#happily we do not provide company with full and complete explanations!

[elainemorisi]

if it's not immediately obvious that the hobby is a kink it's totally tasteful to give it space in the literal entryway of one's house right :|

[txtniipped]

ode to flower and cloud

genshin impact -- childe/zhongli, childe & venti, venti & traveler, traveler & paimon, paimon & venti

(2680 words)

ao3 version

With the Windblume Festival in full swing, love is in the air. Who better to teach the art of waxing poetry than the Windborne Bard and his two faithful assistants?

Though… tutoring the Fatui’s Eleventh Harbinger on such a topic was not something the three of them were expecting to be doing.

“Well, now that all that’s settled, we have some time to waste until their two hours are up,” Venti says as he turns towards the Traveler and Paimon, a grin blooming across his face. “Let’s go get a drink, shall we?”

The Traveler smiles awkwardly at the bard as they begin their march from under the city’s Barbatos statue to Angel’s Share, Paimon huffing indignantly as she floats along. “You know they don’t drink, bard! You only suggested it because you don’t know how to do anything else!”

Venti laughs, jovial and completely lacking any shame, which only further riles up Paimon. “So? A good drink always tastes better in good company! You can get grape juice or something.” The bard hops down the steps, two at a time, the traveler following in suit as to not be left behind. “Besides—” Venti pauses near the bottom of the staircase, turning himself back towards his companions, gazing cheekily up at them— “what else are you going to do while we wait to check up on our students? Those commissions no one has posted since the festival began?”

Paimon’s cheeks puff, her little hands balling into fists. “You—!!”

“Ahaha, there you are! Figures I’d find you two mixed up in the sprite’s shenanigans.”

Venti’s cheekiness drops the moment he hears that laugh, a thin smile taking its place as he turns to the presence at the bottom of the staircase. The Traveler’s attention snaps to the Harbinger below just as quickly as Paimon’s, who gasps loud enough for them both. “Childe?!”

“Hey!” The Harbinger greets the three of them with a wave, his smile genuine as far as any of them can tell.

“I thought the shame of losing our little contest would have driven you back home by now!” Venti lilts, bounding down the rest of the steps to land in Childe’s space, that forced smile still plastered on his face.

“Ahh, no, see—” Childe grins at Venti, a little too toothy, this smile much more fitting with the dangerous man the Traveler and Paimon now know him as— “a loss leads to more practice, and more practice leads to more polish, and more polish always warrants another go.”

Venti levels the Snezhnayan with an unimpressed stare. “So you’re here for a rematch,” he states.

Childe laughs, pleasant and warm, the epitome of friendliness. It’s so easy to be drawn into that sound if you know little of the man.

“Not yet! Rather, I heard you’re offering the masses lessons in poetry?”

The question catches both the Traveler and Paimon off guard, and if the silence between the four of them singing louder than any cricket is capable of is anything to go by, it’s surprised Venti too.

“You actually, uh...” Paimon starts after a beat, fidgeting her hands as she speaks, “just missed—.“ 

The sudden clap of Venti’s hands coming together cuts the fairy-creature off, his tone much more amicable than it just was. “I am! And these two are my assistants!” Venti gestures over to the Traveler and Paimon, who have now finally joined the other two at the bottom of the stairs. “You did actually just miss our assignment period though,” the bard stresses, offering a pitying expression that clearly irks the Harbinger. Paimon saw his fist curl.

Childe laughs mutedly, lifting said fist to his torso, casually smoothing it out over the front of his uniform. “That’s... unfortunate.”

“But!” Venti chimes, switching his demeanor in a heartbeat, leaning forward enough to force Childe back a step. “I’d be willing to let you join late, as long as you’re willing to pay the fee!”

The laugh that falls from Childe’s mouth this time is much fuller than his previous one, amusement dancing across his face. “Sure, sure. How much is it?”

“Welllll~” Venti’s index finger comes to rest on his chin as he turns his head conspiringly towards his two assistants, the corners of his mouth curled up in such a way that it practically screams mischief. 

“Since you missed the beginning of the class,” Venti begins as he turns a more scholarly expression towards Childe, his index finger tapping against his chin, “we’ll have to catch you up one-on-one. On top of that, you’re cutting into our break time, which we were really looking forward to after all our hard work with our other students...”

Paimon suddenly seems to brighten up in her spot next to the Traveler, catching onto the scheme the bard is putting forth. The Traveler can practically see her vibrating with her habit of greed. “Seriously! Paimon had to explain the ins and outs of poetry so much, Paimon’s jaw hurts!”

Childe’s eyebrows raise as he appraises the bard and the fairy, and when he glances to the Traveler, they can tell he’s not convinced. However...

“Well, why don’t I just owe you double and we move on?” the Harbinger suggests, his attention returning to Venti.

Venti laughs, delight ringing through the air. “Sounds good to me!”

—

The trio filled Childe in on what information he missed from their earlier class within a few minutes, despite how long both Paimon and Venti alluded to it taking beforehand. Childe didn’t seem bothered over paying double for something that hardly took five minutes, but knowing his spending habits after witnessing everything in Liyue, the Traveler wasn’t surprised.

By the end of it, they assigned Childe a poem to be read and critiqued by the bard as they did the others, and soon enough, the four of them parted ways with an agreement to meet at the Goth Grand Hotel later in the day.

The trio’s idle time passed by swiftly, mostly due to the hilichurl camps nearby the city they decided to clear instead of day drinking. The walk back into town and to the Fatui delegation’s temporary place of residence ate up their remaining time, and though they were clearly invited to the building by the Harbinger earlier, the guard at the door seems unconvinced.

“‘Poetry lessons’ hardly seem in the realm of the Lord Harbinger’s interests,” the doorguard, Luke, states in response to the explanation he’s been given regarding the trio’s presence.

“Well, what else do you expect him to be doing during the Windblume Festival?” Venti asks as he tilts his head curiously, a teasing smile on his face.

Luke scoffs, haughtily turning his head to the side. “The matters of the Lord Harbinger’s love life aren’t mine to divulge. Besides—“ the Traveler raises a hand to cover their sudden smile as Luke continues on, amused over the guard’s predictability. Always a talker, this one. “—last I heard, his partner is in Liyue anyway. What use would he have for the festivities of a Mondstadt festival?”

The mention of a partner has Venti perking up like a dog offered a treat, Paimon now joining the Traveler on covering a smile of her own. “Ohhh, his lover is in Liyue, huh~?” Venti sing-songs. “He must be wanting to send them an authentic piece of his time in another country! How romantic!”

The Traveler and Paimon are both left giggling behind the bard as an embarrassed flush blooms over what’s visible of Luke’s face, the Fatui man clearly only now realizing he’s once again shared too much. “Shut it, you twerp,” Luke spits, trying to reign the conversation in his favor, “unless you want the Lord Harbinger shutting you up himself!”

“Must you threaten my guests, Luke?”

Four heads turn towards the amused voice of said Lord Harbinger, who currently has his upper body partially leaning out a window of what can only be assumed is the foyer. His head is propped up on one of his hands, leaving him looking picturesque under the warm sun and soft breeze.

Venti cackles unabashedly as Luke stammers out an apology in Childe’s direction, Childe’s amused smile pulling into a grin.

“Let them in before you spill more of my secrets,” Childe waves as he pulls himself back into the building, tone light. Luke mumbles an affirmative to the no-longer-present Harbinger and opens the doors of the hotel for the three guests, Venti happily making his way inside with the Traveler and Paimon close behind, the doors softly thudding closed once they’re through.

The foyer of the Goth Grand Hotel hosts two sets of socializing spaces to the left and right of the rug running through the room, decorated with high quality rococo couches, loveseats, and chairs. At the back of the room is the counter, most likely vacant of staff due to the occupation of only Fatui here. On either side of that, stairs leading up, the space required for that leaving the room quite open.

Childe is seated in the room alone, in a chair to the left of the entrance, watching his guests with thinly-veiled amusement. He’s perched so one elbow rests against the armrest of the chair, that hand providing support for his head. He’s leaning heavily to the right, his left leg crossed over the thigh of his right, left hand loose and casual in his lap.

“Someone looks comfortable,” Venti comments good-naturedly as he makes his way over to the couch angled perpendicular to the armchair, the Traveler and Paimon following his lead.

“I am!” Childe laughs as he lifts his head from his hand, regarding the three of them with a bright smile. “Mondstadt is just so lovely right now, what with all the vitriol your people have for us Fatui.”

Paimon huffs, crossing her own legs in the air as she mimics Childe’s positioning, only a lot more balled up. “Well, can you blame them? You guys are always up to something!”

“Ahaha, a fair assessment,” Childe muses as he unfolds himself, planting both feet on the floor as he leans towards the coffee table in front of him. There, he snatches the top paper from a stack of several and offers it in Venti’s direction. “Well, shall we? You’ve more students to see, after all.”

“That we do,” Venti hums, taking the paper from the Harbinger. He sits up properly in his seat then and turns his eyes to the paper only briefly, quickly returning them to Childe. “Would it bother you if I read this aloud?”

Childe grins and waves a hand through the air, casually dismissing the need for permission. “By all means.”

The bard smiles and nods, then once again settles his gaze to the paper, clearing his throat before beginning.

“‘Words come easy to me,’” Venti begins, voice light and pleasant. “‘Over dinner, drinks, the shore. But there are some far more challenging, said aloud than written down.’”

The room is quiet save for Venti’s soft countenance. Childe’s gaze has drifted down to the rest of the pages on the table, where the Traveler can clearly see scribbles and scratches of other versions of the poem Venti’s currently reading.

“‘Surely you know by now, how irreplaceable your presence is, to a man so solitary.’”

Paimon looks to the Traveler then, head tilted in a silent question of who the Harbinger could possibly be talking about—at least until—.

“‘How every word that falls, from your lips and graces my ears, is a sweet treasure, more decadent, than any wine or dessert.’”

Paimon’s eyes widen, and she starts rapidly smacking her hand against the Traveler’s shoulder, pieces being put together. She’s excited, despite how hostile she may or may not be towards the Harbinger. The Traveler can’t help but laugh silently at her antics.

“‘Mondstadt prides itself on freedom, but the freedom you’ve given me, will forever be the envy, of the City of Wind.’”

Venti pauses here, though with a brief glance, the Traveler can see another verse written, just two lines. The script is just messy enough to keep them from making out the words before Venti’s laughing stiltedly, catching the attention of all those in the room. Childe’s eyebrows raise in a silent question, and after a beat passes without an answer, he lifts his upper body to sit up straight.

“What?” Childe laughs, the lightest dusting of color painting his cheeks as he leans back into the chair, the iron grip he’s taken up on the armrest betraying his calm. “Don’t want to finish it, little sprite?”

Venti huffs out a laugh of his own and tosses the paper back in Childe’s direction, who catches it out of the air like it’s a precious thing. Which, honestly...

“To be honest, I was expecting the same sort of mess as your form with a bow, but that was actually well done!”

Childe’s smile turns tight, mirrored perfectly back at him by Venti. The tension is palpable. Concerned, the Traveler turns their attention to Paimon, who meets their gaze with a mildly alarmed look of confusion.

The moment passes as Childe breaks eye contact with the bard, folding the paper in his hands. “Well, as unhelpful as you were, I do owe you,” Childe says as he places the piece of paper on the coffee table. He reaches under the jacket of his uniform after, pulling out a hefty pouch of mora and tossing it carelessly into Venti’s lap. It doesn’t take much thought to how much is in there when the Traveler can practically see Venti’s eyes sparkling—most likely, it’s much more than their efforts today are worth.

“Now,” Childe hums, regarding the three of them with a pleasant smile, “get out.”

—

Luke was more than happy to doubly unwelcome them as the trio stepped out from the hotel with a shout of scram! for good measure, since he apparently decided his Lord Harbinger’s icy dismissal wasn’t enough.

Venti pockets the pouch of mora with a guilt-free grin despite their initial critiquing session lasting a grand total of five minutes max, turning his attention to the Traveler and Paimon.

“Well! Next stop is the Knights of Favonius’s headquarters!” Venti announces with a clap of his hands.

—

The nighttime scene during the Windblume Festival mostly seems to consist of lovers holding hands, playing music, feeding one another food, or in that unlucky instance where the Traveler picked the wrong side path, being tangled together.

The PDA is near unbearable, but Paimon’s never ending hunger has driven them out in search of festival food. Admittedly, everything they’ve tried so far has been mouthwatering, and almost makes up for the trauma both the Traveler and Paimon now have with that one path. Luckily, they’ve wandered into a quieter section of the city, most of the festivities contained to the main street and surrounding areas.

“‘...is a sweet treasure, more decadent, than any wine or dessert.’”

The words coming from somewhere above the duo are immediately recognizable as the work of one Eleventh Harbinger they had already heard earlier in the day. The Traveler and Paimon share a startled look as the voice continues—one they just as easily recognize as Childe himself.

“‘Mondstadt prides itself on freedom, but the freedom you’ve given me, will forever be the envy, of the City of Wind,’” Childe recites, to the sky or to another, they can’t tell. Then...

“‘I love you, dear consultant.’”

A low, rumbling laugh floats down upon the duo then, and the Traveler and Paimon both freeze up.

“I never quite took you as the ‘waxing poetic’ type, Ajax,” Zhongli comments, voice something too tender for these two intruders to be hearing.

“When in Mondstadt,” ‘Ajax’ replies, his tone fond.

“Indeed.”

There’s a quiet moment that neither the Traveler or Paimon are quite sure what to do in, until they hear a deep purr of Childe’s given name. That scares them away immediately, the sound of the Traveler’s footsteps rushing back down towards the main street. 

Another beat of silence, and then Childe’s warm laughter rings out from where he and Zhongli are seated against the railing of an upper layer of the city, as innocent as ever. “I cannot believe you,” he says to the consultant through his laughter. Zhongli offers his partner an amused smile in return, his eyes crinkling in delight.

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 6/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774 

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

“Why name her BB8?”

“She was the eighth of a litter—we tried to call her anything else but that’s all she would respond to, so BB8 stuck,”

Rey was happy to give the dog a few scratches. The big ball of affection didn’t hesitate to throw an old tennis ball at her feet, along with a sock, a rubber duck, and even a fork she had pilfered from the kitchen in place of a stick.

The duck squeaked as she grabbed it, and Rey burst into a laugh of pure joy. How could she have been so mistrustful of an old woman who owned such an adorable dog?

“Why did your brother leave you his dog?”

“She was injured by a hit-and-run and I rushed her to the vet, but he eventually had to leave her to get back to his professional obligations at the time. It hurt him to leave her behind but we both knew she was in good hands. Since then I’ve been looking for an opportunity to take her back, but I’m in no shape to make the journey myself anymore.”

Rey said nothing as she watched the charming dog go round and round on the carpet as she waited for Rey to play with her some more. Leia put down her steaming teacup.

“So, Rose sent you, right? Are you close friends?”

“Not at all, actually. I just happened to be at her café at the right time. We talked a bit, I mentioned my travels and my personal life, and she said you have a job to give me,” Rey chuckled, going a little red.

“I was worried it was a con—drugs, guns, something illegal. But everything’s alright, I love BB8. I’d love to take her on the route with me, she’ll be good company. Always a good idea to have a dog when travelling solo. “

“Well, I’m not sure she’ll be an effective guard dog, you know,” Leia smiled.

“Oh, no worries, her presence is enough, at worst she’ll be more bark than bite! How urgently would I have to take her to San Francisco?”

“She’s already six months late, a few more weeks wouldn’t matter…are you comfortable with the detour?”

Rey tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she adjusted her topknot, ruminating on her response.

“I wanted to go up to Yellowstone National Park, and then Montana. Take a trek, do some rafting or some horse riding, something like that. I also wanted to check out some ghost towns, see a rodeo, maybe a powwow? Then make my way down to Idaho and Nevada. Take my time, you know. Would that be a problem for BB8?”

“Not as long as she makes it back to Luke—my brother—in one piece,” Leia waved a hand dismissively, “I’m sure it’s going to be a lovely trip. I wish I was your age so I could go globetrotting too,”

Rey laughed, glancing from one photo to another. “Weren’t you in the army? I’m sure you traveled a lot…on that note, Rose mentioned a car?”

Leia got up and motioned for Rey to follow her. “Yes, it too belonged to my brother. You’ll need to take it to California too, and it’s not doing quite as well as our friend BB8. I’m afraid it’s not exactly the most recent make and model,”

Rey followed Leia outside the house. They were taking a walk, it seemed. BB8 trotted along happily, occasionally snapping at the insects circling in the plants. It sat in a five by five plot of land in the middle of the garden on the other side of the house. Rey had mistaken it for a supplementary garbage disposal unit. An oldsmobile cruiser—exactly like the ones that at one point had been the very height of the 70s. It screamed vintage, from the boxy silhouette to the oversized bonnet which was as long as the boot itself.  The car had been white at some point, though the paint had certainly faded. It was complete with brown accents and a classic wood motif on the side, which made Rey cringe. She turned to Leia with a disapproving look.

“You have got to be joking here.  I thought your brother left you this hunk of junk to dispose of at some junkyard, not to give right back to him,”

“Well then,” Leia huffed, “all the more reason to do it, right? You know me, if he wanted to make a trash compactor out of me I really want to see his face when this baby shows up in his driveway again.”

Rey wasn’t sure if Leia was about to make a huge mistake. “This thing surely isn’t functioning anymore, is it? You’d make more money selling it to a junkyard than letting it collect dust in your garden.” Rey looked around again, “You could plant a lovely vegetable garden or whatnot instead, I’m sure you have a green thumb,”

“It was my husband’s,” Leia said wistfully, and Rey realized that she wasn’t kidding. “It was his pride and joy, he would fix it up himself back in the day. He loved that thing so much. And the life we had, all the crazy things we would do in that car…I didn’t have the heart to scrap it, it would be like killing him all over again.”

“He died? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you—“

“It’s fine,” Leia said, running her hand across the side panel in a gentle caress. “You had no way of knowing. He and my brother went the whole nine yards in this thing. It’ll get back to him somehow,”

“Alright, fine,” Rey conceded, “I understand, I’ll take the hunk of junk and the dog to San Francisco, no worries.  Do you have the papers as well?”

“Yes, they’re inside, let’s head back,”

After reviewing the vehicle registration and the owner’s manual (all of which were still up to date, not that she would have bet so) and following multiple assurances and other formalities, Rey found herself feeling something new inside. This would give her the solo road trip she always wanted, and an adorable dog to keep her company, in literally the most vintage American car she could have ever imagined.  She had always been a good driver and a car person, so she looked forward to driving a proper stick shift. It had been a good while since she last drove one and it only added to the excitement of the trip. Against all odds and expectations, Rey was actually quite a clever and resourceful  mechanic, thank you very much. She knew how to change the tires and the oil, and how to identify the source of most engine trouble. Simple things, really, but things that she would almost certainly have to do with this car. As for the rest of it, she would definitely have to invest in a good pair of sunglasses and a very wide-brimmed hat because the interior wasn’t air-conditioned at all. And water. Lots and lots of water. Maybe even a jerry or two of motor oil and petrol. And an emergency kit in case she really did get a flat tire. She was finally beginning to get goosebumps about this. Nevertheless, one detail remained to be settled.

“Pardon me if I’m being too frank Leia, but Rose mentioned some compensation, is that right?”

Leia was currently reassembling a dossier full of documents that Rey had decided not to take. She put it down gently. “Yes, I’ll be providing you with 500 dollars up front for your services. That should also cover the gaz change. Luke will give you the rest once he’s sure that BB8 is safe and sound.”

One thousand dollars wouldn’t cover all Rey’s costs, what with meals and motels and extra gaz. But she could make do, considering that a few days ago she was looking at spending twice as much just to loan a car. It would work out. It didn’t have to be a job per se, it could be…community service, absolutely.

Rey nodded, and Leia closed the dossier with a soft click.

“I’ll leave tomorrow then,” Rey said, deep in thought, “It’ll give me a whole day to make some purchases for the rest of the trip. Would you mind if I took the car? It could be a test drive as well…”

The afternoon was filled with what could only be called intense shopping. Her list consisted of mechanic’s tools, camping gear, sunblock, ration packs, a first-aid kit, dog biscuits, and even a cheap mountable stereo. She then purchased several CDs for the long road ahead, including a three disc deluxe album of the one and only KYLO & THE KNIGHTS OF REN, which she would no doubt regret impulse-buying later.

