made you nervous, but still excited.

"I'm very much used to your little tantrums and what not, but there's a limit. And when you pass that limit and step out of line, you need to be taught a lesson." He's in just his briefs by the end of his sentence and crawls in the bed.

You adjust yourself onto your back, shamelessly welcoming him to help himself to you. He positions in between your legs and lowers his face to yours, lips gliding against yours and pulling back when you try to kiss him. You pout and he smirks a little.

"Tell me what you want, honey" he whispers as he rubs up your leg to your thigh, grazing his fingers against your soaked panties. Just when you thought you couldn't get any wetter. Damn.

"I want you to touch me. Please." Your hands are gripping the sheets just thinking about his hands on your body. You completely forgot about messing up your hair as you throw your head back when he starts circling his fingers on your clit.

"I'm starting to think that this isn't very punishing for you, sweetheart." He picks up pace and reaches for your boob, kneading it full in his palms. "You seem to really be enjoying it. A little too much."

You weren't even listening to him, only chasing your orgasm, rolling your hips against his forceful touch. You successfully make it a few seconds to cumming before he snatches his finger away. You pick your head up right away, looking appalled.

"Why'd you stoooop?" you whine out. He looks at you innocently.

"Hmm that's just something us bitches like to do." Before you could respond, he flips you over and smacks your right cheek. "These have been on way too long." He pulls your panties off quicker than Pietro Maximoff. Tossing them to the floor, he starts his teasing.

"Damn, Y/N. All this is for me? If this doesn't tell me you loved the beginning of your lesson, I don't know what does."

He drags his fingers through your wet lips, coating them with your wetness. He brings his hands to his face to taste the mess you made for him.

"Hmm. That pineapple juice is kicking in fast."

The entire time he's talking, you're moving around coding him to stop teasing you and do something to make you feel good.

"You really are a desperate whore, huh?" You moan in the sheets in agreement. You were never into name calling, but it was something with Chris that made you love it.

He lowers down to your pussy, breathe frisking over it. You shiver and wait for him to start.

"As much as both you and I would love this, you don't deserve it. So ass up." You internally start cursing him out, calling him all things forbidden. But you comply and slightly lift your lower half.

Chris gets directly behind you and lines up with your entrance. When did he even take his briefs off? You inhale sharply at the contact and moan as he slips inside you with little to no effort. He fills you quick, starting his thrusts right away.

Your left cheek is against the mattress and both hands are gripping the sheets.

"Oh my- fuck!"

"How's it feel baby?" He asks you, going deeper at every thrust back inside you. Between the loud claps of your bodies, your pornographic moans and the sounds of your WAP, he knew the answer.

"It feels so good Chris" you manage to get out between breathes that were suddenly hard to take. You suddenly get a hard slap on your right cheek, making you squeal.

"That's not my name." You quickly correct yourself.

"Sorry..Daddy."

"Look at this" he starts thrusting faster, both of you not far from climax.

"Just an hour ago you were bitchin' about me and now you're basically grovelling at my feet. You can barely make a word. I guess I'm not such a bitch now, huh? " He locks your arms behind you and you automatically lift your ass up further, helping him slide in you even easier.

"No Daddy, I'm s-sorry." He groans and grabs a fistful of your hair and leans down to your ear. Normally you would be pissed because he touched your hair, especially since it was just done. But you could give less of a damn right now.

"Yeah I bet you are. Would a bitch be fucking you like this? Hm?" He pounded into you hard at every word. Your face in the mattress, you let out a scream that would have the neighbors dialing 911.

"No, baby- oh GOD" you yell, right at your peak. Just a couple more thrusts away and you were gone. Chris recognized that yell. He wanted to send you off right.

"Go ahead and cum for me baby. But just remember,"

He was right behind you and close himself.

"No matter how smart you get with me, at the end of the day, you're always gonna be a little slut for me." The last 4 words sent you over the edge and you cum all over him. He doesn't fall short and fills up the rest of you.

"Fuuuck" he let's out as his seed spills inside you.

His body collapses next to you and you find the energy to move your body. You turn and look at him with this dumb smile on your face. He reciprocates with the same dumb smile and pats down your hair. You slap his arm, turning your nose up at him.

"Ow. Why'd you do that for?" He rubs his now red arm.

"That's what you get for messing up my hair. You're gonna give me money to get it done again." Remembering, you hit his arm again.

"Baby, what the hell?"

"That's for also making me leave my pineapple juice out the fridge."

Idek what I was doing here 😭 This is the kind of stuff I daydream about, but it never looks as good written out 🥴

masterlist

[millylotus]

Circus Robins

I myself have always loved the fact that Robin started out as something that solely was made for Dick and the circus. But unfortunately, Jason's circus backstory got scrubbed and as far as I'm aware no other Robin is connected to the Circus.

So I took it upon myself to make backstories for the other four main Robins [Jason, Tim, Steph, and Damian], that will mesh well with their expected cannon. Along with mood boards of course [I've just become addicted to them].

I am terribly sorry if I messed up on Damian’s board and made it either offensive and or aggressively inaccurate to actual Middle Eastern festivals, carnivals, and performances. I’ll take any and all constructive criticism.

DICK

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Of course our wonderful golden child, our original circus baby. I made this board based on the classical and old circus'. With the other performers in Haly's Circus and the animals that Dick grew up with. And of course wonderful Zitka.

JASON

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Gotham isn't exactly the safest place to live and its entertainment clearly shows it. Jason would sneak out when his dad was out and when his mom was too blitzed out to realize he'd left. He would go and hang out with the other boys on the street, and they'd stop to go to a small alley that was relatively safe but extremely creepy. It was named Mammon's Gallery, as the name suggests it was mostly a display-style circus with weird and disgusting objects, along with small-time horror performers and a few people with impressive tattoos.

It was closed down/removed about a year after Jason passed. When Jason became Robin he modeled his suit after Dick's which is mostly classical acrobatic circus attire. As he spent more time as Robin it started to get more inspired by the style and aesthetics of Mammon's Gallery. After he came back as the Red Hood he used the alley as a bit of an inspiration for his style, but not much.

TIM

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Jack and Janet Drake actually quite liked the circus, they went to Haly's the day the Graysons died and recorded their whole time at the circus up to the fall. After that, they didn't go to any classical circuses and kept to mostly contemporary-style circuses. Of course, they recorded what they could, they wanted to show it all to Tim once he was born. Keeping the recording in a box labeled as such. The Haly recording was kept in a locked safe, they thought to give it to Dick or Bruce but ended up keeping it.

When Tim was born he spent most of his extra time watching the recordings, going to any circus was something that the Drake family made a habit of doing any chance they could. When Jack and Janet were gone on trips Tim would watch the recordings during then. Going online to find some new things to see. He was six when he found the Haly recording and somehow got inside the safe. Safe to say he was rather traumatized by the end.

