#blathers stole my heart

[whatagalaxy]

Animal Crossing New Leaf

I know not many people are playing this game anymore but I got the Welcome Luxury rom hack and fell in love with the game all over again. I used to play it and I spent hundreds of hours on multiple towns but I've lost all them and felt like I didn't make much progress anyways in making a good looking town. I started a whole project (that is more passion than vision lol) and now I'm contemplating making a blog for it and my Wild World town I also started, (though neglecting for my superior new leaf game) I am cheating somewhat (define cheating?), time travel, and I plan to use a town editor, I've always wanted to but I never could when I use to play the game, my main motivation for playing it now and I still just haven't done it lmao My goal is to make an aesthetic town that I'm happy with, and unlock all the things I never have as quickly as possible, which still means spending the entire day playing it, I quickly got my animal crossing (time travel) addiction back xD but it makes me happy so it's fine, I've been scouring many places for good paths and QR Codes though I'm still working on the vision of my town, I've made good progress, it's no where near done so I'm hesitant to post screenshots but I think it's a good start.

If there's anyone who would like to trade I would be happy to send you my friend code, I am looking for more native-type fruits in my town, currently, I have peaches and cherries, and an abundance of perfect peaches. Specifically, I am looking for apples but all fruit is good. I think you can do more with travelling but I cannot remember.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

(from wikipedia) The Malleus is a bone situated in the middle ear. It is the first of the three ossicles, and attached to the tympanic membrane. The head of the Malleus is the large protruding section, which attaches to the incus. The head connects to the neck of Malleus. The bone continues as the handle (or manubrium) of Malleus, which connects to the tympanic membrane. Between the neck and handle of the Malleus, lateral and anterior processes emerge from the bone. The bone is oriented so that

Omg, malleus (hammer)-sama real? 😱

This interaction is vaguely inspired by a really romantically charged wall slamming scene in a K-drama I’ve recently been watching—

Like Fire, Hellfire.

You ran a finger along the next line of the anatomy and physiology textbook in your hands, reciting the words aloud. The chapter was on hearing and the various components of the human ear. You stressed malleus loudly each time the bone came up, grinning madly all the while.

Beside you, Rollo paused in rifling through the bookshelf and shot you a sideways stink eye. He had come the school archives in search of knowledge, not annoyance—yet here you were, acutely aware of how to get under his skin, and doing an excellent job of it.

What an irksome individual.

Handkerchief to his face, Rollo snidely asked, “… Are you quite finished?”

“No, never,” you gasped, innocently batting your lashes at him. (Rollo’s left eye twitched.) “A good student is always on a quest for new wisdom, so I have to study up on the malleus while I still can.”

“At least read it to yourself quietly; this is a library, not a concert grounds. You are so rudely disrupting the concentration of your peers.”

Namely, myself.

He didn’t want to confess it—certainly not out loud—but you had been distracting him ever since you first stepped into the room. Rollo had stole several suspicious looks at you since, glances he justified to himself with, What must they be up to now?

Your goofy grin, your earnest and open heart. They all put him on edge, set the beat to his heart at a rapid, uneasy hammer.

A minion of evil, come to ensnare him into committing vices.

Rollo took a sharp breath to calm himself.

“They can learn about the malleus too,” you said, flipping to the next page. “I’m a free educational audiobook.”

“Then pick something else to blather on about,” Rollo insisted sharply.

“What, do you have something against the malleus?“

His face heated with fury, eyes flashing dangerously. If I hear that man’s name on your lips one more time, my head is going to explode.

“Just tell me your true feelings then,” you urged with a pout. “Tell me how you feel about the mal…”

He moved before you had even registered it. His hand was on your book, shunted shut with a CLAP!! You squeaked, leaping desperately for it—but a tall shadow had fallen into your path.

SLAM!!

A fist came down hard beside you, walling you in between a livid Rollo Flamme and the bookcase to your back. He glared down at you, face twisting with disdain. Gone was his neutral expression, replaced with cruel eyes and a cold, creased scowl.

You gulped, suddenly feeling like a mouse caught in a trap.

“You would do well to listen and be obedient,” he hissed darkly. “Do not speak his name, for you will summon him like the demon he is.”

The only name you should be speaking is…

He banished the blasphemous line from his head. Cursed it, damned it to hell.

Rollo tore the book from your hold and abruptly stepped away. He still hummed with warmth—an exhilarating blend of rage, envy, and, most disgusting of all, desire. Hot, burning, hungry.

He hurriedly stamped it out as though it were an item unintentionally set ablaze. Stuffed it in an ash pile, along with everything else burnt away to black. Happiness, hope.

Love.

“… I will be returning this to its rightful place,” he spat out. “While I am gone, you should reflect on your actions and repent.”

Rollo didn’t wait for a response—he was already gone before you could reach for him.

A hand of acceptance, rejected before it had even been offered.

[goat-and-a-pig]

Chapter 2

Stan was running from the law… again. If he thought about it, he supposed he’d been running his whole life. First from responsibility and blame, then from his mistakes that got him kicked out, and now, from the law, like he had been doing for the past forty years- or his whole life if you thought about it-

“Hey you! Stop in the name of the law!”

Oh right. He was being chased. “Try and catch me, suckers!” He stuck his tongue out at the Royal Guard.

“Stud! Focus on running, you idiot!” Right. He also wasn’t running alone. “Don’t worry, Gleeful. I got the journal. This way!” Stan took off down a corridor with Bud and Gideon Gleeful trailing behind him. They ran and ran until-

“Excuse me?” Stan ripped a poster down. “Do you see this? This- This-” he sputtered. “-MONSTROSITY?”

“What in tarnation are you blathering about?” Gideon glared at him.

“They spelled my name wrong!” Stan held up the poster. It read, “WANTED: STUD PILFIR”

Gideon just stared at him. “Are you KIDDING me?” He demanded. “Hate to interrupt,” Bud interrupted. “But we are still on the run. We need to go.” Stan huffed in annoyance, stuffed the poster into his bag, and dashed off again. They came into a backup ballroom that seemed familiar. And dusty. There was a staircase leading up to a balcony with a door and a hallway that was above a stage. There was no visible staircase leading up to the balcony, but they didn’t have time to waste looking for it. Stan looked at the situation, then came to a conclusion.

“Lift me up to the balcony. From there, I’ll pull Gideon up and we’ll get you up together, Bud,” Stan explained. “Alright, but give me the journal first.” Stan stared back in mock shock. “You don’t trust me? After everything we’ve been through?”

“Nope.”

“Ouch.” Stan held a hand over his heart, then sighed. “Fine.” He handed Journal 1 to Gideon. They lifted him up to the balcony with much effort.

“Now,” Gideon heaved. “Get me up there, Stud.” Stan pretended to consider it for a moment. “Nah,” he decided. “I’m okay.”

“B-but we had a deal!” Gideon stammered. Stan laughed. “Yeah- to steal Journal 1, not to help each other escape.”

Gideon smirked. “We still have the journals. You can’t leave without them. And I’m not giving them to you! You went back on your word! We were supposed to rule the world!”

Stan chuckled. “I’ve never wanted to rule. I just want my-” he caught himself. “-Money,” he finished. “Besides, I don’t need you, I’ve already gone ahead unburdened you of both Journal 1 and Journal 2. You’re welcome.” Gideon looked around in his pockets in shock. Stan held them up. “Thanks anyway. Enjoy jail!” Gideon waved his fist at him angrily. “I rebuke thee, Stud Pilfer! I rebuke thee,” he whispered creepily.

He heard footsteps getting closer, so he jiggled the doorknob. It was locked. He got out his lockpick kit. “Come on, Stan. Just like in Columbia,” he whispered while the Gleefuls struggled to get on the balcony.

“Aha! He exclaimed as the lock popped open. “¡Adiós, amigos!” He shouted as he closed the door behind himself and the lock clicked shut.

_____

Stan’s legs ached from walking down all of the stairs. He’d already had to run at least a mile today, now he had to walk down a bajillion stairs?

“Finally,” he grumbled as he finally saw another door. Would he ever make it out of this stupid castle? His whole life he’d been trying to- “Hot Belgian waffles!” He exclaimed as he opened the door. Inside was an odd contraption that was shaped like an upside down triangle. But Stan knew that only one person could have built this, only one thing that it could be-

“The portal,” he gasped in awe. Stan was dumbfounded. He stole Journals 1, 2, and 3 (he’d liberated it from that stupid guard that was too fast for his own good. Why was he sort of a horse? Why did he have Journal 3? Why was he a guard? He looked like he was ten or something! Ugh.) for this very purpose. And lo and behold, he found it fully built with the supplies needed to fire it up right beside it! This is the king’s portal. I’m just surprised it’s still fully stocked. Well, he considered, maybe not too surprised.

He got to work.

_____

Stan was sweaty. Those barrels of waste were really heavy.

But it was done.

It turned on, the timer finally finished. How long had it been? Stan felt like he hadn’t slept for days. But he was finally finished.

“It will all have been worth it…” He jumped.

_____

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Stan yelled out into space. Eventually he walked into view of the strangest thing he’d seen all day. (And that was saying a lot.)

It was tall, silver, and looked somewhat like a cartoon rocket ship, with strange symbols running down the sides. It had one circular window near the top. (Stan wasn’t dumb enough to think that real rocket ships looked like this, so what was this weird one doing here that definitely couldn’t actually fly?)

“Hello? Is anyone up there?” Stan tried again. Well, he thought, I’ll just have to get up there myself. I’ll see much better up there anyway. So he took out his grappling hook and rappelled himself to the window-looking thing. When he went inside, his eyes popped out of his forehead.

“Ford?”

[athenavine]

Ah, hello delayed anxiety reaction. I’m afraid we didn’t book a hotel space for you, so you’ll have to move along.

[cas-kingdom]

“For someone who’s totally selling the monster-killing, impassive mystique, you’re surprisingly kid-friendly.”

"For someone who’s totally selling the monster-killing, impassive mystique, you’re surprisingly kid-friendly.”

Geralt looked disgusted for a moment, but then that seemed to be a daily thing he had no control over. Still, he turned back to stoking the fire with an added warmth in his slowly-thawing heart that he knew wasn’t coming from the flame. “Thanks,” he grumbled, unsure if Jaskier had even meant it as a compliment.

“Seriously though, I’m surprised she’s got all four limbs...ten fingers, ten toes...” Akela giggled as Jaskier pinched each tiny digit, and he laughed, reverting back to the baby talk Geralt had to refrain from commenting on. Though he was genuinely glad Jaskier seemed to like the baby, it was still an introduction most unbefitting of him. Of a witcher. He’d known Jaskier for some years, not quite maintaining much of a relationship but certainly becoming at least acquaintances. There was obviously something there, because Geralt had gone searching for the bard purposefully, with no reason other than a subconscious desire to have him meet the baby he’d come to be guardian over. He wasn’t completely sure why the desire had existed. Perhaps he was in need of support after leaving Kaer Morhen and the welcomed assistance of his brothers. Perhaps he was aching for a real fight but needed to ensure the baby’s safety first. Or, perhaps, just simply, he wanted Jaskier to meet her.

Whatever it was, he didn’t think on it, unsure what that would help.

“You know what?” Jaskier had ceased his baby talk, propping the baby on his knee. She was little over four months now and was working on keeping her head up by herself, but Jaskier still had one hand supporting her. “I see the resemblance.”

Despite himself, Geralt scoffed. “That’s impossible, all things considered.”

“What’s ‘all things’?” Jaskier asked. His eyes suddenly widened. “You stole her? Geralt, please don’t tell me you stole this child.”

“What? No, I—” Geralt glanced over his shoulder to glare. “Jaskier, you did not believe she was mine biologically.”

Jaskier shrugged, allowing the baby to chew on the strings of his tunic. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe I thought they’d...reversed...it?”

“You are as brainless as you look, Bard.” Geralt turned his back on him once again, shaking his head to himself.

“Alright, alright, I hadn’t really thought that true.” He bounced the baby on his knee. “You can’t blame me. Witcher best friend says “come meet my new baby” and all kinds of things run through your head. I still haven’t landed on one answer, you know.”

To save himself from the incessant blathering, Geralt roughly interrupted with the answer Jaskier was searching for with little use of his words and brain. “She’d been abandoned, so I took her,” he informed the bard monotonously. He’d had to explain this a number of times, mostly to the witchers of Kaer Morhen when they’d continuously asked him to repeat it, just to ensure they were hearing right. The words still hadn’t quite lost their discomfort.

“So...” Jaskier took a second. “You did steal her?” The look the witcher sent him froze his blood and he removed one hand from the baby to hold it, palm up, in his direction. “Joking,” he assured him. Geralt didn’t look very assured. Still, Jaskier continued, figuring the baby in his arms was enough leverage to escape bodily harm. “Why did you take her? I mean, sure, I’d do it, but you—” He paused for a moment, evidently thinking over his words. “You know what? Never mind. It really doesn’t matter.”

“You think it’s a bad idea.”

Jaskier contorted his face into one of deep thought, silent for a few blissful seconds before he opened his mouth once more. “I don’t, actually,” he decided on. Geralt’s hand paused in its stoking. “I get that you can’t really fight everything that goes bump in the night with a baby on board...but in the long run, I think this might be good for you. Got to start looking out for yourself at some point, right?”

“Hm.” Vesemir had said something similar.

“Yeah, you ‘hm’ away. Baby and I will have a wonderful conversation about all the child-proof adventures we’re going to go on as a trio.”

“A trio?”

“What’s her name, by the way? Does she have one? Because I have a baby name list somewhere...let me find—”

“Akela,” Geralt said. The name rolled off his tongue, the only familiarity about this situation that brought an ease to his battle-hardened soul. He’d spent countless nights since he’d found her, on his back, the baby sprawled across his chest as she slept and he whispered the name to himself, wondering how many more times he’d speak it. 

“Huh,” Jaskier said, obviously finished with his mental criticising of the name the witcher had chosen. “That’s good enough. Though I think Jaskier Jr. has more of a ring to it.”

Witcher Masterpost

send me the first sentence of a fanfic and i’ll write the next five, except i don’t know when to stop writing so i guarantee there’ll be more than five

[jellifysh]

college au drabble: part ♡

in which the boys celebrate valentine's day with you

--

Valentine's day, you sighed. Such a drag. Confessions left and right, people's displays of affection taking up space on all the paths. It was so annoying to have to walk around them blocking the way. But it was fun to don heart covered clothes without it being out of place one day per year. If there was one thing about you, it's that you dressed for the occasion.

One more look in the mirror, eyeliner with pink accents, tights with hearts woven into the mesh, heart shaped earrings. You sighed in contentment, your appearance being perfect with a capital P. But, you frowned, for someone so cute, you really were so single.

Part of that was by choice. You could have a boyfriend by now, but it wouldn't be right, not when you were still reeling over Jungkook's rejection. Your eyes glazed over as you thought about that freak night you confessed. You were watching a movie, the lights down low, cuddled under the same blanket. It was so perfect you almost forgot Jungkook was one of the school's top fuckboys.

But, at least you were still friends. You still had movie nights and you had one later, where you could snuggle up all close on the couch and pretend for just a second that he had said yes all those nights ago.

You opened your the door of your apartment heading out to classes.

Or you would've headed out to classes, had there not been a five foot stuffed animal in front of your door.

"Happy valentine's day, gorgeous!" Jimin stood behind it, leaning on its head as he held out a giant bouquet of roses towards you. You blinked, dumbfounded at the giant pink bunny, hardly sparing him a glance.

"How did you even get this up here? I live on the third floor."

"Elevator, duh. And it's not that heavy." He shook the bouquet. "Aren't you going to take it, pretty? I'm asking you to be my valentine today!"

"Don't accept it, Y/nie!" You heard a yell from down the hall, craning your neck around the plushie to see Taehyung dragging a bigger stuffed animal towards you.

Jimin gasped in betrayal. You stole my idea!"

"I came up with it first!"

You watched them bicker for a second, then pulled the stuffed animals into your house and walked off, them still arguing in front of your door. They probably wouldn't even notice you were gone until you were sitting in class.

You walked out of your apartment building, seeing Jungkook leaning against his car on the curb waiting for you. "Hey," he smiled, big and charming and you supressed the flutter in you chest.

"Hey," you smiled back. "We're still on for later?"

"Oh, I don't know." He scratched the back of his neck. "Chrissie might call, she said she wanted to hang out tonight." He shrugged, then seeing your crestfallen face, he added, "But if she doesn't, we can hang."

Oh, Jeon Jungkook. How incredibly stupid you are sometimes. You deflated a bit, previous good mood gone.

"Right. Well, are we going to class then?" You pulled open the passenger side door and he nodded, going around to drive. You watched the cool confident way he navigated the streets, checking him out while he couldn't tell you were looking.

If past you could see you now, she'd be so disappointed. You swore to yourself you'd never be one to chase or pine after a man, but Jungkook was different. He treated you differently, you were his best friend, he had told you things he had never told anyone, and yet... maybe you read the signs wrong. But it didn't matter because you will get over him and move on. There were lots more guys you knew that would do anything to be with you, if Jungkook can't see you for what you were that was his loss.

You strutted into the school with Jungkook by your side, listening to him blather on about some gaming thing, probably his busted the aiming mechanics for Valorant were or whatever his latest obsession was.

"Kookiebun!" The most annoying voice in the world squealed, jumping onto the boy at your side. Chrissie, you rolled your eyes. Jungkook turned you down, but this glitter personification gets his attention.

You breathed in and out, calming yourself. Girls support girls, you said to yourself in your head. She's just a another girl Jungkook's dating, no problem.

Chrissie looked over at you, eyes open wide in faux surprise. "Oh, sorry I didn't see you there... I forgot your name! What was it again?"

"Nunya Business." You smiled venomously.

Jungkook gave you a pleading look, imploring you to be nice and you looked away. "I'm gonna be late to class. See you around, I guess." You walked away, ignoring Jungkook calling your name, once, twice, and then not again.

You shook your head. The one person who treated you like a priority, the one person you allowed yourself to get close to and feelings had to complicate the whole thing.

"Wifey!"

You stopped in your tracks, your vision clearing from the haze of thoughts and focusing on the man before you. Kim Seokjin. You smiled, genuinely happy to see him. He was a complete dork, but he was pretty and he always brought you--

"I have cookies! I made your favorites for Valentine's day. I also made these little cheesecake bites and some brownies and cupcakes, and I bought these caramel filled chocolate bars because I now you said that you liked those best--"

"Thank you, Jin." You cut him off, taking the box from him. He was pretty, but man, did he talk. "This looks amazing."

"Of course, only the best for my wife." He boasted loudly, garnering weird looks from people nearby in the hall. "You want me to walk you to class?"

"You don't have to." You shook your head, walking past him and he followed, falling in step with you.

"I want to." He leaned over, trying to get a better look at your face. "Are you okay? I don't see your beautiful smile." He teased you with cheesy

"I'm smiling right now. See?" You turned to him and did a big smile, then dropped it.

He rolled his eyes in amusement. "No, that's the fake smile you do for your Instagram posts. Your real smile is prettier."

You shook your head, focusing on the path in front of you. "I'm fine Jin."

"Sure." He replied dubiously as you approached your lecture hall. He grabbed your hand and pulled you aside, saying, "Before you go to class, I wanted to talk to you."

"Aren't we talking now?"

He rolled his eyes again, smiling anyways, moving in closer and moving his hands to your back as he held you. "I wanted to tell you Happy Valentine's day, and you are the most beautiful, sweetest, smartest, coolest, most fashionable girl in the world," you started giggling at the cheesy speech, and he pushed on, struggling not to succumb to your contagious laughter. "And I'm glad that we've gotten closer this year. I don't know what would've happened if I hadn't met you." He smiled softly as you looked up at him.

You calmed your laughter as his speech took on a more serious heartfelt tone, replying smartly, "You'd probably still have some of your sanity."

"Right. Because you drive me crazy." He joked, planting lots of light kisses on your cheek, making you giggle again and push him away. "There's my beautiful smile. Have a good day, Y/n."

"You too." You smiled, watching aa he started to walk away-- backwards, so he could keep his eyes on you longer-- and walked into your class. A couple minute before class was set to start, you sitting with your notes spread in front of you and nibbling in some of the sweets Jin made you, Jimin and Taehyung burst in the front door dramatically, pointing at you in the back of the class. "There she is!"

You rolled your eyes and they rushed up the stairs towards you, making a such a mess that everyone turned their heads to watch the two idiots scramble towards you. "You left us!"

