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daipeanutsaiban · 5 months ago

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Hello! Um I know it's been a few months since you said people could ask you more questions on your tgaa thoughts, but I was hoping to ask about your baskerzieks and genshinxwife ones. Like how they met, or what their last in person convos went like before each couple separated/died, etc, bc I really adore your Lady B & Mrs. Asougi designs! They deserved first names 😭

Also I'd love to hear your genklint/ville thoughts too if you care to share those!

ALSO I wanted to say you're 100% correct that if Kazuma & Klint ever actually met good ending au Kazuma would think he's the most annoying person alive. It's funny if genklint is platonic or romantic too, it's like Herlock Sholmes is right there and instead Kazuma thinks his dad's bf (best friend OR boyfriend lol) is significantly worse. Something something hating your parallel

Anyway no pressure, and sorry if you aren't looking to answer more questions at this time!

HI i love to yap and to yap about dgs especially so you're good haha <3 i'm the kind of person who needs to be asked tbh bc i tend to be self conscious/doubt myself so questions are always super appreciated 🥹💗 this post got LONG so i'm going to put it under a break to spare anyone who's just here for art or trying to look at memes during their lunch break

TL;DR: klint and primrose were engaged as kids but it was broken off upon his parents' death, it was renewed when he earned prestige as a prosecutor; their last conversation was when primrose forced him to confess his crimes to her but she'd started having doubts months ago; in my favorite hc, gkv never pursued one another beyond dropping hints here and there but because i am bisexual i also want them to have fun; genshin and yukari met by chance as teens and genshin had to convince his father to let them marry each other after finding out she was pregnant; he could never say his last words to her because writing about the professor's identity could've endangered her and kazuma.

first of all thank you so much, it makes me so happy when people enjoy my designs and characterizations for lady baskerville and mrs asougi!! for clarity, i'll be calling them by the names i gave them in this post, primrose and yukari respectively.

klint and primrose's engagement was decided by their parents and they met as children- i think they were probably feeling awkward around each other for a while since children don't really care about such things (right..?) and primrose actually chose to spend her time reading when her father would take her to visit, and she might've even been more interested in talking/playing with barok because there wouldn't be the daunting idea of an engagement looming on the horizon lol. eventually, she and klint do grow closer and come to consider each other friends thanks to him putting in a lot of effort to make her feel welcome and also have more fun (she finds him boring- i characterize klint as having been a very serious and dutiful child, though he does play with and dote on his brother).

when the van zieks parents die in my hc, losing their life in a fire specifically, primrose's father chooses to cancel their engagement because he doubts klint can suitably provide for his daughter- a cruel but logical decision as klint is just fourteen years old with no backing or achievements. as an aside, the fire is declared to be an unfortunate accident but klint silently believes it was premeditated- this incident contributes to him considering prosecution as a career. out of care for his brother, he never brings up this idea to barok.

still, primrose is a very clever child who's acutely aware that her father's doting is a form of control (such as making her wear beautiful, white clothes to easily find out if she's been sneaking out, which i think i talked about before), and she insists on meeting klint either at his estate or in the city while they both (and occasionally barok) wear disguises/common clothes. the latter option allows them to meet people outside of their social caste, and to develop a sympathy for them from an early age which also contributes to klint's growing bitterness towards other nobles. throughout his struggle to be taken seriously by these men in spite of his age, primrose continuously encourages him and even spies on her father's meetings with other gentlemen to then report to him, and this continues in their adult life with her reporting rumors and "gossip" from other ladies about their own husbands (with perhaps dire consequences in the long run, haha...)

primrose has ambitions of her own, though, many of which are philanthropic in nature and stem from guilt at being born in a wealthy household to a father who does not care about people other than his own. they are difficult to achieve as an unmarried woman (or even as a woman in general), as her father would never greenlight her ideas, and as such she becomes enraged with klint when he allows the engagement to be dispelled due to believing she would ultimately "be happier with someone else" when it would effectively condemn any ounce of freedom she could have. from primrose's perspective, klint is the only candidate for marriage because he actually respects her and understands her as a person.

their engagement was eventually reinstated following klint's multiple achievements, chiefly when he made a name for himself as an extremely prolific prosecutor and primrose's father couldn't really object to it (ha) anymore. when i researched, i learned that men in the victorian era would commonly get married in their thirties once their careers were established, and i especially like that for this couple because it means that genshin could've attended their wedding. (it's also amusing to picture klint pitching him as the best man while primrose is firmly in barok's camp and they have a silly spat about that, haha. but ngl i prefer genshin as their best man because it was tradition that the best man would drive the married couple to their month long honeymoon directly after the ceremony so. he could stay behind a little while if you catch my meaning. teehee)

on the topic of genklintville, my ultimate preference/personal "canon" is that they never outright acted upon their romantic or sexual interests in one another although the tension was clearly there. but like any bisexual on the internet, i like to indulge a little bit, as shown in my previous paragraph hehe. i like to imagine a kind of kinship between genshin and primrose as they are interested in similar literature and share a similar sense of humor as well (chiefly teasing klint- in a deadpan manner for genshin). klint and primrose tend to dote on genshin in a way they think is discreet, because they can sense his loneliness at being apart from his family even though he generally doesn't voice it, but as we all know genshin isn't a fool and it leaves him quite flustered haha. genshin also relates to klint in the way that they are both heirs to something "greater than them" (the asogi clan/the van zieks heritage) and sometimes yearn to break away from it which might contribute to why genshin left for london if the first place. i'd like to add that if i draw genklint without primrose present, it's taking place with her knowledge and consent, though them being pushed to cheating due to increasing stress or suchlike circumstances is an interesting angle- it's just not something i see myself making at present. though now saying that has made me think about the ways it could be fun to explore the way klint's lying and gaslighting keeps piling up, so what's one more lie? so i'd be interested in reading a story that would attest to his guilt from committing the act and his gaslighting towards not only his wife but also to himself, hmm. the best way that i can put it is that if i'm to explore gk without the v, she must be a relevant character because i'm not about to discard a canon female love interest to focus solely on the yaoi lmao.

now for genshin and yukari, or genyu for short as i like to call it in my head (lol)... there's a lot to cover here too 😵‍💫 some of this, particularly the stuff concerning ayame, is still undecided on but i thought the more context the better!

to understand their dynamic, it feels important to state/repeat my headcanons about the asogi clan aka genshin's immediate family beyond her and kazuma, which were mentioned here. but to summarize, they are very patriarchal, strict, and the type to suppress their emotions. genshin is his father's illegitimate child, and his real mother is... hm, well, she won't ever appear in my art because it's suitable for her character, but she's a high ranking courtesan, aka "oiran", and therefore pregnancy/being a mother could bring shame to her and likely ruin her livelihood, because they are meant to project the image of being unattainable both in appearance.. and price. her disappearing for some months to a year wouldn't be all that suspicious as few men can even afford to meet her.

because the oiran brings the House where she works good money, they help her cover up her pregnancy and her son's existence by sending him to live with his father as soon as possible. once, genshin tries to visit his mother, but he is turned away. in short, his first experience was to be abandoned by someone who was supposed to love him. i think this backstory also serves to give reason to his name (written with the kanji 'shadow' and 'truth') because he is a truth meant to be hidden by the government. if you think about his father giving him that name, it becomes quite sad and implies shame for bringing his son into the world. i think it would also justify the personality i like for him, which is more reserved and serious than how i portray the rest of the visiting trio (with a boisterous but ambitious seishiro and a downtrodden but shy and earnest yuujin), and with a greater disposition for being suspicious... which is naturally a good thing for a detective.

genshin's father's wife lost her life to an illness some years prior to genshin integrating into the asogi clan, which is why he sought comfort from the oiran. to avoid unsavory rumors and to preserve both women's reputation, syoma (genshin's father) forbids his son from venturing outside of the house - paralleling primrose's childhood, which they could bond over later in life - until he turns a certain age. he's the dark sheep of the clan, to make it short. it's by sneaking out as a child that he meets seishiro, and then yukari who is accompanying ayame.

as an aside, i want to add that while syoma holds misogynistic beliefs, he still feels a sense of responsibility so he does eventually pay off the oiran's debt in the end- not that she's particularly grateful since he led her on and made her promise not to abort his child without ever planning to marry her. not a great guy, but def a fun character to write. those are things genshin deduces in his teenage years, and he swears to never become like his father.

as for yukari, her family history is also nebulous, and i don't know if i even want to establish her circumstances before meeting ayame and genshin because i like the meta irony of those details remaining unknown to us just as they were unknown to those around her outside of how she is tied to other people. ayame's friend, genshin's wife, kazuma's mother- never her own person. she reaches a breaking point during genshin's absence, but i won't go into detail about that for now because it's part of a long project of mine. what i can say about her is that she does housework for ayame's family in exchange for room and board, but she's not categorized as a servant because ayame cherishes her, a privilege that makes her feel awkward at times.

genshin fell for her due to her frank and joyful approach to life which was so different from the outlook he was raised on, and she piqued his curiosity with her unusual and often "silly", but free, behavior. he has the utmost respect for her, which is why as much as i like gkv and think it could work in a modern au with yukari's inclusion/approval + rapid methods of communication, i think realistically genshin wouldn't have the heart to start anything with someone else when she is waiting for his every letter so far away. he wouldn't be able to read the expression on her face, and she could easily lie about being okay with it.

in this wikipedia article about marriage in japan in the edo period (1600-1868), it reads: "Members of the household were expected to subordinate all their own interests to that of the [household], with respect for an ideal of filial piety and social hierarchy. [...] Marriages were duly arranged by the head of the household, who represented it publicly and was legally responsible for its members, and any preference by either principal in a marital arrangement was considered improper."

you might've guessed where i'm going with this, but genshin's father had already chosen a wife for him, and that person was ayame, who is from a 'good' family. obviously that marriage didn't go through with yukari becoming pregnant at 18 or 19 (!!), and syoma capitulated to genshin's request that he be given permission to marry his girlfriend which only further strained his relationship with his father further. as for ayame, she was fortunate that the man she was interested in was studying medicine, and therefore struggled less for her family to accept yuujin as her husband. but for yukari, although she knows genshin doesn't love ayame, there's always that nagging feeling that she was the "wrong" choice. after all, she has to witness the interactions between genshin and his family every day, and her presence is often the source of tension. her only rock after ayame's death and genshin's departure is her son, who starts rejecting spending time with her as he grows older because, well, he's a teenager (something i want to expand on in that project i mentioned).

in yukari's case, she was never able to read her husband's last words as even writing about the professor's identity could endanger hers and kazuma's lives, but perhaps genshin had promised he would briefly return at the half-way point of his stay overseas and then ended up having to break that promise by choosing to investigate the professor killings before eventually losing his life. yukari's feelings of helplessness were confirmed as the truth in her eyes then.

as for primrose and klint's last conversation, it's been sitting in my wips for a while LOL. i def think she had her suspicions, and when she finally gathered her courage to confront him, he broke down and told her the truth. i've revised this comic and especially its dialogue so many times that i don't even know if i like it anymore, please pray for me 😅

It's funny if genklint is platonic or romantic too, it's like Herlock Sholmes is right there and instead Kazuma thinks his dad's bf (best friend OR boyfriend lol) is significantly worse.

this made me laugh LMAO honestly kazuma would be so petty about it meanwhile i feel like he'd get along super well with the man's own wife 😂 i also think that as an adult kazuma would admire his father less and even be a bit of a tsundere lol, but yeah in a No One Dies/Good Ending AU(tm) he'd probably resent genshin a little for leaving him and his mother, whose struggles he witnessed firsthand for ten years. hell, maybe he does resent him in the current circumstances even if it's not the dominant emotion when it comes to his father, it of course being grief... still. lord van zieks get your paws off my dad!! 🙄💢 also if genshin starts reciprocating the attention kazuma might start killing LOL

...this answer is now well over 2000 words and i still feel like i'm leaving things out i feel CRAZY omg. autism diagnosis unnecessary atp lmfao.

also just found this in my #yukanotes i should've just copy pasted all this augh. i love yukari very much she is extremely dear to me. 😊💗

thanks again for your questions I'M SORRY IT'S SO LONG....... i DO love to yap 🥹🥹💗

#i really should finish and post my comics about all these hcs =_=;;#i either always (wrongly) assume people dont care and/or am held back by my perfectionism orz #can u tell i was shamed for my interests as a child 🙂#ANYWAYS im trying to write out info for my dgs ocs on toyhouse right now so i'll share their profiles here whenever im finished!! >_<#when i say 'primrose becomes enraged with klint' she literally storms in and slaps him btw. so im worried ppl will hate on her but like.#when ur life is dependent on a boy who claims to love you but then abandons you to that kind of life?? and you're fourteen??? maybe ur not #in total control of ur emotions! just saying #the only other time she gets violent is well. when. you can take a guess at what would make her extremely angry and disappointed.#the great ace attorney #tgaa spoilers #dgs spoilers #headcanon #replies #drbtinglecannon #oc: primrose #oc: yukari #ayame mikotoba #klint van zieks #genshin asogi #baskerzieks #genklintville #and uhh #asogi couple #genyu #tagging for archiving purposes 🙇 sorry to clog ur feeds!!