The car was at best dusty and stale, despite the little tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the front mirror. Too little too late to undo a decade’s worth of rotting in Leia Skywalker’s garden.  Rey took it upon herself to take it to a carwash and have it cleaned from the inside out. There was no telling what they would find. Earlier she had found a toy in between the back seats—a shiny red racecar that she’d shoved into the GB.

Getting ready took up most of her afternoon. She packed the car up with all her supplies and even made a little “doggie corner” for BB8 in the back seat. It was complete with a crochet blanket in case she got cold, a food bowl, her squeaky rubber duck, a tennis ball, and a single shoe. Everything was ready by the time that Leia called them back inside for dinner.

It was as though Rey was at her own grandmother’s house, despite the fact that she had only really known the woman for a couple of hours. She came back into the cottage to find a steaming bowl of spaghetti waiting for her. After a long day’s work, it was truly heaven.

“So, do you know Rose well, then?” Rey managed to ask after she had finished stuffing her face and regaining her strength.

Leia took a while to respond, prompting Rey to wonder what was so hard about the question. Finally, Leia raised her eyes after a long moment of reflection. “She and I both operate in a charity organization based out of Denver. That’s how I know her.”

“Oh! What kind of charity? meals for the poor or something?”

“Not exactly…”

Rey waited politely for an explanation but Leia seemed reluctant to answer. She pressed on, “Well? Come on now, surely you could elaborate a little?”

“It’s called Earth Soldiers,” Leia responded suddenly. She wasn’t smiling anymore, much to Rey’s surprise. “You could call us a group of…hardcore environmental rights activists.”

“So like GreenPeace? Protesting power plants-and chaining  yourself to property sort of activists?”

“Sure, you can think of it like that if you want,”

Rey was all full belly and drooping eyelids by then; she failed to notice the tension building in the room.

“But isn’t that dangerous at your age? Can you still attend the happenings or whatever they are?” Rey continued.

Leia’s gaze hardened imperceptibly. “I’ve spent my whole life fighting and I want to go down swinging,” she replied.

“Ah, I see. I imagined that after a life as full as yours you would have liked to take a break, but everyone is different, I guess,”

In response Leia simply began picking up her own empty plate so that she could start attending to the dishes. Rey tried her best to help by drying the dishes afterward and putting them away. Later, after spending a few minutes on her phone, Rey yawned loudly and excused herself for the night.

“Sorry, I should probably get to bed. May I set up the camping tent in the garden?”

“Just set up in the living room, that way you won’t get cold or have to take down a tent tomorrow. And you won’t have to hear the drunk ravings of the neighbors next door,”

“Alright, BB8 and I will leave after breakfast in the morning, goodnight Leia,”

“Good night, young lady.”

Rey rested her head on her new inflatable camping pillow, curled up snugly in her brand new sleeping bag. The carpeted floor would do for now. She was going to have to get used to sleeping on the floor soon. BB8 curled up into a ball too, sleeping on the couch after realizing that her dinner bowl was nowhere to be found (it was still in the car). Rey fell into a deep sleep. This was the first night she had not been anxious about the future, barring of course the night she was too drunk to remember—that didn’t count.

Late into the night, a coyote wandered the sleeping trailer park, an unfortunate shrew in its jaws.

Much further away, in the heart of Denver, Ben Solo performed another concert at Howl at the Moon, and Rose left the night shift at the Night Owl Café to her sister, Paige.

Their next door neighbor George Watto had started his nightly ramblings no later than three in the morning, eventually falling asleep at his own front door, fully dressed and armed with a beer bottle like a true American hero. In the quiet little cottage next door, Rey slept soundly in the living room while Leia found no sleep in the bedroom next to it.

Tomorrow, she would send that girl off to Luke in San Francisco. It was too late to go back. After years of careful political maneuvering, her entire life’s work hinged on the whims of a random British tourist who decided to vacation here of all places. What if they discovered her little honey pot scheme? What if they laid a hand on…

It was somewhere in the middle of this tiring web of entirely disquieting thoughts that Leia Skywalker fell into a short and fitful slumber.

[boobtubedude]

Reposting my original “Lost” series finale review

(Originally posted May 23, 2010, on Zap2It. RIP, Zap2It.)

So here’s the deal: this will not be a complete recap of the series finale of “Lost.” To try to make complete and coherent sense of what just dropped our way would be 1) impossible, and 2) be a disgrace to what just happened. Because what just happened isn’t something you instantly react to, but rather mull over during the course of a few days, weeks, months, or years. After all, that was the final episode. We have all the time in the world to think about its implications until we “move on.”

And yes, I use the phrase “move on” specifically due to the use of the phrase by Christian Shephard in the sideways universe, which we know now to be real only in the emotional sense of the world. All throughout the season, the producers of the show have assured us that what happens over there had stakes and meanings, and this is still completely true in the most basic of senses. Neither the pro-epilogue camp nor the pro-Island timeline had it exactly right, even though both camps had valid perspectives to bring to the table and pieces of the puzzle in hand. What “Lost” brought instead was a third perspective, one that nobody really saw and one that I bet made a core section of its audience completely and utterly insane with anger.

Looking at the finale from a perspective of mythology isn’t the best way to go about it. (I started to jot down “So who put the stone in the devil cave in the first place?” before slapping myself silly.) Looking at the finale from a perspective of plot probably isn’t the best ay, either. (Waaaaay too much time spent on getting Ajira 316 up and running again, especially considering the sideways resolution. And there are enough holes in the overall plot as a whole to dig a few dozen wells down towards the light inside all of us.) But looking at it from an emotional perspective, I thought the finale was a masterpiece.

In a sense, “The End” was a love letter from the show to itself and, hopefully, to the audience as well. But it didn’t pay off donkey wheels and Dharma Initiatives but the core characters of the show themselves. The sideways universe did offer a second chance, but not in the way that those that saw the sideways world as a chance to live their lives free from the Island. Instead, it offered each character a tremendous grace note, one felt both by the characters but also the audience at home. When these people “flashed” to their Island lives, they didn’t flash to epic moments in Island history: they flashed to empty jars of peanut butter and freshly picked flowers and all the small moments that make up a relationship.

If the show had to get one of three aforementioned elements right (character, mythology, plot), then it absolutely focused on the right one. As of this moment, writing in the immediate aftermath of what I just saw, I could care less about what happened to Kate and Company once they left the Island. The point of the show seems to be that what you do is less important than the meaning behind what you do. And moreover, if you live those lives in the correct manner, then the specifics are null and void. In the end, you arrive at the same destination. (In Richard’s case, you arrive there with newly graying hair, and the chance to actually buy the eyeliner you’ve long been accused of using.)

Now, let’s talk about that sideways destination itself. If put on the spot, here’s what I think we’re supposed to take away from it: As Island Protector, Hurley envisioned a way to give a gift back to those with whom he shared his time on the Island. Mother had her style, Jacob had his style, and Jack had his extremely interim style. But placing Hurley in ultimate charge of the Island? Brilliant, and not just because I predicted this last Fall and am happy I got at least SOMETHING right.

He’s the absolute perfect person to take the Island from what it was (something to be protected) into what it should be (something to be shared). In a show full of selfish people, Hurley is the epitome of unselfishness. Go back to the pilot episode: he’s distributing food on the first night (including a double dose for Claire, eating for two at the time). In “Everybody Hates Hugo,” he once again institutes a massive redistribution of foodstuffs. In both the Island timeline and sideways one, he uses wealth as a means to help others, giving away his cash rather than hang onto it. So having him established as the final Protector of the Island that we see (though, I imagine, not the final one by any means) worked for me.

What I imagine did not work for a LOT of you is the fact that we’ve spent one-half of the final season of the show watching events that would have been solved in “LA X” had Haley Joel Osment been on the flight. It’s a feeling that I have sensed coming for a while: the sideways world was doing such a damn good job of providing emotionally resonant moments that it eventually turned into an overwhelming attractive option for both the characters and the viewers. In fact, it turns out that the major players had absolutely no problem moving on once they made their emotional connections/breakthroughs, and instead willingly moved onto whatever lies on the other side of that white light.

As such, I look at the sideways world now as something created by Hurley (with Ben’s help) as a stopping ground for all major players in the “Lost” universe to meet at once, irrespective of when or how they died. As Christian says, there is no “now” over there. Time is just a relative construct created by people who are used to seeing events progress in a linear manner. What does Hurley ever want? For his friends to be happy! So what does he do? Well, he doesn’t build a golf course, he builds a space for them to somehow connect after shuffling off their mortal coil and all end up getting the moments of happiness that eluded them, making connections that had been previously missed, and getting forgiveness once thought impossible. They don’t have to be alive to have these things matter once achieved in the sideways universe, which is why I was behind the ultimate explanation 100%.

In the end, electromagnetism had nothing to do with the sideways world. There was no Faustian bargain between Eloise Hawking and The Man in Black. I’ve spent the second half of the season (ever since “Happily Ever After”) arguing that theory, and I’m delighted to be wrong. Why? It’s easier to buy “Hurley’s gift” as a reason as opposed to trying to throw Schroedinger’s cat as a reason for the sideways world. And that “gift” yielded scene after scene in the sideways world that reminded us all why we care so much about this show: its characters. I’m sure everyone had their particular favorites: for now, I’m putting Sawyer/Juliet in the pole position with Charlie/Claire as a surprising second. I’ll take scenes like this over lengthy exposition of the true nature of the glowing cave any day.

It’s obviously easy to say, “Well, the characters are happy, so we should be happy.” But clearly it’s not that simple. After all, these characters are fictional, constructs of the writing staff, whom I am sure went into hiding knowing that there would not only be questions but flaming torches/pitchforks aimed their way once this episode dropped. If we didn’t care about these characters, then there wouldn’t be such anger. Either you read interviews and now feel deceived, or you’re generally displeased that our characters are all dead. I’m not going to tut-tut you from that perspective, since it’s your perspective and you’re totally welcome to it.

To me, anything in the sideways world ended up being something of a bonus, both a meta-level and a narrative level. The show didn’t do the one thing I prayed it wouldn’t: negate the sacrifices and deaths on the Island timeline for some sort of reboot/do over in the sideways timeline. So, we got to see really interesting combinations and remixes of existing characters in unusual settings, with those settings driven by a combination of subconscious psychological desires and latent psychological holdups. (Kate sees herself as the innocent victim, rather than an actual killer, but is still on the run. Sawyer fashions himself a do-gooder, but is still unable to shake the memory of his parents. Jack invents a domestic life he never had, inserting a new body in his life in the form of a son to replace the father he could never find.)

On a character level, the sideways world allowed these characters the chance to let go in ways that they were unable to do in their actual lives. To fault the show for creating such a space when we have so often lamented the unfairness or abruptness of their deaths seems a bit hypocritical to me. For example, let’s take Sun/Jin. Many howled when they died, unable to believe two seasons apart boiled down to one episode; many others noted that it didn’t move them, due to the couple being alive in the sideways world. Turns out, the sideways world gave them another chance to “be together,” as the latter group suspected, but also honoring the sacrifice that tore up the former. I’d love to call this win/win, but I’m not sure I’d get many takers on this.

Let’s take another example: John Locke. Here’s a man that died a potentially pitiful death in “The Life and Death of Jeremy Bentham,” only to have his life honored and vindicated in the finale. Without inspiring Jack, the good doctor doesn’t return to the Island, and never becomes Protector, and never stops The Man in Black, and never passes off the torch to Hurley who in turn creates a special world in which Locke not only gets to have the relationship with Jack they never had on the Island, but also gets to forgive his murderer. I could give a flying fig about the other people on the outrigger if I get payoffs such as this instead.

And, as many of us suspected, the show closed on a familiar image, in a familiar place. Some might find fault with the heart of the Island being so near the place where the show started, but if The Island has taught us anything, it’s that looking and seeing are two different things. Charlie couldn’t “see” his guitar until he chose to give up his drugs. The cave is no different: Jack couldn’t see it until he was ready to see it. That’s the work he had to do all along. By bookending the series around a man opening up his eyes to the unknown and closing them as a man who learned what it meant to truly live, “Lost” encapsulated its’ primary thematic concern: what it means to live and learn through other people. They lived together, and none of them died alone. Not in the end. Perfect.

I’ve tried to thematically address the biggest issues/ideas of tonight’s episode. I realize I am short on specifics, but I also realize that there’s probably a huge need on your part to talk about this episode as quickly as possible. So I’m going to end things here, but know that this is just the beginning. Over at Zap2it’s Guide to Lost, we’re going to spend all week looking back at this episode, and by extension, the series itself. Next week, we’ll be continuing our look back at this ambitious, epic, emotional, imperfect, messy, glorious, unique show. I look forward to hearing your comments below, and I look forward to continuing the discussion with you further over on the blog throughout the week.

[simplygemma]

Easter done differently || Gemma & Henry

Summary: A spontaneous “pick me up” picnic on the little pier of her home takes their flirtationship to a new level || @rylcavill When: Easter Sunday, April 12, 2020

Easter wasn’t a big holiday in her family, at least not bigger than any other, and Gemma had celebrated it alone various times, enough to not be too bothered about not having her family around for it. She knew, however, that it wasn’t like that for everyone, and her heart broke a little for Henry during the conversation they had this morning - she hadn’t planned on doing anything in particular, but after his comment, she had decided to dust off and bring out the beautiful wooden sun chairs that had come with her lakeshore home, and set them up on the little pier that was reaching into the water. It was the perfect spot right now, perfect to take a break from everyday life - whatever that looked like right now - and catch some sun, and she wasn’t going to pass on the opportunity to do both. Especially in good company. Happy with her set-up, she went back into her kitchen and added to her already prepared food - it wasn’t anything fancy, not like he had offered her, but there were boiled coloured eggs, and bread and butter, and a bowl full of cut fruit pieces and berries. And chocolate bunnies, which she had bought on a whim, because they looked cute, and had smelled deliciously of chocolate. Putting everything in a basket, along with water and some thermo cups of coffee, as well as some sun cream, Gemma set out to get comfortable outside, and wait for her guest to arrive. 

---

The neighbourhood was somewhat familiar to Henry. He wasn’t completely sure that he wouldn’t get lost if he had found himself stranded alone in the middle of it, but at the very least he knew enough not to lose his tracks as he made his way to Gemma’s lakeshore home. He would lie if he said that he wasn’t excited to visit her. In the matter of these last couple of weeks, the pair had grown significantly closer. Henry would also lie if he said that he didn’t begin to develop certain kinds of feelings towards the young woman. It was all too early to be called love, wasn’t it? However, there was no point in denying the flutters in his stomach every time he noticed her smiling at him or heard her laughing. He wanted to spend more and more time in her company, and this sunny Easter afternoon was the perfect time for that, right? “Alright, now… Just like we’ve agreed. Be chill, no funny business,” he mentioned to Kal as they walked through the gates, yet the reminder was also for himself, as well as for his four-legged companion. Henry let out a defeated sigh, since as soon as they reached the front door and had them opened by Gemma, Kal excitedly wagged his tail, making a couple of friendly barks before pouncing on the female as if he hadn’t seen her in ages. “So much for trying to teach you to be a gentleman, huh?” he muttered with a fond smile, soon offering the same one (if not slightly wider) to the host. “It’s good to see you.”

-- 

Gemma was about to head out the French doors of her home, when she heard the garden gate swing open with a slight creak, and turned around to open the front door to her guest. Guests, as she figured out the moment that she found herself engulfed in a dog hug. “Hey friend, how are you?” she laughed, embracing the dog, whose paws reached her shoulders, before she let him down gently. “I think you might want to try again, although -” Gemma gave Henry an amused look and a lopsided grin to go with it, “his ways of hello are probably going to give you more of a response than the gentlemanly, formal way of greeting someone.” Wiggling her fingers, she ushered them inside, and through her living room to the porch outside and beyond. “Could you get the basket, please?” she asked, as she rushed into the kitchen to find a bowl for Kal and fill it with water. He was her guest as well, she would be a bad host, if she didn’t get him something, too. “How do you like it?” Her question was directed towards her back porch, her little garden and the pier that reached into the lake enough to be called that. “Come on, let’s go sit and enjoy the sun. I didn’t know what kind of snacks you have at Easter, so there are boiled eggs… but also fruit?” she finished a little lamely, but then smiled at him. Gosh, his presence had her senses in overdrive, and for once in her life, she didn’t know how to stop it. Neither did she know if she wanted it to stop. “But before we sit -” Gemma stopped right in front of him, her smile widening. “I promised you a hug, didn’t I?”

---

Henry let out a small laugh at Gemma's words and Kal's excited reaction to the greeting he received. It was easy to guess who was his new favourite person apart from Henry himself… and Henry would dare to doubt that perhaps even he was taking the second place when it came down to a showdown between Gemma and him. As requested, Henry was quick to pick up the picnic basket and carry it through the French door towards the backyard, slightly taken aback by the sight in front of him. Maybe it was the lakeshore, but it was a backyard that could rival even Jason's, which Henry doubted was possible. He smiled back at Gemma at her question, nodding excitedly. "This place is gorgeous. Perfect for a little getaway that doesn't extend more than ten meters from the comfort of your home," he added, holding back another chuckle. Kal rushed towards the bowl given to him outside the door, happily lapping up the water in hopes to cool off, if only slightly. Henry was about to respond to Gemma's explanation of the contents in her basket, before her other comment caused him to stop in his tracks. It was right, she did promise him a hug. Without much thought, Henry placed the basket down near one of the folding chairs and, with his hands now free, he wrapped his arms around the slightly shorter female's waist. He held Gemma close to his chest for a moment, simply letting the hug last for a little while longer, before he couldn't help himself — with a quick movement, Henry picked the young woman off the ground, a laugh roaring out of his chest. "There we go, much better now!"

—

“If everyone was as enthusiastic about greeting me as Kal was… I think my life would be so much better,” she laughed and looked at Henry over the top of Kal’s snout, while he was trying to lick her jaw. She couldn’t quite read the look on his face, but she wasn’t about to question it. Not right away, anyway. “Thank you!” she called after him, and joined him at the French doors. “I’m lucky - they wanted to tear down this cottage to build a bigger house, but I didn’t want that to happen. It’s a historic house… much smaller than Jason’s down the road, but - I loved the view most of all.” Gemma gave him a little shrug. “I didn’t think a new house would have the same effect in this plot as this one, so I brought in people who specialise in restoration. And voilà!” She did a little twirl, once she had set down Kal’s water bowl. Kal took to it right away and she was happy that she had been able to provide - it was warm for April, which meant that hydrating was necessary, especially, if they were to stay in the sun. Her suggestion had surprised him, she realised, as she stepped closer, but she smiled at him encouragingly. She had offered, and she wasn’t about to step back from it, when he obviously needed some human contact, while he couldn’t be with his family. As to not have to stand on her tiptoes, she snaked her arms around his waist and held onto him, face pressed against his chest. It felt nice, being encased in his arms, his warmth seeping through her clothes, his scent all around her, and she slowly opened her palms and set them on his back, only to feel him pull away gently. What she hadn’t expected was for him to pick her up, and Gemma let out a surprised squeal and pressed herself closer to him, eyes closed. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, both due to the surprise, and due to… she didn’t quite finish that line of thought, because she was set down on the pier again all too quickly. A little nervous to look up at him, she straightened her clothes and chuckled. “Anyone who doesn’t feel better after this kind of hug is a heartless twat. Phew.” Resisting the urge to fan herself, she let herself fall onto the comfy cushions of her wooden sun chairs with a grin.

---

“I think if everyone were as enthusiastic as Kal in greeting others, everyone would have a much better life,” he corrected her with a warm smile, taking the moment to simply look around and appreciate the place Gemma called her home. It wasn’t as big as he had imagined lake houses being — Jason’s for example — but it was warm and inviting. He could easily tell that the architecture was of older build and hasn’t been modernized, something Henry had learned to appreciate. After all, he was living in a restored stable building from the 18th century, you’d think he would know a thing or two about appreciating a historic building like this. The weather was nice and warm, much warmer than he had expected April to be, and Henry’s choice of clothing certainly had reflected that. He didn’t have to try and pretend to be someone else around Gemma, do things he wouldn’t normally do… therefore she got to see him in the most raw and natural form that anyone would. There he was, wearing a tight-fitting t-shirt (finding any loose shirts was becoming a struggle, admittedly), cargo shorts, and a pair of Birkenstock sandals. There he was, Henry Cavill, without any characters to hide behind, feeling incredibly free and honest in Gemma’s company. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why he enjoyed being with her so much; she seemed to like him for the way he was, without anything else to, so to speak, sweeten the deal. He loved Gemma for the way she was, too; after all, he wouldn’t have her any other way. The woman’s reaction to him lifting her up in the air got Henry grinning ear to ear, and he only tightened his arms around her, pressing her closer to his chest. They were so close, he could swear he was able to feel her heart beating. It seemed to be almost concerningly fast, but then again, his own heart was also picking up its speed, too. That’s when Henry knew there was nothing to worry about, only smile. After all, that’s one of the things he didn’t even need to try around Gemma — it happened naturally. “Those are the kind of hugs that are the best, after all,” he responded, unable to hold back a laughter at the way she phrased her sentence, unsure if he had ever heard her say ‘twat’ out loud before. It made him laugh, which was the most important part… right? He soon took a seat on the other chair by Gemma’s side and let out a deep sigh, taking in the sun for just a moment with his eyes closed (which wasn’t something that was visible due to his sunglasses, anyway). “What a day, huh? All you need is a sound of ducks quacking on the lake and it’s the picture perfect spring getaway.” 