"You're causing a scene." You replied with contradicting calm, taking a bite out of the brownies.

"Ooh, those are the treats Jin made." Taehyung said, slipping into a seat beside you. He took a brownie out of the box without asking.

"He made a mess of our kitchen to make all of these." Jimin said, sitting and eating out of the box as well.

"It's not like you guys ever go in there yourselves." You commented, dusting your hands off as you resigned yourself to letting them devour the sweets you had left over.

"Jin yells at us when we do!" Taehyung whined in defense, chocolate smeared on his lip.

"Because you mess everything up." You countered, wiping the smudge off and he shrugged unapologetically.

"Can we have the rest of these?" Jimin pointed at the half eaten box and you shrugged in agreement. You had already eaten most of it and taken a picture to post later. "Awesome! Are you free for lunch?" He asked, pulling the box more towards him.

"Yeah." You responded, and Taehyung wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

"Good. We're taking you out." He announced with a proud smile.

You shook your head, your curls brushing against his arm. "I can't be out long. I reserved a private study room in the library for one."

"We can do an hour."

After your boring lecture, Jimin and Taehyung immediately pulled you up from your seat, picking up your things for you and escorting you out the door before the professor could even finish his lame joke. You all went out to the parking lot, them pulling you over to Taehyung's slick black convertible.

"Y/n!" Someone called your name. You would know that voice anywhere.

You whipped your head around. Jungkook. He was climbing out of his car a few yards across the lot. He looked at Jimin and Taehyung flanking your sides and narrowed his eyes. "Where are you headed?" He asked suspiciously.

"We're going on a Valentine's day date, Jeon." Jimin bragged, opening the door for you.

Jungkook's eyes widened in shock then narrowed again. "Seriously?" He asked you, a conflicted look in his eye. You opened your mouth to explain, then saw Chrissie getting out of the passenger's side of Jungkook's car.

"Thanks for the donuts, Kookiebun, they were delicious." She kissed him on the cheek, grabbing her bag out of his backseat. "Walk me to class?" She asked, totally ignoring the tense conversation being had.

Your eyes narrowed, and you got in Taehyung's car without responding, no longer looking at Jungkook. "Let's go." You said to Taehyung.

He shared a look with Jimin and shrugged, the two of them hopping in and you peeled out of the parking lot.

You sulked, the wind whipping your hair around your face and glared at the swirl of your surroundings as Taehyung zoomed down the street. A hand brushed your leg and you looked up to see Jimin in the passenger seat turned towards you, reaching for your hand. You placed your hand in his and he squeezed it, understanding in his eyes. "It's okay." He mouthed, and you felt your lip wobble.

"Here we are!" Taehyung said finally, parking in the lot of a cute upscale cafe. "We know how you like eating fancy every once in a while."

You blinked up at the building with awestruck eyes. "I've been wanting to go here for ages!" You gasped. Your door was pulled open for you by Jimin who smiled warmly at you.

"We know." He said, holding a hand out to help you out the backseat. "You won't shut up about it." He teased, and you slapped his hand playfully.

You were seated at a table and had your food brought to you in record time. Jimin and Taehyung must've somehow communicated the time crunch to the kitchen, because everything you ordered came out quick, the waiters constantly moving to and from your table.

"This is so amazing, thank you!" You gushed and they both gushed at how adorable you were, pasta sauce smeared on your lips. Taehyung wiped the spot off your cheek and gave the spot a peck, "The food isn't all, princess."

Jimin revealed a bag from under the table, the label Tiffany's printed in elegant font. "For you." He smiled warmly, passing it to you over the table.

"Oh my god," you practically tore open the bag, tossing the tissue paper aside and pulling out a Tiffany blue box. A bracelet and a ring were nestled atop black velvet, the stunning diamonds shining in contrast. "You guys... you didn't have to do this..." You gasped, awestruck, as you felt your eyes get wet.

"You deserve it," Jimin replied, looking you right in the eyes to show how much he meant it.

You laughed, looking up to hold back your tears. "Aren't you guys supposed to be fuckboys? What's with all the sappy stuff suddenly?"

"I don't why you talking to us about being fuck boys, it's not like you're any better." Taehyung chuckled, tossing a balled up napkin at you.

"Excuse me, I have standards." You flicked it back, hitting Jimin right on the nose.

"So do we." He responded, raising an eyebrow. "Why do you think we always hang around you?"

You scoffed at that, getting flustereed and looking away, not sure what to say to the indirectly direct compliment. Your hand fidgeting, picking up your phone and checking the time, dampening your good mood. "I gotta go. It's almost one."

Jimin and Taehyung paid for everything and dropped you off near the library. "Hey," Taehyung called after you from the driver's seat as you hopped out. You looked back at him, smiling warmly with the wind blowing at his and Jimin's hair, somehow still looking perfect. "Don't let that asshole Jungkook get to you, you're perfect, okay?" He winked and you smiled.

"Nothing gets to me," You said back. "I'm cold as ice, remember?" And with that they drove off, you heading into the library by yourself.

About half an hour into studying you slumped forward on your desk. This is a nightmare, you thought. Half a page of notes, and whole unit to review and you were stuck on lesson one.

You picked up your phone, taking a picture of the ring and bracelet to brag on Instagram, deciding to distract yourself with posting all your Valentine's day gifts so far. Loving valentine's day so far, but I would kill for a Vanilla Bean Cream Frappuccino. And post.

After scrolling for a while, you decided you had distracted yourself enough and tried to get back to studying, to no avail. Just as you were about to start looking up video lessons, your phone buzzed with a text.

Nerd: where are you rn?

You: in the library, in a study room

Nerd: which one?

You: 216

You: why???

No response. You rolled your eyes and put your phone down, picking up a different colored pen in hopes that it'd inspire your brain. A few minutes and the words later, a knock sounded on the door. You stood making your way to the window, peeking through the blinds and just barely making out Kim Namjoon, looking down at his phone. Your phone buzzed on the table again and you opened the door.

He looked up, smiling as soon as he saw you open the door. "Hey," he held out a cup practicality overflowing with whipped cream, his dimples coming out making him look absolutely adorable. "I got your drink."

You took the cup slowly, surprised. "I was just complaining. You didn't actually have to bring me one." He shrugged, and you noticed another bag in his hand. "What's that?"

"Why?" He smirked. "Looking for more presents?"

"Maybe." You opened the door wider, letting him come in. He walked over to the desk.

"Oof, less than a page of notes." He shook his head. "Having a tough time?"

"Yes! This lesson makes no sense, I don't understand this example at all. How would replacing the standard hydrogen cell with zinc make the electrode values for copper completely different? Wouldn't it just functuon like a regular Zinc-Copper battery?" You huffed, dropping into your seat unceremoniously. Chemistry was kicking your ass.

He looked at it over your shoulder, his arm caging you in on one side as he leaned down, studying it for a few moments. "Because the universal standard isn't zero anymore. You solve as if the zero is the electrode value of zinc, which means you add copper to zinc and that's your new value."

"Of course you understand it in five seconds." You lean back in your chair, fully pouting.

"It helps that I also took this class last year." He shrugged, kissing you on the cheek, and sitting in the chair on your left side. "I'll help you study if you need it, but you're doing great."

"Again, half a page of notes." You waved your notebook around, turning it so he could see it.

"Hey, some people in my class didn't take notes at all. Come on, you got this." His encouraging smile made you feel at ease and you studied, easier now that he was talking with you and walking you through it. You even finished studying the unit even earlier then you expected, flingung your arms around him in a hug.

"Thank you so much, oppa, you're the best!" You cheered.

He brought his arms up around you, squeezing you tight to his chest. "You're brilliant all on your own, baby girl." When you pulled back, he stroked your cheek softly, leaning in to kiss you slowly, almost reverently, like you were a gift he was trying to savor. Your lips disconnected with a soft pop as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth before pulling back fully. He pulled the bag in his hand again, handing it to you. "Here, open it."

Once again digging past tissue paper, you pulled out a small box. When you opened it, a gold necklace was inside with a pendant in the shape of an elephant with diamonds encrusted in it. "Namjoon," you breathed in awe. "This is beautiful."

"I know," his deep voice rumbled into your ear, his arms pulling you closer into his chest. "When I saw it, it reminded me of you." You looked up at him and smiled, him kissing you on the forehead. "I have to go now. Have a good day, y/n."

"You too." You replied, reluctantly letting go of him and watching him walk out.

Carrying on with your day, you were going to head back to your dorm and crash after the taxing study session, until you got another text.

danceypants: you free rn?

You: yea why?

danceypants: meet me at the studio 💕💕💕

You quickly changed into something more comfortable before heading over to the arts department. Hoseok was in his usual dance studio, talking with a crowd of three or four girls who had stopped by to flirt with him. He looked over, noticing you at the door and immediately stood, coming over to you with a big smile.

"Hey babe," He jogged over to you, pulling you close by the arms and kissing you on the lips. "Happy Valentine's Day."

You scrunched up your nose. "I've heard that too many times today." Not that you were actually sick of it. This was one of the best valentine's days you had ever had, but that was more because of the people you were spending it with.

"That's your fault for messing around with six people." He teased back, crossing his toned arms as he gazed down at you.

"I didn't expect you all to get sappy on me. I thought you were professionals." You raised a mocking eyebrow smugly. Professionals. It was something he had said to you once, at the start of your agreement. You had asked if he was the type to get attached and he told you no.

"Well," he started, looking you up and down with a intense glint in his eye. "You're something special."

"And you're a simp." You scoffed playfully. He chuckled, going to gather his things and wave goodbye to the girls still in the room as he led you out. "Only for you angel. I've got something planned too."

"Oh, really? This late?" You asked. It was almost sunset, usually he had plans at night.

"It's never too late for a date."

"That's not true. What if I called you up at 3am for a date?"

"I'd put on my shoes and meet you wherever you wanted."

"That's because you're crazy."

"If you wanted to have a date at 3 am I think you'd be the insane one." He joked. The both of you reached his old pickup truck, brat up and mud caked on the wheels, but he loved the thing anyway. "If we hurry we can watch the sunset at our spot." He said, helping lift you into the passenger seat.

"Our spot." You rolled your eyes. The phrase sounded so cheesy. "It's a public park."

"Yeah. But it's ours." He smiled at you, turning the ignition and the truck purred to life. By the time you reached the park, it was just about sundown, Hoseok driving a little further in for some seclusion from the other people milling about the fields. The two of you climbed into the truck bed, laying on a fluffy blanket Hoseok kept in his backseat for nights like this.

"How's your day going?" He asked, an arm around you as you laid your head on top of his chest.

You gazed up at the clouds, watching them turn cotton candy pink. "Fine, I guess. Grades are good, classes are boring as always, although I am taking a mythology class that's pretty engaging."

He pinched your waist lightly. "You know that's not what I meant."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm fine, seriously."

"Have you talked to Jungkook at all today?"

"Yeah, but not for long. He had to meet up with Chrissie."

"Have you told him about your feelings like we talked about?" He asked.

"No, because the last time I did that, it ruined everything. I decided it doesn't how I feel because it obviously doesn't change anything."

"It does matter how you feel. And if he cares about you, he'll understand that the distance he's putting between you is hurting you."

"You're too nice, Hobi." You said, looking up at him, noses an inch apart. "How are you?" You asked, giving him the space to share as well.

He grinned wide and you knew he was about to say something cheesy. "I'm fantastic. I'm here, gazing up at the sky with my favorite girl." He sighed in contentment, pressing a kiss to your hairline, his lips staying pressed to your head as he spoke again. "I don't usually celebrate, you know."

"No? I would've thought you always had a girl hanging off your arm."

"Yeah, but beside giving them flowers or something, I never really did much. Nothing like this anyway." He squeezed you a bit closer, bringing his other arm to wrap around you.

The two of you stayed there, warm and comfortable in silence, until a refill rolled across, the day officially becoming night and clouds blowing across the stars. Your phone buzzed in your pocket.

"Got other plans?" Hoseok asked, letting you pull back and check. You sat up, reading the message again to make sure you read it right.

"Jungkook said his date is canceled." You said in disbelief. "He wants to have movie night."

"Great! Now you can tell him how you feel," he teased tickling your sides. You laughed swatting his hands away.

"I'll think about it, but don't count on it."

"Come on, let's take a picture to remember this night." He whipped his phone out. "The first Valentine's day I've actually had a date on." He mused, snapping it as you smiled.

He sent it to you, climbing out the truck bed, "I'll drive you back." He said, sweeping you into his arms and carrying you into the passenger seat.

You both headed back to campus, him dropping you off with a wave and heading to his own place, and as you were about to head to Jungkook's place, your phone buzzed again.

d-boy: come to the observatory.

You: why?

d-boy: why can't anything ever be easy with you

You: go text ur other hoes

d-boy: what other hoes??

d-boy: your the one with hoes

d-boy: my only hoe is you

You: shut up, omw

There was some time left before you had to meet with Jungkook, so you made your way to the observatory. Yoongi's not the type to waste people's time so he must have something to say to you.

The observatory doubled as an assembly hall, rows and rows of seats rising towards the back of the room facing a stage and a platform to view the telescope on. You could see Yoongi in the front, legs kicked up over the seat in front of him as he leaned back looking up at the stars. You walked up to him, him only glancing in your direction to address you.

"You gonna sit down or what?"

You sat, and waited for him to say something. After a while of just gazing up the stars together through the observatory open roof, you asked, "Are you going to get all sappy on me too?"

He snickered, shaking his head. "Nah. I'm just going to say I'm happy to know you." He reached over, grabbing your hand and squeezing it gently. "I'm surprised tweedle dee and tweedle dum didn't smother you to death." He joked, referring to Jimin and Taehyung and their overwhelming nature.

"No, no, everyone was actually pretty chill today. Jin gave me his usual bucket load of kisses, Jimin and Taehyung kept their hands to themselves for once, and Namjoon helped me study."

"Mm." He hummed, nodding. "Did Joon give you the necklace?"

"The elephant one? Yeah, how'd you know?"

"He's had it for a while. Didn't know when you give it to you." He was weirdly silent after he said that, biting his lip and fingers fidgeting.

You waited to see if he'd say anything then said, "Did you want to give me something?"

He shifted once, then pulled a USB out of his other pocket. "I made a couple tracks. I didn't know which one to go with. None of them felt right. All of them felt right." And with that he placed it in your waiting palm, a heart scribbled onto the black case in white marker.

"Thank you. I'll listen to it as soon as possible." He smiled, a real genuine smile and leaned in to kiss you, soft and slow as opposed to the usual hungry way he kissed you. Everything about his behavior was uncharacteristic. Usually he was teasing and cool. His quietness wasn't usually accompanied by nervousness or gentleness. After pulling back, he had that same smile on his face.

"I think Jungkook's waiting on you." He said, and you checked the time. 7:51 pm. The time flew by while you were sitting in quietness with him and before you stood you opened the camera.

"I've been taking pictures all day. You wanna take one?"

He rolled his eyes but leaned in, pulling the mask up to cover his face. You snapped a picture posting that and the one with Hoseok, telling him to have a good night and leaving him to sit and brood.

You walked back to your room with a bounce in your step, today was incredible and you had been treated like you mattered. Valentine's day was usually filled with lazy presents, people you barely knew telling you that you were pretty and that you should hook up, but you've never actually found someone worth spending your time with like you have recently. It almost makes you feel better about Jungkook.

Who was leaning against your front door looking pissed.

"You're late."

You raised an eyebrow, confused at his attitude. "I was with Yoongi."

He scoffed, "I know." He pulled out hisphone, your Instagram page with all the stuff you've been doing today on the screen. "You've had a busy day today, huh?"

"I don't know why you're upset about what I do. Weren't you spending your day with Chrissie?"

"Just because you're jealous of Chrissie doesn't mean you need to flaunt you relationship with my friends to everybody, or go on a date with Jimin and Taehyung--"

"I'm not doing this because of you! I have my own life! It's not my fault your friends are interested on what you missed out on."

He took a sharp breath in, then closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, calming down. "I didn't-- I don't want to argue with you. I just..." Jungkook sighed, looking up at and you could see that he seemed sad. "I canceled the date I had with Chrissie so we could hang out, and then you weren't even here, I just... I'm sorry."

"You canceled your date?" You asked quietly, a bit surprised.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "We always have movie nights today, and it was wrong of me to try and change that. Just because things are... different doesn't mean we have to be weird about it." He smiled at you, albeit a bit awkwardly.

"Right." You nodded, unlocking your door. "But you can't expect me to sit around and wait for and then get upset when you have towards wait for once."

"I'm just... not ready to be what you want from me." He mumbled, walking in behind you.

"And that's okay." You said, resolve and dismissal in your tone, ending the conversation. It was clear now. You and Jungkook were friends and nothing more. You were not going to wait around for someone who couldn't reciprocate you energy. All today showed you was that you had other options who were happy to put you first.

It was time for a change.

[themonkeycabal]

Wandavision Ep 5 Spoilers

Wherein I watch Wandavision at a stupid hour of the morning because I do not sleep like a regular human being, and sometimes I have things to say.

Previously on Wandavision, we all discovered that Darcy Lewis and Jimmy Woo were the BFFs we never knew we needed and now can't live without. Also Wanda reminded us that she's really scary.

We should be in the 80s now, right? Ahh the 80s. Leg warmers, Aquanet, and MTV.

Baby shenanigans with crying twins. Wanda tries to magic them to sleep and it doesn't work. "Maybe we just need some help." And in pops Agnes without waiting for them to answer the door. As you do in a sitcom hell. She's got a headband and leg warmers on and is on her way to jazzercise. Of course. Is the point of Agnes to really anchor us in a decade? Asking for real. She's very "this is the era, and these are the tropes, let's all play along now."

Vision is very protective of the babies, to such a degree and with such intensity that Agnes literally forgets her line and nervously asks Wanda if she wants her to take that again. Well, then. Agnes very super a lot does not want to be wished to the cornfield. 

The babies stopped crying during the whole "should we do this scene again" interlude. Vision noticed the weirdness and is trying to figure out what's going on, Wanda is trying very hard to pretend everything is normal. Agnes is being super duper bizarre in the background. And suddenly the twins are like three years old. Agnes has given up and got into the liquor. I don't blame her.

Opening credits. Okay, I'm sorry, 'baby' Vision is almost more stupidly funny than I can take. Like … what? I think I want that as my new icon, though. Also the credits are too long. I think they were very proud of their theme song, so we have to hear it all. These are my least favorite so far. Very 80s, but meh.

In the real world, Monica is getting x-rays and giving a report on being yeeted from Wanda World.

Jimmy Woo and Darcy are there to greet her at the end of the exam. "This is Doctor Darcy Lewis." Yes, she is! Still very proud. She's also the doctor of encouraging people to wear pants, shoving a pair at hospital gown-clad Monica. Erik's no-pants phase was very scarring.

The medic comes back and says the medical tests didn't work or something. The medic wants to do x-rays again because the first came back blank and also she's going to have to do another blood draw. Hmm. Monica is still somehow affected by Wanda World? Unclear on how that would work. Some sort of weird witchy radiation-like energy? Monica says 'no' to more needles and also wants to put pants on. Just let the woman have her pants.

Now we're on to a briefing with the acting Director of SWORD whose name I don't remember. He's very "government suit" bland, I have a hard time caring about anything he says. Also, does anybody else pronounce the 'w' in SWORD in their head when they read it? Like I cannot make my brain stop doing that. "s-WUH-ord'.

"Our initial theory had Wanda Maximoff as one of many victims. We now know she is the principle VICTIMIZER!" Settle down there, acting director guy. Why not say 'subject', 'suspect', 'perpetrator', or boring old 'cause of the anomaly". VICTIMIZER! Geez then. I'm going to guess his solution will be a tactical nuke or some such rot.

Jimmy gives background on Wanda.

Acting Director Guy: "The twins were subsequently radicalized, volunteering at Hydra." Jimmy Woo: "That's an oversimplification of events, but yes." I'm giving you heart-eyes Jimmy Woo.

"After unspecified experimentation with the mind stone, Maximoff gained telekinetic and telepathic abilities."

Then a weird aside where the Acting Director — who shall now be known as Acting Director Dick — wants to know if Wanda had a code name or a something, seeming to imply that not having one made her a bad guy?,  and then he points out how the first time she used her powers it was against the Avengers. He totally just ordered a tactical nuke from "overreacting-government-douchebags r us".  I hate this particular character trope, the government heavy who never listens to anybody and is always ready to napalm the suburbs because reasons. It's so tedious.