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rafecameronzwhore · 1 year ago

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Boat ride

Warnings: smut, P in V, Oral (female and male receiving)

If i missed any warnings that should be there please tell me

Primrose is 2

Reader is a model

Restart masterlist link

Read the other parts before this one | can not be read as a stand alone!¡!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

After you had gotten off the phone with Primrose

Yours as Rafes romantic boat ride had continued

He was standing as he drove the boat and you sat on the sofa that was there

[I would imagine rafes boat looking something like this ^^^]

You looked up from your phone and noticed Rafe was still tense

So you got up and walked up behind him, putting your head on his back and hand slightly, gripping his shoulders

"What happened" you asked moving your head from his his back to resting on his broad shoulder looking at him

Instead of replying he just pulled you in front of him

So now he was hugging you resting his head on your delicate shoulder but still driving the boat and watching the water in front of him

You wrapped your hands around his neck and massaged his scalp with your nails

"What happened?" You asked

"Nothing... just- wondering"

"About"

"Does...Does Primrose remember me?"

You stayed quiet for a few seconds before answering

"Yeah, she does remember you rafe. Sometimes she even asks where you went"

Rafe stopped the boat and put his hand to your jaw lifting it up to kiss you deeply

Your hands tightened around his neck as you two continued to make out

Rafe then broke the kiss saying...

"I am so fucking sorry y/n, I should've never left you and Primrose alone. That is one of the biggest regrets I have made my lif-"

You cut him off by kissing him

"Oh Rafe" you say as you sigh

"I forgive you, and I'm sure Primrose will to. You had a reason, it's not like you just took off because you felt like it"

Rafe then kisses you again

Smut [skip to green if you want]

The kiss soon turned into a make-out

Rafe picked you up and laid you down on the couch as he started kissing down your neck, leaving marks

You couldn't control the soft moans that were coming out of you mouth

"Don't know how long I've been waiting to do this" he said as his arms found its way to the end of your [his] shirt, ready to pull it up

"Rafe- we're in the middle of the ocean"

"So? Not like there's anyone here to watch us"

He said as he pulled your [his] shirt over your head and you let him

"But what if another boat does come and see us!"

Rafe then lifted you up and carried you to the bedroom that was downstairs

"Better?" he asked with his iconic snirk and teasing voice

"Much" you replied with a smile on your face as you pulled him down by his shirt to kiss him

Rafe happily let you as he snaked his hand behind you to unclip your bra

You slightly lifted your back off the bed to help him

He then helped you pull your bra off as he kissed down your neck

Soon enough, both you and rafe were naked on the bed

You slowly make your way to your knees, kissing and locking his chest and abs on the way while not breaking eye contact with him

Soon enough when your on your knees in front of him

You pull his boxers down and wrap your hand around his dick

You slowly move your hand back and forth softly jerking him as you watch him throw his head back and moan softly

You then spit on his tip and take it into your mouth, sucking on his softly to tease him

"Don't tease sweetheart when you know what I want" he groans

You give in and take him deep into your throat

You swerl your tongue around his cock making him groan

"Fuck baby, forgot how good you are at sucking dick" Rafe moans

He then pulls you up and onto the bed, pinning you under him

He kisses your neck, going lower and lower

When he reaches your nippes he give birth if them a quick suck then continues his adventure to your pussy

Rafe kisses his way down and when he reaches your poosay

He sucks on your clit as he inserts a finger in you making you moan

"Ahh~ fuck, Rafey" you moan out in pleasure

He inserts another finger and curls both of them in you

"God, Rafe, I need you" you whimper when he stops sucking you clit to say

"Where baby, tell me what you want" then returns back to his task on sucking your clit

"In me~" you manage to say

Rafe stops what he's doing and kisses his way back up to your lips

The taste of his dick and your wetness mixing in your mouths

You moan into his mouth when you feel his dick at your entrance

Rafe pulls away from the kiss

"Nows the time to back out if you want, or else I'm not stopping" he says

"And when have I ever backed out" you pull him into a kiss

He chuckles against your lips then enters you not sparing any inch amount without you (he put his whole dick in you if you couldn't tell)

He thrusts in and out at a fast pace

His tip hitting your g spot every time

It wasn't long till you came

Having an intense orgasm

At the same time as you Rafe cums milking his cock inside of you

You both moan as you cum then a few minutes after you've both settled down

End of smut

Rafe pulls out of you then plops down on the bed next to you

He wraps his arm sloppily around your waist and pulls you towards him

You giggle as he kisses your forehead, chin, cheeks, nose then lips

You both cuddled for the rest of the night and fell asleep in each other's arms.

°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°

Wsp sweets

I would like to apologize for how long this took

I'm so sorry

This year has been hard for me

With the lost of my grandfather

And some drama at school

Alongside some other things like tests, rehearsals etc

So I've been busy and I'll try to update as frequently as I can

🫶💋

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #dad!rafe #rafe cameron x kook!reader

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footprintsinthesxnd · 8 months ago

Text

Chapter two: Bike Rides and Turning Tides

Harry Crosby x Maggie Reid / Ken Lemmons x Maggie Reid

Series Masterlist

This story is based on on the fictional portrayal of these men from the MOTA to series.

Summary: As Maggie is still trying to figure out what Ken and Harry mean to her, she realises who is there for her when she really needs them.

Collab with @georgieluz

July 4th 1943, Thorpe Abbot AAF base, 07:00

"Tell me everything," Mads threw herself down into the wooden chair on the opposite side of the table, her coffee steaming in front of her as she waited expectantly. "You avoided me all day yesterday, but I hear you were out on the hard stand with Ken all morning." She winked cheekily at her.

"There's nothing to tell," Maggie sighed, pushing her mushy, scrambled egg around on the plate in front of her. All morning Tatty, Helen and Mads had been quizzing her on her 'date' with Harry Crosby.

"Honestly, nothing happened. Harry just happened to be there, we had a nice chat, he walked me home. Then Ken showed up with flowers and a wrench, and then he left. So yes, nothing happened."

Mads looked a little disappointed running her index finger around the top of her mug before a new idea popped into her head. "But you wanted something to happen, right? I mean you like them right?"

"I don't know, Mads," Maggie groaned, she loved her friend's enthusiasm but right now it was just too much. Her mind was too preoccupied with the thoughts of two different men that Mad's chaotic behaviour was not helping.

"What are we talking about?" Archie and Jimmy appeared behind her, Archie bent over pressing a kiss to her temple as he sat down, stealing a piece of toast off Maggie's plate and biting into it.

"We're discussing Maggie's love life but she's giving me nothing," Mad's pouted.

"Like I said, there's nothing to tell," Maggie corrected her.

"So Harry Crosby truly was a gentleman then," Archie mused, finishing the piece of toast before he took a long swig of his coffee.

"Yes, but there wasn't just Harry. Lovely little Ken Lemmons was waiting outside our hut for her all night with a wrench and some primroses," Mads added, ignoring the glare Maggie sent her way.

"Ken Lemmons hey, who would have thought it, and primroses too. They're your favourites, right Maggie?" Jimmy added, winking at Archie.

Maggie glared at him. Of course, those two had something to do with this. The mischievous smile on their faces instantly gave them away as the culprits.

"They are actually," she replied nonchalantly, trying to ignore the two smirking faces in front of her. Instead, her eyes trailed upwards, catching those of a certain navigator who waved shyly at her across the mess hall.

She waved back, ignoring her friends who spun frantically around in their seats to see who she was waving at.

"Crosby!" The three exclaimed, turning back quickly as a few eyes, including Harry's glanced over.

Maggie's face grew redder as she felt Harry's eyes still on her, she wanted to look back over but then she knew she'd be blushing even more. Her heartbeat quickened in her chest as a pair of legs appeared out of the corner of her eye.

"Good morning, Crosby. Did you sleep well?" Archie asked cheerfully, sipping his fresh cup of coffee with a wide smile. Mads leant back in her chair beside him, smiling sweetly.

"Yes I-I did… thank you," Harry stumbled over his words, eyes trained on Maggie who plucked up the courage to send him a small smile. Harry looked so happy that the crushing guilt began to grow in her chest. Why had she expected the flowers from Ken? She'd had such a lovely evening with Harry, but then Ken…

"Isn't that right, Maggie?" Archie asked, sending a knowing look her way as she felt three pairs of eyes on her.

"Umm… yes, yes of course," she replied, absolutely oblivious to what she was agreeing to, but from the three smiling faces looking at her it must have been the right answer.

"Excellent, I still have the bikes from last night so feel free to borrow those," Archie declared, standing up and dragging Mads and Jimmy up beside him. "Come on Madison, let's leave these two to their fun day of activities."

Mads and Jimmy nodded, following after Archie but not before turning to give Maggie a 'thumbs up'. Maggie made it her mission to scold her when she next saw the nurse, but Harry quickly took the seat that Mads had occupied.

"I hope that's okay with you…b-because if not I can…” Harry began rambling but Maggie grabbed his hand, stopping the blushing navigator mid-sentence.

"Harry, I'm sure it's fine but I maybe…sort of…did zone out and I'm not entirely sure what I've volunteered for," she admitted, biting her lip anxiously while Harry's face relaxed and he chuckled.

"You've volunteered to take me out on a bicycle ride," he smiled cheerfully, "and a picnic."

Harry seemed awfully pleased with himself and Maggie could find it in her to tell him she had a lot of work to get through today.

"Of course, I'd be happy to. How about you arrange the picnic and I'll grab the bikes?" She asked hopefully, shovelling in the last of the powdered eggs on her plate.

"Yes, yes of course….absolutely…I'll," Harry stumbled backwards away from his chair, catching himself before he fell. "I'll get right on that… Yes, I will." His cheeks glowed bright red and Maggie couldn't help the smile growing on her lips as she watched him hurry away on his important mission.

Finishing her coffee, Maggie glanced down at her overalls, noticing the dark oil stains and rips in the fabric. She couldn't go out with Harry looking like this. What would people say?

Pushing herself hastily away from the table, she rushed from the mess hall, hurrying back towards the Red Cross hut, praying that either Tatty or Helen would still be there to help her. She wasn't sure why she was so worried. The first time she'd met Harry she'd fallen on her arse, flailing around on the floor in her overalls, but somehow this time was different. This time she wanted to impress her.

Her boots hammered at the Nissan but steps as she threw open the door, startling Helen and Tatty who were sitting on their beds, chatting quietly,

"Girls!" She exclaimed, "I need your help."

Thorpe Abbotts Base AAF Sector, 09:00

Maggie, tugged at the blue shirt that seemed to stick to her body, praying that she wasn't sweating through the thin material. She'd opted for a shirt and thin summer trousers after the fiasco with her dress last time she ridden the bike. Helen and Tatty had helped style her hair, pinning the front parts of her hair neatly, while her remaining curls hung loosely at her shoulders.

She waited anxiously, checking her watch for the fourth time in a few minutes. Maggie knew she hadn't set an exact time to meet Harry but the apprehension only grew and she began to chew at her cheek.

A dark-haired figure appeared from behind one of the Nissen huts, a wide smile on his face and a wicker basket underneath his arm. He waved excitedly at her, tripping over but managing to save himself before he hit the ground. Maggie gasped, hurrying forward but he recovered, cheeks a little redder but still smiling nonetheless.

"Sorry I'm late, Bubbles was drilling me about the other night," he admitted, placing the basket down beside him, "Don't worry, I didn't tell him too much."

Maggie laughed, leaning back against the bikes, "I do hope so, Harry. I can't have the whole of the Eighth Air Force knowing all my secrets."

"Duly noted," Harry saluted her, allowing his eyes to trail over her. "Maggie, you look… wow you look amazing," Harry breathed as he reached her. His dark eyes shone brightly and his cheeks crinkled as he smiled.

"Thank you," Maggie blushed, pulling at the sleeves of the shirt Helen had lent her. It wasn't normally her style, but then again her style mainly consisted of overalls, or corduroy trousers and boots back home.

The pair watched each other nervously, neither too sure what to say next before they both spoke in unison.

"We should…"

"Shall we…"

Harry chuckled, "Shall we go?"

Maggie nodded, pushing one of the bikes towards Harry so he could secure the picnic basket on the back, before climbing into the saddle.

"So, do you know the area well?" He asked, pushing down the pedals shakily and pulling onto the gravel road beside her.

"Well enough," she mused, pushing her bike ahead of his, "Keep up, Crosby, I don't want you lagging".

The chains in the bike creaked as Maggie's feet came in contact with the pedals, her boots pushing them forward as the rickety metal frame began to move. She couldn't vouch for the safety of this bike, especially considering Archie was just borrowing them, but she appreciated the sentiment and the fact that they didn't have to walk.

Harry grinned cheerfully beside her, his legs slowly pushing the bike forward down the tarmacked road leading out of the base. Maggie was glad that she had chosen to wear trousers instead of a dress after her last mishap with a bike resulting in her blue dress being stained with oil.

Maggie couldn't help but chuckle, watching as Harry threw his head back, allowing the sun to cast its glow over his handsome features, his eyes shining brightly as he glanced over at her.

They neared the exit to the base, turning right and following the road away from the village and towards the lush, open green landscape. The viridescent fields and hills roll by calmly.