—-

There was that smile again, which had her heart rate spike for an instant, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from blushing. “You can count yourself lucky that you have Kal in your life then - an endless supply of extraordinary greetings. The rest of us can consider ourselves lucky to get it once in a while.” Since she had quickly dived into the kitchen, Henry was walking in front of her, which gave her ample time to take him in, and she tried not to giggle at his very comfortable attire. What he was wearing was unexpected, and yet it looked like he had never worn anything else right now, which just proved to her how confident he was in being himself around her. It made her happy that she was able to get this kind of glimpse of him, that he apparently let her. Not to mention that tight shirt really worked for him - and silently she agreed that it worked for her, too - and she let her eyes linger one last time, before falling in step next to him on the last stretch to the pier. The turn their hug had taken left her head spinning a little, figuratively speaking, and she was tempted to step back into his personal space she had just left, and get herself another one of those bear hugs. Gemma sucked her bottom lip between her teeth instead, and looked to busy herself with the basket and the food in it, happy that she could slide her aviator sunglasses over her eyes and hide behind them until that blush which seemed ever present around him subsided a little. “Those shared ones that bring people together are the best. You never know how they could end.” Hugs were a deeply personal thing to her, she liked giving them to people she adored - but she had never consciously offered someone a hug like she had done for him today. Tilting her head up, as she sat down on her sun chair, she smiled at him. “I’m glad that there aren’t any ducks, geese or swans right now - do you know what kind of ruckus they can make in the mornings? They’re louder than cocks.” While she considered herself a city person, she had grown up in Kent, and quite rurally for a few years, and she could remember the crowing and quacking and fighting, and had to laugh at the memories. “I have coffee and water, and I didn’t know what kind of Easter food traditions you have, so I have coloured boiled eggs, bread, butter, fruit… chocolate bunnies?” Her grin grew wider. “That was always my favourite Easter tradition - feasting on chocolate.”

---

Henry couldn’t help but note the words that she had spoken and the way they were spoken, too. For a moment he wondered if Gemma ever felt lonely; the house wasn’t large, but even he would start feeling a little lonesome if he didn’t have Kal at his side. He didn’t mention it out loud, however, but an idea of, perhaps, visiting her more often with his furry friend wouldn’t be that bad. He certainly wouldn’t mind it, and he was sure that Kal would enjoy spending more time with Gemma, too… and not only for extra cuddles that she was so keen on giving him. It was incredibly liberating to be able to simply be himself around somebody, especially someone that had become such a big part of his life. Was he overreacting? Perhaps. Then again, who was he to tell his own heart how to feel about things? He could be overreacting, of course, but he couldn’t deny the way his heartbeat quickened every time he looked at her, the way he felt flutters in the pit of his stomach each time he heard her laugh… and the irresistible urge to pull her close and kiss her whenever she slipped her bottom lip between her teeth. Dammit. He needed to calm himself down, otherwise he would (once again) notice his steel-hard self-resilience being questioned. “I wouldn’t mind the sound of ducks to wake up to,” Henry shrugged in response with a warm smile, “but I guess it depends on whether you are a morning person or not. My mornings are usually early because of the jogs, so I would probably be already awake by the time they would start the ruckus.” There it was, the laugh again that caused him to smile and he soon found himself laughing, too. Henry arched an eyebrow when she started naming all the snacks and drinks she had packed into the basket and he couldn’t help but smile at her reaction to the chocolate bunnies. “Feasting on chocolate is probably a lot of people’s favourite tradition of many different holidays,” he pointed out, barely holding back another chuckle. Despite the folding sun chairs being not too far from each other, Henry still felt like there was too much distance between them. Perhaps as an excuse to get closer to Gemma, perhaps completely subconsciously, Henry scooted his chair close enough to the other one, to the point that there was barely any space between them anymore. There. Much better, right? “I think it would be a crime to not eat at least one egg on Easter, wouldn’t it?” he pointed out with a smile, leaning in closer to take a peek inside of the picnic basket. “And maybe then, once we’ve done that… we can dig into the chocolate and have no guilt weighing our hearts about some forgotten traditions.”

—-

“Remind me, when your birthday is again?” Gemma asked, an amused grin on her face. “Your home is missing some ducks, apparently.” His comment made sense, but she shook her head anyway. She wasn’t much of a morning person, opting to sleep in, when she could, which usually meant that she was up around eight am - if she was feeling generous, she would put her alarm half an hour earlier to go on a run. But lately, she hadn’t really been up for going too early, she didn’t have much to do during the rest of the day, so why rush? “Ugh, you early morning persons - I bet you’re exceptionally chipper, too, while I need coffee to feel like a human being.” Making a face mockingly, she stuck out her tongue at him. “I might look like I love tea more than anything, but coffee is my life line.” Almost out of reflex she reached for one of the thermo mugs, and clutched it close, before she drank from it happily, her eyes never leaving his. “That’s true - although, for me, that’s just Easter. Christmas is for cookies. Perhaps I’m also a little off, because my parents, my sister and I celebrate less traditionally than others. But it’s chocolate, so… when is it ever a bad time to enjoy it?” It was while she talked animatedly that she noticed that Henry was inching closer with his sun chair, and had aligned their chairs in such a way that she could scoot over, should she choose to want to. Her memory conjured up the feel of his arms around her again, and the sensation of his fingers against her skin from that day they had worked out and had dinner - and she felt herself turning towards him on her cushion to look at him. The basket was now on the other side of his chair, and she watched amusedly, as he peeked inside. “I haven’t eaten anything yet - but I think if I start on chocolate, I might end up eating it all.” Hopefully, the look on her face told him she would never regret that - but she smiled cutely anyway, just in case. “Egg, bread, fruit, then chocolate? I’m a big fan of anything sweet, really...” Reaching over, she pulled out the smaller bread basket and balanced it in the space between them and placed the fruit bowl next to it. “This is nice, isn’t it? The sun is out, there’s food, we don’t have to move -” As if to prove a point she stretched and toed her ballerinas off, then tugged on her leggings until they were bunched just below her knee. “There’s sun cream in there, just in case, too.”

---

Henry couldn’t help another quick laugh that escaped him at her comment, causing him to shake his head in a fondly manner. “I wish I had a pond in my backyard to host them all. If I had — you can bet I would have a small paddling of ducks,” he shared with another stifled chuckle. “Although I don’t suppose we have to worry about it just yet. My birthday isn’t until the next month… and I don’t plan on getting any gifts on that day either.” He knew that he probably would be asked about the comment that he made, which he was more than eager to explain. “For this year, you see, I was planning on having a fundraiser for Durrell Wildlife Association. I’ve been a partner with them for quite a few years now, and not being able to travel back to Jersey and help out in person has been slowly causing a guilt to grow deep in my guts.” He offered Gemma a warm, if slightly bittersweet smile, trying to shake off the more sad thoughts away and focus his attention on the female and her explanation about Easter, as well as other holidays, in her family’s household. “Easter and Christmas are a big thing for us. With all of the five sons being scattered around the world, it’s always so incredibly nice to gather together on holidays like that and spend some time together. Chocolate is always a must, be it Christmas or Easter… although now that you’ve mentioned, I could already smell mum’s gingerbread freshly taken out of the oven,” he shared a fond memory. He almost added that he would be looking forward for Gemma to taste his mother’s delicious baked goods, too, but he managed to stop himself just at the right time. What was going on in his mind? What was happening to him, in general? Henry watched Gemma pull out the contents of the basket and balance them on the crack between the two chairs. Despite having had breakfast earlier, his stomach made a gurgling noise at the sight of the snacks displayed in front of him. Thankfully, Gemma managed to steal his attention away with a casual mention of the weather and he couldn’t help but agree. It was certainly a beautiful day and they had a beautiful sight in front of them… however, in Henry’s mind, he didn’t mean the lake and the nature around them when thinking about beautiful sights that caught his eyes. “You think we’re going to get a tan? I wasn’t sure if the sun’s strong enough for that,” he let out a small laugh, considering it for just a moment. “I kind of hope we don’t. I clearly decided to wear the wrong kind of shirt… can you imagine the awkward tan line if I decide to put on a vest for another work-out session?”

—-

Of course he would take her teasing comments and turn them into a possibility - no, a probability - only dashed by the lack of pond, for now at least. “I’m not one to gift pets as a birthday gift, nothing good can come of that. I’d rather bring you a… did you say paddling?” Gemma started laughing, and pressed her hand in front of her mouth to keep from being too loud. It was the correct, if absolutely ridiculous word for it. His next words had her sober up, and even frown a little. “But this doesn’t mean that you aren’t going to get any presents,” she protested gently, “we can do both, right? Support your cause and give you something personal - it doesn’t even have to be anything big…” The more she talked, the more she realised that it wasn’t just about guilt of not being there for him, but seemingly also about not being able to do much of anything right now, about not being there - home - and before she could stop herself, she reached over and grabbed his hand, curling her fingers around his and squeezing gently. “You’ll get there soon,” Gemma reassured him gently, “this is hardly more than a temporary hiccough, and you’ll be back to helping and supporting soon enough.” Imperceptibly, she inched closer until she could nudge his shoulder with her own. “It’s Easter, so no sad thoughts right now - they’ll still be there tomorrow, or the day after.” Her words were accompanied by an encouraging smile, and she let out a breath - relief, she noticed - when they moved onto other topics. “That sounds wonderful - and probably smells wonderful, too! My mum makes really great mango pudding, I feel like those two combined could be a lethal combination.” Her smile widened, and she squeezed his hand again, before scooting back and busying herself with the food, because - well, if she remained that close to him, and entwined with him, she would probably find herself doing something stupid, and… that was the last thing that she wanted. Not the stupid thing per se, but threatening this budding friendship she had with Henry, when they both felt so comfortable around each other. She didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise that. A low rumbling cut through her thoughts and she bit her lip, but couldn’t stop the giggles that spilled from her. “Help yourself.” Rearranging her clothes, first her leggings and then rolling up her sleeves, kept her from stealing too many glances at him, but his smooth voice, that lilt she couldn’t quite place but which went straight through her, had her look up at him sooner than she had expected. “I’m hoping we’re going to get one, because - if there’s sun, I want to enjoy it as much as I can. It’s still too cool for bikinis, but this is pretty perfect for now.” Shooting him a curious, but amused look, she shook her head. “The things you worry about,” she teased him playfully, as she gave him a very obvious, a little exaggerated once-over. “No clothes, no tan lines… just saying.” Laughter bubbled up within her, and she popped a berry into her mouth to keep from breaking apart laughing fully. Gemma was still on one edge of her sun chair, she noticed suddenly, and, as she tried to scoot further back, she realised that a warm mass had taken her space. “Well, Kal’s definitely enjoying the sun.”

---

“Yes, a paddling of ducks. They’re a flock when they’re flying, but a paddling when they’re in water,” Henry explained with a bright smile on his face, only widened by her failed attempt at covering up her laughter. By God, the things that laughter did to him… Before he could shake off that feeling on his own, Gemma helped by reaching out for his hand. Despite their size difference not being that massive, her hands were quite petite and delicate in comparison to his. It was a nice, calming, soothing feeling, immediately washing over him and offering support that he didn’t even know he needed at the moment. The gesture was unexpected, but wasn’t unwelcomed, as he soon reached his free hand to place on top of hers, responding to her with an honest smile, as genuine as he could muster. She seemed to understand his struggle without him having to voice it out loud. As much as he loved Royal and managed to make it his second home… he missed not being able to return to his hometown, to his family. He felt trapped, despite putting on a brave face and seeming so happy. He was happy, of course, but there was a shadow of sadness and loneliness that followed him. The shadow that Gemma managed to soothe and shoo away, hopefully for a long, long time. Henry smiled again when the talk returned back to the holiday foods, and he let out a satisfied humming noise at the thought of it all. “Such a collaboration could definitely put all of us in a food coma… one that I wouldn’t be opposed to, not at all,” he responded, unable to hold back another wave of laughter. As soon as Gemma pulled away, Henry immediately felt a lack of her at his side, despite her still being relatively nearby. His thoughts still lingered on the feeling of her soft, gentle hands offering him a supportive squeeze, the tenderness in her voice as she soothed his melancholy thoughts, despite the usual happy-go-lucky view on life and everything that happened to him. He laughed again, this time at Gemma’s comment about his clothes. There was only a short second of doubt, before he shrugged and (still holding back a low, rumbling chuckle) reached for the collar of his shirt at the back of his neck, quickly pulling it off with one quick movement. The weather was definitely warm enough, with just a hint of a light breeze that made the already fresh air feel even more… refreshing. He tossed the shirt over the back of the sun chair, catching Kal’s reaction, who - up until this moment - casually lounged on Gemma’s chair by her side. “Oh no,” Henry’s lips split into a rather mischievous smile, “I think I know that look.” With a click of Henry’s tongue, Kal quickly got up and jumped off the chair, giving more room to Gemma, rushing towards the edge of the pier and excitedly hopping around, letting out a few barks. “We do this all the time. It will only take a second, I promise.” The actor picked up a slice of apple from the pile of neatly cut-up fruit, as he, too, got up from his seat and made his way towards the edge of the pier. “Come on, boy! After you.” With permission granted, Kal immediately jumped into the water. Henry has never really been one of the ‘seal people’ who purposely took dips in the cold water, but given a chance, he wasn’t going to let the opportunity go to waste… and that’s why he didn’t even hesitate before following his dog’s example. The water was cold, but not unbearable. He had taken ice baths before to soothe his muscles after an intense day of working out, so this felt just like another cold bath… just of a much larger scale. He didn’t take long, however, quickly getting back on the dock of the pier, shooting Gemma a smile and a shrug that could only say: “I’m sorry, my dog made me do it.“

—-

„It makes sense,“ Gemma countered amusedly, „they never paddle while they fly, do they?“ It felt amazing, being able to joke around, banter and especially to laugh like this with someone, so freeing, and she didn’t think she would be able to stop, if she wanted to. And she definitely didn’t want to right now, not, when she was making him laugh, too, and his dimples were on full display, and... he looked so incredibly handsome that it took her breath away and had her heart flutter. It took a moment for them to come down from their amused high, and while she would have loved to keep the fun moment going, there were serious topics at hand, and she was glad that he opened up to her like this. Before she could stop herself, she reached for his hand and held on to it. No one should have to feel guilty right now, least of all a gentle soul like him - the situation was difficult enough already without the added stress of fretting about things they couldn’t change anyway. Her first instinct, when she felt his other hand settle on hers, was to squeeze the one she was holding, and to give him a gentle, reassuring smile. They could all use someone in their corner, and as new as this was, Henry was her friend, and she would try to do everything in her power to keep him from struggling or worrying about things that were out of their hands. Gemma didn’t quite realise how long they sat with their hands entwined like that, it might have been a few minutes at most, but she could feel the loss of warmth, and the tingling, when she eventually drew back, and she kinda regretted moving in the first place. „Mmm, we need to have that happen one day,“ she mused, „and if only to see what they could come up with. Either way, we’d get good food, right?“ Giggling alongside him, she busied herself with arranging the food between them, but was soon distracted by Kal’s presence behind her - the sneaky dog had stretched out in the vacated place on her sunchair, while she had comforted his owner, and he didn’t look remotely sorry about it. But then again, neither did she, when she had essentially asked Henry to take his shirt off just now… only that she hadn’t expected him to follow through with it. Of course Gemma knew he was fit, but her eyes still roamed over the newly exposed skin, over the defined planes of his pectoral muscles, the way his torso moved with every breath he took - it took a lot of self-restraint not to reach out and touch to see, if they were real (from their other encounters, she knew they were real). Openly staring, although with an amusedly quirked eyebrow, she almost missed Kal moving, and fell back against her cushion with a laugh. “What are you up to now?” she asked, intrigued by his vague comment - surely they wouldn’t… oh, but they did, and she pressed her hands to her mouth to keep from gasping, when Kal and Henry jumped into the water with loud splashes. And by God, she couldn’t stop staring, especially, when he hauled himself up onto the tiny pier again. “If one of you boys douses me with cold water, you’re going to regret it,” she threatened with a laugh and a raised finger, but then reached behind her - the weather had been warm enough to consider sitting on the pier and dangling her feet in the water later, and she had left some towels out just in case. They were coming in handy now, and she stood and offered him one, while subtly checking him out again. “I know I’m hot, but you didn’t have to go to such lengths to cool off,” Gemma grinned at him, reaching out to poke his chest with her finger to make her point. Her comment was so tongue-in-cheek, when it was him who was really, really hot to her right now - although she wouldn’t exactly jump in the lake to do something about it.

---

Being next to Gemma, sharing a laugh together, and enjoying the pleasant silence when topics turned to the slightly heavier ones… all of these things had managed to catch Henry’s attention out of the blue and get him to think of things that more likely than not could very quickly and easily ruin this wonderful friendship the two of them had began building with one another. They liked each other, that much was clear. And no, he didn’t mean it in the ‘oh, of course I like that person, we’re good friends’ kind of way. All of it ran a lot deeper than that. Sure, he couldn’t talk for Gemma and know what exactly was going on in her mind, but he had noticed the way she looked at him (especially moments like this), the suggestive comments that could have easily been considered teasing and joking around… but the blush that covered her cheeks and her sudden coy and sheepish smile afterwards spoke more than hundreds of words could. It was true, Henry was slow on picking up the cues when it came to flirting. Sometimes he would simply think he was being nice to a girl, while she was sure he was trying to chat her up. Other times, he would have other girls flirting with him, and yet he’d consider them to be joking around, teasing, or just… well, being nice. Henry was slow, but he wasn’t blind. He noticed the way she was staring at him when he removed his shirt… he also noticed the same way she was looking at him as he got out of the water. The actor wouldn’t deny the fact that a similar hungry with infatuation look was on his face, too, each time Gemma smiled at him, laughed alongside him, or made one or another flirtatious remark while looking at him with… those eyes. For a quick second, his mind returned to their afternoon several days ago, the sensation of her straddling his torso, the feeling of her warm, soft, bare skin under his touch as his fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt. It was hard to resist her then. It was just as hard to resist her now, too. Henry constantly reminded himself of his steelhard self-resilience and the ability to be respectable and gentlemanly… but just how long was he able to keep it up? Especially now, that he felt a shudder running down his back when Gemma approached him with a towel in one hand and poking at his chest with the other. Before he could stop himself from doing anything stupid (or at least, that’s what he thought, anyway), Henry reached for Gemma’s towel-free hand and made sure to keep it there, against his chest as he shot her a rather suggestive and — dare he say — shamelessly beguilling look as he leaned just a little closer. He let her hand relax against his chest, even though he still had a loose grip around her wrist. “If you think that a quick dip in cold water could help me cool off from just how attractive you are, you clearly don’t think nearly as high of yourself as you should,” he commented in a half-whisper, to add just a little bit more to the tension that was building between them. 