Jimmy points out that Wanda earned the Avengers trust and then became an Avenger herself, thank you very much. Acting Director Dick doesn't care, he's decided Wanda is a terrorist and he'll turn half of New Jersey into a glass parking lot to get rid of her. Sure am glad he's in charge of some sort of mysterious and powerful agency.

Jimmy Woo is not a fan either, and he walks back over to his new bestie and tells Darcy that while he tries not to speak ill of anybody … Darcy interrupts "then allow me", and she has no trouble saying that Acting Director Dick is, in fact, a dick. That's my girl.

Elsewhere AD Dick is blathering on about how they don't negotiate with terrorists. Well, since Wanda hasn't made any demands, or released a manifesto or anything …. Monica also points out Wanda is not a terrorist. AD Dick twists her report to make Wanda sound as terroristy as he can. I'm bored with him now.

Monica argues with him a bit and say she doesn't believe Wanda World is a premeditated act of aggression. I vote Darcy, Jimmy, and Monica wait until AD Dick is alone, and then they shove him in a locker for the rest of the season. If anybody asks he had to run back to sWUHord for meetings or something, "Darn, you just missed him. I'll tell him you're looking for him. Great. Buh-bye now".

AD Dick needs to make his big jackass point that Wanda is the most terroristy terrorist who ever terroristed, so he shows off footage of Wanda breaking into a SWORD facility to steal back Vision's body. Because that seems terroristy and not at all like some sort of emotional breakdown. As far as I can tell, she just busted open a few doors, but didn't hurt anybody. I think AD Dick doesn't know the meaning of the word terrorist.

And, yes, then she resurrected Vision in an idealized sitcom world in a small city in New Jersey. That's exactly like something a terrorist mastermind would do. Mmmhmm. Is it nice for the people trapped there with them? No, clearly not. Agnes and Herb in particular seem aware and are scared. They need to be rescued and Wanda needs LOADS of therapy. But Director Nuke the Site from Orbit over here isn't going to make anything better. Darcy, sister, shove that asshole into a locker stat.

Jimmy notes that stealing Vision's body is a violation of the Sokovia Accords. And while I appreciate his dedication to maintaining the Accords … well, I mean, look, it's body theft and all. It's not a great look; I absolutely allow that. But you can just sort of stop there. Though, that's very the Sokovia Accords "if this guy dies, his body must go to a shadowy government agency. for safety. yep."

Also Vision had a living will, where he didn't want to be used as a weapon. Sure, okay. Because I'm sure SWORD was just totally not doing anything at all with his body. Nope. Look, I'm totally a SHIELD girl and even I wouldn't necessarily trust SHEILD with that. So, who is SWORD to me? Pfft. I'd give him to Thor or something and ask him to be buried far far away. I'm just saying. I'm supposed to trust Johnny-Come-Lately S-WUH-ORD?

(In my head now is an inter-agency rivalry where SWORD is like "We have rocket ships!" and SHIELD is like "lol, our lead scientist got eaten by a rock and survived on an alien world for like six months". "But rocket ships?" "We've traveled through time a dozen times in the last year alone. We're a bigger chaotic disaster than you can ever hope to be".)

AD Dick undermines his own "SHE'S A TERRORIST!" thesis by saying she acted out of grief. And then he dismisses everybody. "Work the problem!" Uh … whut? Fine? What is the problem? That she's a WILD MURDERY TERRORIST who must be stopped! or a grief stricken woman who stole her technologically advanced boyfriend's body and probably should be talked down? Acting Director Lack of Clarity.

Jimmy wants to know how Wanda could have resurrected Vision without the Mind stone and Darcy wants to know what Vision will do when he figures it out. Fine questions, friends, fine questions. Monica is just like "acting director dick used to be a buddy but now I kind of want to punch him and am very conflicted. oh and wanda kind of freaks me out but also i feel bad for her" only she says all that without words.

Tommy and Billy are now about like 5 or 6 or something. I'm terrible with kids ages. They're up to shenanigans. Oh, they found a lost puppy dog and they're giving him a bath in the sink. It's all super adorable.

Vision wanders in and greets his family all formally and in his human face. He says he has a premonition someone might pop over. He's not a fan of sitcom neighbors either. And there's Agnes now with a dog house. How does she know whether to enter through the front door or the back door?

The dog tries to burn the house down by licking an electrical outlet? so they name him Sparky (harr harr) and Wanda magics him a collar with Agnes right there. Vision's all "wtf darling?" and she points out Agnes didn't even notice when the boys went from babies to five-year olds, she certainly didn't notice the magic collar. Agnes is trying very very hard not to notice anything. Poor Agnes.

Wanda says she's tired of hiding her abilities and Vision is Very Concerned. He's starting to figure things out.

They tell the boys they can't have a dog until they're 10, so the boys grin at each other and age themselves up to 10. That is all very unsettling. Agnes "Let's just hope this dog stays the same size." as she screams internally "save me!"

Real World. Jimmy's hustling back to the science room with coffee for Monica and Darcy. Monica is asking for some sort of wild mobile bunker to help her get back into Wanda World and Darcy's like "well, yes, but also no". But Monica knows an aerospace engineer who'd totally make it for her.  

"I can't guarantee the Hex won't just mind wipe you as you go in." "What's the hex?" "Oh, it's what I'm calling the anomaly because of it's hexagonal shape. It's starting to catch on." Darcy's so proud, but Jimmy's like 'not so much' but he's too polite to say.

Monica's determined to go back in. Jimmy wants to know who the kids are, if they've id'd them or the babies and Monica's all "oh, no, those are legit Wanda's." Darcy says if she can make stuff with her mind, and all the props and whatnot in the Wanda World are real then she's wielding an insane amount of power. Monica is sure she could have taken out Thanos if he hadn't cheated and snapped her. Jimmy thinks Captain Marvel could have done it. Monica very much doesn't want to talk about Captain Marvel.

Monica has an Idea!

Ah, she wants to see her outfit from Wanda World, which is now in the real world. So, is it real matter Wanda created, or is the perception field bleeding over to make them all see that outfit in the real world. That would have been hella awkward if Monica got yeeted out of her clothes.

Monica confirms they're real then steals Jimmy's gun and shoots them. Ahh, she was wearing a kevlar vest when she went into Wanda World, and that changed shape to be her super fly 70s outfit. "Wanda is rewriting reality." Changing things to fit the hex. So they'll send in something that doesn't need to be changed. Um. Sure. Fine. I don't know what that means, or how that would help in this context, but I'm sure I'll find out.

Meanwhile, Vision is at work, and all his coworkers are amazed at the actual computers. Golly shucks. Computers. Hey, so, computers have been around since the 40s. ANYWAY.

"Should we surf the internet?" We're progressing rapidly through the 80s. Oh, lol, Darcy sent an email. And the whole office creepily reads it out loud. Vision is very weirded out. As well he should be. He wipes the computer with his glowy synthezoid powers and then he glowies Norm when Norm tells him 'none of it is real'. Norm wakes up "please help me. what day is it? how long has it been?". Oh dear. Poor Vision. This is all going to go so very badly. Norm gets very freaked out begging Vision to "stop her". Vision resets him.

At the house the boys wonder where dad is, and Wanda tells them it's Monday and he's at work. Except the boys are all "um, no, it's Saturday". Wanda, your house of lies is tumbling down! You shouldn't have let them grow up so fast. Babies don't ask inconvenient questions about why Daddy needs some space from Mommy and her questionable choices for their shared reality.

Wanda takes the opportunity to impart the 80s family sitcom trope of the weekly life lesson about how family might fight, but they still love each other and family is forever. One of the twins asks if she has a brother. She does. He's far away. But, Sparky goes barking at the door. Wanda looks far away herself. She goes to open the door and Sparky runs out.

Monica has sent in a drone from the 80s. Well that wasn't really a thing. But, how does the 1980s rc plane look more high tech than the 2020s drone they sent in first? Talk to your design team, SWORD.

Anyway, Wanda spots the drone, but she's keeping it out of the broadcast, because she's the editor and director and producer of Wandavision, of course.

Monica announces herself and tries to get Wanda to acknowledge her. Whoops. Wanda's eyes go glowy. AD Dick says "take the shot" and Monica's all "what? no, the drone isn't armed." Except of course it is, because AD Dick is a monumental dick, and he's got a backup drone pilot who takes the shot. Wandavision goes off air. And, oh no, there's a breach at the Hex!

Lol. It's Wanda coming through, dragging the mangled corpse of the drone with her. That was entirely deserved, AD Dick. I hope she shoves it up your ass, dick.

"The missile was just a precaution". AD Dick backpedals quick, like a coward. You gave a three second attempt to talk to Wanda before you pulled the trigger, I don't like you. "You can hardly blame us."

Wanda warns him to stay out. "You won't bother me, I won't bother you." Okay, well, he does kind of have a point, in that there's a whole town of people who are stuck as bit players in Wanda World. That's not very nice. I mean, surely she could have found a nice empty spot somewhere and created her sitcom utopia. That's at least a fair criticism.

Monica tries her best to talk Wanda down. It doesn't work particularly well.

"What do you want?" "I have what I want and no one will ever take it from me again." And she mind controls the soldiers training their guns on her, to turn them on AD Dick. Whoops. And Wanda goes back to her world. The Hex glows all red as she goes.

And we go to commercial. Lagos Brand paper towels. "For when you make a mess you didn't mean to." Wow, so that was brutal. Wanda's not mad at you, Monica. She's just carrying a lot of guilt. Ouch.

Back in Wandavision, the boys are looking for their dog. They find Agnes hiding in the bushes with the dog. Poor Sparky apparently ate some azalea leaves and died. The boys are very sad and Wanda warns them not to age up. They can't run from their feelings. Oh Wanda. "It's too sad," Billy says. "You can fix anything mom," Tommy cries, "Fix the dead". Yikes.

Wanda "I'm trying to tell you there are rules in life." Poor Agnes is trying not to have a total meltdown. "We can't reverse death. No matter how sad it makes us. Some things are forever."

Billy and Tommy try to talk her into bringing back Sparky. And Vision turns up. Well, this is just brutal.

Vision is entirely outside of Wanda's control. "I spoke with Norm. I unearthed the man's suppressed personality and I spoke to him free of your oversight." Yikes. "He was in pain, Wanda."

Okay it's kind of funny they're arguing over the end credits. Vision is very very pissed. "I'm scared." Aww.

Wanda insists she's not in charge of every life in Westview. "I don't know how any of this started in the first place." Huh. Is that really true? Because she's pretty sure of it now. Somebody or something convinced her into a sitcom world and now she's just like "yeah, this is good"? really asking.

Ding-dong.

"I didn't do that." 

Vision: *doubt*

DING DONG

Wanda goes to answer the door.

In the real world, alarms are blaring but Darcy notices a new revelation on Wandavision.

Wanda Word — and it's Pietro at the door. See! I knew it had to be Pietro who'd be the surprise guest thingy. I mean it's hilariously X-Men Pietro (Evan Peters, like @lewstonewar suggested), but Pietro nonetheless. There's nobody else it could have been.

Darcy be all WTF? "She recast Pietro?" lol

Okay, Wanda seems legit shocked. I don't think she did that. And I super really don’t think she’d make him sound like a NYC cabbie. 

And end.

Well. I mean, I'm not sure what to think. Wanda insists she's not controlling everything. I don't think she created Pietro. But, she totally stole Vision's body and created the kids and seems mostly happy in her sitcom universe and she can traverse the Hex, which obviously suggests its her doing. Dunno. I have questions about Agnes and her convenient timeliness here and there.

The mystery continues.

Disney wants to know if I want to watch Age of Ultron next. How poorly you know me, Disney.

[persnickety-persnackety]

Set Her Free

Title: Set Her Free Word Count: 6K Ship: Jon/Sansa Rating: T For the @jonsa-halloween Halloween Event Day 7

AN; I really don’t know what this is, but this was something I chose to write for Halloween instead of sleeping, so here it is.

It was her eyes that gave her away. She could fool everybody else with that dazzling smile of hers and those charming words that escaped her lips as easy as her breath, but as someone who liked to believe he was something of a Sansa Stark-expert, Jon only had to take one look into those azure pools to know that behind the disguise of a happy façade, the woman was drowning, and no one else seemed to realize that she was silently crying for help.

Jon hadn’t wanted to attend the dinner celebrating Sansa’s engagement to that blond twat, Harry Hardying, but he had been cursed in life to have Robb Stark as his life-long best friend, and the man was rarely ever told ‘no’ so he had a tendency of pushing back whenever he heard it, especially when it came from Jon. Granted, Robb had ignored all the signs of his best friend being in love with his sister for the past decade, so he didn’t understand why Jon would want to avoid attending the engagement dinner of his younger sister to a man he secretly loathed without even having to meet him. He had been particularly relentless in batting Jon’s excuses aside until Jon realized that the chances of him not attending were basically slim to none. The only thing he could cling onto was the hope that his heart had done the opposite of growing fonder in Sansa’s absence.

That hope was dashed the second he walked into Winterfell and saw her for the first time in over twenty-four months. Her back was turned to him, the pale skin bared by the open back of the royal purple dress she was wearing, as she entertained an older couple who were undoubtedly important friends or associates of her parents. Her scarlet tresses had been dyed blonde and had been sheared to her shoulders, but even still, Jon knew it was her. He had little doubt that he would have found her even if every light was put out and they were left in sheer darkness. It was like a part of him was pulled to her no matter where they were, just like it always had done since he was a young boy.

The smart thing to do in that situation would have been to turn right around and walk right back out the door and back to his car where he could drive as far from Winterfell as he could possibly get, but such thoughts were stopped before they could bloom by Robb’s sudden appearance at his side. His best friend was on his way to being three sheets to the wind, and even though every atom in Jon’s body was desperate to both leave and to be as close to Sansa as possible, he soon realized that babysitting Robb was going to be his primary duty throughout the night.

He didn’t even get to really see her until they all sat down for dinner, and he was blessedly, or cursedly – he was torn on how he really felt, seated directly across from her at the table. Over lemon-chicken and rosemary-roasted potatoes, his eyes had met hers for the first time, and he swore that at that moment everything in the universe went still for a heartbeat, though it felt closer to an eternity. She gave him a small smile, a bare twitch of her lips, but Jon was too lost in the dark cerulean seas of her eyes to really notice it because it was in those eyes that he found himself entranced by the dark void he found there that sucked him in, even though his body remained glued to his seat. And it was while he was immersed that he realized just how somber she looked.

His first instinct was to ask if she was all right, to ask why she was so sad, but Sansa’s attention was promptly called away by her fiancé who then made it a point to keep her focus on him throughout the rest of the dinner. The smug bastard had the audacity to shoot Jon a wink when Sansa wasn’t looking, as though he knew how Jon would have given anything to have been in his seat. It took everything in Jon not to chuck his wine glass at the smarmy ass’s head, and even then, it was only realizing that there was a chance that he would get wine on Sansa’s dress that stayed his hand in the end.

It was only after dinner, while he was speaking with Ned about the security firm he was planning on opening in Winter City, that Jon finally noticed that Sansa was finally alone for the first time that evening. He couldn’t even remember what excuse he gave Ned to abruptly end the conversation, but his surrogate father seemed to understand his urgency based on the small, knowing smile he gave Jon before stepping aside to let him get to Sansa. Jon didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing, having the father of the woman he loved know of his feelings when he also knew that said daughter was engaged to another man, but as soon as he reached Sansa, such thoughts disappeared from his mind altogether as his primary focus became Sansa, and Sansa alone.

She really did look radiant in that dress that accentuated every line and complimented every curve. The fact that it showcased those never-ending legs of hers was also something he would have loved to admire more had he not been so determined to be a gentleman by keeping his eyes glued to above her neck. Yes, he missed those dark red tresses that his fingers had always itched to run through, but even as a blonde, Sansa was a vision that he would have gladly spent the rest of his life drinking in. But even in the middle of his yearning, the melancholy that emanated from her eyes was too prominent to be ignored, especially when it came from a girl who was supposed to be blissfully in love with a man she was going to marry and spend the rest of her life with.

Jon didn’t even know what he was planning on saying when he approached her. All he knew was that he couldn’t bear to just sit back in silence while watching her schmooze and entertain in the midst of her own silent suffering. A part of him was almost wary about ending her small moment of solace from the madness of the party, but even when she was by herself, that look in her eyes remained. It was like a dark stain that refused to be removed by cheer and laughter, and he couldn’t allow himself to let it go unaddressed.

He nearly forgot what he was preparing to say when he reached her and she looked up to meet his questioning gaze. The wide smile that spread across her pink-glossed lips nearly stole the breath right out from his lungs. It almost made him realize how so many people could fail to see that something was amiss because being the subject of that blinding smile almost made it hard for one to focus on anything else. She was that captivating.

“Jon! Oh, I can’t believe that the party is nearly over and this is the first time I’m actually talking to you,” she proclaimed with a hint of reprimand in her cheerful tone. “I’m so sad that we didn’t get more time to catch up, but I’m so glad that you came. It wouldn’t feel right celebrating my engagement here in Winterfell without one of the staple presences here in the North being here. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, and you look amazing! How are you?”

Even though her line of questioning was fairly standard when it came to conversations and greetings, Sansa’s sincerity was what made it feel so genuine and open. The fact that she looked like she actually cared about his answer was what made it hard for Jon to push down those yearnings that never really went away to focus on his original intent.

He gave a cursory response, forcing himself to keep things light in his summary of his life, but Sansa nodded along with her gaze fixated on him like he was the only person in the universe. Jon would never dare to presume that her interest went anywhere beyond platonic, but just the fact that she took an active interest made his chest both feel warm and ache at the same time. It also pushed him to ensure that everything was okay with her.

“That’s enough about me,” he finally said, choosing that time to turn the conversation back to her. “Tonight, after all, is supposed to be all about you. How are you, Sansa? How’s your life going?”

It was her hesitance before responding that made Jon realize that his feeling of something being off with her was correct. Any other woman, after all, would have been ready to spout off how happy and excited they were to begin their new life with their significant other at their engagement dinner, but in that moment of hesitation, that sad look in her eyes grew stronger.

Of course, being the only daughter of Catelyn Stark, Sansa was back on her game less than a second later, forcing a wide smile on her face as she blathered about Harry and his job, as well as her being knee-deep in wedding planning. Jon couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t seem to have much to say about her own personal life outside of Harry and the wedding, which he found to be a bit disconcerting. Maybe that was why she didn’t seem like her completely bubbly-self.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sansa?” he asked her after she finally finished prattling on about the house that she and Harry were looking into buying back in the Vale.

At his question, the ever-present smile on Sansa’s lips faltered and her eyebrows became screwed up in alarm. Jon almost felt like he had made a grave error in his persistent questioning, but it was the way her eyes suddenly took on a glassy look that forced him to push on.

“I’m happy that you found the perfect guy for you, Sansa,” that was actually a lie, but he didn’t necessarily want her to know that, “but I couldn’t help but notice that you seem a little… dejected? Are you sure that everything’s all right with you?”

She stared at him for a long moment, her blue eyes studying his as though looking for some kind of deception or duplicity in his question, but after a moment, she seemed to be satisfied with what she saw because there was no anger or irritation on her face; in fact, Jon swore he saw a brief flash of relief in her gaze. The look became magnified as she took a step closer to him, closing the small distance between them, with her mouth open, ready to answer him – something that Jon found himself desperate to hear – but before she could say anything, Catelyn’s voice broke through the spell.

“Sansa, there you are!” the Stark matriarch called out, pulling Sansa’s gaze from his, though Jon yearned to bring it back. Catelyn shot Jon a solemn look, something that Jon was used to being on the receiving end of throughout the many years he had come and gone from Winterfell. He could just tell with that one look that she was not pleased to find that he was the reason she had not been able to find her daughter. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Harry is talking to Wyman Manderly and I don’t think that he’s making much headway with him, so you’re needed.”

Sansa nodded, but she turned to Jon with remorse etched on her face. She opened her mouth, most likely to utter some kind of apology, but Jon wasn’t in the mood the hear it.

“You’d better go. I’m actually thinking of heading out now, anyway, so I’m just glad that you and I got the chance to talk and catch up while I could,” he said, forcing his own smile onto his lips in an attempt to make her feel better about leaving him. 

It was clear that Sansa didn’t believe him, but Catelyn had grown impatient and was already pulling Sansa back into the main room where the rest of the guests were gathered together. Just before the two women re-entered the fray, Sansa shot him another look over her shoulder, and Jon, who hadn’t moved a muscle despite his previous statement that he was getting ready to leave, met her glace with a sad smile, even as he watched the hopelessness bleed back into her eyes. 