Maggie pushed herself forward, keeping up with Harry easily.

"You enjoying the view," she jested, watching as Harry's cheeks grew a dark crimson and he glanced away. "I don't mind if you are, just nice to know."

Harry cleared his throat, "Well, maybe I do like the view actually," he admitted rather sheepishly, meeting his gaze for a few seconds.

"Good," she declared, "Maybe you'll enjoy the view as you eat my dust." She took off down the road, legs pedalling faster than before as the bike carried her swiftly away. She cheered and whooped, ignoring Harry's shouts of protest from behind her as he trailed along, bringing up the rear.

Maggie continued to cycle on, following the winding road down around the perimeter of the base, until the road forked over the river and she stopped at the small stone bridge. Harry appeared from around the bend, his legs pedalling faster than ever as he came to a screeching halt before her.

"Well," Harry sighed, catching his breath with a chuckle, "You sure did give me a run for my money."

Maggie laughed, "Never underestimate an English girl, Croz," she pointed her finger at his chest and he raised his hands in mock surrender.

"I would never."

The afternoon trundled on and Maggie finally found the spot she was looking for beside the river. It's where the river bent around an old tree, following either side of it on its path towards the sea.

She dropped her bike down on the grassy verge, flopping down beside it with a sigh. Harry followed suit, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as the hot summer sun began to get to him.

"What's Iowa like, Harry?" Maggie asked, picking at the grass beside her leg as she glanced at him.

Harry smiled fondly, "Well it's generally pretty cold in the winter, it snows but it's not too heavy. The summers are my favourite, hot and humid and you have really long summer evenings. The summer evenings are my favourite. It's normally around mid-eighties Fahrenheit."

Maggie chuckled, "You Yanks and your Fahrenheit."

Harry shook his head, "Sorry, it's just the measurements I know." He waited a minute before continuing his story about Iowa. Maggie loved how passionately he talked about his home, she'd never travelled more than four hours from where she was born and yet many of the young men on base were hundreds of miles from theirs.

Harry paused for a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "The State's flag has an eagle on it."

He seemed rather chuffed about that particular fact and Maggie laughed, enjoying his boyish behaviour.

"Well if I'm ever in a quiz about the State of Iowa I have a pretty good chance of winning," she laughed, causing Harry to blush, ducking his head down in embarrassment.

"Sorry, I know I reeled off a lot, it's just things that are familiar to me and…"

"No not at all," she interrupted him, "No I like hearing about your home. I can't even imagine what it must be like to be so far from your home. I'd love to visit the States someday," she mumbled, tugging absentmindedly at the sleeve of the shirt, "I just can't imagine travelling so far."

"Maybe one day I could take you there, to Iowa I mean. You could come to visit," Harry suggested a nervous smile on his lips.

Maggie smiled, "I don't know about that, leaving England. I'd never even left Dorset until the war began, now I've been to a few more places but nothing too far," she admitted, suddenly feeling self-conscious that she hadn't had to brave the trip to a new country to help with the war effort. Even the Red Cross girls had come further than she had.

Harry, sensing her uncertainty, reached forward, grasping her hand in his, "Then maybe this could be your first big adventure."

Harry was right, nothing was stopping her from travelling to the States with Harry after the war. She didn't have to stay there if she didn't like it, and her family would always be here waiting for her.

"Alright Croz, you've got yourself a deal. If this war ever ends you owe me a trip to the States."

Harry laughed at her enthusiasm, "You've got yourself a deal."

All too soon the morning drew into afternoon, and the pair decided to head back, pedalling slowly along the deserted road. The summers sun still hung high in the sky, beating down onto their backs. Maggie was pleased that the shirt she had borrowed was thin and the wind blew through the fine material cooling her easily.

Cycling home was nowhere near as fun as when they'd flown down these roads earlier, and Maggie could see by the way Harry hung his head low that he felt the same. Back on base, everything was loud and demanding, but out here, just the two of them the world was soft and quiet. If only they could say here forever.

"We should do this again sometime," Maggie suggested as they turned up the gravel road, and through the gates back onto the air base. The sign to Thorpe Abbott hanging by the post, and they both nodded to the guard on the gate.

"I'd like that very much," Harry nodded enthusiastically, his smile a little brighter than the gloomy look on his face a few moments before. Maggie's heart swelled as she looked at him, his face crinkling as he grinned at her. There was something warm and safe about Harry Crosby, like she'd known him forever and knew that he'd look out for her. Maggie wasn't sure what it was but it made her smile at him in return.

"Then we will have to arrange it. My sister and I cycled all over the place when we were children."

"I'd like to meet your family someday, I-if you'd let me of course," he added nervously, "They seem like lovely people."

Maggie wasn't sure whether she wanted Harry to meet her family. Life at home was so different from her life on base, here she was strong and independent but at home, she was back beneath the shadow of her perfect sister.

"Sure, maybe one day," Maggie replied vaguely, hoping the answer would settle Harry for the time being.

Pulling up their bikes beside the RAF Nissen hut and propping them against the wall, Maggie noticed a familiar figure watching them.

Ken sat on the bench across the field, fiddling with some spare parts on the table with Billy and Sammy. The two boys spotted Maggie, waving frantically and calling them over. Ken sent her a cold smile and Maggie couldn't help but feel out of place joining their peaceful moment. Harry walked beside her, grinning happily at Ken who greeted them indifferently, his voice low.

"Maggie. Lieutenant Crosby," he nodded, his eyes never leaving the motor he was tinkering with.

"Lemmons," Harry greeted him somewhat smugly and Maggie wondered if there was some unspoken conversation going on between them that she wasn't aware of.

"Maggie, did you go on a bike ride?" Billy asked, squeezing in between Maggie and Harry and looking up at her excitedly.

"I sure did, kiddo. We went on a little tour of the countryside, gotta show Harry here was England's all about."

The two boys nodded enthusiastically and Sammy moved around to join Maggie, both of them wrapping their arms around her to which Maggie did the same. She couldn't help but smile at their affection, but glancing up she noticed Harry and Ken watching her, both with soft expressions and round eyes that made Maggie feel slightly uncomfortable. She coughed, bringing them back to attention and Ken bent his head down, collecting his tools that were littered across the table.

"I should probably be heading back to the handstand, gotta finish up over there," he mumbled, never once looking in Maggie's direction. She couldn't help the guilt that brewed inside her as she watched him and the two boys go all away. How could she do this to Ken? But then again they were just friends, right?

It was strange really. When Maggie was with Harry she felt jovial, and carefree, like she could laugh forever, and she was happy when she was in Harry's presence. Then Ken came along, he was soft, quiet, and gentle and Maggie felt her heart rate increase for a completely different reason. She didn't know what she was feeling, but her heart felt more conflicted than it had the other evening.

Harry stirred beside her, leaning a little closer than he had before and tentatively wrapped his arm around her shoulder. For a moment Maggie froze, shoulders stiffening under Harry's touch but the warmth she felt from him quickly soothed her nerves. She leant into his touch smiling up at him. A pink blush was spreading across his cheeks and the tips of his ears turned a little red.

"I had a nice time today, Maggie," Harry spoke quietly, his lips seemingly moving in slow motion as Maggie processed his words.

"I had a nice time today too," she assured him, "but I'm still better at riding a bike than you, you're like an old man on that bike."

Harry chuckled, shoving Maggie's shoulder lightly, "All right you little Spitfire."

Maggie grinned at the nickname and Harry quickly interjected, "I know you're a Lancaster mechanic but geewiz you were quick down those lanes."

"No, no it's okay," Maggie turned so she could face Harry better, her hand coming to rest on his own, "No, I like the nickname."

Harry's nervousness from earlier disappeared, and he reached out, brushing a loose blonde lock that had blown across Maggie's face. "Good," he mumbled, his eyes looking down at her and Maggie could feel the heat growing in her cheeks. Maggie could feel Harry leaning forward, his breath fanning across her face. This was the closest they had ever been and…

"Maggie?" Jimmy called out, jogging over to the couple with his toolbox in hand. "I'm really sorry to break up whatever's going on here," his eyes darting between the two before he continued, "But Maggie I really need your help. The boys have a mission tonight and we've got a problem with our lead bomber."

Maggie shot up from her seat, dropping Harry's hand a little harsher than she would have liked. She watched as his face fell and she leant forward, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Harry but I have to go," she couldn't decide whether the interruption of their almost kiss was a good thing or not, but she pushed it from her mind.

Harry nodded quickly, the small smile returning to his face, "No not at all, don't worry. I'll see you later."

Maggie turned, quickly falling into step beside Jimmy. She wasn't sure whether she should have glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Harry or not, but her eyes remained focused ahead of her.

Jimmy could sense the tension around the situation and nudged into her shoulder, "Now it's none of my business and I don't know what I just interrupted, but you should know that Ken Lemmons's kid came around asking for you today. Came over to the handstand. I told him you weren't there and would be back later, then he stayed another hour or so playing with June. She's really taken a shine to him and you know dogs are a good judge of character."

Maggie turned, "You're right, Jimmy it isn't any of your business," she snapped, watching as her friend's eyebrows raised and his lips set in a thin line.

"As you wish," he began walking in the direction of the handstand, not glancing back to see if she was following. Jimmy was one of her best friends and despite their stressful jobs she'd never once snapped at him.

"Jimmy, wait. I'm sorry," she ran after him, grabbing his arm so he couldn't keep walking away from her. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it, I justâ€¦" She sighed, tugging her fingers through her blonde curls, "I just don't know what to do".

It was true, she didn't know what to do. All of a sudden two men were showing great interest in her, seemingly aware of each other and yet they still wanted to be around her. She wasn't sure which was worse, having no men interested in her or having two at the same time.

"It's no big deal," Jimmy shrugged, throwing his arm around Maggie's shoulders and pulling her after him. "Now were not placing bets or anything, but my money's on Kenny boy."

Maggie snorted, shoving him dramatically, "You are no help at all, Jimmy."

"Well, the boys got my vote."

And just like that, everything was back to normal, at least for Jimmy it was. He whistled the rest of the way to the handstand, swinging his toolbox as he went. Maggie remained quiet, her mind too preoccupied to join in with the tune. Every time she thought of the lovely day she'd had with Harry she saw Kenny's disappointed face smiling sadly back at her. The sooner the job on the bombers was done, the sooner she could go and find him. She had to talk to him, to explain herself in some way and…well she didn't know what to do after that, but she had to do something.

Thorpe Abbott base RAF sector, 19:00

"Are 'The Girls' airworthy?" Archie asked, swinging his bag onto his back as he sauntered towards his bomber. His flying jacket hung loosely on his arm and he looked like a poster boy for the RAF.

Maggie smiled, "She's as airworthy as she can be after the beatings you keep giving her, but she'll get you there and back if you treat her right."

Archie nodded, watching as his copilot, Murray, hoisted himself up into the fuselage, "Well, then I know she'll be fine."

Maggie nodded, throwing her arms around Archie's shoulders, "Just be safe okay? I don't want to find out you did something stupid and got yourself killed."

"I promise, nothing stupid Mags," he pressed his lips to her forehead, holding her close for a moment longer before he pulled away. This was the same ritual they had for every mission Archie had flown since they met, and so far it had worked.

Pulling away Maggie cupped his cheek tenderly, "You know you're a real pain in the ass sometimes, but I wouldn't trade you for anyone."

Archie grinned, squeezing Maggie's hand, "I'll be back before you know it." He stepped away, turning and heading to the plane before Maggie could say anything else, before she could protest, begging him not to go. He knew she wanted to and he couldn't blame her, but this was war, it's what he came here to do.

Maggie remained frozen to the spot, unable to move until Archie was back on the hard stand. She hated mission nights more than anything else that this wretched war had thrown at her, mission nights were the worst. She could never settle, could never sleep. Some of the other ground crew would try and catch a few hours shut eye until the siren went off to announce the bomber's arrival back home, but Maggie couldn't bring herself to leave.

She found her usual seat on the nearby stack of crates, settling herself in for a long night. June curled up on the lower crate beside her, nuzzling into Maggie's flight jacket that she'd laid out for the spaniel. Despite the warm afternoon weather, the nights were still cool in July and Maggie knew she'd grow to regret not having her jacket on, but how could she leave June without something soft to lie on?

The Lancaster's began to roar to life, pulling off the hard stand and out onto the runway. Archie saluted her through the small cockpit window as his plane pulled away, she saluted back, a large lump forming in her throat.

Before the tears could begin to fall, a coat was pulled around her shoulders causing Maggie to jump, before she noticed Ken looking down at her, a soft smile on his lips.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"No, it's okay," Maggie replied, her voice thick with emotion. She couldn't bring herself to let her voice grow any louder.

"Thought you could use some company."

Maggie nodded, "Thanks Ken." She patted the crate, and Ken wriggled in closely, stroking June's head to which the little spaniel wagged her tail, beating it against the crate beneath her.

The Lancasters were at the end of the runway, lifting off into the sky one at a time. The sun was setting now, the blues of the day drifting into purples and pinks before the fiery orange spread across the landscape. The planes creating dark silhouettes against the terracotta sky. It felt like a bad omen, as if the planes were doomed to go up in flames, but Maggie tried to push the thought away. As they disappeared into the distance the airfield grew quiet, the rumble of the plane's engines disappearing leaving everyone waiting with baited breath for their return.