—-

Admittedly, Henry and Kal’s impromptu dip in the lake had her very amused and a little flustered, and not just from from the sight of a shirtless Henry, although she would point out to herself that was where the slight rosy flush on her cheeks came from right now. Gemma had known long before they had become friends that he was a very attractive man, but she hadn’t counted on seeing it this up close in person. And without a warning no less. Making herself comfortable on her cushion with her feet tucked under her, she tried to quell the urge to fan herself, but soon got distracted by laughing at the pair, and fumbling for the towels she had placed behind their sun chairs earlier this morning. For a moment, she even entertained the thought of joining them, although she wasn’t wearing swim wear underneath her leggings and flowy shirt, and probably would end up shivering - but somehow, the thought of them treading water close to each other, or even holding onto each other for support… her daydreams were interrupted, when Henry hauled himself out of the water, and Kal paddled to the shore to jump back onto the pier right behind her. He seemed to have understood her words, because he was zooming off onto the lawn, before she had finished and shook the water out of his fur there, to his heart’s delight - and it left Gemma giggling, as she uncurled her legs and stood, stepping closer to Henry to hand him the towel, so he could dry off. Her comment came with a poke to the chest, an action which she hadn’t given much thought to until he caught her wrist, and kept her hand close to his chest, until she relaxed her fingers and set her palm onto his cool skin. As if that wasn’t enough to spike her heart rate, the look on his face was so deliciously open and suggestive - perhaps only mirrored by one of those looks she had given him last time they were together - and Gemma could feel her cheeks heat under his stare. He looked like he was chiseled out of marble, with water droplets slowly running down his face, neck, shoulders and chest, and she didn’t quite know where to look first. His gaze was burning into her, his chest seemed a little too intimate, being bare and right there, and so warm under her palm, and... She didn’t even notice that her fingers had slowly begun curling against his chest, into his well-groomed chest hair, until she replied, and she stared at her hand instead, while she thought of a reply. “If that’s the case, perhaps you should consider going back in, love,” Gemma bit her lip and looked up at him cautiously, when she heard him speak, and gave him a small, lopsided grin, only to use her curled hand to push him back off the pier. What she hadn’t counted in was that his fingers were still wrapped around her wrist, his momentum and body weight had her lose her footing and stumble after him into the water. Sputtering, she broke through the surface and, realising the situation, started giggling, while she closed the small distance between them to wrap her arms around his shoulders loosely. “Is this any better?” she muttered, reaching out to slowly brush back some wet curls away from his forehead. She didn’t quite know what had her be so forward, but she enjoyed this. Right here. Right now. Just them.

---

Henry had noted that he could have simply stayed there and looked at her for what it seemed like a sweet forever. The time had stopped for a moment, as he gazed upon the female in front of him… so close to him. They were in such close proximity before (perhaps even closer than that, he remembered), but it wasn’t as intimate as this moment, right then and there. He was most probably staring at her, but he couldn’t help himself. There was no malicious intention behind it, however. He simply wanted to… look at her. Take her in, breathe her in. Henry looked at her as if she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes upon— and perhaps that was true. Gemma managed to take his breath away, steal the air from his lungs almost as quickly as the cold water in the lake. He felt shivers run down his back once more as her fingers grazed his chest, curling and carding through the hair on his chest. If Henry wasn’t holding his breath at that moment, you would surely hear a somewhat of a pleased hum leave his lips. He was quiet, however. One wrong move, one word or sound out of place and he would’ve ruined the precious moment that Henry was clinging onto. They shared similar kinds of moments before, but this was different. Neither one of them seemed to be pulling away, stopping each other… or holding back themselves for that matter. The actor watched Gemma bite on her lip and, once more, a quiet voice at the back of his mind wanted to encourage him to simply lean in and kiss her, be the one biting that lip for her, give into the temptation he has been feeling for a little while now. However, before he could do it, he felt himself falling backwards. He tried to gather his balance and his footing, but before he knew it, he stumbled back into the waters, followed by Gemma — whose wrist he still held onto. A quick hint of panic shadowed Henry’s face, as he helped the woman break through the surface, ready to apologise for being so clumsy… but then she started laughing. Soon enough, a smile returned to Henry’s face and he found himself laughing alongside her. Was a dip in the lake a part of her plans for this afternoon? Perhaps not. Henry couldn’t deny, however, he more than enjoyed his company. Even the water didn’t seem so cold anymore. Gently, but surely, he pulled Gemma closer towards him. “It definitely isn’t worse,” he replied, once he was finally able to stifle his chuckles for long enough to form a sentence. With one arm snaked around her waist to keep her close, he reached his other hand to follow Gemma’s initiative and brush her hair away from her face. She was beautiful. Gorgeous… almost painfully so. He used the back of his fingers to ever so lightly brush at her cheek, then along her jawline. Henry leaned in closer, keeping a sure grip of her waist, inching ever so closer. Just a little bit more and he would’ve managed to do something… that one thing that hadn’t left his mind ever since he thought of kissing her for the very first time. One thing would never change, however. A gentleman was still a gentleman, no matter the situation or the lack of self-resilience. Henry pulled back, just enough to be able to look Gemma in the eyes, his own pair glimmering with excitement and hope. “I would really like to kiss you right now.”

—

Gemma hadn’t expected her impromptu prank to go so sideways, and least of all for her to land in the water alongside Henry - but then again thinking was difficult, when he was so close, and even now, when she was resurfacing, his simple touch took her breath away and left her mind devoid of any conscious thought which didn’t have to do with him. Taking low breaths to steady herself, she blinked, once, twice, and then felt the giggles bubble up in her chest. Soon enough laughter erupted from her slightly parted lips, and Gemma wound her arms around his shoulders, mostly to be able to hold onto something, well, someone - laughing and treading water wasn’t quite as compatible as one would think, after all. As cold as the water around her was, as warm did Henry feel under her hands, and close to her, and instinctively, she pressed herself closer to take advantage of the sensation. “That isn’t an answer to my question, Henry,” she berated him amusedly, “I’m pretty sure we’re the definition of cooled off by now.” Only that he was such a warm presence, and she was so close to him, which left her in a whole other kind of hot and bothered state which had nothing to do with the cold. In this very close proximity, it would be so easy to close the distance and kiss him, and wrap her legs around his waist to hold him in place, and… such sudden and tempting thoughts came to her mind, and she played with them for a moment, tried to rationalise is beyond a sudden surge of desire, but it was futile. She wanted him, it was that simple - she wanted that bloody handsome, kind, caring man who bled emotions all over the place and got excited about the little things in life. Gemma bit her lower lip, although she couldn’t quite look away from him just yet - he would surely notice her thoughts, when she did it all too suddenly. No, she had to resist that temptation, because if she read their flirting all wrong, and she went for it... the last thing she wanted was to make him uncomfortable, destroy their friendship, which was still new and somehow already very dear to her. Deep in thought, she tilted her head towards his touch, before she even realised what he was doing, and once she did, she couldn’t help but smile and let out the smallest appreciative hum. These kind of light touches, barely there, and yet so very real, were a source of weakness for her, and she would indulge in them however much she could - she had done so a lot in the past, to the point where she was putty in the other one’s hands. She just hadn’t expected Henry to figure that out right away, although perhaps he didn’t know and he was just… any kind of rational thought flew right out the window, when she heard his words, and she could feel another, fierce blush rise in her cheeks. “Would you now?” Gemma muttered back, as she tightened her hold of her hands on his shoulders and closed the distance between them. Their lips were so close, hers just hovered over his mouth, and she could feel their breaths mingling - but she wouldn’t lean in and kiss him just yet, since he had to do the gentlemanly thing and ask her. It was sweet, and amusing, and she tried not to grin at her, although she knew that he would be able to see the mischievous glint in her eyes. “Do you ever take what you want?” she asked in a low voice, “kick your manners to the side and go down and dirty, because you can’t help yourself?” While she talked, she could feel her lips brush his, and let out a strangled sigh - her self-restraint was waning so quickly that she knew she probably had a few precious seconds left, before she would give in. 

---

Henry wanted to wait. He wanted Gemma to make the first move and keep them on the pace that was comfortable for her. The last thing he would’ve ever even dreamed of doing was something that somebody found uncomfortable in one way or another. Of course, she was playing along and they’ve been mercilessly teasing each other with suggestive and seductive comments for a little while now… but that didn’t mean that he had any clue whether or not those comments had any weight behind them, or were simply there for a little bit of a more raunchy tease. Admittedly, Henry had always found hard time differentiating between the two, so it didn’t come as a surprise that he wasn’t able to see Gemma’s true intentions. Or, perhaps, he could, but didn’t quite believe it to be true. However, there was no denying of any of that anymore, was there? The pair were keeping themselves up in the water, holding each other close and feeling the tension rising… but it wasn’t a bad kind of feeling at all. It was exhilarating, it caused his head to pump heavy in his chest as he kept his arm around Gemma, unable to loosen his grip for anything right now. They were so close, he could swear he felt her heartbeat against his own chest, hear each quiver in her breath — even more so when she moved closer, less than an inch away from his lips. Fuck. She was a tease, there was no denying it, but Henry wouldn’t have had her any other way. Her lowered voice sent a whole other wave of shivers down her back and his arms, all the way to her fingertips, causing them to tingle. The words she spoke only heightened the feeling, leaving Henry breathless after letting out an almost desperate-seeming sigh as he tried to fight back, to hold onto the last strings of his chivalrous self-resilience. Then… she closed the gap. No, not completely, but enough to awaken something inside Henry, something that has been hidden and asleep for so very long. He could feel her lips brushing against his and you could possibly pinpoint the exact moment when the last straw was broken and the last remaining thread that held him back snapped. There was a hint of a growl that escaped Henry’s chest right before he finally gave in and pressed his lips against hers in a kiss. It wasn’t chaste or gentle at all. The kiss was desperate, deep, and filled with all the emotions that Henry was holding back, because it was the ‘gentleman thing to do’. He kept a tight grip around Gemma’s waist with one hand, his other hand moving into her hair as he curled his fingers in the tangles of her wet locks, if only to keep her close, barely able to keep himself away from deepening the kiss, waiting for a response from Gemma. She held his heart in a palm of her hand right now, and it was completely up to her where the story of the two of them will go from this moment on.

—-

After all the teasing, flirting and pushing they had thrown back and forth - literal pushing in her case, too -, after all the banter and the little touches between them, Gemma would have bet that she ended up the first to break, to throw all caution, not to mention the last shreds of her self-restraint, to the wind and kiss him until she was too light-headed to think properly. And yet, she had dug up and grabbed onto the last bit of patience she had found within herself, had held back to wait for him to catch up, to see how he would react. She could see the moment that gentlemanly demeanour cracked, when that steely restraint he had used around her broke - that growl, dear God, it sent such delicious shivers of anticipation down her back - but she couldn’t have anticipated just how much she had chipped away from his carefully crafted facade. The press of his lips against hers was bruising, it felt harsh and demanding, and she let out a strangled sound, half moan, half squeal, because she had expected something, but not this. Not this kind of earth-shattering kiss which had her mind reeling, which set her body aflame from the inside out and which had her cling to him… Her arms were tightened around his neck, fingers curled in his wet hair, and she pressed herself to him, to ask for more, to demand it even, because it felt heavenly, and she couldn’t possibly get enough right now. She wanted all of this and more, wanted to feel and taste and touch, and she wrapped her legs around his waist to hold and hoist herself up, to be able to kiss him as freely as she wanted to. With her mind too hazy to think clearly, Gemma couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the fact that Henry, her Henry, that kind and caring and dorky person, could kiss so deliciously dirty - but she enjoyed it beyond words, and made her a very willing participant. She wanted to learn about him, figure out what he liked and how he enjoyed things, and make him as hot and bothered as she was becoming from the touch of their lips alone. Her lips opened under his, her tongue darting out to feel the plumpness of his bottom lip and trace his Cupid’s bow - he felt so soft under her touch, tasted deliciously sweet, a little minty, that it had her smile into the kiss. That kiss had her forget everything around her but him, had her soaring high, had her forget how to breathe, but it was okay, it was all right, because he had his arms around her, and it made her feel safe, when their kiss made her want everything else. “Wow,” she breathed eventually, as she broke away enough to take a breath. “That’s - that was - something...” It was, as if he had sucked the ability to form coherent thoughts out of her, and she started giggling at the realisation and brushed her lips against his, perhaps she could tell him this way just how much she was loving this right now, how much she wanted this, wanted him, and wanted to continue it. Gemma didn’t know how long they had stayed this way, but slowly but surely she began shaking, and not from desire - and she became acutely aware that they were still in the water, in the middle of April, and they probably should get out, before either one of them caught anything. “We should -” She nibbled on his lower lip, and drew it out a little, to tease and to stall, so she could gather her wits about her, or what was left of them, at least, “- Out of the water -” Obviously words were failing her, and she laughed at herself, and stole one last kiss, before she wiggled out of his arms and swam to the shore. “If I invite you to shower with me to warm up, will you decline again?” The words were out of her mouth, before she could stop them. Yet again, she sucked her lower lip between her teeth, and looked at him with wide, open eyes.

---

If Henry still had any doubts of being on a different page than Gemma about where exactly they stood when it came to their budding flirtationship, all of it disappeared out of his mind the moment she responded to his kiss. If anything, it only proved how oblivious he could be sometimes, since it seemed that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. The passion and eagerness were overflowing, but he didn’t mind it one bit. On the contrary, he basked in it, wanting to feel every shudder of excitement and desire against his body, feel her heart beating against his own chest. He wanted to catch every breath she took and dive into yet another deep kiss with her. After so many intentional teasing and toying with each other, Henry was more than happy to finally let go of the facade formed by fear and cautiousness. A sound that escaped Gemma’s lips was something he was ready to hear again… and again. He was going to make it his life’s mission to hear it repeated, just for him, if that’s what it would take. For just a quick second Henry let his mind wander, imagining what other sounds he’d be able to get out of her. The thought alone excited the actor to the very core, easily turning him on just as much as the action that was happening in the moment. He let his lips part open, inviting her curious tongue and welcoming it with his own, lost in the moment of the exchange. The lake water was cold, it was true, but it only helped him with the sensation of floating in the air that he was already feeling just from the kiss alone. At the same time, Gemma helped him feel grounded. It was a strange combination of feelings, but he couldn’t imagine anything half as good as what was happening to them at the moment. Henry couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle of his own at Gemma’s reaction when the kiss finally broke, but he did not allow her to pull away from him too far. Thankfully, it seemed that she had no intentions to do so. He took this time to take a breath of his own. It wasn’t the first time that the female in question had left him breathless… and just like the other times before, he welcomed it with nothing short of adoration. He adored her, it was as simple as that. He wanted to discover her, to figure out every single thing that made her tick, that gave her the most pleasure… everything that caused her to let another one of the sounds that shook Henry to the core and awoken the sleeping lion inside of him. When he forced himself to get his mind back to reality, he couldn’t help but notice Gemma’s shivers. Before he could ask her about them, she confirmed his doubts. He was used to the ice baths and cold showers because of his training, but the water must have been freezing for Gemma. Henry eagerly followed suit and got out of the water, climbing onto the pier and watching her as she turned towards the house. The last time she had made the same offer, Henry was almost sure that she was teasing him in a playful manner without any actual thought behind her words. This time, he knew what she meant when she made the offer. How could a man refuse? Henry was already eager to fall on his knees in front of her if it would only please the woman standing just a couple steps away from him. Taking a warm shower together was the least he could do. That is… if there was going to be any showering done, of course. With a smirk tugging at one corner of his lips, Henry closed the distance between them. He swiftly hooked his arm around the bend of her knee, the other arm offered support to her back as he picked Gemma up (swept her off her feet, quite literally) bridal style and carried her towards the French door. “You’ll have to show me the way, I’ve never been here before.”

—-

In her experience, it wasn’t often that reality surpassed expectation, but kissing Henry, being kissed by him, was unlike anything she could have possibly imagined. Under that carefully crafted gentleman facade, which she had tried to chip away piece by piece, she found a passionate, hot-blooded soul of a man who held onto her like he meant it, almost too tightly, and kissed her so deeply and uninhibitedly that she felt like she was drowning in him in the best of ways. Gemma’s senses were in overdrive, felt on fire, so finely attuned to him, and she could swear she felt everything at once - his nose squished against her cheek, his scruff scratching her lips and skin, his fingers splayed over her back, his smooth skin under her finger tips... all these sensations added to the pleasure she felt and was chasing with each slide of her lips against his, added to the fact that she was drowning in him - and for once, she didn’t overthink, just let herself feel, let herself be lost in him and their kiss. And my, she knew that she would remember this for a very long time, the taste of his lips, the warmth of his body, the fluttering of her heart in her chest, which she imagined mirrored in his. It was so very difficult to break away from him, even harder to breathe - it felt like all she needed to sustain herself was his lips on hers, his arms around him - and it didn’t help to look at him, because the sight before her was breathtaking. He was, simply put, beautiful, and she smiled and stole another kiss, and another, unable to stop herself. Her fingers were curled in his hair and she tugged at it playfully, smiled against his lips, nipped on them with her teeth, soothed the barely there welts that were left behind with her tongue. Henry’s chuckle, when she tried to put what she felt in words, had her quirk an eyebrow and shrug, but laugh alongside him, because for the first time in their friendship - flirtationship - he had left her speechless, and she found it all too funny. Being at a loss of words was a new one for her, but she liked it. She liked it, because it was due to him, it was something she had done to him before, and now she knew he could do the same to her. That smirk of his, after she extended her invitation, basically asked him to get naked with her, left her breathless, too, and she was wondering for a brief moment, what else she was going to go without around him. Apart of her clothes, her mind substituted, which left her grinning like an idiot - even in a situation like this she couldn’t help being dorky. Her skin tingled, when he moved closer, another new sensation she would love to get used to, and she was ready to bask in it, when - „What are you doing?“ she squealed, as she was lifted up off the floor and found herself squished against his chest once more. Her arms went around his neck and shoulder for support, because they were both dripping wet and she felt herself slipping, and she wiggled a little to get more comfortable. No one had ever carried her before, not like this anyway, and she found it both amusing and endearing, and she placed a cold hand to his cheek to turn his head and kiss him, just because she felt like it. She liked that feeling - just because - she could easily get used to that. „My bathroom is up the stairs to the right, there’s towels and everything...“ Gemma bit her lip for a moment. In all this lustful haze clouding her brain, she had completely forgotten about someone else, and she felt like somewhat of a bad host to him. „Is Kal going to be all right by himself out here?“ 

---

Henry made sure that he had a good grip on her, despite both of them still being soaking wet. After all, the one thing that would ruin this perfect moment between them completely would be an accident of him dropping Gemma on the floor. Once he was sure that he wouldn’t do that, even by accident, he let her turn his face towards her, drowning in yet another one of the kisses; no matter how quick and small it was, each of the kisses felt like the most wonderful thing he has been missing out on for what felt like a sweet and agonizingly long forever. Henry felt as if he could most definitely get used to this — holding her close, kissing her, feeling her body pressed against his, listening to her laughter, no matter how breathless it would get due to the excitement that moments like these brought to both of them. He felt lightheaded, in the most positive sense of the word. It was her. It’s been her ever since they’ve met each other in this lovely town that still sometimes didn’t feel quite real, due to how beautiful and full of wonders it was. One of those wonders was right there, in his arms, and Henry knew that he would never be able to get enough of her. Right before stepping over the threshold and carrying her inside, Henry stopped in his tracks at Gemma’s mention of Kal. He looked over his shoulder, shaking his head lightly. “He’s enjoying the sun… and your seat apparently,” there was a low, rumbling chuckle that escaped his chest as he watched his dog spread out across one of the sun chairs, panting in the sunshine. “He knows he’s not allowed inside when he’s soaking wet, so… we’ve got some time.” His eyes returned to Gemma then, a wicked glint reflecting in his irises. With those words, he continued making his way across Gemma’s house, carrying her up the stairs and to the bathroom that she pointed out just moments ago. This entire time, he couldn’t help a wide grin that spread across his face. He was happy. He was excited and enthralled by her, by what else this afternoon had in stock for the pair. It didn’t take long before Henry reached the bathroom door. Thankfully, he was able to push the handle with the help of his knee, giving him no reason to let go of the woman he was still holding close to his chest. He didn’t want to let go of her, not unless he really had to. With swift movements, he opened the door and finally let her feet touch the floor again. Out of pure instinct, Henry leaned in once more to steal another kiss from her, his fingers curling at her wet shirt; partly to keep her close, partly to see how far he was allowed to go, how far would she let him go. He was completely under her command, whether she knew it or not, but it didn’t mean that his own naughty thoughts didn’t leave him craving and wanting more. 