When he found out who Batman and the Robins were he did the cringe child thing and designed his own Robin suit around contemporary circus aesthetics. To differentiate from the other two.

STEPHANIE

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Arthur [Cluemaster and Steph’s dad] had always been a bit extra and let’s be honest the man has aggressive theater kid energy. So to me he also went to Renaissance Faires when he had the chance, bringing Steph with him for some father-daughter bonding time. Steph absolutely loved going to the Ren Faires, she loved the outfits and games and roleplaying. It was her own form of escape from the world.

Crystal [Steph’s mom] would take her on occasion to the pier during carnival days and they would spend the whole day winning games because Crystal couldn’t stomach going on any big rides. Steph only went on the Ferris wheel once back then, and the view was absolutely breathtaking to her.

Those trips were the good things her parents did for her and she’ll never forget them. The pier is deserted now but sometimes Steph will visit it just to relive the good memories.

Her Spoiler costume was first heavily inspired by Ren Faire rouges, though fewer accessories and overly complicated layers it’s there. Her Robin suit was inspired by game carnie uniforms, with of course red, green, and yellow as the main colors.

DAMIAN

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It’s not that the League of Assassins isn’t still cold, it's just that Talia realized her son would never really be happy if he didn’t have that freedom she had for a while as a child. So Talia would bring him to festivals and carnivals showing him just how beautiful the world is outside of the League.

Damian adored the horse shows and the moment he was even close to big enough Talia got him a pony that would grow with him. Talia actually found Goliath as a pup at one of the carnivals and knew that Damian would love it. When Jason was still catatonic and willing he would come along as well, he spent most of that time watching the acrobats and dancers remembering Dick and Babs in a way.

Sometimes nowadays when in the area at the right time Damian will go and visit the carnival and watch the festivals. It always enamored him in a way.

Damian’s Robin outfit is a combination of the acrobat uniforms and the actual League uniforms, making it both colorful, practical, and comfortable.

[mochacoffee]

I created a 3D model and floor plan of Aziraphale’s bookshop in Good Omens!

I really wanted one for reference and it seemed like many others did too, so I put together my best approximation of where everything is. Beneath the color version, you’ll see I’ve included two simplified, labeled versions of the plan. The verbal labels are so you know what the object is. The numerical labels are there to make it easy to find more information about the object. I’ve put a numbered index below the cut that features the relevant reference images I used for each object and some more information about why I put it where I did/why it’s relevant/etc. I want to be very clear that I did not add anything to this from my own imagination; every single item and feature represents something I actually saw in the shop.

If you have any questions or want more information about this, PLEASE do not hesitate to ask! I put so much time into figuring it out and I would be more than happy to be a resource for anyone who needs it. Also, if you notice any errors, let me know and I’ll update the post. I hope this is helpful!

Update: Here’s a link to an interactive view of the shop! It takes a moment to load. You can click the “3D” tab in the top right to view it in first person and walk around inside. Double click a spot on the floor to move there and pan around by clicking and dragging. The oval symbol next to the person walking gives you a birds-eye view.

Update 2: Here’s a higher quality rendering of the first person perspective! Update 3: I made an alternate first person render here complete with a ceiling, light fixtures, and ambient lighting from outside. This one is optimized for making it seem more like you’re actually there, whereas the previous one is for maximum visibility. This render also has some minor accuracy improvements, which are detailed under the cut in the relevant sections. (The first interactive link with the birds-eye view updates automatically.) Update 4: In case you’re interested in Aziraphale’s books specifically, I’ve made a catalogue of those here.

1. Unknown closet

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There is a door behind Gabriel when he talks to Aziraphale in the backroom. So where does it lead? Well. The wall we can see behind Aziraphale when he encounters Shadwell in the shop (see #17: boxes/storage) doesn’t have a door in it. It’s also facing the wrong direction and it’s in the middle of the southwest wall ⁠— we know this because Aziraphale can see Shadwell in the entrance from there. So the wall behind him at that moment is definitely not the wall of the backroom. We’re left with this door and unaccounted-for corner. The only thing that makes sense to me then is that there’s a closet there between the two spaces. My personal theory is that this closet is “the back” that Aziraphale refers to keeping the Châteauneuf-du-Pape in since I didn’t see any other obvious alcohol storage space in the shop. Update: @n0nb1narydemon has suggested this could be a bathroom for guests or because culturally it’s a room you can use to extricate yourself from situations, which is another possibility! They also asked where I think the doors behind object #20 lead, and I thought it would be good to add here that they might lead to the shop next door or to this unknown room. It’s possible the room actually extends further into the next shop and encompasses the part of the wall where the doors are, but I didn’t have concrete evidence to support that idea so I didn’t include it in the floor plan. Update: I was wrong about the Châteauneuf-du-Pape! In the DVD bookshop tour we learn that the cabinet in the top left corner of the backroom is where Aziraphale keeps his alcohol, including that particular wine. I added a reference photo of Neil pointing it out. Thanks to @fuckyeahgoodomens​ for bringing the existence of this tour to my attention — ya girl got the special edition blu-ray even though I don’t have a blu-ray player yet so I hadn’t actually seen it. Also, there is a chair right next to this cabinet against the wall which I missed in my initial rendering of the shop but have since added.

2. Part of shop next door (top right)

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This was very tricky to figure out because you can see from the exterior of the shop that there is no wall past the back door, but from the interior there is clearly more space there. BUT in a behind the scenes photo of David during the fire scene, you can see on this back wall that there’s actually a nook with two large entryways, similar to the one that makes up the backroom. From the exterior you can see that the area next to the back door is taken up by the window of the next shop, so I concluded that this little square of space was not part of the bookshop’s interior, but the nook did extend further back than where the shop appears to end from the outside. I had to make one bookshelf more nubby than the others to make this work, but after a LOT of trial and error I decided one nubby bookshelf was the only thing that could explain the apparent architecture of the space. Any floor design that accounted for a bookshelf of the same length as the others just did not make sense on a fundamental level.

3. Part of shop next door (bottom left)

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From the exterior of the shop you can see that this window belongs to the adjacent store, as the wall is a different color. Within the bookshop you can also see when Gabriel and Sandalphon enter the backroom, there’s no window behind them; there’s a sink. So it’s definitely not Aziraphale’s window. The wall of the backroom is also further into the shop’s interior than the wall Aziraphale’s desk sits against, so there’s a corner of space inside that’s unaccounted for. At first I assumed it was plumbing from the sink that had been sealed off or something, but when I realized that’s where the window was on the outside, I figured the space is probably part of the next shop over.