That would be the last time he saw her as a Stark because, after tonight, she would be heading back to the Vale with Harry, and based on Harry’s reaction to him, Jon highly doubted he would get an invitation to the wedding. This had been his last chance to see her as the woman he loved.

As he stood with his back physically and metaphorically against the wall, Jon couldn’t help but think of how he wished that Sansa had retained some of the fierceness she once had as a child. It was clear that Harry was a choice that Sansa made to appease her mother and her high expectations, something she had been dealing with for years as the only daughter of the legendary Catelyn Stark, but he wasn’t sure that she was truly happy with her choice. Jon just wished that she had some of the rebelliousness she had once had as a girl who once made the ever-proper Catelyn Stark want to pull her hair out. She had been the cause of a lot of problems in Winterfell, but that was the girl that he had fallen in love with, even though he hadn’t even known what the word ‘love’ really meant at the time.

When Sansa was a young girl, she had been like night to her current day as a woman. As much as she tried to be proper for her mother, there had been a mischievous, veering toward dangerous, streak in little Sansa as well. One minute she was drinking tea with her dolls, and the next she was making mud pies on Catelyn Stark’s thousand-dollar marble countertops. One second, she would be picking flowers and making crowns with them, and then the next, she was chopping Waymar Royce’s action figures into pieces with a hatchet as payback for him making fun of Bran for having to walk with braces on his legs. One moment she was an angel, and then suddenly she was doing something that would make anyone think she had been possessed by a demon. It had driven her mother crazy, but to Jon, she had been precious.

It was then that Jon remembered how a lot of the mischief that Sansa got up to throughout her childhood was attributed to her imaginary friend that she had from the moment she could talk. Arya Underfoot was her name, and it was a name that always popped up whenever Catelyn or Ned demanded to know what Sansa had been thinking after she had committed a particularly naughty act.

“Why would you cut up your mother’s sheets, Sansa?” “Arya Underfoot said that they would make the best snowflakes, Daddy. Don’t you think they look beautiful?”

“Why did you write those foul things on the wall, Sansa?” “Arya Underfoot thought that they would cheer Bran up after his surgery, and it did, Mommy! Didn’t you hear him laugh?”

Jon could remember quite a few things that “Arya Underfoot” had supposedly persuaded Sansa to do within the walls of Winterfell, but nothing her parents threatened could ever make Sansa exile her friend. Not even her friends’ ridicule for having an imaginary could sway Sansa to give up her invisible companion. Nothing worked.

Up until she was twelve-years-old, Sansa clung to Arya Underfoot like she was a piece of herself, and then on her twelfth birthday, Arya Underfoot just mysteriously disappeared from Sansa’s life. Jon’s memories were a bit fuzzy, but he swore that losing Arya Underfoot came about shortly after Sansa had pulled a prank on Ramsay Bolton at her party that had resulted in Ramsay having his hair completely singed off, which had abruptly ended the party and had left Catelyn Stark positively seething. Her angry yells could be heard everywhere in Winterfell, and nothing Ned said could calm her down. 

Sansa had seemed genuinely sorry to have upset her mother, but she wasn’t repentant when it came to what she had done to Ramsay. All she would say on the matter was that it was better that it was his hair that got burnt off and not the walls of Winterfell. That was all Jon remembered her saying right before she was sentenced to her room for the rest of the night. She wasn’t even allowed to open the presents her guests had given her.

The next time Jon saw Sansa, he noticed a change in her right away. She seemed solemn, withdrawn, and yet she also seemed eager to stay around her mother, like she needed her to fill the void that Arya Underfoot had left. Jon still didn’t know what happened that night to make Sansa give up her imaginary friend, but he couldn’t help but think that if the adult Sansa had Arya Underfoot, she wouldn’t seem so lost in her own skin.

As if that realization sparked to life something in his brain, Jon soon found his feet almost moving of their own accord away from the front door toward the stairs that led to the upstairs rooms of the giant manse. He was a bit confused as to where his feet were taking him until he found himself in front of the door that led to the room that had once belonged to Sansa. Though the guilt of invading her privacy was nearly overpowering, that newly enflamed spark of awareness in his mind propelled him forward through the door that he had been reluctant to open.

The room looked the same as it did the last time that he visited Sansa, which had been shortly after he graduated high school and was preparing to join the Watch. The white walls were still decorated with the posters of the bands she loved in high school, and the bed and furnishings appeared untouched, which made him think that she and Harry were staying in another guest room instead of staying in her room or they were staying in a hotel instead of at Winterfell. That made him feel a little less guilty as he walked further into the room and started looking around for something – something he didn’t even know he was looking for but felt that he needed to find. It was a strange feeling – one that was a bit frightening considering how strong it was in his mind despite him not even knowing where it originated from. All that thought seemed to say was that there was something Sansa needed, and it was somewhere in her old bedroom.

“This is crazy,” he muttered aloud when he found himself opening Sansa’s closet door and took note of the old clothing she had left behind. “What, in all the bleeding hells, am I doing here?”

Don’t give up, you bleeding idiot. She needs me.

Jon didn’t know where that thought came from, and the foreignness of it made the hair on the back of his neck stand straight on end. The thought definitely didn’t feel like one of his own, which meant that it had to be coming from somewhere else. It was the fact that it seemed to have seen the same thing he did in Sansa that kept him from running out of the room and straight for the front door. If it wanted to help Sansa, it couldn’t possibly be evil… right?

Even though Jon had no idea what he, or it, was looking for, he was almost certain he had found it when his fingers brushed something hard and wooden on the top shelf of Sansa’s closet. A rush of excitement slithered up his spine, though he didn’t even know why he should be excited at all. Deep down, he knew that it wasn’t his excitement he was feeling, but that something else that was inside of him, but he refused to let his mind dwell on such a thought. He focused his attention, instead, on pulling the item down into the light, where he was able to see that the object that he had found was a small square jewelry box, barely the length of his forefinger. The lid was held closed by lots and lots of silver duct tape – a freakish amount if he was being honest with himself. It was only when Jon actually got a good look at the actual jewelry box beneath the tape, that he remembered where he had last seen it: it was in Sansa’s grasp on the day of her twelfth birthday – the one where she had seemingly lost Arya Underfoot.

“Are you in there?” Jon questioned the box as his mind starting piecing together a picture that was forming in his brain, not really caring that he was possibly addressing Sansa’s long-lost imaginary friend, something he had never believed in before. But considering what he had heard inside his head, he wasn’t sure that it was completely out of the realm of probability anymore. “Are you in there, Arya Underfoot?”

There was nothing but silence in response to his question, making Jon think that he had imagined everything and he was now invading Sansa’s privacy for no other reason than his own feigned belief that she needed rescuing. He left the room hastily, careful to close the door behind him, but despite his irritable thoughts on why he had allowed himself to go to her room, he found that he still had the taped jewelry box clutched tight in his hand, though he didn’t know why he chose to keep it.

When he descended the steps, he was shocked to find Sansa standing at the foot of the staircase, staring out at something that he couldn’t yet see. It was only when he was a step above her, and his view was no longer obstructed by the banister, that Jon was able to look out and see that she was watching her fiancé mingle amongst a small group of people. The group consisted mostly of women, and all of them seemed to have taken the same path as Robb, imbibing as much drink as possible, because two of the women, whose names Jon didn’t know and didn’t really care to find out, were draping themselves over Harry like coats being flung on a coat rack. The truly infuriating part of it all, however, was the fact that the man seemed to revel in the drunken attention as he openly flirted with the soused females, not seeming to care that he was doing it in front of his own fiancée. Jon didn’t understand how Sansa could just stand back and let it happen.

“Harry’s always been a very… tactile person,” Sansa remarked sullenly, her voice giving little inflection in spite of the implication. Jon was incensed on her behalf.

“Mother says that men like Harry tend to be like that but that they stop once they get married.” She raised the full glass of arbor gold in her hand to her lips and drained the golden liquid in one go. “I  suppose she is just saying that because the wedding invitations to hers and Dad’s friends have already been sent out, and there’s no way she would ever let me bear the scandal of pulling out of this arrangement now.”

Jon scoffed; his lips turned down into a frown. “Don’t be ridiculous. If she knew that her daughter was marrying a philanderer, Catelyn would castrate him herself with her bare hands. I don’t think you’re giving your mother enough credit.”

Sansa shrugged her shoulders, a tell that she was veering toward drunkenness herself. “Harry’s a flirt, but he’s not a cheater, Jon. He wouldn’t do that to me,” she said, staring hard at the ground, proving that she didn’t really believe the things she was saying.

“Sansa –“ Jon began, ready to both reprimand and console her, but Sansa held her hand up, begging for him to stop.

“I know you may think I’m weak for saying this, but… I have to choose to see the best in Harry because he’s the best that I’m probably going to find. I just need to do a better job of hiding my insecurities toward him, is all.”

Shaking his head, Jon reached out and grabbed Sansa’s free hand, clutching it tightly in his own. “I don’t care about him, Sansa. I only care about you,” he declared firmly, squeezing her hand tightly in his own. “The only thing I want is for you to be happy, and if that asshole doesn’t do it for you, then I don’t want you to be with him anymore, let alone marrying him.”

Her eyes started to glisten as she stared first at her hand in his and then lifted her gaze to meet his own. “I wish I was brave enough to fight for happiness, Jon,” she whispered quietly, her words barely audible over the din of the other people in the room. “I’m almost certain I know where I would be able to find it.”

Jon wanted nothing more than to just lean forward and press his lips to hers, but Sansa was already pulling her hand from his as she took a step back away from him. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m made for happiness, and so that means I have to stick with the sure-thing I’ve got.”

A single tear slid from the corner of her eye, down her cheek. She wiped it away swiftly as she forced a smile back onto her lips – the disconnect from her lips and her eyes more evident than ever. She then turned and started heading back to the room.

“Sansa, wait!” Jon called out for her, running to her. He almost feared that she wouldn’t listen, but just as he reached her, she stopped, though she refused to actually look at him. So, instead, he took her hand in his instead.

“You are made for happiness, and when you’re ready to accept that, you know where you can always find me,” he declared, and with that, he slipped the taped-up jewelry box in her hand and closed her fingers over it to secure it against her palm. With it, he hoped that he gave her some of the strength he once possessed.

Sansa’s brow furrowed when she looked down at what he had given her, but Jon couldn’t bear to stay in the same room as that fake smile one minute longer. Releasing her hand, he gave her one last parting smile before turning and finally walking out of the front door, the cold Northern air cooling the tears that were already beginning to fall down his face.

 2 Weeks Later

The call came at three in the morning. Jon nearly knocked his cell phone off his nightstand in his blind attempt to shut it up, but sleep had faded enough by the time he actually grabbed a hold of it to prevent him from throwing the phone across the room. With his mind slowly leaving the semi-fogged state, he looked at the caller id to see that it was from Robb. Pressing answer, he raised the phone to his ear with a grumbled hello.

“Jon?” Robb called out, his voice filled with a frenzied panic that snapped Jon the rest of the way out of sleep’s grasp. “Gods, please tell me you’re up! It’s an emergency.”

“Wh-what is it?” Jon questioned, immediately sitting up in his bed, fully awake. “Are the boys okay? Are your parents? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Sansa, Jon!” Robb answered, making the blood freeze in Jon’s veins.

“Is she okay? Is she all right? What’s wrong? Where is she?” he demanded frantically as he felt his heart painfully freeze up inside his chest.

Robb didn’t seem to notice that Jon was on the verge of having a panic attack. His response was still desperate for him, but still somewhat subdued compared to how Jon was feeling. “Her fiancé’s dead, Jon. The asshole was getting a blowjob by some bimbo while he was driving around, and he somehow lost control of the car and drove it right off a mountain. Sansa just called me from home after she got the visit from the police.”

Jon’s nerves were somewhat less frazzled with the news that Sansa had been well enough to call Robb, but hearing that her fiancé had died like that only made him irate.

“Sansa’s at their house, but to make matters worse, the asshole filmed himself doing all of that crap just before he died, and somehow the video got posted to all of his social media accounts, so everyone now knows that he’s a dick and that he died being one. If he wasn’t dead already, I would murder him!”

Even though Jon had never liked the bloke, he couldn’t help but feel remorse at the fact that a man had lost his life. It just felt overwhelming that something like that would happen to her when she was so determined to make a go of it with him. Deep down he was relieved that she didn’t have to anymore.

“You’re right, the guy’s a dick, Robb. Still, I’m so sorry to hear that Sansa has to go through all of that,” he said, hoping he sounded the right amount of remorseful and disgust  despite the fact that he was overcome with an overpowering sense of relief.

“Yeah, well… Sansa is really shaken up. She’s at the police station, but my parents are flying out right now to go get her… They just want her home, now more than anything. I just needed to talk to someone to keep myself from going crazy thinking about how things have gone for her. She didn’t deserve this.”

Jon stayed on the phone for a few more minutes, soothing his best friend and assuring him that everything would be okay before he had relaxed Robb enough for him to try going back to sleep. After hanging up the phone, however, sleep was the very last thing on his mind. Now, more than ever, he was concerned about Sansa, but also about the events that had led up to her fiancé dying.

Did he have a part to play in it? A niggling thought made itself known in the back of Jon’s mind. His memory flashed back to the box he had placed in Sansa’s hand and the voice he had heard in the back of his head. She needs me. Did what he does lead up to this?

As though she had read his mind, despite being hundreds of miles away from him, Sansa’s name appeared on the screen of his phone, though it was a text rather than a phone call. Jon didn’t know why, but his fingers shook as he opened the message, as though he just knew that it was going to shake his entire world up.

Sansa: I’m sure you’ve heard by now. I guess you not only see everything, but you’re right about everything, too.

 Jon: I didn’t want to be right like this. I hope you know that. You deserved so much better than Harry. You always did

 A couple of minutes passed, though they felt like hours to Jon who wanted some kind of assurance that he didn’t sound like a complete ass to someone who had just lost her fiancé, even though he had died while he was cheating on her. Finally, he received another notification saying he had received another text from her, which he opened eagerly.

 Sansa: Arya Underfoot seemed to have agreed with you, Jon.

 Frowning, confused, Jon stared at her message for a long moment, trying to grasp what it was she was trying to say.

 Jon: What exactly does that mean, Sansa?

 Sansa: I think you know what I mean already, Jon. Why else would you have given her back to me?

 Jon: Are you saying that she… that tonight was because of her?

 Sansa: I can’t say for sure… but she did tell me that she didn’t want me to be with Harry. I’m pretty sure she may have made Harry swerve off the road tonight because right before she said she was going to leave me for good, and she told me that I needed to be brave soon. I think with the accident, that’s what she meant.

 Before Jon could even fathom how to respond to that, another text notification came in for him to open.

 Sansa: I think I’m ready to be happy now, Jon.

  3 Years Later

Jon ran into the hospital with panic etched on his face and anxiety drilling into his heart.  A last minute meeting had made him miss the calls from his wife that she had gone into labor and had been rushed to the hospital by her mother. By the time he had gotten out of his meeting, he found out that she had delivered the baby, and they were both healthy.

Walking into the room where his wife and newborn baby were sleeping, Jon went to her bedside and covered his wife’s face in kisses until her eyes fluttered open. He then kissed her lips desperately, both in gratitude for being so strong and bringing their child into the world and for allowing him to be the one to give her the happiness he had once promised her.

“Have you seen the baby yet?” Sansa finally questioned once she managed to push him back enough for her to speak.

Jon shot a furtive glance to the bassinet, his eyes already misting as he reluctantly walked away from his wife to peer at the child that she and he had made. He didn’t stop until he was peering down at the tiny, slumbering form, his vision blurring by the rush of tears that were beginning to build up in his eyes at the mere sight of the precious bundle.

“Congratulations, Daddy, it’s a baby girl,” Sansa cooed from her hospital bed, her own eyes wet as she watched him.

“A girl?” Jon asked as he knelt down to bring his face closer to his daughter’s. “Really?”

Sansa grinned and nodded happily. “She’s practically perfect already, but she has a pair of lungs on her that the nurses say always wakes up the other babies in the nursery, so I just told them to let her stay with me because I don’t mind hearing her voice.”

Jon chuckled and wiped at his eyes before reaching down and gently lifting the small bundle into his arms. The baby gurgled and grumbled a little at being shifted, but she stayed asleep as Jon cradled her in the crook of his arm and pressed a kiss to her brow.

“Did you name her yet?” he asked Sansa as he started to rock his daughter despite her already being asleep.

“I wanted to wait for you to come before I did.”

Jon didn’t want to ever put her down, but it wasn’t long before she woke up crying, ready to be fed and he had to relinquish her to Sansa, though he sat right next to her to watch the baby feed. With her awake, he was able to see more of her features and it was a bit starling to see that she had his eyes and his hair. He was a little disappointed that she didn’t take more after Sansa, but as he looked down at her, he couldn’t help but think that she was still absolutely perfect just the way she was. Also, in addition to the strong resemblance to him, there was something about her that felt oddly… familiar about her.

“Did you have any names picked out that you wanted to name her?” he asked his wife, who was staring lovingly at their daughter as she fed her.

Sansa looked up from the baby for a second to look into his eyes with a shy smile before she hesitantly shook her head ‘no’. But Jon didn’t quite believe her. Still, he felt like there was already a name building up on his tongue, ready for him to just open his lips and speak it aloud.

“What would you say… to calling her Arya?”

The relieved sigh that left Sansa’s lips was more than confirmation enough for him that he had made the right choice.

“How did you know I wanted to call her that?” Sansa asked softly as she pulled him down to her so she could kiss him.

Jon shrugged, not sure how he could explain his own strange connection to her strange imaginary friend. “She just looked like an Arya to me, I guess. What about you?”

“Well, Arya Underfoot was already grown when I first saw her, but looking at our Arya…I can’t help but think that they’re going to be identical. Does that make this even weirder for you?”

“Considering the roll she played in getting us together, I’m not sure I can disagree at all, love,” Jon confessed quietly. “All I can say is she’s here with us now, and that’s all that matters. And because we brought her here, together, we’re going to make sure she has the happiest life that we can possibly give her.”

Sansa pulled him down for another kiss, but before Jon could deepen it, Arya finished feeding and was letting the milk drop onto her face. She started to whimper as Sansa gently cleaned her face up and then pressed delicate kisses on her forehead.

“Welcome to the world, Arya Underfoot,” Sansa whispered softly into the baby’s ear, just loud enough for Jon to hear. “You gave me the world, and now I promise I’m going to give the world back to you.”

Jon squeezed both of his girls to him and kissed both of their heads gently before staring at his daughter lovingly. “Welcome home, Arya Stark.”

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

Butterflies

Okay so I’ve been playing Animal Crossing New Horizons for a while now. It’s really fun, and I just honest to god love it. Before that, I only had Pokémon sun, Smash Bro’s, and Stardew as video games to play. I already played Pokémon sun and my brother stole my ds I was using to play it, Smash Bro’s wasn’t fun alone, and Stardew got boring for me sense I’m not really into farming and dating/marrying characters never appealed to me (and thinking about how it didn’t always got me spiraling into thoughts about sexuality and that’s never fun haha)

Anyways I got animal crossing and I was pleasantly surprised with how just.. happy I felt? Everyday the tasks I made me happy and feeling accomplished, and they never felt like actual chores that Stardew did.

Stardew, I just raced through the day, watering all my plants, pulling weeds and trees, went to bed, rinse and repeat for about fifteen minutes before I got bored. I didn’t interact with the npcs cause they didn’t feel connected to me, and eventually, I stopped playing.

Where was I going with this?

Right

Animal Crossing

This isn’t a post about how great it is, it’s definitely got flaws, ticks, and stuff that are probably bad, but honestly, it’s one of my favorite games that I’ve actually PLAYED now. And that’s because of one moment I had.

Blathers had just opened the museum. So I was dumping a ton of insects, fossils, and fish on him. And while I went through a quick tour of the place (my jaw literally dropped when I saw the aquarium exhibit. Note: I love aquariums), The room I didn’t visit the most was the insect garden.

Not because I didn’t like it, I just kept forgetting and it always seemed a little empty sense I was bad at catching bugs(I run around a lot, it spooks them)

Anyways though, I had just given Blathers a few insects when I was like “hey, let’s actually go through again!” so I emptied all my donations, and I went through.