—- 

Following his line of sight, Gemma pressed a hand to her mouth to keep from giggling too loudly, and perhaps alerting his big dog, who was stretched out happily on her sun chair. “He’s a seat hogger, I’ll have to remember that,” she commented jovially, her eyes still trained on the pier they had just abandoned. Had they been dry, she wouldn’t have minded sharing a sun chair with Henry, and getting lost in him there, but she was drenched and shivering, and she really needed to warm up and dry off, preferably with his help. “You trained him well, I like that. Just like the sound of having time...” In their business, time was a precious gift, too far and few in between demanding hours spent in preparation as well as in front of the camera - but being home right now, and with the world having slowed down around them, there was ample time to enjoy and explore, to do all the things she had pushed and postponed to later. And there was ample time for her to enjoy his company, most of all, explore him and figure out what made him tick. The cracks in his gentlemanly facade intrigued her, and she wanted to pry them open more and see what laid beneath, what kind of man he was underneath it all. Gemma had had a glimpse just now, felt the unbridled passion and want, and she didn’t think she could possibly get enough right now. Being carried in her own home was such a strange sensation, she hadn’t lied when she said that no one had ever done that with her before, but for some reason, it didn’t feel all that out of place, when it came to Henry. Not to mention that she trusted him not to drop her, being the big, strong guy that he was. All too soon, she felt him shift her, and her feet touch the ground, and she suddenly had to look up at him again, which was a funny sensation, when they had been face to face before. Her eyes never leaving his, she drew her bottom lip between her teeth again, and tilted her head to the side - she didn’t think she would ever tire of taking him in, of losing herself in his blue eyes, which were so unlike her dark brown ones, of tracing the lines of his body... Amusedly, she realised that her fingers had gained a mind of their own, sliding from his neck over his broad shoulders down his chest, a barely there touch, perhaps to figure out whether he was real, was there with her and not just a fantasy of a lonely mind. But he was a warm and hard presence under her touch, and she could feel his heartbeat jump under her fingertips, when she brushed over the sides of his neck. “How are you even real?” she muttered, her train of thought and exploration disrupted by a sweet kiss, which had her smiling cutely at him. How a simple kiss like that could leave her so happy was beyond her, but she embraced it, embraced them - and didn’t try to overthink her, their, motivations. Instead, she leaned into his touch, breaking away from him only to pull her shirt over his head. “Whatever you want to do, Henry, I’m yours,” Gemma told him, eyes on him, open and honest, “I only have two requests - if it gets too much for either one of us, and we have to stop, we stop. And… don’t be gentle. I’m not made of glass and I don’t want to be treated as such.” Hands on either side of his face, she drew him down to her enough to find his lips once more and pour all her feelings into the kiss that followed. She was an open book, and she wanted him to know that. 

---

FIN.

[blurry-fics]

Doubt

Pairing: Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: Self deprecation about weight, angst

Word Count: 1523

Request: Can i request maybe something where the reader is dating Josh, she usually stays home when they go to do tours. she often finds herself wondering if he cheats cause she isn’t there and isn’t exactly the model type and not skinny either. something angsty but fluff? -Anon

Author’s Note: I hope you guys like this one! Also happy one month of Trench 💛

You stared at yourself in the mirror, scrutinizing every little bump and dip. It only took a few moments for you to get frustrated and storm off into the closet. The same oversized sweatshirt that you had been wearing all week was sitting on the floor from yesterday. You picked it up and pulled it on. It was the only item of clothing that you didn’t hate how you looked in, mostly because it hid everything you didn’t like.

Jim followed close behind you as you walked downstairs, looking up at you with his best puppy dog eyes. You had yet to take him out on a walk, mostly because you knew that you would feel extra self conscious the second that you stepped out the door. He looked so cute though. Maybe a short walk wouldn’t be so bad?

He ran circles around your feet while you grabbed his leash from the closet. It was amazing to you how big he had gotten in such a short time. You could still remember when he was just a little puppy, able to fit in your arms.

“Come on!” you called.

Jim hopped up and happily walked out the door in front of you. He led you down the driveway and around the corner without hesitation. It was the same path that you took every time you went on a walk. There had been a couple times where you had tried to switch things up, but Jim always ended up leading you down the same roads. You pulled out your phone and took a video of him sniffing at some brightly colored flowers, Josh would probably appreciate seeing his dog.

Josh.

It had been almost a full twenty four hours since you had heard from him last. That wasn’t unusual, tour always had kept him busy, but your mind never failed to provide worst case scenario explanations. Maybe he had hurt himself at last night’s show and they forgot to give you a call. Maybe the tour bus had broken down in the middle of nowhere and he had no cell service. Maybe he was cheating on you.

Maybe he was cheating on you.

Once the idea had been planted in your mind, you couldn’t seem to get it out. It wasn’t the first time that you had suspected Josh to be cheating, although you never had any solid evidence to support it. Most of the fear came from your own self doubt.

It wasn’t like he would have a difficult time doing it. You were miles away and completely dependent on him and Tyler for updates as to what was going on. Lying was easy when you didn’t have to do it to someone’s face. Not to mention that there was no shortage of girls for him to choose from. Girls that were funnier than you. Prettier than you. Thinner than you.

Why wouldn’t he cheat?

You held back tears as you rounded the last corner before you got to your house. Jim followed close behind you, occasionally tugging at the leash when he found something particularly interesting. You just tapped your foot impatiently and hoped that you could make it to the house before you broke down entirely.

Jim wagged his tail happily as you unclipped his leash and threw it unceremoniously back into the closet. You needed something--anything--to take your mind off of Josh right now. A movie would have to do, at least it would give you a couple hours of peace. Jim also seemed more than willing to curl up next to you and keep you company.

You only made it about fifteen minutes into the movie when all the tears that you had been holding back finally let loose. The movie was supposed to make you feel better, but instead you just ended up comparing yourself to all the actresses on screen. If you looked like them, you were sure that you wouldn’t have to worry about Josh cheating. But you were just you.

Your phone began to buzz and Tyler’s contact photo shined up at you. You paused the movie and took a moment to compose yourself: wiping away snot, drying a few tears, and clearing your throat so that it didn’t sound like you were sobbing. A million reasons as to why Tyler was calling you instead of Josh raced through your mind, but you pushed them aside.

“Hello?” you answered. Your voice sounded weird, but you knew that you could blame it on bad connection if Tyler questioned it.

“Hey, Y/N!”

“What’s up?”

“Long story, actually. The whole reason that I even called was so that Josh could talk to you.” Your heart skipped a beat. “Basically his phone stopped charging yesterday so he was trying to conserve battery but then it died completely and we thought we would be able to get it fixed in town but they said it’s completely shot and he’ll have to get a new one. Anyway, I--or he, I guess--would have called earlier, but I was waiting on a call from the label and yeah, I’ll just shut up and let you talk to Josh.”

“Thanks, Ty,” you giggled.

“No problem. Here he is.”

You heard Tyler pass off the phone. Josh cleared his throat and you felt your heartbeat speed up significantly.

“Hello?”

“Hi.”

“Man, I can’t tell you how nice it is to hear your voice again,” Josh sighed.

“Sounds like you’ve had a crazy 24 hours,” you sniffled.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Hey, are you doing alright? It sounds like you’ve been crying.”

“Probably just the connection,” you said, although Josh’s concern had caused you to start crying again.

Your phone started to buzz again and you looked down to see that Josh was requesting to FaceTime you. If you didn’t answer, he would question it, so you bit the bullet and hit accept.

“Why’d you lie to me, babe?” Josh seemed genuinely disappointed that you had lied, which only piled on top of all the things that had you feeling terrible.

“Because I’m crying over something dumb and I didn’t want you to worry.”

“If you’re crying over it, how dumb can it be?”

“I cried when we got Jim. That’s a dumb thing to cry over.”

Jim perked up at the mention of his name. He must have noticed that you were in distress, because he stood up and began to lick at the tears that were on your face. You scratched his back as he did so.

“Those were happy tears, so what’s going on with you?”

You got Jim to lay back down before you began your story. “I was just…” you paused to take a deep breath. “You hadn’t texted and I was wondering what you were up to and my self esteem was already low to begin with so when the idea of you cheating popped into my head I just couldn’t get it to go away. There’s just so many girls who are better for you than me. Models and musicians and so many other people.”

“Did you really think that I was cheating?”

“I mean, no. Not when I really think about it. But my anxiety just wouldn’t stop forcing the idea on me.”

“Y/N, I love you more than anything. I know you struggle with your self image, but I want you to know that I think you’re perfect. There’s not a single thing that I would change about you. Every night that I’m away, I wish that I was back home with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and if I could bring you on tour with me, then I would in a heartbeat. But you have work and our beautiful son to take care of,” he smiled.

“Yes, our beautiful hairy son,” you laughed, giving Jim a pat on the head.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“And I know you don’t think of yourself as the model type, but man would I pay good money for a magazine with you on the cover.”

“Shut up,” you said, already blushing profusely.

“I’m going to be home before you know it and I’ll be sure to make up for all of the lost time.”

“I can’t wait for you to come home.”

“Me too,” Josh looked away for a moment, obviously distracted by something behind the camera. “Alright, Tyler wants his phone back. Pretty sure Zack is expecting a call from him soon.”

“Ok. Make sure to get that new phone as soon as possible! And have Tyler keep me updated, please.”

“I’ll make sure that happens. Take care of yourself, ok?”

“As long as you do too.”

“I will.”

“I love you, Josh.”

“I love you too, babe.”

You waved at the camera as Josh ended the call. Talking to Josh had lifted a huge weight off of your chest. Anxiety still creeped itself into the back of your mind, telling you that he was lying, but you pushed it aside and focused on everything that you and Josh had talked about. He loved you as you were, and that was enough for you.

[flightyrock]

Laundry Day

Summary: It’s laundry day for a certain pair of half ghosts.  But when Vlad digs deeper than he should, he finds more than dirty laundry, testing the bonds between father and son.

OR

A shameless fluff fic in which Vlad is too hard on himself (as usual), Daniel does his best to reassure him, and Vlad proves he is father of the year material.

Featuring: accidental naps, hugs galore, and rambling internal monologues.

Characters: Vlad Masters, Daniel Masters

Tags and Warnings: Father/son relationships, Backstory, Emotional fluff/pain, Really Long Flashbacks, invasion of privacy, miscommunication, allusions to suicide, hopelessness, fake science, grey ethics, fake medical jargon, dehumanization, Vlad’s special brand of angst, mild body horror, clichéd tropes, happy ending, cuteness

If you’re concerned, feel free to PM me and I will be more than happy to provide a detailed summary or tell you what parts to avoid.  All of the iffy ones, save for the emotional hurt/comfort, only last for a few paragraphs.  Most of them are contained in the flashbacks, which are in italics. But on a whole, it’s father/son fluff and feels.  Be safe!

Word Count: ~10,500

I’ll also make this available on AO3 for your viewing pleasure, since I know some people (myself included) prefer that format better.  But tumblr makes it easier to share, so that won’t be linked for awhile; I’m thinking a week?

Some notes before we dive in, since this is the first fic I’ve written in this particular universe, so there are a few (read: a lot) of things I need to cover.  Explanation and story under the cut!

Update:  This isn’t posting right, so I’m going to remove the links for now.  If this works, I’ll make a separate post with the links.

This fic takes place in what I’ve nicknamed the “Perfect Son AU,” an alternate universe to Danny Phantom where Vlad successfully created a clone, which he named Daniel.  It’s a working title, and someone else might have already come up with something better, but I’m running with it for now.

I did not create Daniel; he was originally introduced as an unnamed character along with a possible future version of Vlad in Butch Hartman’s second “Danny Phantom: 10 Years Later video.” All we’re told is that he’s a mixed clone of Danny and Vlad.

Of course, this premise has tons of potential, and several artists have created content for him.  I fell head over heels for @schnivel‘s interpretation; the designs and characterization are just incredible, and gave me that creative itch. I live for that cute picture of Vlad and Daniel at a Packer’s game.  There are also a bunch of doodles, and the tags provide fun details, hinting at character dynamics and firmly establishing Daniel’s presence in-universe.  The rest of his art is awesome, too; it’s incredibly expressive (facial expressions and body language are always SPOT ON), and he has some really neat OCs, so be sure to check him out!

Schnivel also took the time to chat with me, and answered many of my questions regarding Daniel’s characterization.  Thank you so much!

I discovered that other artists loved this version of the character as well, and during one of schnivel’s discussions with prom during one of @promsien‘s streams, she had the fun idea that Vlad knits Daniel sweaters, and heaven help anyone who ruins one of those.

Needless to say, this (and other details surrounding the fallout) gave me…ideas.  This incident is only hinted at in this fic, which started out as a cute 1500 word fluff piece I thought up on the bus back to school after Thanksgiving break.  But then plot and angst snuck in, and the characters just weren’t quite right, so four rewrites, 9000 words, and about two months later, here we are; the longest piece I’ve ever written.  

Keep in mind that this is just my interpretation of schnivel’s canon, based on details from several sources, so the events described here may or may not have occurred; essentially, it’s a fanfic of schnivel’s AU.

This story takes place after about a year after Daniel’s creation, in the transition period between schnivel’s 16 y/o and post puberty designs.  While not necessary to enjoy the story, I strongly recommend taking a look at these before you begin reading; you won’t be sorry.   Some other quick details to keep in mind:

1.  Daniel is still in high school, and is enrolled in Casper High.

2.  Daniel =/= Danny

3.  Yes, Daniel knows Danny and they do not get along.

4. Vlad and Daniel live together, and share a healthy (and frequently adorable) father/son relationship.  They get along incredibly well most of the time, and genuinely care about each other.  Vlad is finally happy (mostly), and it’s my favorite thing ever.  Do me a favor and do not tag this as ship, please and thank you.

5. Danny is not in this fic, but he is referenced a couple of times; once, confusingly, as Daniel.  (I’m sorry; blame Vlad.)  It’s not mentioned in this fic, but he doesn’t call Danny “Daniel” anymore, for obvious reasons.

Alright, enough notes!  I’ve rambled long enough!   Kudos to you for reading this far; I do think the context is necessary to fully appreciate this story, so if you skimmed, I completely understand, but I urge you to check out the five-point list and links  [sorry guys, removed these to see if they were the problem] above. And remember to check out @schnivel and @promsien.  Thanks, guys!  So, without further ado, enjoy!

“Daniel, laundry!”

The amiable call echoed off the interior walls of a luxurious but tasteful mansion overlooking Amity Park; walls that had changed extensively in the past year.  Previously, the nondescript barriers existed out of necessity, stabilizing the considerable load of the structure and dividing too much space into too many cold, empty rooms.  

One wall in particular, located between the entry and the main staircase, changed dramatically, and now proudly announced to visitors that two shared the space, and quite happily at that.

An eclectic selection of frames housing amateur photographs were mounted artfully in a quantity bordering on excessive.  From this, an outsider could reasonably assume that the curator was either an overly-enthusiastic hobbyist or a new parent.

In this case, both assumptions would be correct.  Indeed, most of the photos focused on a single boy, specifically, a teenager, sporting unique, striped locks and a smile.  

But this wasn’t your average, awkward, get-me-out-of-here, oh-my-god-are-we-still-not-done-taking-pictures-yet kind of smile that most teenagers plastered on instinctively to escape the camera: No, this was a genuine, candid expression of happiness that would make any photographer worth their salt dissolve into blissful tears.  It would have been hard to believe the boy was truly a teenager, if not for the distinctive, almost puppy-like proportions that suggested there was still growing left to do.

He was occasionally joined by an older gentleman wearing a smile of his own; more guarded, but no less genuine.  In these photos, the boy veritably beamed at the camera or the man himself, expression all the brighter in his company, leaving no doubt just who was responsible for cultivating such joy.  Likewise, the boy coaxed the man out of his shell, steadily transforming a shyly quirked corner of the mouth into a joyful grin as the series progressed.

The gentleman in question was currently strolling around the house, dressed casually in socks, slacks, and a button-down.  His sleeves were neatly rolled above the elbows, exposing muscular forearms that strained to maintain an awkward hold on the large basket of casual wear.  His burden couldn’t have been too cumbersome, however, as he took a moment to admire the photo wall, as he always did.

He shifted the basket, clamping it against his left hip with the same arm, freeing his right to compulsively straighten an already perfectly-aligned portrait of the boy, providing an excuse to linger.  

It was one of his favorites; a candid shot he had snagged during one of their first snows together.  He was quite proud of it.  Daniel kneeled on the plush window seat, dwarfed by the dual floor-to-ceiling windows.  His features were alight with childlike wonder and the soft, winter sun, breath fogging the glass as he peered out of the pane, entranced by dancing flakes.  Vlad’s eyes grew misty, recalling cold, damp clothes, laughter, and hot chocolate   His shoulders softened a touch, mouth pulling upward fondly.

The reverie was broken by an uncomfortable burn in his forearms as the basket slipped slowly downwards under gravity’s influence, prompting him to readjust his hold and resume his search.  

It was that time of year again; the relentless heatwave had broken at last.  Residents of Amity Park gave a collective sigh of relief, enjoying cool days and brisk evenings just shy of uncomfortable as summer gave way to autumn.  Full suits were no longer suffocating.  And football season was in full swing.

In short, life couldn’t be better.  There was something invigorating about the crisp, cool air that accompanied the changing seasons, putting Vlad in the rare mood to do some tidying.  Housework was a small pleasure he had rediscovered recently; busy hands left the mind free for reflection, something that Vlad wasn’t as eager to avoid these days.  The reason for this?  Well…

“Daniel!” he called again, perplexed by the continued lack of response from his young charge.  No, his son, he reminded himself, distracted for a moment by the thrill of excitement and anxiety that still shot through him at that thought.  Against all odds, he was a father.  

He savored the feeling as he searched, peeking around the corner to the living room on a whim, and bit back another call.  Warm affection swelled in his chest at the rare and, admittedly, adorable sight.

His son, Daniel, was sprawled lengthwise across the couch, out like a light.  Sleep had hit him hard and fast; the awkward position of his limbs was telling, and looked anything but comfortable.  

A socked foot was braced on the floor while its twin was slung over the couch’s far arm, still trapped in a sneaker, laces tangled from an abandoned attempt at removal.  One arm hung limply to the side, while the other was likely going numb, trapped against the back and beneath the Maddies, who were taking full advantage of their human’s compromised position.  

The opportunistic felines were curled up on the half-ghost’s broad chest, passive-aggressively close to one another, soaking up the warmth.  Like many cats, they managed to radiate smug bliss even from the depths of slumber, much to Vlad’s amusement.  

He really couldn’t blame them.  Naps for Daniel were a rare occurrence, after all; the boy rarely slowed down long enough.

But Vlad had almost forgotten what else autumn meant; school was once again in full swing.  A ridiculous amount of coursework accompanied Daniel’s ambitious class load, pushing the limits of an already-taxing daily schedule.

In addition to coursework, he participated in several extracurricular activities, made time for friends, and dedicated himself to a rigorous training and tutoring regimen of Vlad’s own design. No wonder the boy was exhausted.

Not that he had so much as hinted at fatigue, eager to prove himself.  

Vlad mentally shook his head, pride mixing with fond exasperation.  He had, admittedly, forgotten just how difficult it was to be a teenager (though he thinks he can be excused for this oversight given that it’s been over twenty years since then; twenty long years).  He vaguely recalled expectations to tackle a workload any self-respecting, paid employee would strike over.  

Daniel, like many teenagers, did that and more with only a fraction of useable energy at his disposal at any given time, resources diverted to accommodate the emotional and physical stress the body underwent as it matured.  Puberty had hit Daniel late and with a vengeance.  The boy had been shooting up like a weed lately, the gap between his cuff and ankle widening at an alarming rate (not surprising given the state of the pantry at the end of any given week; the teen had to be burning through massive amounts of energy in the process).  

As his coach, Vlad had noticed he was struggling physically; his center of balance shifted so rapidly he just couldn’t keep up.  Daniel’s frustration was all but tangible at times, face heating with anger and humiliation when he fumbled through warm-ups and drills that had once been simple. Recently, more often than not, he left their practice sessions drained and irritable, shower doing little to dispel a dark mood that carried over into their evening lessons.

Vlad wondered if he was sleeping enough.

Judging from his current state alone, the poor boy needed all the rest he could get.  Vlad quelled a rush of remorse for pushing him so hard, reminding himself that Daniel had set the pace.  

Insisted, really.  He was normally eager, almost desperate, to improve, diving into training with a single-minded intensity that rivaled Vlad’s own.  Daniel had protested furiously when Vlad had suggested they take it a bit easier during the school year, pushing himself even harder.

Vlad chuckled fondly; Daniel was his son, after all.  But perhaps he could persuade him to revise their schedule to an every other day kind of thing; in hindsight, it was a bit ambitious to have lessons and physical training on the same day…

Musing about schedules, he set the basket aside and approached, debating whether the merits of repositioning gangly limbs into a more comfortable position outweighed the risk of waking the boy.  