4. Aziraphale’s desk

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This is where Aziraphale sits in the shop like 90% of the time. It’s on the Eastern side of the shop because Aziraphale was the guardian of the Eastern gate in Eden and because production designer Michael Ralph is a goddamn genius (source). Shout out to @posted-omens for this fascinating post analyzing the chariot sculpture on his desk. Update: Fun fact, the ladder behind his desk is actually called a library chair, supposedly designed by Benjamin Franklin. It functions as a ladder but you can also fold it into a chair! Neil mentions this in the DVD extra bookshop tour. I added screen caps of it to the reference photos above since I don’t have a specific section for the ladders!

5. Phone Aziraphale calls Crowley from

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I will be honest with you: I think there’s something a little fucked up about this corner. It is my nemesis. I tried so many things to make it work and I just could not get it exactly right, but what you see in the floor plan is my best guess as to what’s going on. The conundrum is that the spot where Aziraphale stands when he’s on the phone with Crowley is definitely closer to the fence around the staircase than it is in my layout. But the table he’s in front of is also clearly against the outside wall of the backroom, and the stairs being where I’ve put them here is the only thing that made sense based on the reference photos. So there’s some weird spacing issue where there’s a little too much room between the fence around the stairs and this phone. If I were to move the walls to close that gap then there would be way too much space in the backroom and way too little space on the southwest side of the shop, so I think the walls are correct as they are. So  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. What I can say for certain is that the phone is there and it’s on a table next to a lamp, and the table is definitely against the wall of the backroom and behind the staircase. The distance between these things doesn’t hold up perfectly, but their arrangement does. On another note, this is one of two phones in the shop. The other is on the table next to the cash register (see #9) which Aziraphale picks up when Crowley calls to say they need to talk about Armageddon. I believe this is the same one he uses to call Adam’s house in episode two, only he moves it from the table by the register to the top of a pile of books (which I’m pretty sure were stacked on the circular table between his desk and the sofa). Update: OKAY SO it turns out in the behind-the-scenes bookshop tour on the DVD we get two more teeny tiny glimpses of this corner! I added them to the reference photo album above. It appears I was right about the lamp, phone, and bookshelf being where they are, except that the bookshelf and table are touching. There’s also a ladder propped against the shelf. I’d say it’s possible there are actually two bookshelves here; based on the parallax in the DVD tour, the one next to the phone didn’t appear to be against the wall, but we know there is a bookshelf against that wall because we see it in the show. (P.S. There’s also another chair against that wall which I didn’t see because Aziraphale was standing in front of it, so I added that too.) This leads me to believe there’s one against the wall and another one further from it next to the table. But that’s just my speculation, so I won’t change the actual floor plan unless I find more evidence.

6. Where they’re drinking when Crowley realizes Adam has named the hellhound

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When Aziraphale sits down at this table, the background is of the same space he refers to as the “backroom” when Gabriel and Sandalphon show up. He’s across the table from Crowley, behind whom you can see a bookshelf, the staircase, and the coat rack. The table is half in the backroom half out, since the room has two large entryways in its wall. Update: I realized the wall behind this table actually dips back further! It is a weirdly-shaped wall! But in the DVD special tour of the bookshop Neil walks past it and there’s clearly an area that recesses even further, so I’ve modified that in the interactive floor plan :)

7. Bench of books that start the fire

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When Shadwell leaves the book shop and slams the door, one of the candles knocks over and rolls into a pile of books and other papers (including the Sound of Music lmao). You can see it’s the same bench the customer is standing in front of when he gives Gabriel a weird look after he yells about pornography. (I love this customer so much because they gave me a super HD shot of this particular area.) The poles of the fence around the bench, the staircase behind it, and the smaller shelves beside it holding Terry Pratchett’s books make it clear that the bench is in that spot in the shop and that it’s the place the fire starts.

8. Coat rack with Terry’s hat on it

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Aziraphale hangs his coat here right before Crowley calls him to say they need to talk about Armageddon. Out of focus in the frame you can see the lion sculpture that sits on the fence surrounding the stairs (see #11) and a bookshelf. The camera pans past the shelf and we see him walk past his desk to pick up the phone by the cash register, which puts that shelf right next to his sitting area. We can also see the coat rack in the background when Crowley realizes Adam has named the hellhound. The coat rack has Terry Pratchett’s hat and scarf on it in his honor (source).

9. Antique cash register

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You can see this register in the background when Crowley is on the couch and when Aziraphale invites Gabriel and Sandalphon into the backroom. I know it’s an antique cash register because it’s photographed and referenced directly on page 79 of the Good Omens TV Companion. It’s a typewriter in my floor plan because the website I used (floorplanner.com), who knows why, did not have a 3D model of a cash register from the early 1900s.

10. Back door

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Thank you so much to @fuckyeahgoodomens for this post where they figured all this out!! Wonderful work! You can see this door from the exterior of the shop and its existence is referenced in the Good Omens script book on page 94. It’s also in the background of a behind the scenes shot of Aziraphale pulling away the carpet so he can contact heaven. Behind him in that shot you can see the bust (which moves around a lot - see #19) and a grandfather clock, and in the show from one of the aerial shots you can see that the carpet is pulled west, further confirming the door’s location.

11. Fence around the stairs

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I have concluded that this is a fence to keep customers from going up to the second floor. It looks to be made of golden pillars with wooden shelving atop them. The fence crosses beneath the staircase on one side and the other side ends about where the stair’s railing does. You can see this fence behind Crowley when he realizes Adam has named the hellhound, behind Aziraphale when he calls Crowley to tell him he knows where the antichrist is, and next to the customer who gives Gabriel a look after he yells “PORNOGRAPHY!” It’s also visible in one of the aerial shots of the shop. Update: In the DVD extra bookshop tour I noticed the lion sculpture on this fence is not just a lion, but a lion with a woman holding its mane. I think it might also be a lamp? In one of the reference photos, the one that looks down from the second floor, it appears there’s a light in the woman’s other hand. I’d be interested to see if we can track down what this particular sculpture is and what it might mean. Update: @cantdewwrite has suggested here that the light/sculpture could be a replica of one of the bronze statues in the Victoria Memorial, which does look quite similar. I’m fairly certain Aziraphale’s sculpture is of a woman, which would make it the figure in the memorial representing peace.

12. Open book of illustrated story of Adam and Eve

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Shout out to @amuseoffyre for this post where she figured out what this was! Update: I’ve determined that this book is The Gospel in the Old Testament: A series of pictures by Harold Copping. The painting is, naturally, by Harold Copping. It’s called “Adam and Eve after the fall.” Unfortunately this book is out of print and I haven’t been able to track down an ebook or scan of it, so I can’t confirm the text just yet. But based on its premise, I think it’s safe to assume that it’s telling the story of Adam and Eve directly. Aziraphale has a second copy of this book visible on the shelf next to the sofa.

13. Antique computer

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This is the computer Aziraphale does his extremely scrupulous taxes with, as confirmed in this ask that @neil-gaiman answered from @prismatic-bell! It’s an Amstrad, according to the bookshop tour in the DVD extras.