The hours seemed to pass so slowly that Maggie had begun to wonder if time was frozen until the sun had completely set and the sky grew dark. At some point in the silence, Ken had wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer when she shivered at the night's harsh breeze.

June whined sadly, scratching at Ken's leg until he lifted her, placing her onto Maggie's lap.

"It's okay June, Uncle Archie will be back. He always comes back to us," Maggie reassure her and the spaniel looked up, her brown eyes looking sadly at her.

"How long have you known Archie?" Ken asked, leaning his head against Maggie's, his hand rubbing small circles on her back.

The blonde thought for a moment, a smile forming on her lips as she spoke, "Just over a year. We became friends almost instantly. He's all I had for a long time."

Ken nodded, his lips forming a smile as he looked down at the girl in his arms. He wasn't sure what he was doing. Something just seemed to draw him to Maggie, and despite her obvious friendship with Harry, he couldn't help himself. Her head lay gently against his shoulder, her blonde hair fanning over his chest.

Maggie glanced up at Ken, their faces just inches away as she spoke and Ken could feel her breath on his face. "About earlier…with Harry, I mean…it's…it's not what…"

"Hey, shhh shhh, you don't have to explain anything. There's nothing to explain," he pressed his head against hers, nearly pressing his lips to her forehead. The closeness they shared was the most intimate moment that Maggie had ever felt, maybe even more intimate than her almost kiss with Harry that she tried to push from her mind. It didn't seem right, not like it did with Ken. Maggie's heart felt heavy as she snuggled further into Ken's arms. Why did emotions have to be so complicated?

"You don't have to wait out here with me all night if you don't want to. I'm used to waiting on my own, except June of course," Maggie added, her blue eyes drifting up to meet his.

Ken shook his head, "No it's alright. I want to stay with you…if that's okay with you of course," Ken added, scratching the back of his neck.

Maggie lifted her arm, running her finger over his cheek, turning his head to look at her, "Of course, I do, Ken. It's nice to have some company."

"Good," Ken pulled her close, ensuring his jacket was tightly wrapped around Maggie's shoulders, June shuffled up closer to benefit from the warmth of the jacket. "I'm not going anywhere."

Tags: @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @blurredcolour @artlover8992 @b00ks1ut @xxluckystrike @hockeyboysarehot @groovin2beats @kmc1989 @ginabaker1666 @hesbuckcompton-baby @vera-keller @blueberry-ovaries

#beneath the blue sky #masters of the air #harry crosby #Harry Crosby x oc #Ken Lemmons #Ken Lemmons x oc #maggie reid #Archie Sullivan #mota

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lovevalley45 · 2 months ago

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#fictober24 - day twenty-three

"We can fix this, I know we can."

original fiction (power payback)

word count: 1239

Of all the people to visit Magni, his dad was low on his list.

It made sense that his mom would reach out to him. After all, being a Talent, learning that he was a technopath, was something a dad should know about.

Despite the fact that they hadn't lived under the same roof since he was in the first grade, he tried to make an effort. Weekend outings, camping trips, attending swim meets and birthday parties - checking in on him now shouldn't have been strange.

But still, Magni got a weird feeling when he opened the door to Marcel Sempers.

"Hey, there, kiddo," he said, smiling. "I heard you were taking a few days off of school."

"Yeah," Magni said. If he had known that his dad was going to swing by, he'd have changed out of his pajamas and tried to do something with his hair. But for now, he moved out of the way to let him in.

"Is your mom around?" his dad asked.

"No." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "She thought about working from home, but then she realized I wouldn't want to hear her laptop." Besides, he was thirteen. He didn't need his mom babying him when all he really wanted was to be alone.

Marcel nodded. "Right. Your Talent."

He sort of understood his father's confusion. Technopathy was a newer Talent. It had taken three different talantologists to find someone experienced in super-sensory abilities that could put a finger on it. It felt good to have an answer. But now, he had the problem of trying to avoid computers for the rest of his life.

"Yeah." He walked to the kitchen, dropping down at the breakfast nook. "Did Mom tell you?"

"She called, yeah." Marcel sat across from him. He leaned his forearms on the table with an air of casualness, but he didn't quite believe it.

"Are you… mad? That I'm a Talent?" Magni asked.

"I'm not mad, Magpie. Just… go get dressed. I want to take you somewhere."

"I don't really feel like going out," he said.

"Come on. I'm going to help you." He smiled again. "You trust your old man, don't you?"

His chair screeched against the tile as he pushed it back. "Alright."

As Magni went into his room and changed, he wondered what his dad had in mind. Maybe surprising him with ice cream and a nice father-son talk. But he doubted it. His dad was not the "let's talk about our feelings" type.

Once he was out of his pajamas and in semi-nice clothes, he let his dad lead him out to his car. He always felt strange climbing into his Lexus, out of place.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going now?" Magni asked as he started to pull out of his and his mother's driveway.

"You'll see," he said.

Marcel drove out of Westside, going from familiar streets towards the more suburban areas bordering Bright City. He knew this was around where his father had moved after he and his mother split up. Was he taking him back to his townhouse?

But instead, he stopped at the church he attended. Magni and his mother weren't that religious. However, sometimes she allowed his father to take him to Sunday service. He wasn't a fan of this church, not really.

"Why are we here?" he asked.

"I said I'd help you." He started unbuckling his seatbelt. "Let's go."

Magni peered out the window. His talantologist had urged his mom to help him find support groups, fellow peers who were Talents. It wasn't like he didn't have Sprout and Primrose, even though she was much older than them. But maybe this was one of those.

He followed his dad into the church. It was a Wednesday afternoon, but the front rows were occupied. He caught the eye of another kid his age, a boy with sad looking eyes. The woman beside him, presumably his mother, gave him a pitying look.

He had a feeling this was not one of those support groups.

Marcel led them to a couple of seats in the very front row. Magni sat down beside him, digging his nails into his knees. Cell phones, the service they got, weren't too loud. But in a higher volume like this, so close, with nerves already making him hyperaware, it only made him want to run.

The pastor, the guy whose name he could never remember, came to the pulpit. "Welcome, all of you. I'm grateful you could make it here today. I see Brother Marcel has brought a guest to our service today."

Magni felt the blood pounding in his ears, almost like he had a sixth, no, seventh sense for the people's eyes landing on him. He wasn't sure to acknowledge him, frozen to the spot.

"Come on, Magni, don't be shy," his dad said. The tone he took made him feel like his dad was urging him to play with the other kids at the park, not announce himself at whatever this was.

"Hey," he said, raising a hand.

"Are you joining us to clear the impurity you've come in contact with?" the pastor asked.

"What- what impurity?" Magni asked.

He heard a snicker from the row behind him. He wasn't aware he had any impurity. Never had he tried to look up porn on the family computer or even masturbated. The only thing he could think of was-

"Your Talent. Surely that's why your father has brought you here."

Magni turned to his dad. He was unconcerned, listening intensely to the pastor. "Oh, no- I-" His words turned to mush in his throat, choking any attempt to argue. "I-"

The pastor stepped down and held out a hand. "Come here, boy."

He did the only thing he knew what to do. Magni stood up, and ran down the aisle, into the lobby, to the ancient payphone still installed on the wall.

At least he'd brought his wallet, he thought, putting two quarters in and dialing his mom's work number.

"Hello, this is Irene Quinn with Levy and Pierce. How may I help you today?"

"Mom?" he asked.

“Magni?” His mom sounded stressed. “Are you alright? What happened?”

He glanced over at the door as it swung open, his dad reappearing. “I just- Dad came over, and he took me to his church-”

Marcel lifted the phone out of his hand. “Hi, Irene.” There was a pause, where he supposed his mom was expressing her discontent. By yelling. “Yeah, yeah, I know, but- Okay, I’ll take him home. I just- He’s my son too, you know.” He covered the receiver. “Magni, go wait outside.”

Magni hesitated. But he started to trudge towards the door. Slow enough that he could catch more of his parents’ conversation, at least on his dad’s end.

“No, listen to me. We can fix this,” his father was saying. “I know we can.”

He stopped, hand against the door handle. He wished he could hear his mom’s reply.

“You know what? Fine. We can pick this conversation up then.” Marcel slammed the phone back into the receiver.

Magni pushed the door open before his father could turn back and went outside. His dad would be back out any moment. But just a second, he shut his eyes and let the sun warm his face.

He didn’t feel broken.

At least, he thought he didn’t.

#alli writes shit #fictober24 #power payback #magni quinn #time to hit everyone's adolescent traumas

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da-millerrrrr · 3 months ago

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Short and hastily written ot1 deities fic

Clarissa had received a letter some days in advance, so his arrival was no surprise to her or Elena. The little girl had been told of him, but was clueless to the fact that he wanted so desperately to abandon her.

He had reached for the handle, but let his hand fall when a paralyzing fear struck. Poor little Elena had been through so much, she deserved a father who knew how to care for her.

No one went with him as everyone agreed this was something he must do alone. But in the treeline, a pair of yellow eyes shined in the darkness.

"Who goes there?" he called out.

With a sigh, a woman emerged with a large cat beside her. She stood taller than Osvald, with a great fur cape and glowing eyes that did not betray what she felt.

"You're a friend of Primrose, aren't you?" he asked.

She nodded before gesturing for him to follow her. They wandered aimlessly around the outskirts of Conning Creek while he waited for her to speak.

"Thou maken an mistake when thou choosen to run," she finally said.

"I wasn't going to leave," he lied, "I promised Clarissa I would be here tonight."

"I seen the look in thy eyes, how thee tremblen in fear when thou thinketh of facing an girl of ten," her tone was cold and scathing, "She needeth an father."

"I don't know how to raise a kid."

H'aanit did not need to speak for him to feel how much she hated him at that very moment. He was being an idiot, they both knew that.

"Canst thou huggen her? Canst thou pretenden thou caren about her? Art thou patient?" but she did not give him time to answer, "I haven followed thee long. Thou have not lost what one needs to be an father. Maketh mistakes, but by the gods, been there."

He wanted to die. Nothing could ever make him feel ready to face her, but there was no being ready. There was never the right time to reenter the life of someone who did not even remember his face.

"What if-"

"Thou willen do fine. Now go."

With a shaking breath, he turned to Clarissa's house. When he glanced back, H'aanit had dissappeared.

Maybe he would be fine.

When he knocked on the door, he heard a sound like a running down a flight of stairs before an adorable little face greeted him with a smile. He could not even greet her before she hugged him and dragged him inside to eat the food her and Clarissa had made.

GAHHH!!!! elena mentioned 10 dead 50 injured

sorry it took me so long to answer this, this is VERY nice and lovely. im eating well tonight thank you

#mav answers

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not--waving--drowning · 1 year ago

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ruined

and i will ruin this too

I've swallowed and swallowed my emotions like bitter pills. The bottles are mislabeled and the names were on the pills but i didn't bother to look before throwing them by the handful into my mouth.

I've wished for this to all be over so many times that i know for a fact wishing can't make it so

I've dreamed of death and woken up wondering how in the hell you follow your dreams when everyone else's seem to be primrose paths full of rainbows and stars and i wake up with tangled sheets and claw marks as reminders

I've been beaten, kicked and choked so many times that i mistook it for caring and told myself it was love and maybe the only love i truly deserve

I've been called complicated so many times of late that it should just be my name. Tattoo a big red flag on my forehead to warn everyone away before they even get close enough to find out. Why even let anyone near? Warning. Don't get within arms reach of this one.

I want to do better... to be better...but I don"t know how to be...less.

i don't know how to change my dreams

to stop looking for what's missing at the bottom of a bottle

to believe that violence isn't really the answer

to live in this world anymore

why even try, it's all ruined already

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shadowqueen402 · 1 year ago

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The Perfect Plan

(Here is the sequel to A "Perfect" Ending that I wrote. In this one, Reala gets the answers he needs and forms an unexpected alliance with someone. I hope you all like this fic. Let me know in the comments what you think!)

Now that Reala had learned where Madame Prim planned to drag Roy, he then decided to proceed in the next part of his plan; finding out more about that madwoman who ruined Timeville. He would have asked Aria, but due to what Prim had done to her, that was pretty much impossible. So he was left with no other option…but to ask one of Aria's friends.

It took Reala some time, but he was able to spot two of Aria's friends; Rebecca and…a man with blue hair. The two appeared to be hiding from someone. With a frown, Reala floated down behind them.

"Long time no see, Visitor," Reala chimed, grabbing Rebecca's attention. The bespectacled girl turned around, gasped, and backed away in fright.

"R-Reala?" Rebecca couldn't believe her eyes.

"You know this bloke?" The man asked her. He narrowed his eyes at the red jester suspiciously.

"Y-Yeah, Jett," Rebecca replied. "Reala is the bitter rival of NiGHTS, my friend. We both have a…bad history with him. It's a long story. But I want to know is why he's here."