No, better to let him rest. He was young, after all; he probably wouldn’t suffer from the stiff neck Vlad wouldn’t admit to getting if he slept at the demonstrated awkward though, admittedly, impressive angle.  (His neck definitely did not twinge in sympathy. He wasn’t old.)

He settled for carefully prying off the remaining shoe before unfurling a fuzzy throw that hung over the back of the couch, settling it gently over long legs, careful not to disturb the felines.  They, of course, would have no such qualms about waking Daniel in their subsequent bid for freedom should they be trapped beneath the heavy fabric.

His fond gaze migrated upward upon completion of his task, settling on Daniel’s face, relaxed in slumber. It was a rare treat to observe his son in such a peaceful state, and he was somewhat tempted to take a picture (too bad his camera was in his room).  

Daniel looked so young this way.  The man’s eyebrows bunched, oddly nostalgic as he took in the boy’s strengthening features, an early sign that he wouldn’t be one for much longer.  Soon, soft lines would vanish completely, giving way to the strong jaw and defined cheeks that were already taking shape.  

He would miss these days. Vlad felt an irrational surge of longing and loss, feeling absurdly cheated out of the early years, of a tiny Daniel smiling at him, of endless questions and childlike wonder (which was absolutely insane, considering he didn’t even like children.  There was a reason he’d decided to create a teenaged clone).  But if that was the case, Vlad supposed he wouldn’t be the Daniel he knew now.  It was probably for the best.

He sighed, and ran a gentle hand through thick stripped locks, marveling at the silky softness as it slid through his fingers.  It really was getting long, Vlad thought idly, scratching lightly across the scalp, delighted when the crease between Daniel’s eyes smoothed, and he sunk deeper into sleep with a content sigh.

Vlad lingered for a moment before withdrawing reluctantly, gathering up the basket again with a sigh of his own.  A nap would do the boy good, he reminded himself, so he’d best leave Daniel to it.

Of course, this meant he was back to square one with the laundry.  He was looking for Daniel in the first place to gather his dirty clothes so Vlad could start a load or two before dinner.

Well, perhaps he could still do that.  He could always take a detour into the boy’s room himself.  He was certain Daniel wouldn’t mind the intrusion; after all, he was simply retrieving laundry, so he wouldn’t be there long.

Decision made, he turned back, pausing to empty his basket in the laundry room before ascending the stairs once again to the wing that housed their personal quarters, hesitating for a moment before cracking open the door and entering Daniel’s room.  

It was strange, being here without the room’s main occupant.  He felt a bit like an intruder.  The space was shockingly well-kempt for belonging to a teenager, not that he was surprised; Daniel was hardly your average teenager.  

As expected, his dirty laundry was in the hamper, and Vlad wasted no time in sorting through it.  

Something was off, though. Vlad lived with his son, so of course he noticed that Daniel had started sweater season as soon as he no longer ran the risk of suffering heat stroke.  That meant there should be about two weeks’ worth of ripening knitwear, as none had been sent out recently.  But there were none to be found in the hamper, and, despite the fibers’ natural resistance to sweat and grime, it was certainly time for a wash.

Most, if not all, of Daniel’s sweaters were handmade, knitted by Vlad himself, so required special care.  He supposed Daniel could be keeping such garments separate in a display of caution. Conscientious, as always.  

Not that it was necessary; Vlad only hired the best, and, of course, always ran a brief inspection of the sorted garments before they were taken to the proper cleaning facilities. Details meant everything in his line of work, and his appearance was one of many he monitored personally.  Sure, he was a billionaire, and could afford purchase a new wardrobe any time he wished, but it hadn’t always been this way. He was taught to take pride in his possessions, and waste was unthinkable; far be it for him to neglect his roots.

Shaking himself out of his musings (he certainly was distracted today), he got back to the task at hand; finding the sweaters.  He supposed he could simply wait and ask Daniel during their evening session, but leaving the job half-done would bother him.

Vlad was a completionist to a fault, and knew that if he put this off, he ran the risk of losing his productive mood.  Not to mention the thought of the laundry sitting half-finished would torture him all evening; it would have been better to have not started at all.  And he wouldn’t wake the boy.  But this also toed the line of invasion of privacy.  

He weighed his options, and decided that a taking a brief look couldn’t hurt; he was already here, after all. In such a neat space, there weren’t exactly an abundance of hiding places.

He checked the walk-in closet first.  A thorough search left him baffled by the complete lack of sweaters, dirty or otherwise. He had checked the drawers (meticulously folded), hangers (formal wear was sorted by degree of formality then color), and even the floor (his shoes were lined up so perfectly he put showrooms to shame).

Daniel clearly treasured his possessions, and Vlad felt a rush of pride.  His son kept his space in perfect order, and everything had a logical place.  Except for the sweaters, it would seem.  Which didn’t make any sense.

His frustration grew as he continued to pace the room and failed to find a single one.  He was running out of ideas, and was uncomfortable at the thought of exploring much further.  On a whim, he ducked his head under the bed, admittedly feeling a bit foolish; this was one of the oldest clichés in the book.

But his eyes were immediately drawn to a large cedar chest, a copy of the one he himself used for keepsakes.  He had forgotten the boy had one as well; Daniel had been delighted with the gift, especially when Vlad had shown him the contents of its twin in his private study.

Vlad slid the heavy container out, running a hand across the sanded, weighty lid, hesitating for only a moment before giving in to his curiosity and lifting it before he could change his mind.

Sure enough, here were Daniel’s sweaters.  He let out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding.  Mystery solved.  The quantity bordered on insane, way more than he remembered making, Vlad observed somewhat sheepishly.  What could he say?  He was a stress knitter.  

But he was particularly fascinated with the way the garments were packed.  Despite the large quantity, each sweater was folded with a degree of precision that spoke wordless volumes of care.  Handmade garments often had quirks; small flaws that made each piece unique, making it nearly impossible to pack them away neatly.  Daniel had somehow managed it by treating each sweater as an individual, modifying his folding technique slightly to ensure optimal fit.  Even the dirty ones were carefully folded, and placed on the smaller, right-hand side of the central divider.  It made his closet look sloppy in comparison.

Reluctant to ruin what was clearly several hours of work, Vlad carefully flipped through layers of sweaters, separated with tissue paper, the garments growing smaller as he descended. He was sure most of these didn’t have a hope of fitting Daniel any longer.  

One stood out from the others, though.  It rested at the very bottom of the heavy chest, and was individually wrapped, obscured by many layers of delicate tissue and tied loosely with string.  This deviation from the established system sparked Vlad’s curiosity further, overriding common sense, and before he knew it, he was carefully removing the wrappings.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t this.  

He drew in a sharp breath, unnerved, and delicately traced the ragged edge of a black-rimmed tear with shaking fingers, transfixed.  It extended downward from right shoulder to sternum in a great slice, like it had been severed with a hot knife.  

Bafflingly, someone had also gone to great lengths to attempt repair; the edges were joined with neat, if pointless, stitches.  Only the lack of patching material revealed that this was a rush job.  Admirable effort, but an exercise in futility nonetheless; nothing could hope to fix the charred edges.  

The garment was utterly ruined.  No wonder Daniel kept this one covered so well; it likely brought back unpleasant memories, but the boy clearly didn’t have the heart to get rid of it.

Upon closer inspection, Vlad realized he recognized this sweater.  The vague unease grew into a feeling far more unpleasant.

It was the first one he’d ever made for Daniel, not that he’d known that at the time.  It had been started with his own dimensions in mind, but modified on a whim; gold and green, stitched together with hands bathed in the eerie green glow of the incubation chamber.  

He had been a different person then, twisted by hatred and blinded by his obsession with the Fentons.

Each stitch had been formed in bitter anger, to keep him grounded, patient.  Clicking needles helped to cover up the maddening hiss of the central air system and the relentless beep of monitoring equipment.

He knew at his core that this would be the last plot, his last attempt to take what was rightfully his; should he fail yet again, the fallout would be devastating.  He would be unable to stop himself from giving up, from descending irrevocably into madness.  Because at the end of the day, hate was all he had, his only constant along with his pride. But hatred took energy, and he was tired.  So tired.

Lips curled in disgust as he ran the clumsily-constructed fabric sitting in his lap through his fingers, reliving the turmoil through the record of amateurish mistakes that littered the garment.  Each pucker and twist, invisible to the untrained eye, glared at him accusingly, reminding him of sins he could never atone for.  Made him sick with guilt as they whispered to him, reminded him of a time when Daniel had been merely an “it” and “the clone,” a tool he had every intention to use for revenge.

He was practically living in the dim, sterile, underground room, on standby to respond in a moment should the clone destabilize again.  He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept in his own bed (he kept a cot down here), gotten more than two consecutive hours of sleep, or eaten something more substantial than the occasional protein bar. He carefully refrained from imagining the state of the companies he was neglecting.

But this stage of the project was too unpredictable to leave unattended, the clone’s outline in the cloudy fluid filling the tube bobbing peacefully up and down, blissfully unaware that its existence could end in an instant.  But he wouldn’t let that happen.  He would have his prize.  With a completely obedient half ghost by his side, he would rule.  He had taken no chances, had combined a stolen sample of the Fenton boy’s DNA with his own.  It was his ultimate weapon.  No one would be able to stop him. No one could keep him from his rightful place.

But throughout human history, it is in moments like these that astounding things can happen.  Picture a person building a perfect pyramid, finally reaching the absolute top, standing on that tiny, sharp pinnacle, at the very highest they can go.

It is when we are at this peak, feel the most unstoppable, have the firmest foundation, are the most confident in our convictions, that the smallest breeze can topple us over and force us to rethink the foundations of our self-constructed realities as we fall, force us to shift our reality; rebuild, or cease to exist.  

It is the small things that shake us to the core, that have the power to change us forever.

Be it stroke of luck, fate, divine intervention or pure coincidence, one such moment occurred in that sterile lab when a rare set of circumstances coincided.  The fluid ensconcing the clone ran clear for several minutes, reflex prompted new eyes to flutter open, and Vlad happened to look up.  

And looked into a familiar set of blue eyes that he hadn’t seen anywhere other than a mirror since his mother had passed away all those years ago (he had searched for her desperately after he learned the nature of his transformation, to no avail).  They may have been obscured by fluid, but the shape and shade were unmistakable; they were her eyes.  His eyes. Staring unseeingly back at him.

It was…disturbing, to say the least.  Blame it on sleep deprivation if you will, but he felt his mother’s eyes cut right through him, accusingly, judging him for his behavior in her absence.  Forcing himself to do something he had done his very best to avoid, in a way only she ever could.  

So Vlad Masters took an honest look at himself for the first time in several decades.  

And he wept, because he knew that she didn’t like what she saw, was disappointed in him.  He had known this, on some level; it was why he had been putting off this realization for years.  But, he was surprised to find that she wasn’t disappointed he had fallen so far; no, because she knew and he knew now, too, that he had fallen.  Which meant that he was capable of picking himself back up and hadn’t. He had chosen not to, had chosen temporary comfort over the harder but healthier path.  But he could do better.  He would do better.  If not for her than for himself.

And on that paradigm shift, he rebuilt his world.  The eyes closed.  

And Vlad, with fresh eyes, truly looked into the face of the being he created for the first time.  But dread overtook him when he realized he wasn’t seeing the face of a clone.  No, instead, he was looking into the face of a child.

It took him back to the first time he had met young Daniel at the college reunion, blindsided by an irrational rush of paternal pride and unspeakable longing to get to know this boy, realizing that he wasn’t, didn’t have to be alone anymore. (How wrong he was).

That familiar, fierce longing again surged to the surface, become part of his world once again.  A desire he had buried long ago when the hopelessness simply became too much to bear.

All he had ever wanted was someone to love.

He thanked everything he could think of that he hadn’t started the programming, that is, the brainwashing, yet. And he wouldn’t.  He’d keep the basic learning protocols, so the boy could communicate, have basic knowledge about the world, but nothing else. If he wanted a son, he’d earn his trust and affection the old-fashioned way.  The right way.

But he was forgetting something.  New hope warred with sick dread.  But why? What threatened his happiness now? Because this being he created wasn’t a tool, this was a child.  His child. So still.  So fragile.  

The realization opened the floodgates, and he fought to keep the rush of panic at bay. What had he done!?

Once again, in a display of arrogance and ignorance, he had put someone at risk.  He already cared too much about the boy, was once again on the verge of losing everything. Because the child, Daniel, was dangerously unstable.  He could die.

Vlad couldn’t let that happen.  

For the first time in years, he was truly terrified of the consequences of failure.  Because he wasn’t used to consequences.  In an instant, the project had evolved into a horrible tightrope walk between life and death. He hoped the anxiety wouldn’t kill him first.

It was touch and go for a small eternity.  Vlad lost sleep, hair, and his lunch to far more close calls than he cared to recall.  He was certain he aged about twenty years that month, trapped in a micro-hell of his own design; he still had nightmares about that innocent face devolving into ectoplasm, but awake, screaming in agony from the confines of the tube at a pitch that made his hair stand on end…

Vlad mentally shook himself. No.  He thought about this quite enough at night, no sense in dwelling on it during waking hours as well.  

Preoccupied with the stressful task of keeping Daniel alive, sleeping in the lab even after the boy had stabilized out of sheer paranoia, he realized he was woefully unprepared to care for a child; embarrassingly so.  He panicked when Daniel emerged from the tube, realizing he hadn’t given a thought about basic needs.  Like clothing, for example.  

His “newborn” was freezing; his small frame shook uncontrollably in the thin sterile gown as he was propped upright on a cot so Vlad could monitor his vitals, a pile of medical blankets doing little to combat the chill. The boy was in tears; uncomfortable and confused, agoraphobic and overwhelmed by this strange new world, so Vlad had grabbed the completed sweater instinctively and helped the boy into it, hoping the warm weight would ground him, rambling about inconsequential things to distract from the alarming machines as he worked to reattach feeds and wires.

He cringed; in hindsight, he had risked further overstimulation that way, and the outcome could have been disastrous.  His palms still grew slick with cold sweat, and his blood pressure skyrocketed whenever he thought about everything that could have gone wrong, all the mistakes he had made in those early days.  He cursed his stupidity.  

Vlad shook off his self-disgust in favor of gathering up the old sweaters, having forgotten his original task, otherwise occupied with the chaos of his memories.  They didn’t fit Daniel any longer, so there really wasn’t any sense in keeping them.  

It was embarrassing how amateurish they looked now.  They were an unwelcome reminder of a time when he was at an absolute low.  He just wanted them gone.  Especially that first one.  The marred fabric seemed to mock him.  Yes, better to dispose of it, and bury the anxiety and fear that came with it.

He gathered his legs under him with mild difficulty, surprised to discover he was a bit stiff—he had been kneeling on the floor longer than he thought—and glanced up at the doorway.

Only to lock eyes with Daniel, who stood, gaping, in the doorway, hand frozen in an abandoned attempt to straighten tousled locks.  Tension radiated from his too-still frame, and wide eyes flickered from confusion to shock to panic.

Vlad froze as well, uneasy; he had never seen this look in the boy’s eyes before, and never cared to again.  Sick dread pooled heavily in his stomach as all other thoughts evaporated; he knew without a doubt that something was very wrong.

“Dad,” Daniel whispered, hand dropping abruptly.  “What are you doing with those?”

His gaze lowered, fixed on the pile of sweaters in Vlad’s arms.  Vlad looked down as well, and blinked, bemused by the sudden lack of sweaters there.

Daniel hugged the garments to his chest tenderly, like a young child would cuddle a favorite stuffed toy for reassurance after a scare.  In moments like these, Vlad was reminded of how new to the world the boy really was; it was too easy to forget when he wore the skin of a teenager.

A familiar, irrational stab of loss joined the budding guilt and self-loathing; that strange yearning for early years that never occurred.  

Nostalgia must be a theme today, he thought idly.

Reason returned as he watched Daniel drop carefully to his knees a deliberate distance away to begin refolding the stack.  Vlad’s inquisitive and concerned gaze was studiously avoided as the boy focused entirely on the task at hand.

Careful hands guided handmade fabric into precise creases reverently, deep blue eyes gleaming with a look of concentration so intense, it might have been comical under different circumstances.  If he didn’t recognize the carefully constructed front for what it was.

Upset was an understatement; and despite an admirable effort, Daniel was unable to conceal the slight tremble that made his hands clumsy and slow, an obvious tell that only intensified the harder he tried to hide it.  

Overall, he gave the impression of one who had survived a close shave.  As the shock slowly abated, Vlad’s mental alarm bells became more insistent.  This reaction was a bit extreme, even for someone experiencing the emotional fragility that was part and parcel of an unplanned nap.  Something wasn’t quite right; he was missing some crucial detail.

“Daniel, what…” Vlad trailed off, at a loss, hands reaching toward the boy helplessly, then falling short, uncertain.  “What did I—”

“You were going to get rid of them, weren’t you.”

It wasn’t a question. The words were tight, clipped. His eyes remained fixed studiously downward, even though it was obvious that he wasn’t truly looking at the abandoned sweater in front of him, fists clenched in an a futile attempt to suppress trembling fingers.

Daniel abruptly rocked back on his heels and wiped roughly at his face, shattering the invisible barrier between them, allowing Vlad to finally take action.  He scrambled in his haste to close the gap.  

He gathered the boy clumsily into his arms, and Daniel practically melted into the firm embrace before returning it fiercely, clinging to him in turn.  A striped head filled his peripheral vision, resting its comfortable weight on his shoulder, and soaked the light fabric covering it in warm wetness.

It was unclear how long they remained that way, respecting an unspoken agreement to set aside the circumstances for awhile in favor of comforting another; indulging in the unique security that came from holding a kindred spirit close.  

After a while, Daniel pulled away reluctantly, sniffling wetly and wiping halfheartedly at his nose. Vlad produced a fresh handkerchief and settled into a cross-legged position, facing the teen, waiting patiently for him to collect himself while he gathered his own thoughts.

“I apologize, Daniel,” he began, slowly, when the sniffles had eased, and the boy settled into a similar position, rolling edges of soft fabric anxiously between his fingers as he met Vlad’s gaze.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I know that I am at fault here, but I do admit that I’m not entirely sure what exactly I did to cause you this much distress.  Regardless, I should not have been in your room or searched through your things without your express permission.  I knew better, but I did it anyway.  I invaded your privacy, and for that, I am sorry.”

Daniel maintained eye contact, reddened and puffy appearance doing nothing to diminish the sincerity evident in their depths.

“I forgive you.”

There was no hesitation. The honest declaration mowed through Vlad’s emotional barriers, and his vision blurred as identical blue eyes prickled with tears of their own.  

He bit his lip.  His mistakes had long entrapped him, clinging fast and weighing him down.  Experience taught him that, once made, he would never be rid of them.  This knowledge, this fear, were iron shackles. It was his curse.  But this boy…

Never before had he known such forgiveness.  

Daniel absolutely hated to see his dad cry.  There was just something fundamentally wrong about seeing someone you cared about in distress.  So he was quick to reassure, hoping to fend off the flood and the inevitable interrogation.

“There’s really no harm done.  They’re all here, they’re safe.”

Honestly, this assurance was just as much for himself.  Of course, he would have forgiven Vlad regardless of the outcome; his dad was way more important to him than keepsakes, but this had come completely out of left field.  

He had always been so careful, and seeing his collection spread across the floor had been the last thing he had expected after trudging upstairs to finish his homework before training, cursing himself bitterly for falling asleep.    

He had really only meant to rest his eyes for a second or two, having gone distractingly cross-eyed while undoing his laces, falling instead into the deep kind of sleep that left one feeling fuzzy-headed and irritable upon waking instead of rested.

Daniel looked over at his favorite sweater, the one he had taken the most care to preserve.  As always, fury at the damage was tempered with fond warmth.  He flushed lightly, briefly recalling the circumstances of its repair.

His dad, who had since pulled himself together, followed his line of sight, brows drawing together in confusion, focused on the blackened article.  

“Why keep these?  Most are much too small, and this one,” he pulled the garment closer, “is damaged beyond repair.”

Daniel’s hands twitched instinctively, ready to come to the rescue at any moment.  

Honestly?  The thought of getting rid of them had never even crossed his mind, so he hadn’t.  And he felt much too strongly about the garments to ever consider it.

But his dad was looking at him expectantly, obviously waiting for an answer.  He had no idea how to put his jumbled thoughts and feelings on the matter into words, so he called upon the time-tested art of stalling.

“But you made them for me,” he settled on a basic truth, trying to buy a bit of time as he scrambled, struggling to string his thoughts into a pattern his dad would accept.