14. Spiral staircase

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These stairs are in many shots of the shop so it was pretty obvious where they were.

15. Sink, teapots, etc.

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You can see this wall right before Gabriel walks into the backroom and behind Aziraphale when he’s drinking with Crowley at the end of episode one. It appears he has two hand towels, a ceramic angel soap dish (aw), some teapots, and a decorated box above it, among other things. On the floor beside the sink is what I believe to be a broom handle, though it could be a mop? Next to that is a bronze statue of an angel atop a small table piled with books. On the other side of the sink is an open book on a stand ⁠— it has a fabric bookmark in it with a crucifix at the end, so I’m assuming it’s a bible. Light reading while you make your tea I guess. Update: Thank you so much to @brightwanderer for pointing out in this post that he has four extra angel wing mugs above the sink as well! I couldn’t figure out what they were! Update: Neil said in this ask that you can see an oven by the sink when Gabriel and Sandalphon walk in. Which you can! It’s real small and there’s a little pot on top of it. I’ve added a screencap of it to the images album for this area. Update: I’m donating my heart and soul to @ack-emma for suggesting in the replies to this ask that the central object above the sink is a samovar!! I had never heard of this so I had absolutely no idea what it was, but I think they hit the nail on the head. Y’all Aziraphale really likes tea.

16. Sculpture

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Thank you @ineffable-endearments, @behold-my-squeees, @srebrnafh, @aethelflaedladyofmercia for contributing to this post about the statue and its potential symbolism! Update: @doctorscienceknowsfandom has added some analysis to the post above suggesting that this is a sculpture of Paris, the figure from Greek mythology. I’m inclined to agree! Update: BINGO! @tifaria​ has found Aziraphale’s exact statue (confirmed Paris!) in this post. Brilliant work!! This community continues to blow me away. Further discussion about the sculpture’s meaning in the context of the show here — be sure to check the notes for further commentary.

17. Boxes/storage

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These boxes and piles of books can be seen behind Aziraphale when he encounters Shadwell in the shop and behind Crowley while he’s rambling drunkenly about why they should stop Armageddon in episode one. They’re in a nook that goes further back than where the shop appears to end from its exterior (see #2 for more info on that!). 

18. Stacks of books

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You can see this stack in one of the aerial shots of Shadwell in the shop. I didn’t include most stacks of books in the floor plan because they’re literally everywhere and I had to manually set how high each book would be from the floor, so putting them in piles got tedious very quickly. But I did include a few notable ones, and this is one of those imo because there’s not much else in that area as far as I can tell.

19. Bust

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This little guy moves around quite a bit, unlike most things in the shop. In some photos/scenes it’s where I put it on the floor plan, but in others it’s closer to the northwestern wall and in this 360 video of the shop it’s right between two of the columns. I chose to put it where I did because it’s there in the scene where Crowley is drunkenly rambling about Armageddon, whereas the other locations I’ve seen it in were from behind the scenes shots and stuff. I’m not sure who the bust is of! It appears to have a little ribbon with a medal around its next though. Update: More speculation about the bust here, courtesy of @aethelflaedladyofmercia! Update: @fuckyeahgoodomens has confirmed in this post that the thing around the bust’s neck is the medal given to Aziraphale by Gabriel in this deleted scene!

20. Divider I think?

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Please for the love of god if you know what this thing is, tell me. My best guess is it’s a room divider because what else looks like that?? But I don’t know why you would put a room divider there. And it still doesn’t look exactly like a divider either. But the decorative element at the top and apparent gap between the metal frame and the red bit leads me to believe it’s not furniture or a box. This mystery object is my second nemesis after the weird corner (#5). Update: @brightwanderer has suggested that it might be an embroidered/tapestry draft screen, which I think makes more sense! Update: In the DVD extra bookshop tour I found a very brief image of this item over Neil’s shoulder which I added to the reference photos above. I think by some miracle I was right and it is a divider. It could be a draft screen but at the very least it is shaped like a divider with at least three sections. Wahoo!

21. Record player

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This is the phonograph that’s playing Franz Schubert’s String Quintet in C major (thank you again to @fuckyeahgoodomens for that info) when we first see Aziraphale in the shop. It also plays Queen’s You’re My Best Friend when Crowley runs into the fire.

22. Terry Pratchett’s books

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Another one of the many little Terry easter eggs in the show is this set of his books! @devoursjohnlock made a post highlighting some other specific books you can find in the shop.

23. Chess set

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I saw a post once pointing out this chess set and the implication that Aziraphale and Crowley must play together sometimes, which I thought was a really nice detail to put into the set. But I can’t find the post to credit it! I will update this with a link if I do. Update: Pretty sure this is the post I saw. Thank you to @losyanya for mentioning it :)

24. Circular entryway

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This is one of many circle motifs that production designer Michael Ralph incorporated into the shop. It’s gorgeous. I think there’s actually more room between the archway and the door than I’ve included in this floor plan; Shadwell takes a few steps through it when he runs out of the shop. But I think the fix is just the door being further out from the entryway rather than the entryway being further in. I didn’t want to fuck with the walls to improve this particular area because when I realized the spacing was wrong, I was almost done and would’ve had to manually move each object in the shop over a few inches over. Made more sense to leave the caveat in a footnote. Update: In the DVD extra bookshop tour you get a brief glimpse of something on the inside wall of the entryway. I think it’s a wall sconce or something along those lines. There’s one on either side. I added them to the reference album above! I also figured out how to extend the walls to accommodate some more space there without having to move everything else, so I did that. Update: Here’s a link to some meta discussion about the cupid sculpture in front of this entryway!

25. Sofa Crowley sits on when he suggests they could be godfathers

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You can see that the sofa is next to Aziraphale’s desk and the cash register, and also that there’s a bookshelf behind it. From the entrance to the shop you can see two bookshelves on either side of the central circle, so it was pretty clear that the couch was on the other side of one of those shelves.

26. Wall crucifix

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I find it very interesting that Aziraphale has this considering Jesus isn’t a big part of angelic lore or heaven’s general priorities in the show. It would make more sense to me that he has it because it’s another memento of his time with Crowley, sort of like the illustrated story of Adam and Eve by his desk (#12). Also, fun fact, the opposite side of this wall segment is where he put up all his maps and notes about the whereabouts of the Antichrist in episode three.

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High: The Seven Ep 1

Meet the Maidens

It is back to school baby, both for D20 and, funnily enough, myself as well (something I hope will give me more time to get the recaps out in a timely manner fingers crossed). 

As I’m sure you all know if you’re reading this, this season of D20 takes place in the world of Fantasy High but with a focus on Aguefort’s OTHER most badass adventuring party who we’ve so far only seen on the sidelines, the Seven Maidens! You’ll recall, they’re made up of the seven girls who were captured by Penelope and co. to fulfill the prophecy that would let Kalvaxus rule the world freshman year. And, in fact, we start with a flashback to freshman year so let’s just jump right in.