"Is it wrong that I just wanted to see my girl?" Reala crossed his arms, his frown still there. "I came here to take Aria on a date only to see that Timeville isn't what it used to be. The Visitors aren't behaving like they used to… And Aria… She's now a shell of her former self…" Reala sounded rather bitter when he spoke the last bit.

Rebecca's fear from earlier faded away upon realizing what Reala was talking about. "It's Prim… She did that Aria. And Kaylo, Yuri, Dolly, and Misère too… She brainwashed them into being "perfect". She's even holding all of my friends hostage. And Mrs. Montgomery…"

"I'll cut to the chase; I plan to make Prim pay for what she's done to Aria," Reala revealed. "Since you know a lot about Prim, I need answers. What do you know about her?"

Rebecca and Jett looked at each other before turning their gazes back to the Nightmaren General. "Her real name is Primrose Gaillot," Rebecca explained. "She went under the alias Madame Prim. Before all of this happened, she used to be the headmistress of a boarding school for girls called Prim, Proper, and Perfection. That school was designed to make young girls learn how to be proper young ladies. But we later discovered that she was brainwashing the girls. She planned to make everyone in Timeville perfect."

"How did Prim find out about my girl's existence?" Reala asked.

"According to Aria, Prim wanted to marry Mr. Montgomery," Rebecca responded. "She even went so far as to crash her parents' wedding. Then, she tried to bribe her parents with a large amount of money to send Aria to her school. That was what caused them to move here. Up until now, they thought that they would be safe."

"But Prim had other ideas, didn't she?" Reala guessed correctly.

"Prim is not as dumb as we assumed," Rebecca warned. "During the time that we were trying to bring Kaylo and Yuri back to normal, we found a list of girls from all around the world that she tried to bring to PPP. We know that she's working with a mysterious ally. So there's no way that she did this all on her own."

"A mysterious ally?" Reala hummed in thought. "How did you suspect that?"

"Before Mrs. Bruno, Kaylo's mom, was imprisoned, she mentioned something called Project X." Rebecca said. "We don't know anything about this project, currently. But whoever this ally is chose to work with Prim for a reason." Rebecca lowered her gaze. "I wish I could tell you more, but that's all I know. I don't know where Prim is…"

"But I do." Reala's response caught both Jett and Rebecca off guard. "Let's just say eavesdropping definitely has its perks."

"Where is she?" Jett asked.

"She plans to drag Mr. Montgomery with her to a place called Tokyo, Japan," Reala replied. "She mentioned tracking down an unidentified man who's residing there."

"We have to save him!" Rebecca exclaimed. "And we have to stop Prim before she hurts this man! But we don't have a way to get to Tokyo!"

"Worry not, sheila," Jett said. "My powers will allow us to follow Prim and Roy without being spotted. They'll last us as long as I want. The important trick is to stay quiet."

Reala stared at Jett before nodding in agreement. "I will do what I must to save my Aria and her father."

"Let's go save everybody," Rebecca declared. She then turned to Jett. "We're ready, Jett."

Rebecca belongs to @thehyperrequiem

Jett belongs to @jettthespeeddemon

Aria belongs to me.

#balan wonderworld #ocs #fanfic #reala #nights journey of dreams

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pacifymebby · 1 year ago

Text

t r o u b l e / chapter twenty four

Sonya

I watched my brother slip into the shadows as he disappeared down the hallway with Kitty and Liam. I did my best to swallow down the knot of sorrow and fear that had tangled and lodged in my throat.

I'd held it together all night locked away in that little room. I'd managed to put my own helplessness on the back burner, kept up a smile for the littlens. Done my best not to let my Aunt Pol's shadowy gaze haunt me. Though it was all I could think of then as I stood in the dark of that early morning hallway watching the last of my family walk away from me. Forgetting for a moment that I wasn't alone.

Needless sacrifice. That's what Polly had spoken of. That was the answer the cards had given us when I'd asked them about Sylvie. Needless sacrifice, a rift between two halves. I swallowed down again. There were pinprick tears in my eyes.

"Sonya..." Bonnie's voice was soft, a little gravelly where the long night had worn him out, "c'mon darlin y'look like y'need y'bed."

I turned my head to him when I felt his cool fingers brush my arm. He'd reached out to draw me out of my apparent daydream only to be met with the gleam of fresh tears in my eyes. One look and he could tell the extent of my distress, the way my breath caught in my throat. The fragile way I suddenly felt but was doing my best to keep control over.

"They haven't found her..." I started, my fears confirmed when he shook his head, his eyes pooling with sympathy, a quiet understanding I wasn't used to seeing in the eyes of my brother's men.

"They will," he said, "she's left a trail but... you're tired sweetheart, look at ye you're fallin asleep on y'feet," he offered me an almost smile, something awkward in the way he reached for my hand and tugged me towards him. Something awkward in the way he looked down at me when he had me stood right in front of him, my chin tilted to the ground because I felt too close to look him in the eyes.

He didn't do anything then, just stood there uncertain, his hand held mine but that was it. We just stood still and quiet. He was looking down at me and I was looking down at my socks on waxed wooden floor.

When he looked up at the ceiling he let out a tired sigh. Yawned dramatically on purpose trying to draw a smile from me as he made a point of stretching his arms behind his head.

"C'mon girl," he said quieter even than before, his voice perhaps even more gentle than it had been when he'd first spoken that evening. His fingers linked loosely with mine, a gentle tug on my hand before he let them go. Waiting for me to follow him before he led me back to my bedroom.

In my room he stood by the window looking out at the dark garden. John had turned the floodlights off now and the lawn was shadowed once again, the only light coming from the moon and from a window downstairs where lamplight flickered through drawn curtains.

He reached for the tie to draw mine but my voice stopped him.

"Leave them open," I said quietly, forgetting my manners and wincing when I realised how entitled I'd sounded, "please?"

"Not plannin on sleepin?" He asked leaning in the window, his brow raised, his arms folded as he watched me quietly. I shook my head.

"It's not that I just, always sleep like that..."

"What even in London?" He screwed his face up, "Sonya lass that's mad..."

"No, honest it's nice... our flats near primrose hill so you don't get as much light pollution as you'd think and you can see the trees y'know," I said but Bonnie just smirked and shook his head. Left the curtains open and shunted the window up and open just enough to let the muted lull, the cool air from the garden in. It smelt sweet and autumnal, the first woody tones of a turning season. That was something you didn't get in London, even on Primrose Hill.

"No offense love," he said with a little chuckle, "but that's the saddest thing I've heard all day."

I watched him with a frown, stealing my eyes from him when I felt his on me, felt the amused smile on his lips burn humiliation into me.

"Yeah well," I stiffened, "sorry they don't let us live in tents at my school..." I said cooly, pulling the covers up over my shoulders and shutting my eyes, determined to ignore anything else he said as if he thought he was superior to me.

But if I'd been expecting some kind of sanctimonious lecture I didn't get one and when I heard him move from the window to Sylvie's bed and settle down without another word, I felt a tug of guilt on my heart strings. An anxiety that made it difficult to get to sleep.

We lay in silence for awhile, I wasn't sure if he was sleeping but I knew I couldn't.

My head was too noisy, my thoughts buzzing, tucking and weaving in and out of one another. Sylvia, my brother's, Bonnie, Aunt Pol and that strange dark look she'd given me, full of sympathy, full of warning. Full of knowing because she'd divined something I couldn't yet understand. Knew more about me than I knew myself.

I lay there for too long. Grew conscious of my back aching on the unfamiliar mattress, grew conscious of every blink, every twitch. Grew conscious of my hairs on my arms, on the back of my neck, the hair on my head beginning to itch against the pillow. I couldn't ignore the sensation of cotton brushing my skin. Couldn't tune out of the low crackling sound in my ear canal from being pressed against a pillow.

When I rolled over it all only got worse.

I listened for Bonnie's breathing. Tried to work out whether he was awake.

Even whispered his name once only to be met with silence. Whispered his name again ten minutes later just to be sure, only to be met with an unconscious mumble. He called me Floss and told me to go to sleep. Left me wondering who Floss was as the sun began to rise in the sky. As the milky orange glow washed the garden in a soupy ginger hue which stretched from the trees at the edge of the lawn up the long gravel drive. Touched everything with honeyed morning. Made it look sweet and sticky. Made the garden irresistible to my troubled mind.

So without really thinking I let myself slip from the bed to the floor. Feet touching quiet and gentle on the hardwood as I flickered over the floor to the bedroom door. Opened it quietly, not wanting to disturb the boy asleep in Sylvie's bed. Knowing he'd been up all night with my brother, knowing that looking after the spoiled brat Shelby was probably exhausting enough already, without her waking him up at 5am to go for a swim in the lake her brother had had made especially for her.

I'd been rude to him earlier and now I felt guilty. That's why I let him sleep. Why I snook away downstairs on my own, drifting through the house like a ghost.

The house had that strange early morning half lit, dreamlike quality to it so that as I wandered down the stairs and into the kitchen I felt as if I were only really half awake. As if there were still a part of me lying on my back in that bed upstairs holding Buttons to my chest, gazing at the ceiling wondering why Sylvie had left without saying a word.

I didn't like the way it left a numb weight in the tips of my fingers, how I felt the let down feeling wrap around my spine like a blanket, a kind of cotton wool dulled ache. It didn't hurt, it just felt strange. It just felt like there was something there, something extra.. or perhaps I was confused, perhaps it felt like something which had been there once, had now been taken away.

I opened the fridge and took a bottle of milk from the door, watched myself tilt it, watched my fingers leave a print in the condensation, watched as slowly it filled my cup. I used a match to light the stove and gazed down at the burner wistfully, playing with the dial to make the blue flame burn too hot to fast, the flames growing tall and licking at the side of the pan, only to twist the dial right back down, watch those same flames shrink away, grow timid and tiny.

"Shouldn't play with fire Fen," Polly's voice was a warm break to the quiet, something firmer to hold onto than the hiss of the burner and the simmering of my milk. When I turned around she was standing just behind me, watching my fingers twisting the dial back down to simmering.

I offered her a small smile and shrugged my shoulders but I didn't say a word. I knew she was smirking because I looked like my sister. Knew she was smirking because even when we were apart me and Sylvie would always be entwined one way or another, never quite able to untangle or escape the others shadow.

"Let me make that," she said nodding to the milk, "you're not a girl anymore love, that old recipe won't work the way it used to..." she said her voice laden with meaning, her eyes shadowy when they met mine so that I felt a kindling inside myself. Knew deep inside that she knew too many things I didn't. Too many things about me. "Sit down love."

It was funny how quickly I reverted to the girl I'd been aged five when my aunt Pol had sat up with me late at night brewing a remedy for the bad dreams which had haunted me ever since we'd buried my mother. Funny how I settled down, how I did as I was told.

"What're you putting in it?" I asked leaning forward on my hands to get a look at the chopping board in front of her where she was currently crushing something under the flat of a blade.

"Cardamom, ginger and black pepper,"

"Will it help me sleep?"

"It isn't sleep you need is it girl," she said softly, her voice gentle as she abandoned the wooden spoon in the pan and turned to me. She sat down opposite me then, leant forward in her chair at the table and took my hands in hers. Her hands were warm, her skin a little calloused around her finger joints and when she rubbed her palm slowly over my knuckles I felt a shiver of nostalgia grip me. Felt it reverberate down my spine and leave me with that hollow melancholy. I didn't know what to do with myself, just had to sit there with the feeling and hope that whatever she said next would be a comfort.

"You've been away too long Fen, both of you... should never have let Tommy send you away, should have kept you close after your mam... should have kept you here with the family..."

"We wanted to go Pol," I said quietly, chewing the inside of my cheek, struggling to hold her gaze and choosing to look down at her hands holding mine instead, "bein ballerinas was what we wanted to do... more than anything..."

"Didn't have to make it hurt so much though did we, coulda visited you..."

I didn't say anything then because I didn't want to show her how much it had really hurt. How much it hurt to hear someone say it now.

"Fen do you really think she's gone to Camden?" she asked then. I was acutely aware of the milk in the pan bubbling, acutely aware of the gas burners quiet hiss. I thought about my sister, about the secrets we'd shared with one another the night before she'd disappeared. About Alfie and what he'd said to me when he'd found me fighting my tears down by the lock. He'd wanted to talk to her. Perhaps she'd wanted to talk to him.

And then I thought about myself. Sylvie hadn't told me where she was going. Hadn't shared that secret with me. She must have known I wasn't capable. That of all us Shelbys I was the weak link, the one who didn't really fit. I'd betrayed the family once before already because I'd let my emotions, my desire cloud my mind. I was the emotional one, the one who couldn't be trusted. It was what Tommy thought, what all my brothers thought. Now it was what Sylvie thought too.

So I closed my eyes and ignored the tug in my chest which wanted me to tell the truth.

"I don't know Pol, what did the cards say..." I shrugged trying to dismiss them, feeling a guilt inside because I knew I couldn't.

"Those cards didn't have anything to say about Sylvie," she said letting out a small sigh before she let me go, patted my hands and turned back to the stove stirring the simmering liquid before pouring it into my cup. When she placed it down in front of me the milk was a pale gold shade and the steam which rose from it warmed my cheeks. She took a tea spoon of honey and stirred it in slowly and then she pushed it towards me with a softer smile.