“I can make more, you know,” Vlad pointed out reasonably.  “There’s no sense holding on to something that’s outlived its usefulness. At this point, they’re just clutter—”

“They’re important to me!” Daniel snapped, and Vlad blanched, drawing back in shock.  

Daniel’s eyes widened, immediately regretting his outburst.

He didn’t mean to yell at his father!  But that statement hit distressingly close to home.  It was like Vlad wasn’t talking about the sweaters at all.  For a moment, his nightmares were playing out before his eyes…

He forcefully shoved his insecurities to the back of his mind in favor of running damage control; he had hurt his dad, and he looked on guiltily as his father struggled to school his features into a neutral position.

“I’m sorry, Dad!” Daniel rushed to explain, mentally kicking himself for his tone.

“I would never get rid of these.  I just can’t. You spent so much time on them, and it makes me feel cared for, kind of important, you know?”  

He traced the hem of the special one, eyes softening as his face heated up, but he was determined to get this out before he could talk himself out of it.  “Not to mention they’re basically portable hugs.  You’re with me all day this way.”

He hadn’t exactly wanted to give quite that much away.  But if he had to choose between his pride and his dad, his dad would win every time. It was the truth, after all, and he knew he had made the right choice when his dad’s eyes softened, and he was swallowed in his embrace once again.

Daniel had learned a long time ago that his father’s hugs went beyond the physical; they were part of an extensive nonverbal language, expressing what words simply could not.  

Because he maintained a stern public image, a necessity in his line of work, most people didn’t realize that his father was a very emotional man.  Daniel had seen how often he was misunderstood and slighted by his peers (to Daniel’s fury) because they never experienced this.  

For someone who claimed to have little experience in the area of affection, he sure didn’t act like it. Daniel still had no idea how he managed it, how exactly he coordinated the variations of timing and pressure into such clear but complex expressions.  This time, Vlad was conveying relief, awe, gratitude, and as always, more than anything, love.

The guilt intensified, sitting heavy and low in his stomach.  He didn’t deserve this.  He’s such a hypocrite, furious when others fail to appreciate his father, but hasn’t he done the same thing?  Vlad cared so much, almost too much, about other people; he would do anything for the ones he loved, for Daniel.  Anything.  And yet, Daniel was upset because he had tried to declutter.

Of course, Daniel is fully aware that this isn’t exactly the reason he’s upset, but he’s very careful to avoid the thought.  Now is not the time to think about this.  It’s much easier to tell himself he’s simply sentimental.  Nothing else.  

Vlad’s grip tightens almost imperceptibly, seeking reassurance, and Daniel pushed aside the painful train of thought, eager to provide it.  

He returned the embrace fiercely; he loves his dad more than anything, and he was determined to convey this. He knows he can’t hold a candle to Vlad’s raw skill in this area, but that doesn’t stop him from trying.

He must have succeeded to some degree, because he feels his dad relax a bit.  Daniel sighed, settling his head once again onto a broad shoulder, still a bit damp from earlier, and takes the opportunity to burn this moment into his memory, to add it to his collection.  

He savored the slight tickle of grey locks on his upper check, sprung loose from their ties; the pleasant burn of cologne mixed with a scent that was simply Vlad drying his sinuses and coating the back of his tongue; the unnatural heat radiating through his silky shirt, warm and comfortable. For a small eternity, he knows nothing but safety, comfort, and love, and basks in the feeling.  

They eventually break apart and, once again, take a moment to collect themselves before Vlad looks again to Daniel’s favorite sweater.

“What happened?” he ventured, concerned by the implication that someone had attacked his son in human form (and rightfully so), but reluctant to upset Daniel further.

Daniel gathered it up with a sigh, reluctant to delve into complicated memories again.  He began to refold the garment, grateful for the excuse to avoid eye contact as he, fumbled for an answer that would satisfy his father, struck with an annoying sense of déjà vu.

“I took care of it. Doesn’t exactly fix this, though.”

Vlad sighed; he knew that truth all too well.

They kneeled there awkwardly for a moment, neither entirely what to do, caught in that strange limbo that followed any major argument; that period where you tell yourself everything’s okay now, but you know deep down that it’s a lie.  Because the cycle of injury, apology, and forgiveness isn’t some magic fix, and no relationship pops back to how it was before even though the issue has been resolved.  Things weren’t really okay yet, and they probably wouldn’t be for a little while.

Honestly, the invasion of privacy didn’t sting nearly as much as his own insecurities; he’d move on. But would Vlad?

Daniel glanced surreptitiously his father.  Vlad was an expert at the practiced neutral face, but Daniel knew better; his poor father would be beating himself up about this for days.  

Sure, he was still a bit shaken, but nothing had happened.  Vlad was just too hard on himself.  He had been a mess for weeks that time he had broken Daniel’s nose after opening a door too quickly, despite the fact it had healed without a scare in a matter of days. He had hated the way his father had tiptoed around him, hated that tortured look in his eyes as the incident no doubt looped in his mind, on repeat; over and over again.

If only there was a way to reassure his dad that he still had Daniel’s trust, a way to break through his uncertainly.  He played with a loose hem pensively, cursing the circumstances that had led Vlad to rummage through his sweater box in the first place…

Sweaters.  It was so obvious.

He gathered up the unwearable sweaters into a neat pile again.  He was embarrassed by how reluctant he was to go through with this, but if he had to choose between his dad’s happiness and sweaters that didn’t even fit anymore, well…

There really wasn’t a choice at all.

He got to his feet, and hefted the pile (there really were a lot of them), depositing them in his father’s arms.  He smiled wryly as his dad looked down at the pile, bewildered, before raising his gaze and quirking an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Take them.”

Vlad blinked, lips parted slightly to respond, before they shut again.  He glanced to the side, brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to reconcile the large volume of mixed messages he had received that afternoon.

“What?” he asked, settling on the explanation that, somehow, he had simply misheard.

“Take them.” Daniel maintained firm eye contact, staring into blue pools identical to his own.  “You were right, they don’t even fit me anymore.”

“But, Daniel, those are yours,” Vlad sputtered, intelligently.

Daniel smiled softly.

“They were.  But now I want you to have them.”

Vlad looked helplessly at the pile, as if it held the answer to the puzzle that was currently throwing him for a loop.

“But why, Daniel?  You told me you love those sweaters.”

He left his father on the floor and walked to the door, grabbing his backpack on the way.  He’d do some homework at the kitchen table for a while, give his dad some time alone to process.  He paused in the doorway, a melancholy smile pulling at his lips as he gave his answer over his shoulder.

“I do.  But I love you more.”

                                                      ><><

This particular project normally would have taken months; Vlad had it done in one.  But not because he had rushed; no, he made absolutely certain it was perfect.  Nothing less for Daniel.  He didn’t sleep much anyways.

Daniel’s demonstration had the intended effect; knowing he still had his son’s trust even after his mistake meant the world to him.  

It had been a shock, at first.  He hadn’t known what to think when the boy handed his treasured pile of clothing over with barely an explanation.  It had been more difficult than he’d like to admit, allowing his son to walk away after sharing such a sentiment, leaving him on the floor to collect his thoughts. But after the shock (finally) wore off, the implications of the gesture warmed him to the core.  

(He also was trying his best not to dwell on the implication that someone attacked Daniel.  His son.  In human form, no less.  Because if he thought about that for too long, it took him to a dark place.  He trusted Daniel.  He did.  But surely it hadn’t been out of line to investigate the incident himself, not that he found anything, to his frustration.)

By the time training had begun that evening, Daniel appeared to have forgotten all about the incident. To the untrained eye, that is. Vlad had to give credit where credit was due; he had admirable focus during training and finished all his homework, but he’d caught a glimpse of him with the cedar chest out again later that evening on his way to bed; reorganizing.

Vlad truly had no idea the boy was so fond of the sweaters.  He could have kicked himself.  He thought he knew his son so well; how had he missed something so important to him?  Sure, he always beamed and hugged him whenever Vlad presented him with a new one (which may have contributed to the vast number now that he thinks about it, hmm…) but then again, Daniel always thanked him for gifts, equally delighted be it a motorbike or a new toothbrush.

In hindsight, though, the favoritism for knitwear was obvious, in the way his eyes would light up just that much brighter, how he’d wear it the very next day.  And his words…

They’re basically portable hugs.  You’re with me all day this way.

He had replayed this exchange countless times over the past month, the warmth in his chest just as strong as day one.  Never before had he known such happiness.  Such love.

His eyes prickled a bit. It was strange kind of responsibility, to have such a significant role in the happiness of someone else.  He both cherished and feared it in equal measure, terrified he would wake up one day, and he’d realize he’d imagined this whole thing. Or worse, that he would drive Daniel away himself one day, just like every other important person in his life. He’d be alone again.

For years, he chased a mirage of this feeling, feeding his obsession with a woman who would never return his affections, and later, her son.  At some point, he had given up, resigned himself to a lifetime of loneliness and swore revenge instead. He had cursed his failures, then.

Now, he thanked whatever power was responsible for those failures; any “victory” he may have achieved during that time, which now felt like lifetimes ago, would have been a mockery of the affection he craved, a mere taste that would have eventually driven him mad with longing.  Daniel had freely given him what he’d never dreamed could exist.  And it meant the world to him.

He didn’t deserve Daniel. But for some unknown reason, he had decided to stay.  He was the first person who had chosen Vlad above all others, and Vlad longed to show him how much he meant to him.  

He would continue to make the boy sweaters.  Socks. Hats.  Scarves.  Heck, he’d learn how to sew properly and make all his clothes, if it meant this much to him. But one step at a time.

On that note, Vlad put the finishing touches on the piece, feeling the strange mixture of melancholy and satisfaction he experienced whenever he completed a long-term project.  

And to his delight, it turned out much better than he had hoped.  He had conducted extensive research regarding design and technique; it was pretty far out of his comfort zone, and he only had one chance to get it right.  But it was worth it.  Anything for Daniel.

He took a moment to appreciate the fruits of his labor before packing it away with the utmost care.

Everything had to be perfect.

                                                     ><><

Something was up. Daniel’s eyes narrowed as he watched his dad make breakfast.  The change was subtle.  Only someone who saw the man on a daily basis would notice the difference; he was almost twitchy, movements sharp and almost harried as he fixed Daniel’s plate.  

His Dad placed the food in front of him with a quiet “good morning” and a tired smile.  Daniel noted the bruises under his eyes were darker than usual.  Daniel thanked him before focusing on his plate, inhaling sharply at its contents.

Pancakes.  In fun shapes.

Oh no.  It was worse than he thought.

He kept stealing glances at his dad as he ate, watched him worry at the handle of his coffee mug and pick at his own pancakes.  Daniel hated to leave him like this, but really, there wasn’t anything to be done when Vlad was in one of these moods.  And his dad wouldn’t want him to miss school.

If he lingered a bit during his goodbye hug, his dad didn’t comment.  Just bid him to have a good day, like usual.

Daniel tried to go about his day as he normally did, but was unable to shake the concern for his father. They texted as per their habit during his lunch break, in between laughing with his friends, but Vlad seemed a bit…distracted, he supposed.

(His friends could have told him that Vlad wasn’t the only one, but, like all good friends, they didn’t comment, opting instead to respect his privacy, confident that he would talk when and if he wanted to.)

Needless to say, Daniel wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when he crossed the Masters’ threshold that afternoon, hanging his jacket on the rack and shouldering his backpack, anxious to check on his father.

“Dad, I’m home!”

No answer.

He deposited his keys in the dish, and moved through the entryway, calling twice more, trying not to worry when he was met with silence.  

While uncommon, it wasn’t unheard of for Daniel to get home before Vlad.  But with the mood his dad was in that day, he was on edge.  Normally, he would text Daniel when he was working late.

Daniel sighed, running his fingers lightly along the wall of pictures as he made his way down the hall and up the staircase, deciding to distract himself with a bit of schoolwork while he waited for his dad to get back.  He hoped he was alright.

Daniel deposited his backpack beside his desk, taking a moment to kick off his shoes before pulling out his phone to text his dad, making his way over to sit on his bed, glancing up to check the height (his muscle memory wasn’t the most reliable these days; he was running into furniture and walls so often that his dad often joked about childproofing) only to stop short.  There was already something sitting there.

It was a box of medium size, just short of being too large to hold comfortably with two hands, wrapped simply but neatly in white paper.  Resting on top was a light green envelope, with his name inked in gold in a familiar hand.

He furrowed his brows, perplexed, and set aside his phone to pick up the envelope.  Unless he was very much mistaken, this was a present from his dad. Strange.

Not that surprise presents were an unusual occurrence; on the contrary, his dad loved giving him gifts, much more than Daniel enjoyed receiving them.  The quantity had been truly ridiculous at first.  It took a while for him to convince his father to relax, admitting that while he appreciated the thought and attention, he felt guilty that he was unable to reciprocate.  So they had compromised, agreeing to save gifting for special occasions.

Of course, Vlad pushed the boundaries of this rule, but it made him so happy to do nice things for Daniel that the teenager didn’t have the heart to call him out.  As long as he didn’t go overboard, Daniel had decided he could live with the occasional surprise.

He picked at the flap of the heavy paper envelope.  

But, unlike any other time his dad gave him a gift, he wasn’t here.  Daniel knew from experience that the real fun of gift-giving came from watching the recipient’s reaction.  

And his dad’s absence was clearly intentional.  Vlad was a master of presentation; the private location combined with the open and inviting position of the box and envelope was not coincidental.  Not to mention his unusual absence from the house at large.  And no audience meant no pressure, no need to control his reactions with the feelings of other in mind, free to be himself.

Which meant it was a gift intended for Daniel and Daniel alone.  He was touched.  And intrigued.

He finally managed to get a thumb under the tight seal, prying the glue apart slowly, careful to leave the envelope intact.  He pulled out a sheet of simple off-white stationary, revealing a message in his father’s distinctive hand.  

Daniel chuckled a bit; for someone so detail-oriented, his handwriting was atrocious.  He sat down, and began to read.

Dear Daniel,

I apologize for violating your privacy and your trust about a month ago.  I have no excuse.  I allowed my curiosity to overrule my common sense and overstepped your boundaries.  Worse, I used this knowledge to impose my will when it was neither wanted nor necessary, failing to respect your space, and by extension, you.  I am sorry, Daniel, for this, and any similar past missteps that I failed to recognize.

I cannot promise you that something similar will not happen again; I promise to try my best, but as much as I pretend otherwise, truly, I have no idea what I’m doing.  You are the first person I have shared a space with in over twenty years, and those past examples did not end well.  Despite my best efforts to the contrary, I successfully drove away everyone close to me.  I hurt people.  I’d like to think that I’m a bit wiser now, but I know that’s not entirely true.

To be completely honest, I’m terrified, Daniel.  You are my only son.  I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hurt you as well.  And I did hurt you, that day.  Others have left for far less.

Imagine my surprise when you forgave me so easily.  I simply couldn’t believe that it could be that easy.  You know that I trust you, Daniel, but you have to understand that years of evidence to the contrary are not so easily ignored.  

And then you decided to prove that there were no hard feelings; you gave the subject of my betrayal back to me, as a sign of good faith.  Your prized possessions.  Given freely.

I suspect you don’t have any idea clue how truly special you are.  So selfless, so kind.  If I hadn’t had such an involved role in your creation, I never would have believed that you were my child.

So thank you, Daniel.  Thank you for being you.

Daniel blinked back tears, taken aback by the forthright nature of the letter.  It was just so honest, so Vlad that he wasn’t sure if he should shake his head or cry.  Honestly, he was a bit disappointed; he had thought that his show of trust with the old sweaters had been enough to assure him of Daniel’s sincerity, and relieve him of guilt.

He loved the man, but it killed him how stubborn he could be.  He didn’t need to apologize again; Daniel had been tired that day, and overreacted, reading farther into the situation than he should have.  They were just a bunch of old sweaters.  This was his dad.  Why couldn’t his dad see that?

He decided to move on, rubbing at his eyes, unable to suppress a snort at the next line:

Now, because I know you, I’m certain that unlike every other teenager in existence, you read the card first. So do me a favor, please; open up the box before you read the rest.

He shook his head.  No one knew him like his dad.  He’d worry about the implications of his predictability later.

For now, he took the box into his lap; it had heft, but wasn’t heavy, per se.  He turned the package over, searching for the seams, and methodically pried tape away from the wrappings, careful not to tear the paper, savoring the anticipation.

He set the paper aside, and grasped the lid of the oversized white cardboard clothing box, prying it away from the bottom half, and brushed aside green and yellow tissue paper.  His hands began to shake.

He was greeted with something familiar, yet new.  He traced the old knit pattern, yarn soft from wear, but freshly laundered.  He tried a couple of times to lift the bulky block of fabric from the box, but it was packed tight, and he was unable to find purchase.  So he gave up and turned the box over onto the sheets instead, then unfolded its contents, eager to see the piece in its entirety.  He gaped.

They were all here. All of his old sweaters, the ones that he had given to Vlad that day.  The ones that he reluctantly put aside one by one when he could no longer slip into their warm embrace.  He had mourned the loss of the memories that went with each one, resigned to enjoy them as mere keepsakes.  

He didn’t regret giving them to his dad, but he had missed them.

Here they were, but not as they were; the torsos had been divested of the sleeves and divided in half down the sides, former front and back forming large patches that were sewn methodically onto an oversized sheet of ultra-soft fabric.  Parts of the sleeves had been repurposed into artful borders to separate individual sweaters.  The construction had been stuffed lightly, and formed a type of quilt.

Overall, the effect was stunning, striking a perfect balance between respect for the past and celebration of a new era.  

As far as he could tell, every salvageable part of his collection had a place.

In the middle, framed like a piece of art, was the front of his favorite sweater.  His first one, complete with mar and repair job.  He traced his friend’s handiwork reverently, taking a moment to reflect before taking action.

He arranged the quilt on top of his comforter, admiring the personal touch it brought to his space.  He itched to burrow under it immediately, but he knew better; there was no way he’d be able to avoid falling asleep right now if he was that warm.

It was, without question, the most thoughtful gift he had ever received.  So much time and care had been poured into this.  He had no idea how his dad had managed to organize the diverse collection into the aesthetically-pleasing and functional piece of art resting on his bed. He felt a rush of concern for his dad.  When had he found time to sleep this month?

With a jolt, Daniel remembered that he still had half a letter to read.  

He bit his bottom lip, conflicted, and decided to take a calculated risk; he burrowed socked feet under the quilt and shimmied down to his hips, sighing in delight.  The warm weight was unbelievably comfortable, and his feeling of nostalgia only intensified with contact. He had missed this.  His dad’s voice colored the rest of the text.

Life is full of change.  I often did my best to resist it, believing it could bring only pain.  You have taught me that this isn’t always the case.  Change can bring pain, but it often brings benefits as well.  Especially when it brings about growth.

Take your sweaters for example. You were, and still are, incredibly fond of them, despite the fit becoming uncomfortable as you outgrew them.  To continue to grow unhindered, you had to take the small sweaters off.

You’ll continue to grow in many different ways.  I look forward to seeing who you will become.  

But you will find that you will outgrow more than old sweaters in the course of your life.  Mindsets, routines, places.  At some point, you’ll realize that they’re no longer as comfortable as you remember, but moving on can be hard.  

When you reach the point of no return, Daniel, you must promise me you won’t linger.  Trying to fit into that “old sweater” again, as tempting as it is, will only bring you pain.

I regret to say I speak from experience.  I was stuck, for many years, trying to fit into my own “sweater,” denying the restriction because it was all I had.  I was stuck, longing to change my circumstances, but unwilling to release my hold on the “then” and embrace the “now.”  

It was painful, to say the least. I wallowed in anger for years, refusing to share blame, placing it fully on the shoulders of my friends, pushing them away.  Then I wondered why I was always unhappy and alone, with only my dark thoughts to keep me company.

I was still that person when you came along.  No hope, intent on using you as a tool for revenge and conquest.  But you were greater than I ever dreamed, far more than I could ever hope: A person.  My son.

It terrified me; you were too good for this world, too good for me.  And I was ashamed, thought myself unworthy to be your father, terrified I’d ruin you. That I’d fail you.

Please don’t make my mistakes.  Make your own.  Grow.  Live.  

Let this quilt remind you that it’s okay to remember the past, but not to dwell on it.  With some imagination, your memories can grow with you.   The past has its place, but life can only continue when you let go.

You taught me this, Daniel.  Let me return the favor.

And no matter what else in your life may change, you can rest easy with the knowledge that I will always be here for you, for as long as you’ll have me.