Fossils were fine as usual, had some childhood memories pop up in my mind again. I was surprised to see I had actually finished a few dinosaurs and I hadn’t  realized. The aquarium made me all giddy as usual cause that’s when I learnt that the fish bring coral and other stuff with them, so it felt much more colorful and alive. And then.. the insect garden.

It was, really pretty. And while I was amazed, it wasn’t until I entered the butterfly room that my heart stopped.

Before, there was like a few tiger butterflies and tiny tiny yellow butterflies, and a small frog. Now, after about maybe three months of playing?

The amount of euphoria and genuine happiness I felt in that moment, just surrounded by color, for the first time in a long time, I was pulled into a video game.

[bowlegsandbiceps]

Suptober Day 2: Earth

A Case of Space

Explicit / Destiel / 3,500 words

Read on AO3

Castiel sat in an uncomfortable chair, listening to the head of finance blather on about fuel budget and fought the urge to vomit. He tried to tell himself that the seesawing feeling in his chest was all in his imagination. The floor under his feet was firm and level, and even though they were hurtling through space faster than the speed of light, the equilibrium sensors absorbed any changes in density. He designed the system for god sake. The ship was not rocking back and forth.

His stomach didn’t seem to get the memo. A cold sweat broke out across his upper lip, and there was no way he was going to be able to sit through the rest of this meeting. Not with the inky blackness of space looming oppressively from the wall-length viewing glass on the other side of the table. What idiot decided it was a good idea to include that in a boardroom where important decisions were to be made.

Oh, right, it was him.

Something was wrong. Had to be. Castiel knew the Impala as well as he knew his own body. Lived, breathed, and thought her into existence from as early as secondary school when he’d stare up at the stars with bare feet on solid earth and dream of when he’d be up there one day.

Castiel stood on shaking legs, holding up a hand in apology as he stumbled to the exit and made a bee-line for the maintenance port hidden discretely behind a wall, the only indication it was there a small security pad near the wainscoting. He waved his hand over it, the dot on the inside of his wrist glowing white as the security pad blinked green. His stomach gave another precarious lurch like he’d reached the apex of a roller coaster and his mouth began to fill with saliva, a pulse of anxiety shooting through him when he wondered what it would feel like to start the descent.

He slipped through the opening, trading the artificial daylight of the main hall for the shadowed maintenance corridor, and took the stairwell down until it leveled out, hearing the clink and hum of the Impala’s systems and engines hard at work. He hurried along the suspended walkway, making his way to the heart of the ship, and something about the twilight heat made him breathe easier.

Another wave of his hand at the last security point, and he was able to hurry down the tight circle of stairs to the bottom of the ship, resolutely avoiding the panoramic viewing glass that looked out under the bow. His heart gave a pitiful lurch anyway, the pressure on his throat immense as he sidled up to the main terminal and began doing a system check.

The longer he searched, the faster his heart seemed to beat, finding everything to be in perfect working order. In fact, the levels were better now than they’d ever been in their pre-flight tests. He ran a report on the equilibrium sensors and gravity apparatus, the numbers blurring in front of him as he started to hyperventilate.

Something was wrong. Maybe if he did a complete system restart…

He’d given secondary clearance when he heard an angry shout echo down the maintenance shaft as the sirens began to wail, warning of a complete system shut down in 10…9….8…

Castiel was shoulder checked out of the way, tumbling to the ground as a young man in dungarees and an A-shirt covered in sweat and grease, welding goggles perched atop his head was scowling at the board. His fingers flew over the glass as he bypassed screen after screen, adjusting numbers here and there before pushing the commands to the system.

The siren cut off mid-wail, and Castiel glanced up, seeing the propulsion sphere begin to ascend again as it orbited around them, the frenzied whir dulling to its rightful, pleasant hum. Castiel’s eyes fell to the man who was also watching the inner workings of the ship, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, broad shoulders loosening a bit before he huffed a sigh out his nose and ripped the goggles off his head, hurling them, so they skidded across the floor to clink hard against the viewing glass. Castiel’s stomach lurched, and he was suddenly terrified that the glass was going to crack, and he’d be sucked out into the void.

“I don’t know how the fuck you got down here, but you nearly killed us all!” A large hand closed around Castiel’s bicep, jerking him to his feet.

This time Castiel’s stomach lurched for an entirely different reason. Green eyes, furious but clear as a summer lake and fringed with thick lashes so long it was practically obscene, especially on a man, held Castiel’s. Full pink lips were moving over hateful words but glistened as if he’d just wet them, and a stubbled jaw sharp enough to cut glass flexed with his frustration. Castiel was so mesmerized by the constellation of freckles spreading across the man’s nose and cheeks that it took Castiel a full beat to realize that he was looking up, a few inches shorter and much more narrow, the other man’s broad shoulders and bowed legs holding space the way Castiel’s lithe frame never could. His eyes lingered on the corded muscles of the man’s arm, moving down to the large hand with thick fingers that dug into Castiel’s arm. Castiel looked back at the face again, tuning back in to what he was saying…well, yelling.

“…insane, great. I oughta knock your fucking head off, but I’ll let security deal with you.”

“Something’s wrong!” Castiel blurted, planting his feet when the man began to drag him towards the stairs. The man stopped and narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah, okay. Come on, I’m sure they’ve got a nice jacket around here for you somewhere.”

“I’m not crazy!” Castiel ripped his arm from the man’s grasp, and he gave a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes as he turned before he gave Castiel a placating smile. Castiel scowled. “The equilibrium sensors have to be down. The system isn’t showing it, but if they were damaged or if there was some kind of surge-”

The man waved a silencing hand before he cut Castiel off. “We’ve had clear skies since we launched and electrical has been steady the entire ride-“

“Even if it fluctuated by 1 to 2 Oms, it could trip another system to surge into another without setting off the alarms.”

The man lifted a brow and then laughed. “Do you know what kind of perfect storm in the machinery would have to occur for that to happen?”

“Yes, I do, in fact.” Castiel glared hard, reaching up to wipe the sweat from his upper lip. “If the surge happened in the gravity channel-”

“Gravity channel has barely moved half an Om either way since we took off. Look, man, I been running this thing since the very first tests. She’s my baby and ain’t nobody knows her better than me ‘cept maybe the designer-”

“Castiel Novak, nice to meet you.” Castiel thrust his hand forward, and the man’s face went sober, eyebrows shooting to his hairline.

“Uuuuuuuuuh…” the man took Castiel’s hand, blinking at him as if seeing him for the first time.

“And your name is? Certainly, it’s not ‘uh.’”

“Uh - shit!” The man used his free hand to rub at his forehead and heaved a sigh. “It’s Winchester. Dean. Dean Winchester. Sir.”

Castiel waved a hand as he let go of Dean’s and realized it came back with black fingerprints smudged across the back. Dean grimaced and pulled a rag from his back pocket, offering it to Castiel. He wiped his hand methodically, trying to calm his racing heart, but the panic still crackled along his skin. Dean was eyeing him up and down, and he felt a flash of heat that had nothing to do with anxiety.

“Shit, my brother is gonna freak,” Dean muttered as Castiel handed him back the cloth and shook his head.

“We need to do a full system restart.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed, and he held out a hand, a cautioning gesture. “You… you know that will literally kill all of us, right? Like, you’re supposed to be smart, man! You gotta know that shutting down all systems when going hyperspeed through deep space is a death wish.”

“It’s dangerous, I know, but-”

“Dude, the climate shields will freeze over, and the slightest density shift would shatter it like glass. That’s game fucking over.”

Castiel frowned. “They wouldn’t freeze over.” Wait…

“Yes, they would, and I can see, now, you realize that.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

“But, something is wrong!” Castiel’s voice cracked at the last word, arm flinging out towards the panel, and Dean’s face shifted from disbelief to suspicion.

“Wait…”

Castiel was trying to judge if he could sidestep Dean and get to the panel, shivering at the thought of their bodies colliding, so he didn’t hear what Dean had asked. He blinked at him, head tipping to the side.

Dean rolled his eyes, heaved a sigh, and Castiel found himself being corralled back against the wall, Dean invading his personal space. His brows were drawn, green eyes searching blue, and Castiel had the strongest urge to kiss him. What was wrong with him? Castiel was so freaked out he didn’t even flinch when Dean’s wrist pressed warmly to his forehead, then the backs of his fingers to Castiel’s cheek.

“How long you been off-planet?” Dean’s brow was knitted in concentration. Castiel shifted, very aware suddenly that he was half hard in his slacks.

“Three days…”

Dean’s mouth did something interesting that stole all of Castiel’s attention. “Hey? You hear me? Is this your first time? In deep space, I mean?”

“Oh,” Castiel felt his cheeks heat up and was further embarrassed when the backs of Dean’s fingers returned to his face, undoubtedly feeling the warmth of his blush. “Yes, actually.”

Dean gave a perfunctory nod. “You got a case of space.”

Castiel’s brows pulled down, and his head tipped to the side. Dean grinned. “Case of… what?”

“It happens to everyone,” Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Well almost everyone the first time they go deep. You get all queasy and panicky and… other things. It’s the artificial gravity.”

“No one…” Castiel swallowed hard as that sudden sense of falling hit him again. “No one mentioned that.”

“Probably thought you knew, man. You being… well, you.”

“Well I’m definitely queasy and panicky. What’s the other things?” Castiel’s eyebrows rose when Dean blushed, looking away, putting a good foot of space between them.

“Uh… well…” He huffed a laugh as he reached up to rub at the shell of his ear. “It can do things to… well…” Dean gestured vaguely between them.

Castiel’s head tipped to the side and squinted. “I’m sorry I don’t-”

Dean sighed. “It makes you really horny.”

Castiel blinked and looked down. “Oh…”

“Yeah, oh.” Dean chuckled. “My first trip deep, I almost got fired because I spent the first week disappearing to jerk off every hour.” Castiel’s eyes widened, and Dean’s smile slipped away, adam’s apple bobbing in a way that made Castiel want to bite at it. He was fully hard now. “That was an overshare, sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

“Yeah,” Dean’s eyes flicked down. “You’re just saying that because you got a steel rod in your pants right now and I’m…. well…” Dean flicked a hand up indicating himself, and the cocky grin that spread across his handsome face made Castiel step forward right into his personal space.

“You are quite attractive.”

A subtle blush covered Dean’s cheeks making his freckles stand out even more. He chuckled. “I uh… don’t think it’s a great idea to fuck the boss.”

“I’m not your boss.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “My boss’ boss’ boss then.” Dean let his eyes drift down, pausing at Castiel’s lips before traveling all the way down and back up again. “Shame, though.”

“How long does this last?”

Dean shrugged. “Week or so.”

“And masturbation…”

“Helps, yes.” Dean smirked, and Castiel felt a tug between his legs that made him shift forward, hands reaching to grip Dean’s face.

“I’m going to kiss you.”

Dean didn’t move. “Okay then.”

It was tentative, Castiel trying to remember the last time he kissed someone, much less another man. Dean’s lips were soft and warm, and he almost seemed to melt into the kiss, letting Castiel lead, which surprised him. After a few moments, he pulled back, finding Dean’s eyes still closed, lips even cushioned into a soft pucker. Green eyes opened and the insistent pull Castiel felt in his balls nearly made him whine.

“Uh… so…”

“Your room is in the residential wing or down here?” Castiel knew it was down here. He designed the ship after all.

Dean’s lips quirked. “We’re going to my room?”

“It’s closer.”

“Thought you didn’t know where it was?”

Castiel nearly hissed as Dean’s hands landed on his hips, the heat searing through the fabric between them. “I wanted to give you the option to decline one more time before I take you right here.”

Dean’s eyes grew large, his pupils blown wide, and Castiel had to have lost his mind, but who could blame him with his erection throbbing the way it was. He wondered if he’d regret this later, once the fog wore off. They didn’t say anything after that, lips colliding over an over in a heady rush of teeth and tongue, pin-balling off various panels and encasements until Dean managed to pull them through the door of his small room.

Only a double bed with a small side table and a tall dresser filled the space barely larger than a closet, but the wall next to the bed was entirely viewing glass, and Castiel remembered wanting to make sure that the ship’s crew had views as spectacular as the residents. He was momentarily frozen, but a quick whistle from Dean and his attention was back just in time to catch the small bottle of lube as it hit him in the chest.

It was suddenly very easy to ignore, with Dean tugging his tank top over his head and tossing it aside before dropping his pants and boxers. Castiel tossed the bottle on the bed and made quick work of his own clothes as Dean stepped into his personal space, grabbing up the bottle and squirting some into his hand, grabbing Castiel’s cock as soon as his pants and boxers slid past his thighs.

“Oh, fuck,” Castiel groaned, his forehead thunking against Dean’s as his slick, warm palm moved over his flesh, and he didn’t think he’d ever been this hard in his life.

“God, you’re so hard,” Dean murmured, voice a low rumble that sounded wrecked with want. “Fuck I want you inside me.”

Castiel didn’t need any more coaxing, grabbing Dean by the biceps and spinning him to face the bed, a firm hand going to the back of his neck as he bent him over the footboard, one foot tangling in the pants around his ankles to kick his feet further apart. Dean moaned, hands gripping the metal bar of the footboard, arching his back.

The head of Castiel’s dick brushed against the back of Dean’s thigh, leaving a trail of precum across his skin as Castiel got more lube, giving his dick a sharp jerk before pressing the pads of his fingers to Dean’s hole. Dean whimpered, the sound tugging in Castiel’s balls, and he applied pressure, the tips of his fingers pushing past the tight ring of muscle and immediately began scissoring as he pressed gently forward.

“Fuck, Cas, yes, open me up.” Dean’s head hung loose on his neck, and Castiel admired the muscles in his back as they tensed and rolled with each twitch and roll of his hips.

Castiel’s fingers were seated to the knuckle after only a few moments, Dean hissing while urging him not to stop. Castiel couldn’t take it anymore, all the pent up, nervous energy threatening to burst from his skin. Dean’s whine when his fingers left him was immediately covered by a gasp as Castiel guided the blunt tip against Dean’s hole, prodding experimentally before applying pressure, and they both moaned when the head popped in.

Castiel felt frantic, hands moving to grip Dean’s hips, and he tried to press in slow, sweat gathering on his brow, but Dean was pushing back, and they met in the middle with harmonizing groans. Castiel’s fingernails bit hard into Dean’s skin, begging silently for control, but he knew this wouldn’t last long.

“Dean…”

“Give it all you got, Cas. I ain’t fragile.”

Castiel’s accompanying moan was drowned out by the sharp sound of skin smacking skin, and the rest was a blur of savage thrusts and slick skin. Castiel’s orgasm hit him hard, body curling in and over Dean as his hips kept working against him. Dean’s body began to tremble, moans turning to shouts as the new angle sent pulse after pulse against his prostate. Castiel’s arms wrapped around Dean’s waist while one hand trailed down, finding Dean’s own fist working himself furiously. All it took was Castiel’s hand closing over his for Dean to shout, his release flowing over both their hands as his ass clamped down, milking the dregs of Castiel’s pleasure from his tender flesh.

They both ended up on their backs, feet still tangled in pants and boots but neither cared. The bed was barely big enough for the two of them, so they were pressed thigh to thigh, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, and Castiel was half surprised not to see steam rising from their cooling flesh.

Dean heaved a sigh after a while. “Well that was definitely not how I envisioned my day ending.”

Castiel let out a reluctant snort and made the mistake of glancing over at Dean, which got him an eyeful of the inky black outside, a nebula in the distance splintering the dark with purples, pinks, and blues. Dean’s arm lifted at the sound of distress pulled from the back of Castiel’s throat, tucking Castiel in against his chest and shushing him softly.

“It’s hell the first couple-a days.” Dean patted his hair placatingly. “You go up to medical they’ll be able to give you something for the nerves.”

“But not the lust?”

Dean was quiet for a moment. “Uh I dunno. Most folks only talk about the panic and paranoia.”

Castiel glanced up at him. “You never took it?” Dean shook his head. “Why?”

Dean shrugged. “I’m a badass.” Dean jostled him, grinning. “Now, my brother, Sam? - He thinks the sun shines out your ass, by the way-” Castiel gave a startled laugh. “First time I took him deep, I had to lead him around with his eyes closed any time there was viewing glass. Dork slept in the bathtub for a week because he said it felt safe. Space does screwy things to your psyche.” Dean rolled his neck, digging his head back into the pillow and closing his eyes. “The sex helps.”

“It seems to, yes.” Castiel peeked over Dean’s chest and out the viewing glass, the clouds of the nebula shifting. He shuddered. “Thank you.”

Dean chuckled, his voice turning to a silken purr. “Oh, it was my pleasure.” A pause. “You know I could be persuaded to let you stay down here, you know until you get evened out… Walk you through the logs every day… other things.”

Castiel blinked, his eyelashes brushing against Dean’s skin, and watched it pebble to gooseflesh. “That’s kind of you. What do you have in mind?”

“Welp,” Dean grunted as he dug his arm over the side of the bed and tugged out a book. Castiel’s head lifted, realizing it was his book. “Maybe you could sign this for my kid brother?”

“Sam?”

A fond smile pulled at Dean’s lips. “Yeah, Sam.”

“I find your terms agreeable.” Castiel wiggled back down and planted his cheek over Dean’s heart, exhaustion settling heavily on him suddenly. Dean snorted.

“Shoulda pushed for a video call.”

“We can do that too,” Castiel murmured, eyes sliding closed and felt Dean’s muscles tense.

“Wait, for real?”

“Someone needs to teach him that the sun is located in the Local Interstellar Cloud and not my ass.”

It took Dean a solid minute to quit laughing.

Three weeks later, after a complete overhaul of the Impala’s technological maintenance schedule, two video calls with Sam Winchester, and frankly a disturbing amount of sex with Dean, it was officially concluded by medical that his cells and organs had adjusted entirely and all his bloodwork came back normal. Dean’s casual observation that with most of Castiel’s stuff was already down there and the mechanical maintenance evaluation kicking off, it was probably for the best he just stayed down there. Castiel, without hesitation, agreed.

[hoodoo12]

14 & 15 with Musical! Juice ❤️

This is a little angsty but ends well. Plus famous quotes! I hope it suits, dear!

“Oh my. Be still my heart!”You ignored him. He said stuff like that all the time.

“I would not wish any companion in the world but you.”

He couldn’t be serious.

“You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.”

From Shakespeare to Gone with the Wind? 

“I have no words. Your beauty as rendered me speechless.”

That one made you explode.“What are you talking about, Beej?!” you yelled. “You aren’t speechless, you just keep blathering on and on--”

The specter looked startled, but interrupted to try and answer. “I just want you to know how I feel, baby, I just want to be with you--”

“No you don’t!” you shrieked. “Nobody wants to be with me! Nobody cares about me! Stop saying those things, stop teasing me, stop pretending!”

You sobbed out the last of the sentence and then the tears wouldn’t stop. The poison in your words was for you, not him. The things he said weren’t true, couldn’t be true; you’d been fooled before and you wouldn’t be again! You wanted a touch, you wanted something special, but you’d been beaten down and you couldn’t allow yourself the vulnerability of maybe it being real this time, it hurt too much to be rejected . . .

Beetlejuice didn’t make an excuse and leave. He hesitated a moment, but then carefully, like you were made of glass, slipped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest. You wanted to fight, wanted to continue to scream that he leave you alone, but your sobs stole your breath and you felt weak.

Wordlessly he held you. He didn’t hush you, he was simply a solid presence. When you were finally worn out from the physicality of weeping, you didn’t know what to do. His striped shirt was wet from your tears, and you’d managed to wipe snot on it too. You had to breathe through your mouth.

“Baby . . .” Beetlejuice said quietly, and then stopped, as if he expected you to tense up or push him away, or scream or cry again. 

When you didn’t because you were tired, he continued. 

“I want to be with you. It’s not hard to understand--”

“It is!” you interrupted hotly. New tears welled in your eyes and you wiped at them angrily. “You’re a dead guy, I’m nothing. I’m nothing and not worth it.”

This time he did shush you. “You’re the one I want, and that makes you worth everything to me. And yeah, I’m dead, but death cannot stop true love. It can only delay it for a while.”

Through the fresh tears you couldn’t help but chuckle a little. Your throat hurt. You wanted to believe him so badly. Could you try? Could you try? You decided yes, yes you would. In a halting, croaking voice, you answered, 

“As you wish.”

The smile that broke over his face was sweet, and Beetlejuice kissed you, teary-eyed and red-faced and all.

[eisforeidolon]

Episode: Raising Hell

So, uh, basically I have no idea why anything in this episode happens or what its point is supposed to be. Having looked up who wrote it somewhere in the middle, I am completely lacking in surprise.