"Sonya love," she started, knowing the answer to her question before she'd asked it, "are you late?"

"Wh..." I started, the tremble in my voice all it took to answer her question so that even when I shook my head and tried to lie she knew.

"Fuckin Sabini bastard," she murmured her hand reaching for mine, her sigh sympathetic when I shook my head.

"I'm not Pol, barely... a week at most but thats normal for me I..."

"Listen love, don't panic alright theres no use in panicking..." she started her voice steady and gentle, her wisdom trying to wrap me up in a comfort but it couldn't. There wasn't a shred of comfort I could take from the world if what she believed was really true...

"I'm not pregnant Pol, its not.. it isn't..." I said standing up sharply only for her to stand too, her tone changing, her whole demeanour changing so that suddenly she was that stern mothering figure from my childhood.

"Listen to me Fen," she said her hand on my arm, "sit down and drink your milk," she said lowering her voice again, she was trying very hard to be gentle and I knew I should have been grateful because had it been my brothers before me now they wouldn't have shown me the same forgiveness. "You need to be calm now love, you need to sit down, you need to drink your drink and then you need to talk to your Aunt Pol alright... ain't gonna work this one out by yourself, y'need your family... you need me."

And she was right, and I knew she was right. That didn't make it any easier to sit down and do as she said. Didn't make it any easier to hold my cup in my hands, steady my trembling fingers and take a sip of the sweet spicy drink.

"Now the ginger is for your immune system... your mam used to put that in your milk when you were young, the cardamom and the pepper, they're for your blood and the honey will keep you well,"

"Pol..." I tried to speak but my voice shook a little, an urgency stuck like a stone in my throat, my mind all stirred up, "Pol I can't be pregnant.."

"Have your drink Fen you'll feel better," she said nodding to the steaming mug once more, waiting for me to do as I was told. Watching me patiently, sympathy lingering behind her eyes.

"I can't be..." I said again desperately trying to work my cycle out in my head, trying to pin point the exact day to find a fault in it, to prove her wrong.

However, though it was true that I wasn't exactly regular, that some months I trained too hard and ground myself down too far that I didn't get a period at all, now that she'd said it, planted the thought, I couldn't shake the feeling. As if she'd simply stated something I already knew.

"I'm not," I said again, only really trying to convince myself, *I'm not Pol some months I don't even..."

"Fen, love what did I tell you eh, drink..." she nodded to the mug which was shaking with my hands, "settle down and then we'll talk... this isn't a disaster, there are things you can do."

But there was nothing to be done as far as I could think. I wasn't pregnant because I couldn't be, because if I was it would fuck with my already fucked up life even more. Because if I was it would be Freddie's child, a Sabini and if I wasn't already seen as the family traitor, I would be now.

So I shook my head and put the mug down, didn't finish my drink and didn't talk to her.

"I don't know where Sylvie is, she didn't trust me with her secrets anymore than the rest of you..." I said only stopping when I felt Polly's hand reach for mine, her fingers entwining with mine though not quite strong enough to hold on. "She knows what I'm like..."

"Just like your mother that's what you're like," murmured Polly, her voice only just loud enough to reach me. Her words freezing me for a second before I let out a long shaky breath, one I struggled to control.

🌸🦢🌸

The lake caught the morning sun with a warm glimmer, a slight sepia shade to the reeds which grew at the edge where the land sloped to the shore of silt and grass tufts.

I sat at the waters edge with my toes in the water, the slight breeze sending little ripples lapping at my feet in soft waves whilst I drew with my fingers in the silt.

Polly hadn't followed me outside and for that I was grateful. She might have thought that she was what I needed then, and maybe if I'd been kept close to the family all those years ago, she could have been. But I hadn't and she wasn't and the only thing I really needed just then was some quiet. A quiet place to sit and wallow in my melancholy. I didn't want her to tell me my problem could be fixed, didn't want her to swoop in and save me.

I just wanted to be left alone. To think about Sylvie, to try and work out where she'd gone, what kind of danger she might have put herself in. To think about Freddie... I hadn't heard from him since that evening when I'd left his flat in little Italy. Since I'd given him the cold shoulder trying not to show him the fear and the tears I was trying to swallow down. I regretted that now too. Being so cold. Turning my head away from him, not allowing him the opportunity to show me his innocence.

Perhaps if I'd stayed a little longer he'd have said something to prove he'd had nothing to do with the hit on Michael. That he wasn't like the rest of his family.

But he was, if I was being honest with myself he was just like the rest of his family. He'd been raised in a tight knit circle just like me. Kept closer than I had been by mine. Been working for his uncle since childhood, slowly climbing the ranks of trust. If he hadn't been like the rest of his family he wouldn't have owned the things he did, the fancy car, the expensive designer clothes. He wouldn't have been able to shower me in precious gifts, all the jewellery he'd given me, all the flowers and presents he'd left in my dressing room at the opera house... all of it was stained the same stain worn by everything my brothers had given me.

But just because he was the same as his family, the same as mine, that didn't mean he didn't love me. Tommy had done evil things before, John and Arthur too, even my aunt Pol had killed before, they all still loved me. So Freddie could too and I had to believe it was true. That he wouldn't betray me the way Tommy seemed so convinced he already had.

"S'a good job you're predictable miss gray..."

Bonnie's voice made me jump and when I flinched he dropped down to sit beside me in the dirt, his eyes flickering over the listless little lines I'd drawn in the silt.

"Haven't exactly got many places to choose from." I said looking up at him with a forced smile, trying not to look as torn up as I felt on the inside.

"Lucky for me eh, your brother woulda skinned me if he'd found ye before I did..."

And suddenly I realised I was being told off and I felt myself squirm with a familiar discomfort, feeling a little small, a little too much like I'd just been reminded which Shelby I was. The naive liability.

"Sorry," I said, "you were sleeping an I didn't wanna disturb you... me brothers kept you up all night."

"As sweet as that may be lass," he said with a wince, his cheeks a little rosy as if he were worried he was about to sound ungrateful, "I'd sacrifice me sleep to avoid the wrath of Tommy Shelby any day, maybe that's just me though eh," he added with a wink before using the tip of his trainer to flick a little water over my feet. His whole demeanor softening in an instant. "What about you though eh, you were up all night an all..."

"I'm used to getting up early," I shrugged, "used to get up before 5 some mornings so I could practice before school, technically this morning I had a lie in..."

"Y'know one of these days Sonya," he sighed leaning back in the grass with his hands behind his head, "you're gonna tell me somet that won't break me heart..." he said with a grin, his eyes lit up teasing me, coaxing a small smile from my lips, more than I'd expected from myself in that torn up state he'd found me in.

"Shut up," I smirked turning away from him, partially to hide the rosy stain on my own face, partially to look out at the lake instead, thinking that watching the ripples would calm me. Lull the unease inside me. The knot in my stomach which had been sitting there for days.

"I know you're worried about Sylvie lass," he said kicking his shoes off, one foot with the other and kicking them to the side, doing the same with his socks so that he too could dip his feet into the lake and feel the cool water on his skin. "She's with Isaiah though and honestly lass... from the looks of it, it's everyone else who should be scared..."

"What do you mean?" I asked inching myself closer to the water, feeling the chill on my ankles, a little relief from the strange numb feeling, the cloak of anxiety.

"I don't know if I'm really meant to tell..."

"You've started now," I cut him off a little more harshly than I'd meant to, "I'm not a child I'm sure I can stomach it..." I said, turning the cold up to ten, the ice in me shocking him so that for a second he was quiet. Had I turned around I'd have seen his smirk, small and impressed... but I didn't so I didn't see it and I carried on thinking that Bonnie saw me just the same as my brothers. Naive.

"eh, I know that lass..." he said with a soft chuckle which left my cheeks burning because I thought he was laughing at me again.

"You said she's left a trail..."

"Aye," he nodded. When I looked back at him his eyes were closed, his hands behind his head, the picture of tranquil. It didn't match the the words which left his lips. "Man who lives up the road from yous has been shot, killed actually... bikes been stolen..."

I didn't say anything though I felt like I had to. Felt like I had to say something just to show him I wasn't scared. That if I stayed silent the way I was, my brow knitted in the middle, he'd think I couldn't handle it, that I wasn't as brave as I'd just told him.

But I didn't know what to say to him.

"Been a break in about half an hour up the road too, someone's cars been had..."

"Sylvie stole a car?" I asked with a gasp, struggling to bite back my laugh, the thought totally astounding to me, my grin contagious because when I looked back at him he opened his eyes, saw my smile and started grinning himself.

"Y'know what with yous being twins I kind thought you might already know..." he said still smiling despite the sudden push in his serious eyes. Like he was waiting for me to confess something to him.

And for a moment I thought I might be about to but it was only when I realised I wouldn't be telling him what he thought he was going to here that I decided to bite my tongue.

Changed my mind again a few seconds later when we drifted into silence and his waiting smile faltered and faded away.

"Don't think I'm that kind of twin..." I said quietly, guilty edge to my voice which caught his attention, which had him propped up on his elbows, watching the back of my head as I spoke to the water and not to him.

"What dya mean?"

"Not like the rest of my family I don't know... all that Romani shit I don't have it..."

"Being close to your family ain't 'romani shit' to be fair lass..." he said with a small chuckle, "knowin your family's hardly exclusive to one set of people like..."

"Don't mean it like that," I said with a self aware smirk, realising I'd said another stupid thing, shown myself to be the uneducated, out of touch girl I really was, "I mean all of it, don't have any of that instinct Pols always talking about, I'm not like my brothers... an even Sylvies stopped telling me things hasn't she... cause I'm not guarded enough... I mean look at me right now, cryin in front of you again... too much like me mam and not enough like the rest of them... got the wrong blood in my veins..." I felt ever so tragic confessing to it all, voicing the suspicion only making it feel all the more real, all the more certain to me.

"Your mam was a traveller wasn't she?" He frowned.

"Well yeah," I said sucking my cheek in, biting until I felt blood, wincing when the taste hit. "Not Romani though an..."

"You're givin a lotta weight to somet you were throwin around as an insult two days ago lass," he said with a grin, definitely laughing at me, gentle though, gentle enough that it didn't really hurt to be laughed at.

"Told you I was sorry for that..." I said quietly, fingers drawing in the dirt as I felt myself growing more selfconcious by the second. The truth that I shouldn't have shown him so much of myself so soon dawning on me. Making me wish I could run and hide again.

The gentle smile he offered when he sat up, hugged his knees to his chest beside me, knocking my foot in the water again, his smirk contagious.

"Ain't necessarily a bad thing not bein like your big brothers y'know... I wouldn't want me sister's to be too much like me."

"Sylvies my twin though..."

"Well no offense lass but if Sylvies just like your brothers, am glad it's you am stuck with." He knocked my arm with his elbow, his smile lighting his eyes up, lighting mine up too so that for a minute I felt lighter. Didn't feel quite so pathetic when I sniffled and dried my eyes on the sleeve of John's pyjama top.

"Glad I'm stuck with you an not Isaiah if I'm being honest..." I said with a smirk, a little flush to my cheeks when he laughed and told me he'd be telling him that.

"Oh," he said suddenly, reaching into his jacket pocket to present me with a flask, "Pol gave me this, said you forgot it..."

@jomarch-wannabe @zablife

@elina-777 @call-sign-shark

@zablife @everysage

@itsghostgirlyo

@marwwfairy

@toddlerbodybag

#peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders oc #trouble

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cordeliaflyte · 2 years ago

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Answer 1: "Say something loving and sweet to her."

Answer 2: "Say that you are looking forward to spending some time with her. Be genial."

Answer 3: "Comment upon the weather," I murmur, knowing that Frankincense must surely desire a word of affection from Rory.

Answer 4: "Er…um…that is…" My mouth is suddenly very dry.

#tally ho

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petruchio · 2 years ago

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violet primrose daisy!!

violet— do you like to cook or bake? if so, what is it that you like to make?

you know, i do really like cooking but recently i've lost some of my interest in it. not because i don't like it but just because i've been busier and busier and sometimes it's easier not to have to cook or to just make something quickly. but when i do cook my favorite thing to cook is any kind of dinner with tons of vegetables. i love a big vegetable pasta with like zucchini and mushrooms and sun dried tomatoes and caramelized onions that is one of my favorite dishes. and i like baking in concept but i honestly never really do it.

primrose answered <3

daisy— what is your idea of the perfect date?

HMMMM. it really depends on the stage but i'll say my perfect first date is one where you just grab a casual drink at a nice place that has like a good vibe, and you start talking and the conversation flows really naturally and before you know it an hour has passed, and you have something scheduled afterwards so you have to leave (so that it ends naturally) but you actually don't *want* to leave because you want to keep hanging out with them, so when they text you the next day asking for a second date you're like, over the moon!

my ideal date for anything after the first few dates (like when you actually know you really like them) is to go for a walk. any kind of walk, like a walk where they show you around their part of town or you show them around yours, or a walk where you meet in a park and look at the trees, or even just a coffee date that turns into a long walk around the area. i LOVE a walk. it's my favorite way of spending time with people.