We find our seven soon-to-be heroines chained in the Red Waste in front of what we know and they will shortly learn in Kalvaxus’ lair--a crucial part of the prophecy that was the subject of season 1. The structure of this episode is sort of like 2 rounds of introductions--first here with the maidens meeting each other for the first time and then again at home with their families a la the first episode of Freshman Year so I’ll be glossing over certain things that we’ll get to later in their second intros.

Anyway, the first two to wake up are Danielle (aka Yelle: half-elf, druid) and Zelda (satyr, barbarian as we know). Zelda is her usual, adorably nervous self in contrast to Yelle who is no less sweet but in a super chill, granola girl, fuck the system kind of way. We actually learn that Penelope had her on board with the plan for a hot second when she thought it was just “overthrow the government” but didn’t know about the “install a just as bad if not worse evil dragon overlord” part. 

Ostentatia (dwarf, cleric) wakes up next and is, as Izzy--her player--describes her “Jersey Trash.”, all blinged up with jewelry that she secretly made herself and didn’t buy. She wakes up pissed and ready to bodyslam Aelwyn which are both extremely valid emotions as much as I love Aelwyn. By the way, all of the girls recognize each other as girls who go to their school but none of them are really friends though they very quickly start throwing the label around because that’s what you do when you wake up chained with 6 other people in front of a dragon’s lair in a place called the Red Waste. 

Katja (half-orc, fighter) wakes up and immediately cares about nothing more than the status of her beloved horse, Cinnamon and declares that if Cinnamon dies, she’ll die. This is a fantasy world so Ostentatia and Danielle are a little concerned that might literally be true via a soul bond or something but it’s more that Katja just really, really loves that horse. Danielle tries to cast a spell to locate the horse but can’t get the somatic components quite right with her hands manacled. 

They all get into a discussion about the fact that everyone for a fact knows they’re all virgins now (you know, the real issue here) and what exactly counts as “virginity” for the purposes of this prophecy (like, does second or third base count or only traditional home runs using the baseball analogy) when Penny wakes up and is, just so excited to be here gang! Penny (halfling, rogue), who is one of the girls who has been kidnapped the longest, is adorably and honestly a bit concerningly exuberant to be surrounded by all these new friends, totally disregarding  the fact that they are clearly in some deep shit. Zelda mentions that Riz, her old babysitee, knows they’re kidnapped and is trying to help and she lights up. 

Next up is Sam (water genasi, sorc/bard) who immediately starts thrashing to get out of her chains and, when she can’t get free, is devastated by the fact that her ex betrayed her (!?) Finally Antiope (human fighter/ranger) wakes up all out of sorts having started her growth spurt while in the crystal and also having needed to pee right before she went in which becomes a problem all over herself (which Sam helpfully cantrips away).

With all of them awake, the stones they’re chained to light up and some of Kalvaxus’ minions (the ones who tied them up) show up to do minion speechifying. Yelle does a horrifying Animorph style morph into a waterbear (a tardigrade if you wanna get all Bio 101) to get out of her bonds but then Sam who has a serious one track mind re: getting out of here (Correct) and has exactly zero patience for these guys casts Tidal Wave and just knocks them off the cliff. Yelle frees Ostentatia who frees everyone else with Animate Object on their chains. Hands free, Yelle also casts Locate Animal and tells a very pleased Katja that Cinnamon is doing a full Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron down the highway searching for her. 

The girls decide to explore the cave which has recently had most of its treasure moved (it’s currently in the gym for the Prompocolypse fight which is currently happening). Penny and Sam (who are in insanely different emotional places) find all these broken mirrors which Sam takes as a cue that they need to GTFO (which is what she was already doing) and Penny thinks would make a great material for friendship bracelet making which she starts doing as Sam physically pulls her away. Sam hears someone doing post-cry sniffles and is like, “Not today Satan,” still trying to leave. However, Penny sees that there is one mirror left and, inside, sees a ethereal looking human with flowing, preternatural, black hair who senses their presence and asks if Penny is someone named Anima. She asks for their names though she declines to give hers (hmm, feels very fae) and the girls give the fake names of Kelly and Cecelia which the figure says she will guard and not misuse. The figure says she is looking for her sisters (who she says when Penny asks are at Aguefort which...hmmmmm) and, all of a sudden, Sam and Penny are having a bad feeling about those mirror shards. 

They ask her a question about the mirror and she gets really aggro when it’s referred to as “her” mirror as she would very much like to be out of it. The woman really wants to get out and says she can give them lots of power if they help. Sam pulls out her compact Mirror of the Past (magic item that does basically what you’d expect--shows you info from something’s past though in a cryptic way usually) to try and get some info on this thing and just barely avoids losing her mind in the process because this thing is ancient. Like eons old. She also learns the woman’s name (or maybe title): The Ending of Things (will be calling her Ending for now).

Yikes!

Right around now the other girls come in and can see at the angle they’re looking at her at the woman in the mirror is Not Really A Person and Antiope points at her and reflexively casts a ranger sense spell to try and clock its weaknesses and stuff but Ending grabs the spell energy like a lasso and tries to drag her into the mirror. She does however find out that she’s stacked with hella resistances (total immunity to necrotic damage and non-maj weapons, resistance to most elemental damage, and more).

Sam briefly considers using Lightning Lure to pull Antiope back before deciding on a much less ouchy Counterspell. Unfortunately, it’s not strong enough and now she’s being pulled in by her spell energy too. Yelle casts Erupting Earth which has some pros and cons.

Pros: Antiope and Sam are saved! Yay!

Cons: The mirror breaks and whatever was in it is fully freed. Not yay!

Shortly after (but not before Penny gives everyone their new friendship bracelets), someone calls into the cave looking for them--it’s Fig’s mom, Sandra-Lynn (with new art)! She’s happy and impressed that everyone is OK (also, Katja and Sam both have little lines that foreshadow their ~parental issues~ for the season--Katja being very moved by the simple act of Sandra-Lynn showing up for them and Sam saying that in her experience moms can be very evil).

As they all leave the cave, they all do checks and get some info:

Ostentatia: The mirror was kinda like a palimpsest (the crystals they were trapped in) and whatever this thing is is ancient and powerful. 

Yelle: Gets the above info and the fact that when the thing left it wasn’t quite a bad vibe, just the vibe that something big and important is at play.

Penny: On an Arcana check she knows that what Danielle did 100% saved Antiope and Sam’s lives from whatever and wherever was on the either side of the mirror but the contact marked them in some way. 

Katja: With History she sees some Primordial writing which is the writing of elementals (one of the things Ending has resistances to which might be relevant; also Sam reads Primordial but doesn’t get to read what it says)

Antiope: She knows that she and Sam are connected to Ending now somehow but it’s a two way connection which means they can also use it to their advantage. 