I mean, the first bit pretty much sets the tone.  Chatty Corpsy spouts exposition a mile a minute, then gets killed, and the ghost stands over her and spells disembowel.  Is that actually supposed to be scary?  Funny?  Anything but an absolutely bizarre waste of my time?

A bunch of dudes with basically nothing but FBI jackets and a bullshit story to back themselves up with convince an entire town to camp out in the local high school for two days without anybody figuring out they're full of shit.  You know, what with smartphones existing and all.  Plausible!

Furthermore, I have become convinced that everyone in this writer's room genuinely believes there is nothing scarier than a bunch of random antagonists standing around in a room pontificating at each other.  It's all demons do anymore. It's all angels do anymore.  Oh, fucking look, here's a bunch of goddamn ghosts doing it, too!  A fucking thrill a minute, I tell you.

Also, you know how the episode with H.H. Holmes was actually scary?  Whether or not you think it's in questionable taste for them to use real life serial killers at all, the reason they included him was because the whole murder castle deal and semi-mythical legends about him made for a scary premise they actually used in the episode.  I ignored the thing with it being Gacy before in Lebanon because there was more important stuff going on, but contrast the current writers' choices with him and this Jack the Ripper guy with the use of Holmes.  Here they're just throwing out the names of real life murderers to try and make their villains scary in the cheapest, fastest way possible.  Just like bringing back “Bloody Mary” that just kills whoever, this loudmouthed windbag has nothing to do with the name they're stealing to try and make him scary.

Also, the spell demon guy did is keeping the ghosts in, right?  Sure, it's going to fail, but at the moment, it's supposed to be an impassible barrier, yes?  So why, exactly, is it necessary for Sam to call in his goon squad to join the four of them in wandering into the danger zone to shoot at 'em? Seriously, why?  Shooting them dissipates them for a few seconds, maybe minutes.  They’re not laying out additional salt or iron lines or doing anything that might genuinely help contain the ghosts, they’re just putting themselves in danger because ...?  The mooks could also be better spent guarding the major entrance points to the town and/or the townies and/or doing research back at the bunker into what they're going to try next after the barrier fails.  But those things would actually make sense and prevent the shambling zombie that is the writers’ pathetic attempt at a plot in this episode being pushed into something vaguely resembling action. 

I am shocked, SHOCKED I tell you, that Rowena is now suddenly unable to do something with her powers that she did before.  Hey, remember when she stole that page out of the damned book to make herself more powerful to unseal her full powers (even though they touted her as the most powerful witch ever to begin with) and that was in season 13, well after the ghost-crystal-bomb thing?  But LOL, now she's even weaker?  This is exactly why nothing matters anymore.  Things that worked previously (angel powers, witch powers, the Colt, whatever) suddenly and randomly don't work to do the exact same jobs for … reasons.  The thing that makes it even dumber is they could have said that the ghost containing spell and crystal ghost sucking spell interfered with each other somehow.  Still at a bullshit level of convenience, but it doesn't involve making everyone and everything's powers completely arbitrary just because fuck continuity, that’s why!

Then Ketch shows up to save the Winchesters from their sudden attack of brain damage.  The show has provided an entire. fucking. town. full of angry ghosts straight from hell.  But actually bother to write a scene of Sam and Dean legit getting over their heads in a believable way?  Why fucking bother when you can just make them astoundingly incompetent.  It is literally unbelievable that Sam and Dean would not recognize those people as possessed fucking immediately.  Yet they stand there with rock salt filled shotguns doing sweet fuckall confronted by three fucking ghosts so Ketch can make a big entrance.  Is there a rule on a board somewhere in the writer's room that Sam and Dean have to be made to look incompetent at least once an episode?  Is this some kind of revenge for having to still write the main characters they're so clearly bored with?  Are these idiots just so fucking stupid they don't realize how insulting this is?  Did they run out of money for extras and the stunt coordinator?  

Also, someone explain to me how tiny flakes of metal are going to be less harmful to a human body than rock salt.  I'll wait.  They just really really wanted Ketch as one of the BMoL guys to have some kind of specialized gadget but couldn’t give him something actually potentially useful for the situation at hand.

Again, these writers really want to be writing a bad soap opera with occasional supernatural elements.  So despite that it's the final fucking season, we have time for Rowena and Ketch flirting.  Not to mention that they also give the only major female character even more relationship drama with the Jack the Ripper guy later.  If it's not questionably skeevy, it's not Bucklemming! 

Also, Castiel is not good at inspirational speeches, just like he’s frustratingly almost never good at anything else these days (those healing powers that were working last week? ha! forget it!).  Anyway, why do they keep having him make them?  Are we as the audience supposed to find them convincing though they never work on the target?  Are we supposed to feel bad for all the ~*feelings*~ Castiel supposedly has despite being an angel who isn’t supposed to have emotions the same way humans do?  I guess this particular one is to further show that Dean’s still mad (which I am absolutely 100% behind) but eh, whatever.  Though I guess that still ranks it above most of the episode sitting at a solid WTF, no really, WTF?!

Now we get to the part where they bring Kevin back for no fucking reason beyond that he's a “fan favorite”.  None of it makes a single tiny speck of sense.  Let's skip right past the fundamental absurdity of how Chuck apparently did this for literally no reason just to be a dick when he was actively trying to pretend not to be a dick.  Kevin has a “bad boy” reputation (come the fuck on) because God Himself cast him down - so him being in hell would have to be fairly common knowledge, for it to result in him having a reputation.  Except literally no demon Sam & Dean ran into between 11.21 and now taunted them with it?  Crowley, who was still alive and fucking King of Hell through season 12 never noticed and either told the Winchesters or tried to trade on it?  BULL and SHIT.  This is pretty close to the same scale of insult to continuity and the audience’s intelligence as these two fuckwits suddenly writing Lucifer as the older brother. 

Then in typical fashion, Sam & Dean discuss their plans to totes send Kevin to heaven in front of demon guy just so they can be told OH NOES!  He totally can't go to heaven!  So sad!  The poor widdle woobie!  Fuck off with this shit, show.  Not even to mention that they take the word of a demon as gospel truth when there is no time crunch or clear lack of better options.  It's all those many many hits to the head, I guess.  That I do actually find quite sad.  I mean, I don't actually want Kevin hanging around like a bad smell while they divert from actually important shit to try and get him to heaven where it makes no sense for him not to already be.  But at the end they don't even arrange some way to keep in touch just in case the fucking demon might be (gasp) lying?

Hey, I did actually like the exchange between Dean and Sam over Chuck poking his corresponding wound.  Oh, look, it's Sam's “I'm totally lying” face, followed by Dean's “I totally know you're lying but I'll let it go for now, Sam” face.  It was a great moment that required very little dialogue to work quite well.  It's such a shame nobody's making a show about these two characters!  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The absurdity keeps on coming, too.  In the whole two days they've been wasting time in Sunshine Daylightville they never discussed how long the spell would last?  Oh, right, they were too busy wandering into the ghost zone to shoot at 'em for shits and giggles to care about that, I guess.  Not to mention the whole “just cast it again!” is remarkably blasé about it requiring a 'fresher the better!' human heart.

More ghosts blathering at each other.  Yay.  This supposed Jack the Ripper guy is just always in the right place at the right time to hear all the gossip, knows every random thing he could possibly need to, and already has the power to intimidate and attack other ghosts. He's basically ghost!Asmodeus, who also steals AU!Michael's original idea of how to get through the barrier, because we really needed time spent discussing the world's most obvious plan.  Also, we've seen ghosts able to attack and absorb the power of other ghosts, but it was because they had already been doing it for a while.  This guy is just as fresh out of hell as everybody else, but he's more powerful and knowledgeable and totes threatening!!!  Well, I'm convinced and not on the verge of napping from boredom.

Naturally for reasons, Rowena goes into town entirely by herself without protection with their only real hope of containing the ghosts before the barrier breaks down instead of anybody insisting on her going with backup.  That's what anybody with a brain would do!  

Of course no one asks where Ketch has been the whole time.  Or even thinks of trying to test him after he was last seen literally knocked unconscious in the middle of ghost central where we know there are plenty of ghosts angry enough to be capable of possession.  Nope, why would anyone even think to do that?  Everything in this “plot” that happens requires all of the characters to be completely fucking stupid.

I'm going to assume by “you” Ketch meant “you Winchesters” because Mary wasn't there.  It probably didn't, because Bucklemming, but fuck it.  It's the least egregious stupidity in this episode that's a cornucopia of choices for the worst.

I … actually like the scenes with Chuck and Amara?  So, you know, that's something!  

Then the episode ends with the guys looking at all the ghosties still shooting up from hell and wring their hands about what they're going to do and maybe they should get on that!  Again, if Sam's flunkies aren't all dead, why aren't their worthless asses already researching this shit over the past two days?  It's not like it's new news that there was a big open hole to hell at the center of the problem and there was honestly nothing but wrangling some cranky civilians to interfere with trying to think ahead to that.

In summary, this episode is a constant showcase of the problems that result when you set incompetent morons who don't recognize their own inadequacy to write characters who are actually supposed to be intelligent experts at their work.  It's a joke – except not at all funny.

[nyrator]

ARE YOU ALL READY

for my first ten days in Animal Crossing New Horizons in picture form (aka the 20th-29th)

because I have close to 3,000 screenshots and it was hard go through them all but I did (mostly because I ran out of the 10,000 limit and had to upload them to my computer anyway)

letsa gooo

The start of the game.

Heck yeah, Tommytown. Also shoutouts to Rocket and Teddy, my first new friends in the town. Can’t say I relate to Rocket, but she’s pink and has a pink house eventually so that’s nice. Teddy’s okay, though not a fan of Jocks in general.

Thanks, random motivational dream K.K.

The start of Nyville

People say Timmy and Tommy are the same, and I admittedly was not a fan of them in ACNL, but I know thanks to this game that Tommy is a true friend and I would die for this tanuki

Also shoutouts to catching like two tarantulas in the first night, jesus

And in one night, managed to get Blathers to want to join our town.

And then the rest of the days came.

DAY 2

Met Gulliver (jerk thinks my head is big all the time)

Made some pro designs and changed my hair

Lots of good friend visits/visiting (though one random guy I added from Splatoon invaded and stole all my apples, rippp)

and that was my second day of playing

AND ALSO I’VE RECEIVED A LOT OF NICE LETTERS FROM PEOPLE... I am bad at writing letters and I’m not sure if people would want them public but aaaa thank you for the letters (shout outs to lala-ko in particular what a good AC frienddd)

DAY 3

Lots of things being built

Got some reactions~

MABLE... but, more importantly, that means...

SABLE... the best NPC in the game...

More friendshippp

Paid off my first loan~

Also shoutouts to local friend letting me get some apples to make some furniture for people to move in after some jerk stole all mine

Also met Harvey, what a dude. ALSO, MY OLD FRIENDS...

And that was only day three of my adventures.

DAY 4

Met Wendy, a Peppy Sheep. You’re okay, Wendy, you’re okay.

BY THE WAY THE MUSEUM IS GORGEOUS

they did not have to go that hard but they did

whoops I didn’t expect it to be that close oh well, I can move things around later so for now everything is next to each other for convenience

also met a ghost friend and he gave me expensive(?) flooring

DAY 5

Got a cute alligator friend, you’re okay too, Gayle. ALSO I SEE YOU MABLE...

Also, finally, new phone, who dis? Dis stylin’ Nyrator. May adjust it later on since I found there’s a template online on how it works.

Did some fishing as well, apparently caught some rare first that day.

Nook continues to ruin me financially, but at least I got more storage space.

DAY 6

Some frog joined, and I think I’d like him if it wasn’t for the burpy noises and the facial hair. Lazy villagers seem great in this game though.

hello Saharah

thanks for all the rugs/wallpaper I guess

Thanks, Wendy.

ALSO SHOUT OUTS TO KOMETA a good friend she got me a lovely heart apron and hair pin and pink hoodie and things and they’re so nice and aaaa thank youuu

Also made more pixel art designs because why not

even wendy agrees

DAY 7

it better, Nook

give me Tommy back to wander the island with his flag and leaf umbrella I miss socializing with Tommy

excuse you Nook told me you wanted this here

more friendship

this game a nice game to socialize in with people (even though I’m terrible at it I apologize especially for never imitating anything with anyoneee)

the letters and the casual tours and having fun are really nice, plus it’s nice to just share things like fossils and DIY recipes, good times

thanks, Wendy

ALSO LOOK AT THIS BAD BOY

It took over 50 bait until I failed a catch and failed getting that one achievement again (farthest was 81/100 fishing in a row and I keep getting into the 60s-80s before screwing up, close to 90 today though so we’ll see how it goes), after failing I was like, heck with it, just throw bait over the small fish until a big one appears, and sure enough, my second-to-last bait, and my third large fish, bam, this baby arrives.

ALSO SPEAKING OF BLATHERS

STAR WANDDDD...

thank you celeste now give me your bow...

Didn’t see a meteor shower at this point, but you better believe I just crafted one today and boy is it good (though stores clothing in the wand which is a bit weird but saves my storage space a bit, I just need to buy multiple hairpins)

DAY 8

there she is, the jingly girl herself

also I put a podium there but misplaced it, sorry Nook I’ll get it right tomorrow- oh wait you don’t do these outside anymore... ripppp

However, before any of that silly nonsense

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LALA

you don’t know how heartwarming it was to be invited to this and celebrate this that morning, had no idea it was happening until it happened, but aaaaaaaaaa so wholesome...

SERIOUSLY THIS WAS ONE OF MY MOST WHOLESOME ANIMAL CROSSING EXPERIENCES...

so anyway back to Nook and Isabelle

and getting this immediately because heck with all the inventory management in this game

So Project K, got it. Heck yeah, K.K.

Also made a town theme (forgot to screenshot it but it’s the Yume Nikki save theme, might change it to Mary Had a Little Lamb though), and also a flag design was already prepareddd

also hi Gulliver again

and a campsite...

heck yeah it’s all coming together

YEAH WHAT OF IT

WENDY YOU WERE JUST COMPLIMENTING ME

jerks all of you are jerks but you’re all still pretty okay/10 (not Merry/Kyle level though)

DAY 9

seriously though rip that podium idea

thank you mabel...

And a campsite~

EXCUSE ALL OF YOU WITH YOUR PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE SUGGESTIONS

Kometa gave me this apron and I will continue to cherish it

But yes, that’s about it for today~ Town’s unweeded, campsite’s built, things have been slowing down while at the same time picking up~

DAY 10

okay cool

okay AAAA YESSSSSS SABLE TIMEEEE FASHION TIMEEEEE...

also hello Daisy Mae, the internet loves you for some reason, can I have some turnips

that is expensive you little snot nosed brat but fine I’ll play your stalk market games, cover my whole town in four million bells worth of turnips again like ACNL...

Also thanks Lyle, I’m a B apparently.

Wow okay I don’t even have a choice, rippp

at least he’s smug, smug villagers are the best personality of villagers

heckk yeahhhh bad placements all arounddddd

I can’t wait to start fixing this island up to a better shape, rip my haphazard placement (I admit I kind of miss the randomness of earlier games, having this much control is weird)

AND THAT’S THE FIRST TEN DAYS OF ACNH...

I may have ran out of screenshot space early the next day and thus uploaded them all to my computer because I need that space (10,000 screenshots, man...)

Got a lot accomplished, I feel~ Still haven’t paid off my back room loan, but I got a bridge paid, got another bridge on the opposite side being built, and I saw some meteor showers the past two nights AND GOT A STAR WAND...

Got Gwen and Hamphrey also moving in and can’t get Merry in town just yet but she’s in the campsite, watching, waiting... debating if I should get ten randos first before moving cards in, though

Also met Gulliver/Celeste/Wisp again the past few days, and also today is the beginning of Easter stuff (so many eggs, also random esports fish guy, he’s weird, also NO BLANCA, rip my empty-faced April Fools cat dude thing (apparently a girl in the US? but I will continue to be a weeb and think of them as their Japanese selves mostly because the voices tend to be masculine)

but yeah made like over 100 wishes in two days and got a bunch of neat star things (not as many as I’d thought I’d get but I’ll take it)

Also, SABLE IS A FRIEND and I love the clothing store but am weirded out that I can’t seem to order things in bulk, just what I’m wearing in the dressing room, which is awkward. Oh wellll

(also may have realized I never got a recent passport screenshot so went and did thattt, should think up more titles maybe)

[xaz-fr]

The Story So Far

@griminal-rising @deadpool-scar-bro @hikayelastoria @cornsnoot-fr @redlion-fr @mushroomdraggo @murdoch-fr @tales-around-sornieth (let me know if you’d like to be added to the lore pinglist)

dragons are humanoid unless said otherwise

I really like Johanna and her daughters. They’re sweet.

Jealousy

Elspeth hated the curious part about herself sometimes. A good Paladin didn't question things. They were self-assured that things would be the way they were. But Elspeth was too curious for her own good.

She peered into her mother's room. She really should have just left it alone like Johanna had instructed her but she felt that since she obedient everywhere else she could be slightly disobedient in this. Her mother was out if North Face at the moment, dealing with something on Which Island. She wasn't sure what exactly. Something about Jessabelle ruining Shai’s perfectly blended tea by adding sugar to it. Something foolish like that. Her mother being gone was the only reason she felt even remotely safe prying like this. Otherwise she would have never.

Inside Johanna’s room it was almost strictly utilitarian. Everything had a place and there was no clutter or mess on the floor. All her weapons and armor was cleaned and hung up properly and any personal items were stowed in containers or on shelves hung on the wall. Anything dangerous was far out of reach of anything smaller than her which for Johanna was important now. Elspeth hardly glanced at the things around the room and instead her eyes were drawn right on a made nest in the corner. It was made of blankets and surrounded by a wall with little balls of light hanging above it like a mobile. She could just sort of see the rise and fall of a scaly flank huddled in the nest.

Stealing one last look behind her to assure herself her mother wasn't home she stole inside and gently closed the door behind her. She padded over to the nest and peered over top. Sleeping in the mess of blankets was a little Guardian, curled around a plush toridae that looked like Vex had made it so fine was the stitching and craftsmanship. Elspeth wasn't a tall girl but she still loomed over the hatching who was sleeping soundly. She frowned deeply . This is what had happened because her mother had slept with that young Guardian she hadn't recognized.

Elspeth knew, reasonably, that it was none of her business. But that didn't mean she didn't feel a bit jealous of her mother having a new baby. She'd grown up with her father in another clan but had asked incessantly about her mother growing up until her father had finally told her where she could find her. But she'd never been raised by Johanna and Johanna wasn't exactly a super dotting and nurturing woman to a half grown child like Elspeth had met her as. She couldn't help but think that was she not a good enough of a daughter or Paladin that Johanna had had another child. Another girl by the looks of it and the way the spines along the Guardian’s back curved.

She crouched on side of the nest, looking in, scowling a bit. She was more than a little jealous of the new baby and Johanna seemed to be taking good care of her already. She hated feeling resentment for a child but she couldn't help it. Elspeth was a good daughter. She should be all Johanna needed. Right? What was the point of training her so much if Johanna was just going to replace her?

Her frill went up when the baby moved in the nest and opened her eyes. They yawned and huffed, slumping against the side of the nest. She watched as they used their wings to scratch their neck and couldn't help it. She snorted when the baby guardian couldn't hold her head up because her head was a bit too heavy for her neck and she ended up headbutting the side of the nest. That drew the hatchlings eyes and she looked at Elspeth, her Light eyes reflecting her own.

“Ammy?” they asked her. Elspeth scowled. This little thing wasn't allowed to be cute like this. “Ammy ammy,” and they shuffled over to her. Elspeth pulled away when the hatching tried to reach up for her. “Ammy ammy,” she squeaked again.

Elspeth frowned at the hatchling again. “No. You don’t get to be cute with me,” she said.

“Ammy ammy,” the hatchling grabbed the side of the nest and pulled herself to an unstable standing position on her rear legs. “Ammy ammy ammy,” she blathered. Elspeth had no idea what that meant. She really should leave before her mother came home. She knew her mother well enough to know she would track when her child napped and when she needed to be home. Johanna would probably be on her way home now.

Elspeth turned and went back to the door. She cracked it open to check outside and practically slammed it closed, putting her back to it. Johanna was right outside. She hadn’t even had a chance to see what her face looked like. She’d just closed the door because she knew she was in so much trouble.