#answered #joysmercer

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lyn-rambles · 2 years ago

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To reach what once was there

To hold what once was there series: Part I

Pairing: Skyrose (Luke Skywalker x Primrose Lutto)

Summary: Initiates learn from their masters, and sometimes masters learn from initiates. After Grogu's parting, Luke has a moment of solititude and reflection, he might have messed up big time.

Word count: 2.7 K

Warnings: Angst but has a fluffy ending, mentions of break ups, Macondo wants Luke's head on a spike, Canon complainant, Mandalorian and Book of Boba Fett Spoilers, I haven't seen both but I know the enough Spoilers to write this, not proof read we die like men.

The weather seemed to laugh at his face. He sat under the tree he used to meditate, and sighed opening his blue sky eyes. He had grown used to be alone, building the new Jedi School was going smoothly as it could thanks to the droid's, but it had never felt so lonely.

He closed his eyes again and tried to empty his mind, inhaling deeply. Abandon all what surrounded him, to reach within and…

He chose the attachment.

He gasped, this was going to be harder,so much harder. He stretched and let his back hit the soft grass, the sunlight swept through the branches down to his face and golden hair.

"I can't blame him." Luke whispered to himself. He had done the same twice, none of them had come without a price but both had taught him a lesson. R2 had arrived back without many issues, even it had not pressed the issue. Luke had failed in keeping his very first student, and that made him sigh again. He closed his eyes again, letting the sun warm his body, so different to Tattoine's sun that scorched everything that it touched, but it was so much more similar to the soft caress of her calloused hand.

Luke shot his eyes open. He breathed heavily, he hadn't thought about Prim in a while or maybe he had forced him to look away from the thought of her.

"So you are breaking up with me?" The way like her voice sounded only worsened the ache of his heart but he had to stand firm.

Her workshop seemed less cluttered and more of her style of messy.

"Yes," he swallowed the knot on his throat. "It's not that-"

"It is a Jedi thing?" She interrupted him. She had braced her arms like she used to do on Hoth. He did not answer, for he feared he might break, even now she was being understanding, he wanted her to lash out at him, to tell him to fuck off, but she didn't. Luke could feel the fear the astonishment, pain, sadness, but not anger. Why wasn't she mad at him?

He frowned, and stood up to change places to meditate, maybe that would help him to change his set of mind.

He repeated all the steps and was met again with the block, what was worst, the same tingle when he wanted to say goodbye for the last time as he had hoped.

"I shouldn't," Her voice was beginning to break. She had turned her face instead of meeting his lips. "I don't want to make this harder."

He swallowed, there was the same tingle on the Force. He had heard the stifled sobs behind the door, he wanted to enter and take all what he said back, but he continued his way back to the X-wing, his chest to tight to breath, and even to keep watching the whole planet hurt; his eyes stung, maybe the bright light had caused it. At least he did not had a reason to go back to Tatooine, until Grogu had chosen.

He hunched over, confused, his own mind too clouded to part the ways on his own. The birds chirped around him, a couple flew around trying to peck each other like they where playing. He returned his gaze to the silky grass, if he couldn't find answers on his own then maybe he could figure them out with someone else.

"Father, I need counsel" Which was very weird. The only time he had spoke to him in life was just before he died.

"And in which way could I help you?" His voice was different from the one that came from his suit, it was… boyish in a surprisingly mature way.

"There is something that has been clouding my judgement." He met his gaze to a pair of eyes that looked just like his. "My first student left, following a bond he had with the Mandalorian, and it is giving me second thoughts about…" He trailed off, how hard could it be to tell your dead father about an ex-girlfriend? Surely a situation that he didn't thought he could get into, yet again, he had thought he would stay with Primrose, his stars.

"Why is it that your thoughts trail down to someone?" He wasn't teasing him, he was genuinely concerned as he sat in a more relaxed way, maybe to assure him that he could tell him anything. "Someone dear to you perhaps?"

"Yeah, she is." Luke whispered, his lips curving into a smile, as he looked down to the grass, not that he had a faint pink color on his cheeks.

"Well, well," now he was teasing him. "it's seem that she's more than dear to you." Now he chuckled. "You need ideas on how to propose?"

That made Luke's smile falter. "I don't think that would be possible." He said, sadness washed over his tone.

That made Anakin look at him perplexed. "I am sorry."

"Don't be," Luke moved his head side to side. "It's just that, " He couldn't look at him, for reasons. "I broke up with her a while ago, and Grogu's parting left me thinking."

"About..?"

"My decision," He gave a shaky breath. "I broke up with her because Jedis aren't allowed to have attachments, and I couldn't risk her to the consequences of it."

Anakin could visualize with a plethora of details what would the Council say and what would his Master would have told him to say, and even the scolding he would probably get if they were alive, and still decided to go with what he would have done.

"You are the only Jedi here, right?" His son looked at him puzzled, he had the same expression that Padmé would have done.

"Yes, but-"

"That makes this," he motioned the bamboo away and showed the construction site. "The new Jedi Order?"

"Yes."

"So you have the opportunity to make things right for all of us?" He finally asked. Then a new sense of embarrassment washed over him, it seemed like an obvious conclusion and he knew it, but still felt somehow wrong to betray the old teachings.

"Hey," His ghost had walked next to him and his hand was placed over his shoulder. It was comforting even if he did not touched him. "It might seem obvious, but you were trusted with a burden greater than than you," he took a pause. "Sharing our burdens, not only strengthen our bonds," he smiled at him. "It also connects us deeper to the Force… "

"Because it makes us empathic?"

"Attaboy, " Luke smiled at him. "Any idea of the next step? "

He nodded and jogged off to get R2. Anakin sighed, this was going to end up in trouble for him as Obi-Wan approached him.

"Master, please, my son-"

"Needed his father," Obi gave him a wrinkled smile. "and your advice was better than any other could have given." They heard the X-wing take flight before they faded again.

He landed in the outskirts of Mos Eisley, it was just a go and get the talk, maybe ask for forgiveness? And if everything went as he hoped then…

He sighed as he entered the shop the gentle tingle of the bell alerted the yellow twi'lek, he looked no older than 7, he sat on a tall stool, coloring a book over the counter.

"Welcome!" He greeted. "My dad will be here in a minute."

He nodded. Dad? Had Primrose went over him and married someone else? She could easily have, they haven't seen each other in two years and anyone would be lucky to have her. He feared for the in coming steps until he saw her brother… Macondo. He dropped the wrench on his hand, his eyes wide open and mouth gaping, and then his expression turned to anger, his knuckles turned white. He could sense the warning on the Force.

"Fes'kika," Luke knew that he wanted to speak gently. "Go to the back, and do not come out until I say so."

The kid felt the anger on his father's words, but it wasn't directed at him, but to the man clad in the black robes, and ran inside.

"With what right do you show your face here, Skywalker?" He growled, he stomped his way to him. "WITH WHAT RIGHT DO YOU COME HERE, HUH?" He yanked him from the collar of his shirt getting him down.

"I came here to apologize" His voice was sure and calm, that made Maco madder.

"APOLOGIZE!?" He shaked him. "APOLOGIZE AFTER TWO YEARS?!" He tried to push him to the ground but he only managed to make Luke stamer twice.

"Listen, Maco, I-"

"I DON'T CARE!" He balled his fists again. "I don't care, that you suddenly felt bad about it, or that in some weird Jedi shit you came you came to your senses," He was shaking. "or that you need help because some bounty hunter took Jabba's kriffing place." He swallowed, trying to calm himself, but Luke knew that he still wanted to bash his brains out.

"You have already caused enough damage with your little Jedi Code." Of course he knew. "She doesn't need to have your sorry ass here or anywhere around her."

Luke swallowed, after all he had hurt her, beyond anything that they had endured. Maco was right, how did he dared to even pull this stunt, when he had purposely shut everything that could remotely remind him of Primrose to stop the ache of his heart and mind; he still had to try and mend it.

"Maco, listen," he pleaded, and that took the other youngman off guard. "I-I know I messed up big time, and that 2 years of no contact do not say great things if me and-and… I-I have to atone for it."

Now Maco gaped again, too torned between hating every last hair of him and truly feeling sorry for him, he knew he wanted to punch him and he deserved it, but he also wanted to be spiteful and make him figure his shit on his own, but also for her sake… he took a breath.

"Why?" He asked. "Why now, Skywalker?"

"Because, someone less experienced than me, and much better reminded me of a lesson I learned a long time ago."

Maco turned his back to him and crossed his arms, his grease stained tank top facing him.

"I know you are there, small fry." He called onto the counter and he could see the yellow forehead peaking from there.

"How much did you hear?"

"All of it." Both men turned to see Primrose, she carried a Republic crate behind her and a full backpack.

Primrose wasn't used to have dinners that turned this disastrous, she barely touched her plate, Maco sometimes looked at her with compassion, like he felt sorry about the show he gave, and other's he looked at Luke like wanted him to choke on his fork.

Fes'kika wanted to know everything about Prim's latest mission, as she sometimes answered with monosyllables or just nodded at him. She couldn't help but to stare at Luke, she should be mad, she knew she should have kicked him out, but she couldn't her heart was pounding fast like she was the 20 year old that had just stolen his first kiss, but it also hurted like Bobba's blaster all over again, she felt her heart strings ripping out again as he walked out the door from the workshop. She knew she would heal eventually, but she would not be able to if she appeared from nowhere like today.

Luke did not even touch his food as he looked at her words tied on his throat,he had to think away to do this.

"I'm afraid you'll have to pardon me," She spoke. "I am not hungry anymore." No one said anything, as she saved her plate and walked to her room. The kid looked disappointed, but did not voiced it. The tension did not eased there.

Prim sat on her desk, and took out the box, she hadn't had the heart to let go of the trinkets that Luke had gifted her, they weren't many, but most held a significant value. She sighed tracing the edges of one of his rarest gifts, an uncolored kyber crystal, she remembered vividly that day. He had been trying to hoard all the information he could get about the crystals and Saber construction when he had jumped out of that X-wing, and ran to the other hangars just to show her his finding.

Maco knocked making her save her things fast. "Come in"

He swept through the door, and walked with a stool under his arm, he was still mad at Luke but he wasn't actually going to let him freeze to death.

"I can take them to him." She offered, if Luke was there, they had a long due talk to have.

"And I don't want you to rub salt over your wounds." retorted Maco.

"And I don't want you to get too worked up over them." She sighed. "I just want clearance."

Maco couldn't held her gaze, a long time has happened since she needed his actual protection. "If he dares to even do something…"

"Please don't punch him" that made them laugh. He placed the blankets over her arms and she walked to Luke's room.

"Good Luck, Prim." He thought before going to tuck Fes in.

Luke opened the door to be greeted by Prim, she stepped in the warm lit room. This used to be her brothers' shared room, but it had become the visit's room. It wasn't decorated, just plain white walls and a desk they hadn't been able to move, besides a bed.

They didn't talk much as she helped him to do the bed, but there were some stolen glances that Luke couldn't ignore, he had to make things right.

"How have you been doing?" He said sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Trying to get by, working for the New Republic and such." She forced a smile. "and you?"

"Trying to get by too," he sighed. "My first student left the academy."

She turned her head at him shocked, she looked concerned and that only made him even more embarrassed at himself.

"Why?" She asked she had scooted maybe half a centimeter closer and to him it meant the world.

"He had a better judgment than me about the attachment rule." He sighed defeated.

"That means..?" She was interested that was good, he might still have a chance.

"That I wanted to apologize," He turned to face her. "I messed up big time, I broke up with you thinking that…" He inhaled. "it would endanger you if I was ever put to test again, like…" He trailed of but he saw her gaze over his prosthetic hand. "And I was scared to find what length would I go to save anyone, specially you."

So he was scared of becoming like his father, Maco was right, he deserved the punching.

"I did wanted you to know that even after all this time," he swallowed. "I still love you, with my mind, soul and heart."

"Why are you telling me this?" that question was harsher than it should be. "Why do you come here and try to make me forgive you?" He stayed silent, because she immediately continued. "Why do you come here looking like you lost something, or like you have lost your way through life, and ask for forgiveness for something I was never angry to begin with?" OK her voice began to crack this was bad. "Why do you come an tell the same words you used after you came back?" She inhaled shaking. "Why?" and then she sobbed. Luke did not knew if it was his place to comfort her as he did, but he still held her gently to his chest.

"Because I wronged you," he sighed rubbing her back. "because I hurt you for the exact same reason the Old Order failed, I interpreted the scriptures so literally that I drove everyone away." He sighed. "Because I came back from the horrible path I was placing myself into." She hugged him back, she was still crying but she could still see his hurting.

"You are an idiot." He wanted to laugh. "An idiot I love against my better judgment."

#self shipping #self ship #self insert x canon #luke skywalker x primrose lutto #luke skywalker x si #skyrose #F/O: Luke Skywalker #luke skywalker #star wars selfship #star wars self insert

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viridiave · 25 days ago

Note

6, 18, 19 for the fic writer asks!