Ostentatia casts Mending on the mirror shards which I think was to reconstruct the mirror but what it actually does is someone link their friendship bracelets. Cute!

And, with that, we cut to the present a year and a half later (which is Jr or Sr year for everyone). 

We hop from kid to kid as they get ready to head in to school and get glimpses into their homes lives! Let’s do a quick rundown for each girl:

Antiope Jones

We see that Antiope is the youngest of five in what is essentially a military family full of basically every kind of fighter (she says she basically lives in a “Crossfit box”). There’s an 8 year gap between her and her sister Corsica who is the second youngest so her parents are kind of already living like empty nesters. When she comes downstairs she is promptly handed a protein smoothie and told two pieces of info: (1) from Corsica she learns that she overheard at school --where she teaches--that Aguefort needs to talk to her for some reason but she won’t say why which annoys the crap out of Antiope and (2) her parents lined up an internship for her at the Ministry of Adventure. She and her mom verbally spar a bit about them being all up in her life and how stressed she is and how she likes what she has going now with the Seven but her mom wins ofc because she’s a Mom and also a master tactician with a deft hand for loving mom guilt. On the way to school her bros (who include a gunslinger and an eldritch knight cause they run the whole gamut of fighter classes) Facetime her like, “Yikes Ant, heard about what happened with Mom, this is why you don’t fight her lmao.”

Sam Nightingale

This is a heavy one so strap in. 

We check in with Sam who isn’t at her own family’s home but at Penelope’s family home which is off the bat eyebrow raising. It’s an upper middle class house and, on the way down, she has to pass Penelope’s bedroom which is conspicuously empty. Downstairs she’s greeted by Penelope’s human mom Rebecca who she learns is moving out soon because her elf husband is both cheating on her while away in Falinel and starting the divorce process. Sam clearly sees Penelope’s mom as a surrogate mom (for reasons we’ll learn in a second) and goes full ride or die assuring her that her ass is better than the ass of the woman he’s cheating with and offering to help burn his stuff even though drowning is more her specialty (she’s so cool). She also is a little stricken at the thought of Rebecca leaving her in the house alone but Rebecca says she can come with if she wants, she just didn’t want to disrupt her school life.

She also tells Rebecca that her bio-mom called recently which immediately sets Sam off. Through the convo we learn a couple of things:

Sam used to be an actor it seems.

And it seems like she was kicked out of the house after she transitioned or something similar which is why she lives with the Everpetals. 

Now that it’s more “fashionable” to to be trans (her mom’s words, not mine) she wants Sam to talk to her so they can get her back in the game.

Sam is having none of that and tells Rebecca to just delete her mom’s number. Then they have a cathartic session of burning her cheating husband’s shit before Sam leaves in Sebastian--her sentient, seafoam blue, self-driving car with a very hot male voice which I am extremely jealous of. She picks up Zelda on the way to school and they commiserate a little and have a heart to heart about adults and change and how much Zelda wants to body slam Sam’s mom. 

Penny Luckstone 

Penny’s house is a whirlwind of activity and her harried parents get her and her 19 young siblings ready for school (no wonder she’s such a good babysitter). We see where Penny gets her type-A ness from as her mom and dad both have this cheerful but overworked energy of “EVERYTHING IS FINE” like that Good Place sign. Her mom spares a second to tell her that she recently got a letter for The Society of Shadows which is like a super secret rogue college (which her parents assume is legit even though they haven’t heard of it cause they’re Mumple people and also, if you've heard of a rogue school, how good could it really be?) Penny is excited except that it would mean she’d have to move and leave her party. Her mom is like “hey it’s a full ride and there are 20 of you guys so just take that into consideration but it’s ultimately your decision” before she dashes away to get to work because it is always Go Go Go with the Luckstones. She texts Sam for a ride and Sam swings by to grab her. This is not plot relevant but she has a booster seat in the back of Sebastian with her name carved into it and it’s important to me that you know that. 

Katja Cleaver

Next up is Katja who lives in a Richie Rich style mansion and comes from very old money as she is descended from one of the first adventurers in Solace. She is in the barn with Cinnamon and the bugbear farrier they have employed (her name is Gertrude and a farrier is someone who does horseshoes). She eats the same breakfast as Cinnamon (hot dry oats and berries baybee) wo she loves so so dearly. Cinnamon is a magical horse--basically like a Find Steed spell that’s on all the time. She’s modeled the horse in her fave book series--the Babysitter’s Horse of course. Lockwood, the staff’s hobgoblin butler, is also there and they get a fantasy Zoom call from Katja’s dad who is in the middle of the insane 20th level adventurer stuff which he says might make him miss her graduation. She is extremely disappointed but just barely hides it from her dad (who seems to really care despite his not being around). She can’t hide it from the staff or Cinnamon however and Cinnamon offers to give her a ride to school via the scenic route. 

Note: We also learn two sad facts about Katja from the conversation with her dad.

Her mother is Disney Princess dead* and

She wears one half of a friendship necklace and it seems like she’s waiting for someone to give the other half to. It’s implied earlier that the way Penelope got her was by promising to be her best friend. Sad!

*Edit: Well, she’s gone and we’ll leave it at that until next recap. 

Ostentatia Wallace

Ostentatia wakes up and goes downstairs to have a very high energy in both directions interaction with her very fantasy-Italian mom and grandma. Her grandma is concerned her beard isn’t coming in--not knowing she shaves it on purpose which her mom is like, “Listen it’s fine but don’t tell grandma it’ll kill her.” She clocks very quickly that her dad isn’t there and his mithril working tools are gone. Her mom tries to play it off but she knows she’s being lied to and her mom relents. Her dad is at a meeting with the other workers of the shut down mithril factory and negotiations have ceased. It looks like he’s gonna be long term out of work. That explains where her dad is but not why the tools are missing. She decides to go do some investigating on her own and ambushes her dad in his car where, with the inaugural nat 20 of the season, she realizes he pawned his tools to get her 5 revivify diamonds. She's upset by this and he’s upset that she’s, in his eyes, questioning his ability to take care of his family. She’s like, alright, you did a thing for me, I’ll do a thing for you and she casts Animate Object to make his stuff steal itself back in a sequence that involves an animated crowbar using another crowbar which is just wild.

Danielle Barkstock

I’m gonna be real, Danielle’s life is exactly how you assume it is based on Who She Is As A Person so this one will be real short. Eco-friendly off the grid geodesic yurt. One super chill peace and love elf sorc mom and one rough and tough human ranger mom. She also knows and helps the Cubbies with their anarchist machinations because yeah, duh. She gets some messages from school on her crystal--one being a message from the principal saying that she and the rest of her party have first period off to meet with him and the other being a newsletter from the school showing, among other things, a photo of the Druid class doing a project but she’s not in it for some reason. She texts one of the other druids to see if she can figure out why she wasn’t invited but fully gets left on read. Brutal. Of course, she hasn’t messaged that person in 6-8 months so maybe that’s why.