Several seconds passed before there was a soft tapping on the door. “Elspeth, that’s my room,” Johanna said in a bit of a lyrical tone. Elspeth squeezed her eyes shut miserably. She took a deep breath and opened the door. Her mother was standing in her armor, her hair graying hair in a practical bun high on her head but not totally severe. She didn’t look angry but she didn’t look amused either. “What are you doing in here?” she asked patiently. She didn’t fold her arms but Elspeth got the auditory visual of it.

“I- uh-” she swallowed. “I just wanted to see,” she said.

“Hmm,” and Elspeth wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. She gently pushed Elspeth aside and closed the door. Elspeth didn’t dare leave. Her mother wasn’t mean but she was strict. Johanna gave a slight sigh as she undid the side buckles of her breastplate and pulled it off her chest and the big gauntlet that was both decorative and functional to give her a mighty swipe with her otherwise delicate humi hand. She put the top of her armor on a stand and stepped out of the boots she put underneath before coming back over to Elspeth. “Come here, sweetie,” she said and that was when she knew she wasn’t in trouble.

Elspeth allowed herself to be led over to the nest again. The hatchling was now very excited seeing her mother was back. “Ammy ammy ammy,” she blathered, her tail practically wagging. Johanna sat on the edge of the nest and the hatchling immediately draped half of herself over Johanna’s lap. She was about the size of a big dog and holdable but wouldn’t be for much longer. At least not for Johanna’s breed.

Elspeth stood in front of her awkwardly. “Her name is Victoria,” Johanna said and gently scratched Victoria on the eye ridges. “Your sister.”

“I know she’s my sister,” Elspeth huffed.

“Why did you sneak into my bedroom?” Johanna asked her mildly while Victoria happily rubbed her face all over their mother. Elspeth just looked down at the floor. “If you were curious about her you could have asked. She’s your family.” Elspeth still said nothing and was stubbornly keeping her frill still. “Are you upset you aren’t my baby anymore?” Her frill flinched back a bit without her meaning to.

Elspeth was surprised when her mother got up from the edge of the nest and hugged her. She hugged her mother back tightly. “Why do you need another daughter?” she asked quietly.

Johanna found that amusing. “Honey, you two aren’t even my only daughters.”

“What?” Elspeth pulled away to look up at her, not understanding.

“You think I have gray hair for aesthetic?” she teased Elspeth and Elspeth was so shocked it took her a minute to register it as gentle teasing. “I’m very old, honey,” and she gently pet Elspeth’s hair. “You have many siblings.”

“What?” Elspeth blinked a bunch, not quite understanding. “W-where are they?”

“They all live their own lives. They lived with me, I trained some of them… others didn’t follow our path.”

“Oh,” Elspeth frowned.

“Some serve the deities directly. Some… well, I had to leave some behind.”

“Mother-

“You’re a good girl, Elspeth,” Johanna said gently and stroked her hair. “Daughter of my heart. Me having another baby makes you less of one too. She’s not going to replace you.” Elspeth looked away shamefully. She couldn’t believe she’d even considered that her mother was someone who’d do such a thing. Johanna hugged her again and she pressed against her mother for comfort. “Don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll always be my older daughter,” and she stroked the back of Elspeth’s hair. Elspeth nodded into her chest. Johanna let go of her and she awkwardly rubbed at one eye feeling very silly and foolish for thinking her mother would just replace her with a younger girl. “Now do you actually want to meet your new sister?” she asked Elspeth.

“Yes,” Elspeth nodded a little and swallowed down her emotions because they were silly ones to have. She had no reason to be jealous or petty. “I’d like that.” Johanna smiled and guided her to sit down at the edge of the nest with her.

[authorellenmint]

“Kieran!”

My voice didn’t have a hope to rise above the cacophony of children bleeding into the orchard. An entire mass of them moved like locusts descending upon the feast, their parents long since left behind to trudge up the hill.

Only my son glanced back, the sea of taller children threatening to consume him. While I hoped he’d wait, the allure proved too much. In an instant, he turned on his heels and scampered towards a tree. Three other children flocked the branches, most taller than my boy. Kieran ducked down and scampered closer to the trunk, his hands scrabbling for the blushing apples hidden amongst the leaves.

“Your father is acquiring a bucket right now,” I sighed, glancing towards the twisting line of parents left to pay for the privilege of bringing in the farmer’s crop. A rather satisfying deal on their end.

A giggle of joy drew me from the manure-stench of the barn to gaze upon an unending field of apple trees. They fanned out like autumn’s army waiting for orders to march upon the winter forest. My boy’s hands cupped to his chest, a red apple bigger than both his palms cradled safely. The exuberant eyes of an ever distracted seven-year-old shattered expectations by honing upon the apple and refusing to lift. As Kieran laughed again, I accepted that the long drive, the trek out to some bird-woman’s farm, and the threat of tick embedding was worth it for his smile.

I let my eyes drift off Kieran, about to look for his father, when a hand whipped through the air and plunged greedy fingers to his apple. “Hey!” Kieran shouted, trying to protect his get while the larger boy puffed himself up.

“Gimme that! It’s mine.”

“Is not. I found it,” my son shouted, trying to tuck the apple in safer to his chest. Which was when the bully slapped at his hand. Still Kieran wouldn’t acquiesce, even with a pink handprint rising from where that monster struck my son. My gait elongated, thunderstorms trailing my steps towards the children.

“Give it now!” the cretin shrieked. Greedy fingers dug into both the flesh of the apple and my son’s. It proved too much as Kieran cried, the sound rattling my soul, and he released the apple into the bully’s hands.

“Ha!” the child crowed, holding aloft his prize as if he earned it. Piggish eyes narrowed upon my boy and the bully yanked his hand back to slap Kieran once more.

My fingers snaked around the child’s wrist, holding it tight above his head. He screamed as if my grip was lava. How I wished it were so, but aside from keeping the monster from doing as he wanted, I caused him no harm.

I stared into the black eyes of the child, chaos and cruelty already sewn into the makeup of someone not yet ten. “Do not hit my son or you shall suffer beyond imagination.” My tone must have punctured through even that Dunning-Krueger armor as the child nodded dumbly. “And return that which you stole.”

The bully glanced towards Kieran, who held both his hands out, but he flinched from doing the right thing. With a sigh, I plucked the apple free and held it far above the child’s head. “You should be punished for such atrocities,” I muttered, releasing the boy’s arm.

“Oi! Let go of ‘im!”

My eyes rolled at the voice ordering me to do that which I already did. Turning, I spotted a mass of a man stumbling towards me. He wore all his strength in his gut, as if he’d swallowed every ego-boosting lie, every assurance from society that he was important, and honestly believed them. His legs hustled up the hill as I folded my arms, the apple tucked safely in my palm. I shifted to hide Kieran from view as the creator of the child bully thundered towards us.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch my kid!” he shrieked.

“Perhaps you should try parenting your child, then the rest of us wouldn’t need to bother.”

Red splotches formed over his face like mold sporing upon a film of fat. He tried to puff his deflated chest out as if I’d be either impressed or scared. Knowing what was to come, I turned to Kieran and told him, “Go and pick some more apples.”

“Yes, Mummy,” he mumbled, shuffling away from both me and the man who should be shooting steam from his nose. I maintained my typical cool-exterior which was only enflaming him more.

“Hey! Hey, get him back here! Your snotty brat stole from my kid!”

The kid in that situation fell silent, no longer wishing to use either his words or fists. No, it was all on the father, the larger copy as it were, to attempt to browbeat me into giving him what he wanted.

“You mean this apple that my child in fact picked and your son then hit mine in order to thieve away?” I lofted the apple before the man’s face, his eyes bulging as I didn’t cower and plead for him to forgive me. Men of his ilk feasted upon women who shackled themselves to the cult of nice. Against me, he had no power. Not that he had any to begin with.

His lip curled, as if the man intended to rip my throat out with his teeth. “Bitch whore, dressed like a slut. You aren’t gonna tell me a fucking thing.”

“As it would be a waste of both our time,” I responded, eyeing up the man. Whether he caught the barb or was simply upset that I continued to have a voice it was difficult to discern. What was not was how his rage threatened to spew out of his ears.

“You!” He turned on his son, cuffing the boy by the arm and dragging him closer. “Is this yours?” He jabbed at the apple I kept in my hand. The boy mumbled, his eyes shifting over the trampled ground. “I said did this she-bitch steal it from you?”

“Mmyes,” the child fumbled, flinching at both the lie and the fear of retaliation if he told the truth.

“Fucking finally,” the man cursed, releasing his hold on the boy. He extended the no doubt sticky fingers flat and cocked his head. “Well…”

“Well what?” I asked.

“Shit you’re dumb. Give it over before I get the cops involved.”

I snickered at the threat, though he did look like a man who’d call the police if a trashcan fell over in his driveway all while never having to worry about the mountain of dirt hidden under his rugs. My body didn’t shift, the apple held tight in my fingers as I stared around the teeming orchard. A few of the other adults drifted closer at the screaming, but once they spotted a man harassing a woman they all vanished behind trees.

There were certainly enough apples to go around. No reason to fight over one when it was easy to give in to the whims of a bully. Which was precisely the wrong message to teach my son. I lifted the apple into the air, twisting it between my fingers. “It’s not yours, you cretin.”

“Bitch!” he lashed out, fingers clamping to my wrist. The grip suckered to my skin, a thousand times tighter than what I did to his son. I shifted, prepared to teach the man just how much damage a steel-tipped boot can do to external genitals, when I caught what made my son pick this apple in the first place.

As my leg lowered to the ground, the bully snatched away the coveted apple. He released my hand, red welts rising from his grip, but I only stared back. My cold eyes burned into both his meaty face and the fruit he stole from a child. With a laugh, he placed the apple to his teeth and took a massive bite.

Which was when a warm smile wormed up my lips. I paid no heed to the pain he caused to my arm, only grinned at the man who flinched against the abyss. “Come on,” he shoved at his son, scampering away from me. But, he made certain to take another bite of the stolen apple.

“Mummy!” Tiny hands overladen with fruit bumped into my back. Keiran’s exuberant eyes warmed my heart, his full arms cinched tight as I swiped back a lock of his fallen hair. “Look at all the apples I got!”

“I see. You did an excellent job.”

My son smiled at the praise, his chin rising higher until he spotted the two generations of bullies walking down the lane. The father stopped and seemed to be staring harder at what he bit into. “Is that my apple?”

“Yes.”

My little entomologist scrunched up his nose. “Does he know it’s got a worm in it?”

A retching noise broke through the idyllic farm, the bully bent over to try and no doubt vomit up half of an eaten caterpillar. “He does now,” I said with a chuckle. “Come on,” I shook away the monster who tried to ruin our day and rubbed Kieran’s shoulders, “let’s find you another caterpillar.”

As my son led me into the trees, my ears listened to the blustering blather of a man choking upon his own comeuppance.

[delightfully-daisy]

An Affair to Remember

After Valentine’s Day ends, Daisy and Amelia have a little bit of downtime...

[Dear God, this took so long]

@captain-ameliasmollet

DAISY:

As the clock struck midnight, little Reginald sprouted a pair of wings that neither Daisy nor Amelia knew that he had and he bounced out of the little bed Daisy had made up for him by the window and gave one shrill little cry before flying out.

“Reggie!” cried Daisy, rushing over to the window.

But Reggie was off into the moonlit night, his silhouette merely a blip on the horizon.

Amelia and Daisy had been reading him stories by the fireplace in one of the guest rooms. He liked listening to the sound of their voices. Before that, they’d fed him with a lovely dinner, and before that, they’d taken him to the lake and had a lovely (albeit frosty) row.

The whole time, Daisy had been staring at Amelia, who as always was confident and proud, the sharp lines of her cheekbones arching as she smiled, her golden hair falling out of her immaculate bun as she leaned forward to coo at Reginald.

Daisy felt like her heart was fluttering all through the day. She knew that feeling--knew it all too well this past year or so--had known it with Tito, and with Lou, and now with Amelia and there was no reason in the world why Amelia would be different than Lou or Tito or any of them--

As Reginald flew off into the night, Daisy stared after him and she felt her heart flutter again. It was still fluttering and she turned, back to the wall, to face Amelia.

“He’s gone,” she said, and she felt like she was going to cry, almost. “Oh--what---” She blinked, scrunching up her face. “What even was he?”

She looked back at Amelia now, feeling her heart catch again, as if the millions and millions of little butterflies it had been suddenly flew right into a net. It was not a bad feeling--it was--she didn’t know--she was hesitant, did not know how Amelia was looking at her right now.

Then she burst out laughing.

“Oh mon dieu--what was that creature? There were more of them, we saw, oui?”

AMELIA:

The entire day had been like something from a movie. These things just didn’t happen. They didn’t welcome tiny creatures into their lives and become doting parents towards them and spend an entire evening spontaneously going on an outing.

But it did happen. And with every glance Amelia stole towards the two creatures in her life, she couldn’t help the feeling that bloomed in her chest. Every beat of her heart caused by the blonde in front of her seemed to erode away her carefully crafted wall she had up. Lapping at it bit, by bit like the tide was rising higher and higher with Daisy, her moon, to pull it continuously against the sterling and composed exterior she chose to show.

And then it was as if the dream ended. As if the dream had taken that one turn towards a nightmare and one of the objects of her affection and adoration flew off. Rage boiled inside her, rising up to stand by her seat, rigidly stiff as her brows furrowed, already calculating her plans for a search and rescue.

That immediately stopped when Daisy’s eyes met hers and with a blink, Amelia’s frown turned to a small, amused little smile. “I haven’t the slightest idea. But anything that could make me say darling more times than I have in my entire life is one powerful force.”  She let out a small chuckle, eyes soft, which turned into more of a laugh as Daisy’s own laughter melted into hers.

“So very strange.” She walked forward to stand next to Daisy at the window, looking out as little winged beasts few across the moonlight. “Seems we’ve been invaded.” She looked back at the woman who was now very close to her, she realized.

It was strange. It was as if the feelings from before still seemed to linger. Like a door had been pried open, contents seen and now the hinges weren’t quite lining up anymore to close again. “If it’s any consolation… I think you’ll be a wonderful mother someday, Miss Canard.”

DAISY:

Her instinct was to lean towards Amelia so that their shoulders would brush, but she hesitated, her breath catching. She could feel the warmth of Amelia’s body, they were so close, yet she hesitated, for she did not want to act on her gut, on the rammering of her heart.

She needed to be logical about this.

How often, in the past year, had she said yes to the wild hammering of her heart, to the mad thoughts that pounded in her head, only to be lead to certain destruction?

She could not do it again, would not do it again, even though--

“I do hope so,” she said, softly, flicking her eyes towards Amelia. “I do think I’d make a much warmer mother than my own, but then again, I could be just as...particular about certain things, I do believe.” She let out a laugh and despite herself, she did lean towards Amelia, their shoulders brushing.

“Oh, we raised that boy right,” she said, gaze drifting out onto the empty night. “I think,” she tilted her head back to look Amelia right in eye, “we make a rather good team.”

AMELIA:

The captain chuckled softly, looking into the night as Daisy commented on herself and her own mother’s qualities. “Oh yes, Lillian can be quite particular I’ve heard.” They ran in the same circles of course, and her mother was kind of a terrible gossip about these things. A small tingle ran through her at the mere brush of a shoulder. Amelia’s mind wandered towards how it would feel if it were more than a touch that glanced right off of her, if the arm and the fingers belonging to that arm were to--Well, it was hardly the time for such thoughts, not after being magically shoved together on arguably by commercial standards the most romantic day of the year.

Her heart betrayed her once again, as it had been doing for quite some time actually. Her mind was set on goals that didn’t warrant companionship and yet her heart seemed to decide at that moment reach through her chest at those eyes staring up at her and those lips uttering no truer words spoken in that moment. “We do.” She offered simply, a corner of her mouth turning ever so slightly up as she gazed at the woman who’d met her challenge in every universe, but had yet to in this one. Why was it that they both were so hesitant in this one? Surely backstories in those universes had lent themselves to some misfortune for both of them and yet, here they were both stagnant in moving towards the other in the water, yet somehow circling each other all the same.

Amelia had never thought of herself as a mother, truly, by any means. She’d never truly planned farther than her Admiralship and when the hopes of that came crumbling to a disastrous halt well, her future plans had ultimately shut off, because she couldn’t navigate the uncharted waters she was in now to near any sort of destination let alone span her life into a family and bringing more people into her misfortune.

“We’re quite a contrasting pair. Even just by superficial standards, you know. Fashion journalism and Naval prowess. English and French. Sort of resembles how lights and darks can be polar choices and yet put them together and the contrast of the two just… makes things seem heightened, sharpened even. As if things you hadn’t known to appreciate before gained new meaning entirely.” There she went again. Finding herself becoming more verbose in the presence of this charming, effervescent woman. If there was one person who could get Amelia to talk and prattle on, it would be Daisy. “Oh, look at me blathering on…” She gave a slightly embarrassed chuckle before looking down and then looking back out to the stars.

DAISY

She did not mind listening to Amelia talk. Amelia had such a lovely way with words. Amelia’s voice was crisp, like the ironed collar of her shirt. Daisy felt herself lulled by Amelia’s words, her gaze drifting off as she imagined all those worlds where their paths had crossed.

She thought of those false memories of sunlight temples and marbled floors, of the first time she’d kissed Amelia--they’d been themselves, sort of, themselves, but not themselves, themselves but weighed down with selves that were not them.

She thought of the stars, of galaxies, of an epic romance that had been painted out for them, how they found themselves drawn back to each other like two stars caught in each other’s orbit.

And she thought of when they had met here, in the real world, how her heart had been freshly wounded by her own hand and how Amelia’s smile had made her feel like she could breathe again. She hadn’t realised it at the time, but that night had been one of the first where she smiled, where she let her shoulders relax, where she laughed and it did not sound rehearsed.

They had not met in the town, you know, but it was the town that kept bringing them back together.

And here they were, now. Brought together again by the town.

Daisy turned her gaze back to Amelia, the stars still in her blue eyes.

“Oh, you do not need to stop,” she murmured. “Your words are beautiful. They sound like poetry, really--I suppose that is slightly vain, since they are about me, but…” She sighed, and her breath turned into a little giggle and she kept her gaze on Amelia, biting down on her lip slightly. “I do like to indulge, once in a while.”

AMELIA

The captain’s smile merely widened as she looked back to the woman who she’d become so taken with over the better part of a year. “I will happily indulge your vanity, Daisy.” She nudged her gently with her shoulder before slipping her arm around her waist smoothly as they came back to stand in the same position they where they were before. “I hardly think you get enough praise for all that you do… and all that you are, really. Because what you do truly is who you are to the people we surround ourselves with.” She sighed slightly, leaning against the other woman a bit more, “As formy words, well, perhaps that’s the one thing my mother did right in raising me, perhaps we would’ve made Reggie read poetry books at a young age and look up all the impossibly long words he didn’t know until they were ingrained into muscle memory.”

Her tone turned teasing as she lowered her voice, ducking her head down close to the blonde’s as if she were dropping some large secret or act. “To be quite honest, I’m glad you appreciate it so much. I’ve been written off as incredibly pretentious so many times I haven’t bothered to count.” She gave an amused smile, eyes twinkling as she looked into the other woman’s. For a brief moment, rather than weigh all of her options as she usually did, her impulses got the best of her as her hand came up to move strands of hair from Daisy’s face. She ran her fingertips down the side of her check before they came to rest beneath her chin, grasping it gently as she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

Every kiss with Daisy, in this universe or another, was new. Exciting even. Entirely new territory to explore and sail both her fingers and her mind across to wrap around every curve Daisy could throw. She wasn’t something to conquer, Amelia wasn’t expanding territory by any means. She was something to admire, to just sit and gaze out across and wonder how it was that something so awe inspiring was created by some strange miracle of life.

She pulled back from the kiss to whisper softly, smirk curling into her lips where the quick remark was already waiting, “Of course, there are plenty of other indulgences I’d gladly aid you with aside from telling you all the laudable traits you possess.”

DAISY

She had been hoping Amelia would kiss her. It was in the back of her mind, all throughout this conversation, a breath she had been holding without realising. And then, softly, Amelia pressed her lips to Daisy’s and she felt all that flutter, all that pitter-patter, felt it all wash over her--

She let out a breath, only to have it snatched away from her.

Amelia was gentle--her touch, her lips--but the little quip she whispered was sharper, and Daisy’s toes curled, thinking of those nights they had shared in memories that were not theirs (but also, in a way, were more theirs than anything else).