Yo Jae!!! Hi I'm renaming 15 million files at once rn software is amazing fr

6 - the word that appears the most in your current draft

oh my god I forgot that's what my screenshot folder looked like now. anyway. This is about what I expected for something that's about to break 10k words, I'm surprised Derryl and Hubie tied for name mentions there

spoilers for Primrose appearing in the next chapter of TV I guess

18 - if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic I'll do it one better - here's part of a scene that I had to cut out for the sake of the Intermission not getting bloated, you've seen this one before but I lost the other deleted lines rip:

- I will be frank with thee. Thou art a Crossford. Thou beareth blood most cursed... infected by the accurst flames of our sibling. It is a wonder to me that thou art alive – and that thou art allowed to live. Tellen me, what possessed thee to show thineself to someone of mine like?

<Kit>

- ... I was hoping that you would have some answers for me. I don't want this blood.

- Thou art asking for the impossible. So long as the Gate exists, so must the keys that keep it shut.

<Kit>

- Why keep around a key to a door you'd rather never open again?

- So that we may pray that we never have the need to make another. A key is never the only way to pryen open a lock sealed, but the key must keepen it sealed nevertheless. The fate that was dealt to thee... it is a heavy burden indeed. Thine position is not enviable in the slightest.

- The most that we Gods can do for the Crossfords is grant them strength.

- Thou art displeased.

<Kit>

- I-I'm sorry.

- Thou owest me no apologies.

<Kit>

- ... I'm just tired. I didn't ask for any of this. I just wanted my father back, but now I'm here talking to a God who can't help me. Some part of me wants to disappear, but that would mean betraying my father's last wish.

- Tell me, is there really no way out...?

- ...None. None that we Gods know of. And I will not disgrace thee with feeble hope – the Gate cannot be destroyed. The world is in need of thee yet.

>> now this one I had to cut because 1) it's redundant and its point was to just hammer in Kit's hopelessness about his situation and 2) I have no fucking clue where this would fit in the timeline

19 - the most interesting topic you've searched for a fic

This one, I didn't publish - but while I was writing this one Glitchtale fanfiction called Aurum: Latibule, that one was about what was at the time known as the Scorned Vigilants. It took place after its original run ended, which was probably why I never ended up publishing it anywhere other than the Glitchtale server. I ended up doing a lot of research into ancient and medieval medicine. It didn't even end up playing a big part into the story because it's not really the POINT, but the other reason I couldn't integrate any of it was because SO MUCH OF IT INVOLVED PISS. THE YEAR WAS 1200 BY THE WAY. PLINY THE ELDER HAD TOO MANY PISS CURES

on the other hand bloodletting was also a popular way of curing illnesses at the time. I'm trying to get to a point where I can use it as a punchline for a joke again but Orsterra is in the year 1600 and better medicines exist now

#ask game #these polygons are killing me

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and-then-there-were-n0ne · 10 months ago

Text

Insects were the first domesticators

The sunflower, Helianthus annuus, is a North American plant whose wild form looks like an aster or large daisy. Cultivated sunflowers today have been domesticated to the point where their flowers are the size of a dinner plate. 'Mammoth' sunflowers, originally bred in Russia, are 12 to 17 feet high, the head diameter is close to one foot, which is more than ten times the size of a wild sunflower's disc, and there is normally only one head per plant, instead of the many, much smaller, flowers of the wild plant. The Russians started breeding this American flower, by the way, for religious reasons. During Lent and Advent, the use of oil in cooking was banned by the Orthodox Church. Conveniently, and for a reason that I - untutored in the profundities of theology - shall not presume to fathom, sunflower seed oil was deemed to be exempt from this prohibition. This provided one of the economic pressures that drove the recent selective breeding of the sunflower. Long before the modern era, however, native Americans had been cultivating these nutritious and spectacular flowers for food, for dyes and for decoration, and they achieved results intermediate between the wild sunflower and the extravagant extremes of modern cultivars. But before that again, sunflowers, like all brightly coloured flowers, owed their very existence to selective breeding by insects. The same is true of most of the flowers we are aware of - probably all the flowers that are coloured anything other than green and whose smell is anything more than just vaguely plant-like. Not all the work was done by insects - for some flowers the pollinators that did the initial selective breeding were hummingbirds, bats, even frogs - but the principle is the same. Garden flowers have been further enhanced by us, but the wild flowers with which we started only caught our attention in the first place because insects and other selective agents had been there before us. Generations of ancestral flowers were chosen by generations of ancestral insects or hummingbirds or other natural pollinators. [...]

Here's the background. For reasons I won't go into now, it is of the essence of sexual reproduction that you shouldn't fertilize yourself. If you did that, after all, there'd be little point in bothering with sexual reproduction in the first place. Pollen must somehow be transported from one plant to another. Hermaphroditic plants that have male and female parts within one flower often go to elaborate lengths to stop the male half from fertilizing the female half. Darwin himself studied the ingenious way this is achieved in primroses. Taking the need for cross-fertilization as a given, how do flowers achieve the feat of moving pollen across the physical gap that separates them from other flowers of the same species? The obvious way is by the wind, and plenty of plants use it. Pollen is a fine, light powder. If you release enough of it on a breezy day, one or two grains may have the luck to land on the right spot in a flower of the right species. But wind pollination is wasteful. A huge surplus of pollen needs to be manufactured, as hay fever sufferers know. The vast majority of pollen grains land somewhere other than where they should, and all that energy and costly material is wasted. There is a more direct way for pollen to be targeted. [...]

So if only there were some way to persuade an animal to dust itself with pollen and then walk or preferably fly to another plant of the right species... Well, the answer's no secret: that's exactly what happens. The story is in some cases highly complex and in all cases fascinating. Many flowers use a bribe of food, usually nectar. Maybe bribe is too loaded a word. Would you prefer 'payment for services rendered'? I'm happy with both, so long as we don't misunderstand them in a human way. Nectar is sugary syrup, and it is manufactured by plants specifically and only for paying, and fuelling, bees, butterflies, hummingbirds, bats and other hired transport. It is costly to make, funnelling off a proportion of the sunshine energy trapped by the leaves, the solar panels of the plant. From the point of view of the bees and hummingbirds, it is high-energy aviation fuel. The energy locked up in the sugars of nectar could have been used elsewhere in the economy of the plant, perhaps to make roots, or to fill the underground storage magazines that we call tubers, bulbs and corms, or even to make huge quantities of pollen for broadcasting to the four winds. Evidently, for a large number of plant species, the trade-off works out in favour of paying insects and birds for their wings, and fuelling their flight muscles with sugar. It's not a totally overwhelming advantage, however, because some plants do use wind pollination, presumably because details of their economic circumstances tip their balance that way.

Plants have an energy economy and, as with any economy, trade-offs may favour different options under different circumstances. That's an important lesson in evolution, by the way. Different species do things in different ways, and we often won't understand the differences until we have examined the whole economy of the species.

If wind pollination is at one end of a continuum of cross-fertilization techniques - shall we call it the profligate end? - what is at the other end, the 'magic bullet' end? Very few insects can be relied upon to fly like a magic bullet straight from the flower where they have picked up pollen to another flower of exactly the right species. Some just go to any old flower, or possibly any flower of the right colour, and it is still a matter of luck whether it happens to be the same species as the flower that has just paid it in nectar. Nevertheless, there are some lovely examples of flowers that lie far out towards the magic bullet end of the continuum. High on the list are orchids, and it's no wonder that Darwin devoted a whole book to them.

Both Darwin and his co-discoverer of natural selection, Wallace, called attention to an amazing orchid from Madagascar, Angraecum sesquipedale (see colour page 4), and both men made the same remarkable prediction, which was later triumphantly vindicated. This orchid has tubular nectaries that reach down more than 11 inches by Darwin's own ruler. That's nearly 30 centimetres. A related species, Angraecum longicalcar, has nectar-bearing spurs that are even longer, up to 40 centimetres (more than 15 inches). Darwin, purely on the strength of A. sesquipedale's existence in Madagascar, predicted in his orchid book of 1862 that there must be 'moths capable of extension to a length of between ten and eleven inches'. Wallace, five years later (it isn't clear whether he had read Darwin's book) mentioned several moths whose probosces were nearly long enough to meet the case.

In 1903, after Darwin's death but well within Wallace's long lifetime, a hitherto unknown moth was discovered which turned out to fulfil the Darwin/Wallace prediction, and was duly honoured with the sub-specific name praedicta. But even Xanthopan morgani praedicta, 'Darwin's hawk moth', is not sufficiently well endowed to pollinate A. longicalcar, and the existence of this flower encourages us to suspect the existence of an even longer-tongued moth, with the same confidence as Wallace invoked the predicted discovery of the planet Neptune. [...]

Insects have good colour vision, but their whole spectrum is shifted towards the ultraviolet and away from the red. Like us, they see yellow, green, blue and violet. Unlike us, however, they also see well into the ultraviolet range; and they don't see red, at 'our' end of the spectrum. If you have a red tubular flower in your garden it is a good bet, though not a certain prediction, that in the wild it is pollinated not by insects but by birds, who see well at the red end of the spectrum - perhaps hummingbirds if it is a New World plant, or sunbirds if an Old World plant. Flowers that look plain to us may actually be lavishly decorated with spots or stripes for the benefit of insects, ornamentation that we can't see because we are blind to ultraviolet. Many flowers guide bees in to land by little runway markings, painted on the flower in ultraviolet pigments, which the human eye can't see.

The evening primrose (Oenothera) looks yellow to us. But a photograph taken through an ultraviolet filter shows a pattern for the benefit of bees, which we can't see with normal vision (see colour page 5). In the photograph it appears as red, but that is a 'false colour': an arbitrary choice by the photographic process. It doesn't mean that bees would see it as red. Nobody knows how ultraviolet (or yellow or any other colour) looks to a bee (I don't even know how red looks to you - an old philosophical chestnut). [...]

Hummingbirds and sunbirds are not particularly closely related, by the way. They look and behave like each other because they have converged upon the same way of life, largely revolving around flowers and nectar (although they eat insects as well as nectar). They have long beaks for probing nectaries, extended by even longer tongues. Sunbirds are less accomplished hoverers than hummingbirds, who can even go backwards like a helicopter. Also convergent, although from a far distant vantage point in the animal kingdom, are the hummingbird hawk moths, again consummate hoverers with spectacularly long tongues (all three types of nectar junkie are illustrated on colour page 5).

We shall return to convergent evolution later in the book, after properly understanding natural selection. Here, in this chapter, flowers are seducing us, drawing us in, step by step, lining our path to that understanding. Hummingbird eyes, hawk-moth eyes, butterfly eyes, hoverfly eyes, bee eyes are critically cast over wild flowers, generation after generation, shaping them, colouring them, swelling them, patterning and stippling them, in almost exactly the same way as human eyes later did with our garden varieties; and with dogs, cows, cabbages and corn.

For the flower, insect pollination represents a huge advance in economy over the wasteful scattergun of wind pollination. Even if a bee visits flowers indiscriminately, lurching promiscuously from buttercup to cornflower, from poppy to celandine, a pollen grain clinging to its hairy abdomen has a much greater chance of hitting the right target - a second flower of the same species - than it would have if scattered on the wind. Slightly better would be a bee with a preference for a particular colour, say blue. Or a bee that, while not having any long-term colour preference, tends to form colour habits, so that it chooses colours in runs. Better still would be an insect that visits flowers of only one species. And there are flowers, like the Madagascar orchid that inspired the Darwin/Wallace prediction, whose nectar is available only to certain insects that specialize in that kind of flower and benefit from their monopoly over it. Those Madagascar moths are the ultimate magic bullets. From a moth's point of view, flowers that reliably provide nectar are like docile, productive milch cows. From the flowers' point of view, moths that reliably transport their pollen to other flowers of the same species are like a well-paid Federal Express service, or like well-trained homing pigeons. Each side could be said to have domesticated the other, selectively breeding them to do a better job than they previously did. Human breeders of prize roses have had almost exactly the same kinds of effects on flowers as insects have - just exaggerated them a bit. I[...] Incidentally, it is a fortunate coincidence that the fragrances that bees and butterflies prefer happen to appeal to us too. Flowers such as 'stinking Benjamin' (Trillium erectum) or the 'corpse flower' (Amorphophallus titanum), which use flesh flies or carrion beetles as pollinators, often nauseate us, because they mimic the smell of decaying meat. Such flowers have not, I presume, had their scents enhanced by human domesticators.

Of course, the relationship between insects and flowers is a two-way street, and we mustn't neglect to look in both directions. Insects may 'breed' flowers to be more beautiful, but not because they enjoy the beauty. Rather, the flowers benefit from being perceived as attractive by insects. The insects, by choosing the most attractive flowers to visit, inadvertently 'breed for' floral beauty. At the same time, the flowers are breeding the insects for pollination ability. Then again, I have implied that insects breed flowers for high nectar yield, like dairymen breeding massively uddered Friesians. But it is in the flowers' interests to ration their nectar. Satiate an insect and it has no incentive to go on and look for a second flower - bad news for the first flower, for which the second visit, the pollinating visit, is the whole point of the exercise. From the flowers' point of view, a delicate balance must be struck between providing too much nectar (no visit to a second flower) and too little (no incentive to visit the first flower).

Insects have milked flowers for their nectar, and bred them for increased yield - probably encountering resistance from the flowers, as we have just seen.

— Richard Dawkins, The Greatest Show on Earth

#richard dawkins #the greatest show on earth

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