Anyway, with that, all seven of our maidens make it to school and are all exuberant to see each other in a very teen girl way before getting to the principal’s office and learning that their party will be broken up at the year! 

Bad!

Superlatives 

I wanted to do something a little different for these recaps than the Bad Kid ones so instead of Honor Roll/Detention we are doing Superlatives and the inaugural one goes to...

Sam: Most Like To Survive a Horror Movie

Man she woke up chained in a ritual magic circle and she was Ready To Go Immediately. You will not catch this girl doing horror movie victim BS like exploring the spooky house or giving the creepy obvious ghost the time of day. She is hyper-competent and her goal is making it out alive and dragging her friends with her. Love her.  

Random Thoughts

The season immediately starts with a bang or I should say a bing with Izzy trying to say “bling bang” and accidentally saying, “bling bing” and immediately getting roasted by everyone. I love the authentic girl group vibes (which include everyone clowning on her then immediately hyping up Zelda to the max after being way more awkward). 

Handshake meme with Danielle and Moonshine from Naddpod. Also, Cinnamon and Horse from Centaurworld. 

I love that Rekha and Erika just straight up were like, “Our characters are Asian”. Like obviously, make your characters Asian coded in your fantasy world--all my D&D characters are black like me--but it’s funny that they completely disregarded the, “There’s no Asia in this world so I guess they’re this world’s equivalent to--” Nah just, “I’m a half-elf and I’m Asian.” You love to see it. 

I absolutely LOVE the choices the cast made to flesh out their characters based on the little info Brennan had about them, none moreso than rich horse girl Katja. Rekha is a genius. 

“I only want one thing and he’s working” KATJAAAAAAA

Man if I was in that flashback I would have been wilding out so much with my flashback plot armor. 

I appreciate that the first thing that Aabria has Antiope do is extremely uncool. I love it when players aren’t concerned about just being cool and on point all the time. Sometimes (read: often) that’s the less interesting choice. 

But on the exact opposite side, she’s a ranger and an arcane archer which I think is extremely cool. Lmao also I didn’t mention in the recap but she HATES dragons now which, understandable. I’m guessing they're her favored enemy. 

I can’t wait to see another group of kids interact w/ madman Aguefort. 

Also, as a known Aelwyn-stan, I am very excited for the possibility of the Seven interacting with her cause as much as I love her they are under no obligation to acknowledge her redemption arc and I would love to see them throw hands. 

I love the Greek myth naming scheme of Antiope’s extremely cool family as with her on the spot nickname “L-Cab” short for long caboose since she’s the youngest by a mile. 

Also this is out of character not in character but Sephie is an extremely cool nickname for Persephone. 

I wonder why Brennan didn’t let Sam read the Primordial in the cave. He just glossed right past her saying that she speaks it and she didn’t push it. Would it have solved his entire plot in the span of a flashback or was he just keeping things moving?

Sidenote, if I was married to an elf man and worried about aging like Rebecca, I would simply become a druid (or a monk or up my wizard levels so I could learn True Polymorph or Wish or something). 

I wonder what the deal with Ending is. She seemed relatively sincere in the mirror but that doesn’t mean anything. She could be sincere and also Very Bad News. 

There is an offhand comment by Brennan about how the dwarf forge god gives spells but doesn’t talk to his followers which I think means that Ostentatia is gonna be getting a direct god call soon enough. 

Also she mentions that her dad is doing some criminal activity on the side which seems like a Problem for later. Honestly all of the kids have some pretty rich parent drama happening which should be interesting to see explored. 

No nat 1s this ep and 1 nat 20 as I mention from Ostentatia. 

[bigteefsmallbrain]

General Soul Eater HCs please

Soul Eater: General headcanons

Death the Kid:

He’s an art critic

Hear me out

He is obsessed with symmetry, and loves the beauty in it

So when he sees something non-symmetrical, especially in art, he can’t help but to critique it

May go as far as to send a personal letter to the artist (If they’re alive) about how offensive it is that they created something so asymmetrical

If he can’t send a letter to the artist, he’ll send one to the owner/museum and request it be taken down, while listing reasons why it’s horrible.

Anything he writes has an even amount of letters and words

Be that his test answers

Essays

Letters

Diary entry

Speaking of diary entries, he definitely has one

But it’s actually just a catalogue of symmetrical things he’s seen

He puts photos into it and writes about how beautiful it was to see

He doesn’t care what it is much, just that it was beautiful

Meaning he takes photos of people too

Which can be unnerving at times

He’s probably taken a photography class before, or at the very least is self taught

Literally has a photo album of things he views are beautiful, but non symmetrical and he would die if anyone found it

Like a particular sunset with uneven hills

Or a flower with one too many petals

Definitely has an 8 ball, not a magic one, just an 8 ball, it’s placed on a velvet pillow in his room and he frequently polishes it

Elizabeth Thompson:

Makes several backup plans as a way to cope

Especially after dealing with an experience with a ghost

She has notebooks full of them, labeled and detailed

At one point she started putting them in alphabetical order but stopped immediately when she realized Kid’s perfectionist habits were rubbing off on her

She practices acting in the mirror

Usually so she can charm a man into dating her

But also to con people

She used to be a “Street rat” and that thought of ending up on the streets again constantly plagues her mind

She takes full advantage of the “Rich life”

Shopping sprees

Quality makeup

Salons and spa days

The works

She lets Patty’s thought that she knows everything get to her head

The fact alone that her sister believes in her that much is enough to make her a bit egotistical

And Patty’s admiration for the girl makes it ten times worse

She literally doesn’t care if she ends up being wrong because she’ll just be right next time anyways

So stubborn in that aspect

Patricia Thompson:

She likes dark humor

You can’t convince me otherwise, you actually can’t, I have evidence

She made an origami Giraffe, and broke its neck

Laughed when Kid said he “wants to die”

She literally pokes him with a stick when he’s depressed

She likes dark humor, and probably looks up jokes to tell others just for kicks

She’s secretly sadistic, and likes scaring her sister and others

She may act naïve and innocent, but she is anything but

She definitely has, more than once, banged on Liz’s door at 3AM just to hear her sister squeal like a little girl

Honestly, she probably purposefully gets their pose wrong, just to see her sisters annoyance and laugh when Kid gets smacked

She likes origami

Probably first got into it because of the paper ninja stars

Then just found it relaxing

She most likely makes the ninja stars mostly, and keeps a box of her origami creations somewhere

Has in the past, and will not hesitate to do so again, beat someone up for kicks or just to destress

Patty has two faces, the childlike innocent one, and the insane anger one

So it’s not too far fetched to say that she’ll hide her anger till she can corner someone alone and beat them up

Or that she gets bored and decides to do so

I wouldn’t be too surprised if her sister occasionally joined as well

Maka Albarn:

She’s a Harry Potter nerd and you can’t convince me otherwise

She loves the concept of magic

Loves the dynamic between Ron and Hermione, though feels a bit of Deja vu thinking about it

Probably used to write fanfiction, but in a way that made it seem like it was actually part of the story

She will hit you if you mention it

Definitely the type to compare books to their movie counterparts

Not in like, a critic way, but she will definitely rant about the differences, or how a character looks exactly like she imagined, or if they didn’t put in a particular scene she liked in the book

Forces Soul into movie nights, but it’s only the movie counterparts to her books

I can see her forcing everyone into a group study session

Be super organized about it, and setting it up in a way so that no one can refuse

She probably has specific ways for everyone to study

Like having Black☆Star work out while studying so he retains the knowledge better

Or setting up the session in a symmetrical way so Kid doesn’t freak out about it

She writes letters to her mom, as a coping mechanism for when her emotions get to be a little too much

Like when she’s having a bad day

Or if she’s particularly peeved at something Soul did

She writes a lot more letters when it comes around the time of her mom's birthday or death anniversary

She likes the thought of an old timey romance, and often listens to songs that give off that kind of feel

She really likes “It’s Been a Long, Long Time”, it’s one of her favorites

She also likes the old Disney songs, like “Once Upon a Dream” and “So This Is Love”

She would be so embarrassed if anyone found out though, especially if it was her dad or Soul

She isn’t quite sure why she’s so worried about Soul finding out though

Speaking of, she half realizes, half doesn’t with anyone's romantic feelings, including her own

She’ll fantasize about getting a love letter or having someone present her with a bouquet of roses

But if it actually happens she’s like “Oh, thanks friend!”

She knows the behaviors, she just can’t put two and two together

They would have to be extremely blunt, no over dramatic confession, just “I’m in love with you and want to be romantically involved with you”

She reads dictionaries for fun

She really likes to read out of date dictionaries, just to see what words and slang existed back then

She also highlights words she likes and uses them frequently on accident

She has most definitely yelled “I have cupid’s kettlebells*! I’m not flat!” at Soul before

Soul Evans:

Bottles. Up. His. Emotions.

He’s influenced by “toxic masculinity” and fully believes that being vulnerable in a serious way “isn’t cool”

He will bottle everything up so deep down inside that it seems impossible for it to surface

Feelings of inferiority to others? Bottled

Want to cry or break down? Nope, gotta be cool

Started crying in front of someone and can’t stop? He’s not crying, you’re clearly blind

Speaking of crying, once he starts, and I mean genuinely starts, it’s so hard to get him to calm down, and even then the tears don’t stop

Sometimes he’ll start to freak out and send himself into a panic attack because the tears just won’t stop

He’s that influenced by the thought of being vulnerable

On a lighter note, he does adore playing the piano, but the only person he’ll play for is Maka

He swears it’s not favoritism, and it’s partially true, but favoritism does play a large role in it

He frequently drags Maka to his room to show her a new piece he put together

And if he notices her feeling a little down that day, he’ll start playing a song that he knows she likes

He definitely knows about her love for old timey romance songs and is very embarrassed to admit a lot of the pieces he constructs are based off of that

The walls are p a p e r t h i n , he can hear her music through the walls

He secretly finds it adorable when he catches her listening to it because she’ll be dancing around to it

He also frequently finds himself thinking about those moments

He’s the stereotype that parents tell little girls about, with how boys will bully their crush

He’s a lot more playful and easy going, but still teases Maka, so much

Unlike Maka, he’s fully aware of his feelings, and acknowledges them, but bottles it up, only letting himself entertain the thought every once in a while

He jabs at Maka’s lack of “Cupids Kettlebells” as a way to try and ensure she won’t fall for him, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if she does

He reads the same dictionaries that Maka does, not for fun, but so he can know just what the actual h e l l she’s saying

More than once he’s had to look up a particular word or phrase online because he can’t find it in the dictionary

“What the hell? It’s an old Victorian saying!? Where does she keep finding this stuff!?”

Subconsciously, as time goes on, he starts using old phrases as well, he was so embarrassed the first time he got caught saying “Keep your idle daddles* off of her!” when defending someone from a perv.

Black☆Star:

Is so unbelievably selfish with food

It’s not even funny

He will stab someone if they reach for his food

He surprisingly eats healthy most of the time though?

Says something like “I have to otherwise I’ll never surpass the gods!”

The only person who could ever p o s s i b l y steal his food is Tsubaki, but even that’s pushing it

He has the weirdest dreams, and I mean weird

Dreams like being turned into a potato and being cooked, mashed, and devoured by Tsubaki herself

He didn’t talk to her for a week after that dream, and refused to eat potatoes for a full year because “You never know if it could be a person turned into a potato!”

He was also very offended when Tsubaki ate potatoes during that time period

He takes things very literally

Like up above, if someone does something in a dream, he acts like it was real

Or if someone makes a joke about fighting, he will drag them outside to fight

He’s secretly scared of Tsubaki

But it’s for literally the stupidest reason

And he fully believes that because of it she could fight god and win

She used to have a pet cockroach

One of the flying ones

And he is so unbelievably scared of them, because for some reason they just don’t die, and they have w i n g s

So the fact she owned one as a pet scares him so bad even though it was literally for only a week

He has a soft spot for children

He doesn’t really know why

He just does

Is secretly really good with kids

Literally the definition of dad material

He has his flaws but still

Little kids are the only people who could steal his food and get away with it

Every. Time. and it makes the others so mad

Tsubaki Nakatsukasa:

What can I say, she’s perfect

She probably receives love letters

Reads them over when she’s feeling sad

Likes to keep them in a shoebox she painted

She definitely paints to unwind and relax

Likes to go outside and paint the sunrise/sunset

Takes note of beautiful scenery so she can come back in her free time and paint it

She probably draws/sketches too

Carries a sketchbook with her

More than likely has drawn Black☆Star doing something

Like napping or training

She’d never show him though, too scared of inflating his ego or giving him the wrong idea

Stress bakes/cooks

We know she cooks

Liz took advantage of it and pretended Tsubaki’s cooking was her own

So we know she does

Sometimes painting/drawing doesn’t cut it

So she heads to the kitchen and bakes away her worries and unwinds

The main reason Tsubaki would possibly be spared from Black☆Star’s stabbing habit with food is because she cooks all the meals

She makes sure everyone is comfortable around her

She’ll go as far as to learn someone's customs and practice cooking their unique cuisine just to make sure that they feel comfortable and safe in her presence

She radiates mom friend energy

She’s perfect mom material, perfect wife material, perfect in general honestly

*Cupid's Kettlebells is a old term for a woman's bust

*Idle daddles is a old term for hands

I Hope you like these general headcanons for the main seven! You didn’t say which characters you’d like to see, so I played it safe by putting the main characters! Thank you for the ask!