She almost forgot to answer.

“I would like that very much, that is, to be indulged,” she said, tilting her head and this time, she was the one who kissed Amelia.

It was soft, at first, just as chaste a kiss as Amelia had bestowed upon her moments ago. But her hand found Amelia’s hip and Daisy pulled her closer, till their bodies were flush against each other. She could feel the tight muscles of Amelia’s body through the fabric of her suit. Her other hand curled around Amelia’s collar as she pulled the captain closer.

Daisy broke away for a second, training her eyes on Amelia, a little smirk tugging on her lips.

“I do require your aid most intensely,” she said, voice breathless and her cheeks flushed pink. She ran her fingers slowly along Amelia’s side. “If you should be so kind as to indulge me further.”

AMELIA:

It was so familiar yet different to fall into this rapport. She’d had Daisy as a, well, quite literally a virgin for all intents and purposes. She was cautious and a little timid, of course. And then the last memories she’d had of them tossing among space silken bed sheets were of a Daisy far more experienced and bold, quite dominating actually which was an entirely new plane of existence and experience for the captain. So to have a woman who reminded her of both of those memories or other life times--whatever they were, it was almost all too perfect a fit.

And the blonde had done just that with how well she’d turned the kiss back onto her and pushed the ball into her court. She felt the fingertips dig into her hips and just as those fingers hooked her physically and tugged at her collar, all else was hooked right along with it.

The captain breathed out, a small smile, truly amused by it all while one hundred percent genuine in her reply, “Well, who am I to turn down someone so in need of my aid?” She gave a small peck of a kiss, a tease, really one arm kept her as close as Daisy had pulled them, flush against each other. Her other hand that had never left Daisy’s cheek in the kiss, moved to tease her supple lips with a thumb as her voice lowered. The pad of her thumb grazing her bottom lip as she leaned in, “Truly it would be a detriment to my character and I’ve worked far too long to have that happen.”

She closed the distance, the kiss much more firm than the last. A kiss that most certainly would lead to more. Her hand kept itself at her jawline as the other roamed her back, re familiarizing itself with places it hadn’t been for quite some time. It dipped lower, digging in slightly as it kept to the small of her back. All the while she deepened the kiss, making sure to take her time with this because she wouldn’t want to pass by yet another first (especially one that truly counted in this universe). Daisy was tempting, truly, she could be devoured in a moment, but Amelia would rather savor her and keep her solely to herself for as long as she would let her, not wanting this to be another spell they’d wake up from and have to reset their time all over again.

DAISY

Daisy wanted more.

She could feel the desire pooling in her, right to her core. She wanted fast and frenzied--wanted to run her hands through Amelia’s hair and grind herself against her. Wanted to explore the curves of her body in this world, in this time.

But Amelia was kissing her softly, teasing her almost, touching her slowly so that their bodies ever so slightly pressed closer together, the heat between them growing. Daisy’s breath was short. As much as she wanted this to be fast and passionate, there was something oh-so sensual about this slow build up, this teasing and touching.

Daisy’s hand grasped at Amelia’s side, and she caressed down Amelia’s back, her fingers running down to her thighs, then back up to the curve of her waist, then darted between them, toying with the buttons of Amelia’s jacket.

She pulled away, coy smile on her lips, then slipped her hand from the buttons to the lapel, then back down.

“What a pretty jacket,” she nearly cooed. “It’s getting in the way.”

AMELIA:

God, it had been a bloody while since someone had challenged her in the ways that Daisy had. Bodies pressed close, that flame of want burning brightly again after it seemed like it had been merely an ember of past flings and trysts.

The blonde’s hands had roamed the former captain’s body, doing just as she had previously, learning the landscape that had once, in a former life or time, been laid out before them, memorized as if they were the cartographers themselves charting their way through dips, valleys, mountains and narrow passes. She leaned into the touch, the warmth of the woman’s hands welcomed as the breeze through the open window their former child creature had flown out of sent a chill down her spine despite the fireplace being in full blaze behind them. Or perhaps it was Daisy herself sending those signals through the nerves all intertwined and connected down her back.

Amelia raised a eyebrow in amusement as the ever so coy looking Daisy Canard spoke. Truly, they were wearing far too much at this point. “This old thing? Well, there’s thousands of it and one of you so I’d say my priorities should lie with the rarer find, don’t you?”

Her hand moved from Daisy’s jawline, fingers trailing down her neck to her collarbone and then down to fiddle with the fabric just below it, fingers running smoothly just beneath it, caressing skin as it went, her lips quirking in a small little smile as her eyes twinkled with mischief, gazing into the girl’s in front of her. “I think we’re both horridly overdressed and in this case--this truly being the only case because can you truly be overdressed?--that’s quite unfortunate.” She sighed, feigning disappointment. “Should be remedied immediately, posthaste.”

And with that Amelia pulled away entirely, warmth radiating from the journalist’s body now gone as she swiftly shrugged off the jacket and discarded it neatly on nearby surface. She toyed with the buttons on her blouse, all the while never letting her eyes leave the woman in front of her. Some would say Amelia was being a little less dominant than usual, but she’d surely reply that this was a game of chess and there were one hundred and one different strategies to take the queen.

DAISY

She felt very warm, her cheeks flushed and pink, her breathes quivering slightly. But she was not one to cave, no, no, no -- Daisy Canard held her head high, looking straight at Amelia, as she tugged off her jacket and toyed with the buttons on her blouse.

Daisy felt a lick of heat within her and wanted to press her legs closer together.

She wanted Amelia to slip her hand between Daisy’s thighs and knot her fingers in Daisy’s hair.

Daisy bit down slightly on her lip, then turned around slowly, so that her back was facing Amelia. She reached behind her neck, sweeping the blonde waves across her shoulder, tipping her head coyly in Amelia’s direction, before she slipped her hand to the zipper of her dress, tugging it down slowly and swaying her hips as she did so.

This was new for Daisy -- in this world. She had memories of all of this and she had to rely on a past that she was not sure existed, feelings that she was not sure were real, flashes of passion and moments of tenderness that belonged to a pocket of reality that was neither real nor false.

But right now, right now she wanted it to be real, in this world.

“Je ai besoin d'aide,” she said, batting her eyelashes. Her lip caught between her teeth and with her free hand, she curled her fingers in her hair.

AMELIA

Just as the captain had begun to tease the woman in front of her, she turned the tables and gave it right back. Amelia couldn’t help the smirk that crossed her features, watching Daisy sway her hips and toy with the zipper to her dress.

Her eyes never left the blonde as she unbuttoned the buttons and tugged the shirt from her trousers, letting it hang loosely on her form. Truly, she’d have been more than content to just watch but that invitation was all the motivation she needed. She walked up behind her, first sliding her hands along the sides of the dress, along her hips as she leaned over her shoulder, murmuring softly, as she began to place slow soft kisses along her shoulder and neck, “Je vais le fournir, ma chérie.”

The englishwoman’s hands moved to the zipper, picking up where Daisy had left off, slowly drawing down the zipper until it reached its end point as her lips made paths down along her neck. Her hands slipped beneath the two sides of fabric, gliding over the warm, bare skin of her hips and sides as her body pressed close against her back.

Those universes had essentially been practice exams. She’d been able to read the book ahead of time, study her. And though the questions would be different variations on this final exam, she was confident with those past trysts through different worlds, times, places, scenarios, that she’d get high marks.

DAISY

A soft moan escaped her lips as Amelia kissed her on the neck. Daisy felt her toes curl and her hands grasped at her sides. She’d always had a sensitive neck, and Amelia knew just the right way to kiss her that made her hunger for more.

She could feel the heat of Amelia’s body, as the zipper of the dress tugged down and Daisy wriggled her shoulders out of it. The fabric fell to the floor, leaving Daisy clad only in her lacy pink bra and panties. She felt a shiver through her, not just from her bare skin and the cold night air from the open window, but from the thrill of anticipation and the touch of Amelia’s hands on her skin.

Slowly, she turned around to face Amelia, feeling a flush across her cheeks and a fire deep within her. Daisy draped her arms over Amelia’s shoulders and leaned in, so that their lips were almost touching -- almost but not quite. Daisy could taste Amelia’s lips and she wanted to be kissed so madly that she forgot her own name.

Instead, she turned her head, turned all around, one hand tracing down Amelia’s hand till she linked their fingers together, pulling Amelia along, towards the sofa in the room. She felt her heart pounding, in anticipation, in excitement, and she dropped Amelia’s hand before setting herself on the couch, lounging across it, her hair spilling onto the red cushions.

She said nothing, but looked at Amelia, a mischievous smile on her face.

AMELIA

Hearing Daisy let out that moan brought a rush of memories that were both hers and not, flashes of tumbling through silken sheets, whispers, lingering glances across rooms, and most of all the sighs and moans that reverberated against temple and captains quarter walls. She’d have it again. She knew that much.

The older woman kept hold of the blonde, her hands stroking up and down along sensitive sides and hips as her eyes flickered to meet the one’s looking right back at her. The air between them was hot and thick, she could feel the heat coming from Daisy’s body as she held her close and waited in anticipation for a brush of lips that never came. No. Certainly did not. Miss Canard was playing with her ever so slightly and Amelia couldn’t be helped but to toy with her right back. This was the game they were set in, they’d figure out who’d break first.

Their fingers intertwined and Amelia gave the softest of smiles at the gesture before she turned back to smirks and a quirk of the brow as Daisy lounged before her, that all too precious little smile on her face like she could one up Amelia Smollet so easily in this game.

Amelia let the shirt loosely hanging on her frame drop to the floor before unbuckling her trousers and letting those drop as well before tugging her hair from the previously immaculate but now partly ruined from caring for an infant bun she’d had it in, flipping it to the slide over her shoulder as she stalked forward, clad in only her dark blue bra and panties.  

She leaned down over Daisy’s form, each leg easily coming over to straddle her as she took the hands that she’d been holding momentarily before and brought them up til they were eventually over the French woman's head. Her nose brushing up against the blonde’s as that mischievous glimmer never faltered in her eyes. Her hands lightly grazed down wrists, undersides of forearms, upper arms before ghosting back up all the while her lower body arching ever so slightly into the one beneath her.

DAISY

Daisy’s arms were pinned over her head. Normally she was the one doing the pinning, the one climbing atop and running her eyes over the nearly naked body. With a man -- certainly, she’d never allow herself to be pinned, never allow herself to let someone else control her. But with a woman --

She felt a thrill through her, heat building through her center as Amelia arched her body closer and they brushed against each other ever so slightly, the friction of Amelia’s body sending a near shiver through Daisy. Her breaths grew a little heavier and she instinctively tilted herself towards Amelia.

She wished she could grasp Amelia’s hips and press her closer, grind against her and kiss her with fervor.

But Daisy was pinned. She was not in charge.

And for the first time -- well, she rather liked it.

She might not be able to do much with her hands, but she tilted her hips up to Amelia’s, pushing against her, all while fixing her gaze to Amelia.

“Enseigne moi,” she breathed into Amelia’s ear, pressing herself closer, only the thin fabric of her panties between them. “How to make you feel good.”

AMELIA

It was all the more satisfying to Amelia to have Daisy underneath her, tilting her body to get some sort of contact that would quell her urges. Knowing Daisy, she wasn’t exactly one to take things lying down. She could sense a rather dominant top when she met one, and this one would most likely take whatever chance she could to turn the tables on her. So she’d distract and charm the girl, asserting her own dominance with a bit of finesse and a lot more tact than she’d assume most men had towards her.

“I find…” Her own voice, lower, deeper as she spoke into the blonde’s ear in reply, letting the words fall from her mouth in no hurry whatsoever. “That to experience is the best way to learn… don’t you?” Her fingers glided along her forearms as her leg slipped between Daisy’s, pressing firmly to the thin piece of fabric remaining between them. “Rester...” Who knew if she’d actually obey but she needed the use of her hands again. Her mouth moved lower, to kiss at her neck, running her tongue along the flesh that pulsed under it before paying attention to her collarbones.

Her hands had a separate mission, letting them move down to slip down underneath the cups of her bra, fingers grazing and teasing hot, supple flesh but not applying nearly enough pressure to satisfy the woman beneath her, before they ran underneath the strap and down the back to unclasp it.

DAISY

Amelia’s lips trailed across her neck and Daisy’s breath hitched. She bit down on her lip, her back arching slightly, her body yearning to get closer to Amelia in any way possible. When Amelia teased at her breasts, the strained breaths became soft moans. Oh, she wanted so badly for Amelia to rip off her bra, for Amelia’s lips to wander down her chest, her teeth the scrape the soft skin.

But Amelia taunted her, achingly so. Daisy felt the heat grow with in her and she pressed herself closer to Amelia, hoping to relieve some of the growing need within her.

As Amelia’s fingers flitted across the fabric of her bra, Daisy’s own fingers tangled in Amelia’s hair, then traced down the older woman’s neck, her strong shoulders, and danced across her back. She stopped, every so often, when the throws of pleasure hit her in a particular sort of way, and her nails scraped at Amelia’s skin and a breathy moan escaped her lips.

“Oh, touch me,” she breathed into Amelia’s ear, as she arched her back and then nibbled at bit at Amelia’s earlobe. “Touch me, please.”

AMELIA

Daisy’s hands wandered down her back and shoulders, making her arch into the touch. She knew exactly what she was doing to the girl beneath her, and there was only just a little room left before she’d be pushed to--and there it was. The begging and breathiness of Daisy’s voice caused her to give into Daisy’s request. Hopefully, they’d have loads more times for her to endlessly torture her with soft touches, but right now, Amelia would give Daisy what her body craved.

As the bra came away, Amelia dipped her head lower, almost purring at the hands tangling in her hair as she wrapped her lips around a nipple. Her tongue and lips working it over as her hands roamed from Daisy’s other breast, squeezing and kneading, raking lightly down her stomach to grasp at her hips.

Once she was satisfied with the work she’d done, she repeated with the other, listening to the breaths and moans that fell from Daisy’s lips. It was like what she’d heard before, and yet, it was somehow clearer. As if those other worlds hadn’t quite been as in high definition as this one was now. It was real. There was no denying it.

Her fingers slipped underneath the pink underwear still separating the two of their bodies, running along the edge before dipping lower to trace along still concealed lips. She pulled her head up to look up towards the girl laying beneath her, smirk on her face and brow quirking ever so slightly as she gave one final little wordless tease, fingers dancing along beneath thin fabric.

DAISY

She did her best not to moan, but soft whimpers left her lips instead. Amelia’s fingers burned through her, sending waves of desire through her core.

When Amelia touched her -- really touched her -- she couldn’t help it. She gasped sharply, one hand grasping the couch, her nails digging into the fabric and nearly snagging on it. The other hand, in Amelia’s hair, tightened as well, knotting through the golden waves. Her hips bucked towards Amelia’s hands, and she wanted to feel more -- more pressure, more friction, more of this delightful, commanding woman.

She tilted her head up, meeting Amelia’s lips ever so slightly, teasing her lips before kissing them. Her teeth caught on Amelia’s bottom lip and she tugged on it, hard.  

Part of her wanted to take control again. After all, that was what she was used to. She liked to be on top, liked to control what the other person was feeling. She squirmed a little, but ultimately just gave into the pleasure.

AMELIA

That gasp did nothing but fuel her want for every sound she could elicit from the blonde. Her fingers beginning to explore Daisy much more freely beneath the thin fabric still on her body, dragging up through that dampness pooling between her legs to press up against her clit, massaging the bundle of nerves as she gazed down at Daisy who’d taken hold of her lower lip, a small bit of that fire coming out to lick at her to remind her just who she was dealing with.

She wanted to see Daisy come entirely undone again beneath her fingers and she’d get that satisfaction soon enough. They were both very similar in that way. Both wanting to control all facets of their lives, so to have one of them on their back completely surrendering control (or surrendering enough to be taken over) was an event to collect, store away, and appreciate both in the moment and looking back. All questions of how different it would be this time would be answered and put to bed.

Her fingers slowly stroked down and dipped into her entrance, slowly sliding in one at a time as her thumb took up the task of teasing her clit. She pressed two fingers deep, as far as the angle that her arm rested, would allow as her head dipped down and kissed up along her throat slowly. The feeling of being inside Daisy once more was much less foggy, as if a blurry photo had finally come into focus revealing something entirely different, yet familiar and beautiful that you hadn’t appreciated to its fullest extent until now.

DAISY

She felt so flushed, so warm. Her breathing was already short, just from Amelia’s touch through the thin fabric of her panties. Daisy could feel herself getting wetter, knew that Amelia could as well and the thought of that just made the heat grow and grow.

Look what you do to me, she wanted to purr, but before she could say anything, a breathy moan left her lips and she felt her back arch slightly.

Daisy whimpered, clinging to Amelia as her fingers slipped through the edge of Daisy’s panties, stroking along her entrance. She bucked her hips towards Amelia’s waiting hand, longing for more, wanting more, craving Amelia’s touch inside of her. Amelia’s lips were at her throat, her fingers slipped deep inside and Daisy was already so close --

It was almost embarassing how disarmed she was.

She grinded herself against Amelia’s hand, the pressure against her clit, the fingers deep inside her, and knotted her fingers in Amelia’s hair again.

“Oh mon dieu,” she breathed out. “Oh -- make me come, please. Please. I want to come for you.”

AMELIA

The movement of Daisy’s hips against her fingers only served to aid her in giving Daisy exactly what she wanted (and what Amelia wanted, of course). Amelia was no stranger to pleasuring women, but she was a distance acquaintance to pleasuring Daisy, a girl who’d captured her attention the moment she’d walked up to her in that art gallery in France. The captain couldn’t help herself and Swynlake was very keen on helping the two of them in some strange and mysterious way.

What would the world think if they saw Daisy Canard right now? Crying out for an orgasm at the mercy of her fingers exploring the depths into where essentially none of her kind had traveled. Amelia had to reason out why she shouldn’t attempt to draw out more words that would feed the power she felt having this woman undone beneath her and practically begging for her. She gave into her reasoning though, figuring there’d be time for further exploration later and granting her request by picking up the pace to meet her all too greedy hips, thumb flicking and pressing up against her clit intermittently. She leaned her head against Daisy’s forehead, almost purring at the fingers tugging at her hair, she breathed out, “You’re never not one to do what you set out to accomplish.” She smirked, curling her fingers inside the blonde beneath her, “Come for me then.”

DAISY

She had not realised just how much she had been holding back until this moment, as her orgasm swept through every inch of her body. Her hips rose towards Amelia, her toes curled, and her fingers twisted in the fabric of the couch.

Daisy almost cried out. She did, in fact, but she did her best to stifle the noise, biting down on her lip so hard that she almost drew blood.

The hand that was in Amelia’s hair must’ve twisted something terrible, but the thought it hurting Amelia was so far removed from Daisy’s mind. Was it selfish? Perhaps. Perhaps it was terribly so and perhaps Amelia would want nothing to do with her come morning, come magic spell washed away, come another reality dawning on them.

But right now --

Now another wave of pleasure washed over her and she rode it till the end, tightening around Amelia’s fingers, whimpers leaving her lips till the last of it faded away and she was left with the warm lingering feeling.

Breathlessly, she leaned forward, pulling Amelia closer to her and kissing her passionately.

AMELIA

The former captain hadn’t realized just how much seeing Daisy fall apart beneath her once more would affect her. She felt her own desire pooling beneath the fabric of her underwear as she watched Daisy cry out as best she could through a furrowed brow and slightly gritted teeth due to the fist in her hair (not that she was complaining, the hair pulling sort of added an entirely different element she’d explore later).

Her fingers kept small movements to draw out the orgasms washing over the blonde wrapped around them. Walls clenching down around her fingers and providing resistance for their movement, Amelia finally stopped her movements all together, which if she hadn’t done then, she would’ve in a moment because Daisy had a way of distracting her from a task like no one else could possibly fathom.

She kissed the younger woman back just as passionately, knowing she’d done a rather bang up job (not that she ever didn’t). She allowed herself to be pulled, knowing full well that Daisy would have her revenge in turning the tables on who dominated whom so she’d give her this small bit of control again. She pulled away, a bit breathless from the exertion of it all and the feverish kissing, a large grin on her face like the cat who ate the canary (well, she hadn’t exactly eaten the canary yet, but the night was still young).  “All that you remembered, darling?” She couldn’t help herself, the term of endearment just stuck with her. She pressed another small kiss to her lips, pressing their foreheads together. Whatever the morning brought, they’d have tonight just as they’d had all the other nights they shared.