I am so proud of you, son.  I can’t wait to see what kind of man you’ll become.  

I love you.

-Vlad

An ugly mix of tears and snot streamed unchecked down Daniel’s face, dripping off his chin onto his shirt, arms carefully outstretched to preserve the letter.  

Sure, parts were a bit embarrassing. And sad.  But while his dad expressed his love often enough verbally, it was a different experience altogether see it in writing.  It felt more authentic, somehow.  Perhaps it was the deliberation that was required to record such a sentiment on paper; completely separate from the heat of the moment.  Sincere.

Today had been a roller coaster of emotion, from pancakes to quilts; he was exhausted.

When he first slid under the blanket, he had thought he’d never want to get up, reminded of his dad’s embrace.  But now, he found himself longing for nothing less than the real thing, confident he knew where his dad had been hiding under the circumstances.

In his haste, he elected to phase out from under the quilt, pausing only to set the letter carefully on his desk before phasing through several walls into Vlad’s private study.

Sure enough, there he was. Daniel barely registered that the man was staring blankly, hunched over an old photo album before it was lost from sight as he released the transformation and buried him in a hug from behind, over his shoulders and the desk chair.

Vlad tensed at first, so lost in thought that he hadn’t heard the boy come in.

“Thank you,” Daniel whispered.

Vlad relaxed, closing the book before turning around with a tentative smile.

Daniel let go, and Vlad stood so he could hug his son properly.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading!  I hope you had just as much fun as I did writing it!  I’m pretty new to writing fiction (I normally write research papers), so I’d appreciate any feedback you’d be willing to give me.  Feel free to point out any mistakes or oversights!  Overall, I’m really happy with how this turned out.  I guess fifth times’ the charm and all that.  I was concerned about the pacing being too slow, so I’m curious to see what you guys think.

I’m also open to requests!  Feel free to hit me up.  I have a few more shorts planned in this universe, namely, the story of how Daniel’s favorite sweater was damaged and an, admittedly, crack-ish short where Vlad and Daniel react to the sketch that started it all (Vlad commissions a family portrait, but has mixed feelings about the result); but after that, nothing’s planned, but I do have a couple of vague ideas.

Thanks for reading!

[quicksilversquared]

The Haunted House

The class is thrilled to be able to use an abandoned house in Paris as the set for their next class film- or, rather, they're thrilled at first. Once they arrive at the house, they're bombarded with one strange occurrence after another, making them wonder-

Is the set of their film actually haunted?

(very minor and very vague reference to a S2 spoiler near the end)

(FF.net) (AO3)

No one knew for certain why the house stood abandoned. It was certainly an oddity in metropolitan Paris, where space was valued and used so conservatively to fit in the most people possible. The city owned the house now, since the previous owner was so long gone that no one quite knew who they had been or what had happened to them, and while there had been more than a few efforts made to sell off the house either to private buyers or companies that would either renovate the house or raze it to the ground in favor of building apartments, or maybe a store or townhouse, every single one of the efforts had fallen through. Sometimes it was because the prospective owner suddenly went bankrupt or got a job offer elsewhere; sometimes the paperwork just got misplaced and forgotten. After a while, the city just straight-up forgot about the house and stopped actively trying to sell it off.

Either way, it was enough to give the house a bit of a reputation. There were whispers about the house being haunted- why else would an otherwise nice house stand empty and unused for so long?- even though there were no reports of anything strange happening there. There were no weird noises, no flickering lights, no ghostly figures wandering the halls or standing in the windows, but a sense of mystery clung to the place like spiderwebs.

"It looks haunted," Alix commented as the class stood in front of the building. Not everyone was there, of course- Chloe and Sabrina had managed to get a different project to work on, since neither of them had any interest in doing any filming in an old house that was no doubt buried in dust and cobwebs, and Mylene and Rose had both decided to contribute to the project by bringing over snacks mid-day and assisting Nathaniel with his set-painting in his family's apartment, far from the creepy building. Much to everyone's surprise, Adrien had been allowed to come and had eagerly bounded up to the set of their next class project film dressed in old clothes. Everyone suspected that his father probably didn't know where he was. "Why are we here again?"

"Scared already, Alix?" Kim taunted, though he had just been giving the house a few uneasy glances of his own. "I'm not surprised. A ghost could come pick you up and carry you off without a problem, you're so small. See, I actually have muscles to fight off any ghosts."

"I'm not so sure that muscles would do anything against a ghost," Adrien murmured in a low voice to Marinette, Nino, and Alya. "If ghosts were even real."

"Careful, you're gonna tick off some ghost enthusiast and make a ghost-raising akuma," Nino joked. "And believe me, this house does not need any help looking creepy."

"We're here to shoot our film," Marinette reminded everyone before the conversation could devolve too much into a discussion of how creepy the place looked. "It's a much better location than shooting at school and trying to pretend that we were in an abandoned house. It was..." Here she grimaced, knowing full well that she was- well, not lying, but exaggerating slightly. "It was very kind of the mayor to offer to let us use this house for our project."

Alix snorted. "Yeah, it was kind of him all right. Are we already forgetting that part of the deal was that we have to do a bit of cleaning once we're done? He's taking advantage of our free labor to try to fix up this mess so that he can sell it and the city can stop having to pay for taking care of it."

"We don't need to do a super-deep cleaning. It won't be that bad," Alya pointed out. The reporter had been looking forward to getting in the house ever since Marinette had presented the opportunity to the class. "And think about it! Maybe we can figure out why this place has such a reputation. I know I want to take a ton of photos for my blog."

Kim frowned at her, looking puzzled. "The Ladyblog? Why would you want pictures of a haunted house on the Ladyblog?"

Alix elbowed him and rolled her eyes. "She meant her personal blog, idiot. Not the Ladyblog."

"But speaking of the Ladyblog, does anyone have Ladybug and Chat Noir on speed dial in case something weird happens?" Nino asked, half-joking, half-serious. "Because, like, I don't want for our scary film to actually turn into a horror film or something. We'll get disqualified for the film being 'not believable enough' again."

"It'll be fine," Alya said confidently, pulling the keys out of her pocket and striding forward. "After all, how creepy can one house possibly be?"

   The answer was, in fact, very creepy.

While there had been someone coming in monthly to do cleanups when the house initially was on the market, they hadn't visited in quite a while. Cobwebs stretched across the ceilings and doors, and dust covered every surface. Adding to the creepy factor was the fact that all of the furniture that had been brought in for staging had been left behind, some pieces covered with once-white dust sheets.

The class stuck very close together as they cautiously explored the house.

"Ooh, the roof definitely has a leak," Alya said in disgust as soon as they reached the second floor and peered into one of the bedrooms. The ceiling had a large, dark stain and the room smelled decidedly musty. "We should probably tell the mayor about that. They won't be able to sell the house if it's got a ton of water damage."

"I think the water damage is the least of their worries," Nino said darkly as he inspected the room. "This is creepy."

"It's rad," Juleka said happily as she floated around the room. "...oh, I think there's some mice in here."

"Okay, we are not using this room," Alix said with a disgusted shudder. "And dibs on not being the person who has to clean this room once we're done filming."

Kim perked up and smirked at her. "What, are you scared, Kubdel? Scared of a couple miceies?"

"It's not exactly very hygienic," Marinette said before Alix could respond and slow them all down with another argument. She stepped into the room and gently steered Juleka away from the squeaking cushion on the couch. "So it's probably better if we don't use this room very much. I'll text the mayor- well, his secretary, at least- and see if we can get a professional out here to take care of the mice. But then let's get started filming, okay?"

   Much like the city's attempts to sell the house, their film project seemed cursed.

Camera batteries died. Pages of the script went missing. Doors slammed on their own and filming had to pause while everyone went to investigate. The water faucet started dripping on its own, despite the fact that water to the house had been turned off for ages. The light from the sun randomly faded and came back throughout the day, even though there were no clouds outside. The battery-powered lights they had brought in for filming flickered. Props went misplaced and showed up in strange places.

"I can't wait to get out of here," Ivan said as soon as they finally finished a scene. "This place is weird."

"I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation," Marinette insisted, though she hadn't let Tikki wander from her jacket pocket at all. She told herself that it was so Tikki would be available in case there was an akuma attack, but in reality the kwami provided at least a little sense of security. She was doing the best she could to keep everyone calm so that filming wouldn't be delayed even more than it already had been. "Maybe we're just being more jumpy than usual because this place looks creepy. A placebo effect, you know?"

Ivan didn't look convinced. Neither did anyone else. Kim and Alix had taken to glancing around the room nervously every few seconds.

"At this rate, we're going to have to come back for two more days to complete filming the house scenes, and then several more for cleaning," Max announced from the folding chair that he had brought back after he ran home to print off several more copies of the script. He insisted that it was just because he didn't want to sit in a chair that was possibly moldy or infested with mice or bugs, but more than a few others suspected that he didn't want to sit in something that was possibly cursed. "And then we still have the outdoor scenes to do, and we haven't even explored the backyard to see if it is suitable for out outdoor scene yet."

"We also haven't looked in the basement," Marinette added, flipping through the script. She hadn't let go of it since Max handed it to her since the previous time she had set a script down, she picked it back up to find that the back half of the pages were missing. "That's the set for another scene."

Alya froze. "Nuh-uh. Nope, no way, we are not going into this place's basement. You can't make me."

"Adrien, do you think we could borrow your bodyguard for a day or two?" Alix asked. She didn't look like she was kidding. "Because there is no way I am going in that basement. Nope, nuh-uh, not happening."

"I'll ask." Adrien looked just as unnerved as the others. "I'm sure he'd be willing to come. He's not really doing much anything when I'm at school or over here."

"But for now, let's get back to filming," Alya announced. She pointed to Adrien and Ivan. "Back on set, you two. You'll be coming out of the kitchen door. Marinette, adjust the curtains. And Alix, are you ready with the sound effects?"

"Speakers are plugged in and ready to go!" Alix announced. "Ready when you are!"

"All right! Take one, the agents take shelter. Three, two, one, go!"

There was a pause, and then the kitchen door opened and Ivan and Adrien came in, both in raincoats that Juleka had just spritzed with water. Adrien carried a similarly wet umbrella.

"This place looks like it should be a good shelter!" Adrien announced, setting his umbrella down. He glanced around, like he was seeing the place for the first time. "It looks like it's been abandoned-"

"CUT!" Nino called. "Guys, I can see the kitchen from here. It's obvious that you haven't just come in from outdoors, so I need to move to a different angle. And Alix, I just changed my mind on when you need to start playing the rain sounds. It would make more sense to have them going from the start of the scene, since Adrien and Ivan are already wet when they come in."

"You got it, boss," Alix said cheerfully.

"Back in position for take two!" Nino instructed. He had to wait for Juleka to do her spritzing again. "All right, take two. Three, two, one-"

CRASH!

Everyone jumped at the sound of the thunder rumbling out through the speakers on full volume. The lights flickered, then steadied as the thunder tapered off and was replaced by deafening rain. Alix scrambled to turn the volume down to a more reasonable level.

"I thought that was just a rain track," Nino said a bit weakly from the chair he had fallen back into. A cloud of dust had poofed up and surrounded him the second he had sat. He coughed a few times to get the dust out of his throat. "And I thought we had done a volume check earlier. Holy cow."

"I do like the thunder, though," Marinette chimed in as another rumble echoed out from the speakers. "It adds atmosphere. And if we could get a flash of light, too, like lightning..."

Adrien nodded in agreement, then grinned. "We could use that big flashlight Kim brought for the flash! Where did you leave it, Kim?"

Kim looked up from where he had been inspecting the microphone he had been holding, making sure he hadn't damaged it when he startled at the thunder. "Oh, the flashlight? It's behind that couch, I think."

"All right then, scene from the top again," Nino said as Marinette went and got the flashlight. "Alix, rewind to the start of the recording. And Adrien, Ivan- wait until the thunder goes for several seconds before you come in, okay?"

Both boys nodded and left the living room again. Nino checked his angle, then counted them down again. Thunder boomed, flashlight-powered lightning flashed, and two soaked agents entered the room and started discussing the case they were investigating. This time the take went perfectly, though the thunder and "lightning" flashes were sometimes a little off, since Marinette wasn't entirely positive when the thunder was going to roll. No one would notice, though. Probably.

"That's a wrap for this scene!" Nino called, grinning. "And it's almost dinnertime, so let's pack up and get out of here. Can we meet back here at the same time tomorrow?"

Everyone nodded as they rushed around, collecting the things they had left sitting on the covered couches and tables. More than a few people looked relieved as they filed out the front door into the sun.

"That was super-strange," Marinette said as she and Alya locked up the house and headed for the Dupain-Cheng bakery. "I could have sworn the rain track Alix had was just rain sounds earlier."

"I think you were right earlier, about the atmosphere of the house making us overthink everything," Alya said with a laugh, but she didn't look entirely convinced. "But I do hope Adrien's bodyguard is there tomorrow for the basement scenes. He'd probably counteract all of the creepy vibes the house is giving off."

"If he doesn't tell Mr. Agreste and get Adrien banned from doing the project," Marinette pointed out. "Hopefully he wouldn't, though. He seems nice enough."

"Yeah." The two of them fell into silence for a few minutes as they strolled down the sidewalk. It was nice being out on the bustling street after hours of being in the creepy, closed-off house. "You know, I know we were all disappointed that Mylene didn't want to be lead actress again, but it's probably for the better. She would have been too spooked to film."

Marinette shuddered thinking about it. If filming Agent Smith and Agent Jones had taken forever just because of Ivan's monster costume, their current film probably would have taken at least three times as long. Alya was right; it was probably better for Mylene to help out with the film by assisting Rose with snack delivery.

"Tomorrow will probably be loads better now that we've gotten used to filming again and have new batteries and whatnot in everything," Marinette said, trying to sound more reassuring than she felt. She had been positive that Max and Kim had said that they had gotten all of the equipment ready before they started filming anything. "It will be fine."

   "I have a bad feeling about this."

"It's just water damage," Marinette insisted through clenched teeth as the rest of the class stared nervously at the dark stain on the basement wall. Adrien's bodyguard stood at the back of the group, looking as unconcerned as ever. Unless he was worried, she refused to freak out. "Look, the window has a huge crack in it. I bet the water just got in through there."

"Marinette is right. I can see some mold on the wood." Adrien had been the only person brave enough to venture closer to the stain, but even he wouldn't touch it. Instead, he took several careful steps back, turned around, and flashed a slightly forced smile at the rest of the group. "So, are we going to set up?"

"I brought extras of everything today," Max announced, pointing at his overlarge backpack that had clearly been stuffed near bursting. "We should be good for batteries today, but just in case..."

Everyone nodded. It was best to be overprepared today, so they wouldn't have to stop filming to go run home and grab more supplies. That had been a huge time drain the day before, and they were already going to be spending their entire three-day weekend at the creepy house. They didn't want to have to come over after school as well to get the project done on time.

"Alix, you set up your speakers while Alya and I get the other props in place," Marinette instructed as she started unpacking her own bag. "And remember that the rain would be quieter from downstairs."

"On it." Alix was already digging through her own bag, though she kept glancing back up at the stain on the wall and she made sure to set up as far away from it as she could without getting in the way of where they would be filming. Kim and Max set up next to her, assembling the sound equipment and getting the camera tripods unpacked.

"Juleka, can you make sure that Adrien and Ivan are all ready?" Marinette called as she moved a small table into place. "We'll be ready to start in a few minutes." She glanced over at Alya, who was arranging a small braided rug on the floor. "So far, so good!"

"Shh! You'll jinx it!" Alya hissed, reaching out to knock on the table leg. She glanced over to where the Gorilla was watching the proceedings with something resembling interest. "It definitely helps that he's here, though. It's nice to have another set of eyes."

It didn't take long before the cameras were rolling again. Adrien and Kim had apparently both memorized quite a few of their lines the previous night, which meant that they didn't need to pause as often to check on what they were meant to be saying. Everyone relaxed as the filming went smoothly, which meant that no one was ready for the huge BANG! from the stairwell, followed by their lights flickering and almost going out.

"No one move," the Gorilla ordered over the sounds of their screams, and then he was jogging up the staircase to investigate. He didn't have to go far, though, before he found the source of the noise: a shutter that had come loose and was waving in the breeze. It had apparently banged shut rather hard. They all waited for several tense, nervous minutes as the Gorilla headed outside to fasten the shutter again.

"I'm gonna have a heart attack before this is all over," Alya whispered to Marinette as they waited. Then she frowned. "Isn't it kinda odd that the shutter would come loose now? No one has been to this place for ages, which means that it's been latched for months without a problem, and it's not even that windy outside."

Marinette frowned as well. That was odd. Her hand went to her purse, just to make sure Tikki was still there. "Maybe it has come loose before and the neighbors have come over to shut it. They probably don't want to listen to it banging around all the time."

Alya didn't look convinced. Marinette didn't blame her. She wasn't entirely convinced herself.

"Do we need to restart the scene, Nino?" Adrien asked, looking simultaneously tired and nervous. Ivan had grabbed onto his arm when they heard the crash and he had apparently forgotten to let go. "Or can we salvage some of it?"

Nino frowned and rewound his camera so he could watch what he had. After a few seconds, though, the frown cleared off of his face. "Actually...I like this. I'll just erase the screaming right after the bang. You two, ad-lib a little bit and then get back on the script. I'll change the camera angle so you can't tell that you guys moved at all."

Alya laughed. "You're just rolling with the punches, aren't you?"

Nino shrugged. "Say what you will about how creepy this house and all the weird things that happen in it are, but it sure does add more atmosphere to our movie." He checked the cameras to make sure they were set up right. "...but I won't lie, I will be super-glad when we finish up here."

"As long as we keep going, we should be able to finish up all of the indoors scenes today, and then we can move outside tomorrow," Marinette said, consulting her script. She had been checking off the scenes as they were recorded, so they wouldn't miss anything. "And it's supposed to be a bit rainy tomorrow, which is perfect. We'll just need to remember umbrellas for the equipment."

"And hopefully we can persuade some of the others to come join us for that one," Alya added. "I think Rose said that she'd be fine with coming as long as she didn't have to go inside."

"Same for Mylene," Ivan added.

"So that's decided! We'll be outside tomorrow if it's rainy, regardless of whether or not we finish up in here," Marinette said, making a note to text Rose, Mylene, and Nathaniel to let them know. "Are we almost rea-"

She was cut off by the sound of loud, thumping footsteps from overhead. Everyone froze and their eyes turned to the stairs as the heavy steps drew closer, closer, closer-

-and then the Gorilla appeared, looking very, very puzzled about why they were all staring at him.

Everyone burst into laughter. They were too wound up if they had all forgotten that the Gorilla was in the house. There was no reason to be paranoid.

   "I am so glad that we're done filming inside," Alya sighed as she and Marinette rounded the old house. True to prediction, it was raining lightly and the rain was predicted to continue for the rest of the day. They wouldn't need the entire day for filming, thankfully- there were only two scenes that they needed to do, and then their film would be complete- but in case anything weird happened...

Marinette shivered.

The second day of filming had gone better than the first, for sure- they averaged only two retakes per scene- but weird stuff still happened. Lights went out all at once, leaving them in the pitch dark until Kim yanked out his flashlight and went to work replacing batteries. Alix's speakers cut out several times. They all swore up and down that the floorboards upstairs were creaking, even though all of them were in the same spot. They all freaked out as one when the man that the mayor had sent to take care of the mice arrived and knocked on the front door. The strung-out, nervous expressions that Adrien and Ivan wore as they acted were only partially faked. If it hadn't been for the presence of the Gorilla, Marinette doubted that people would have stuck around to finish filming.

She could only hope that the Gorilla would be able to come next weekend, when they had to clean.

"Hey, everyone's already here," Alya commented as they rounded the corner. Sure enough, set-up had already started, though it was slower than usual since things had to be covered by an umbrella and couldn't be set down on the grass. Mylene and Rose were each holding a giant umbrella as Kim, Max, and Nino got tripods set up and the sound equipment adjusted.

"Ooh, poor Nathaniel's backdrop is going to get ruined," Marinette said mournfully as she watched Adrien and Nathaniel attach the painted sheets to the fence. The sheets all depicted a rainy countryside, with farmhouses dotted off in the distance. They all would have preferred shooting in the actual countryside, of course, but it would have been too much work to get all of them out there and find a good location to shoot. The slightly cramped backyard of the maybe-possibly-haunted house would have to do.

"Well, he knew that we were going to be filming in the rain," Alya said with a shrug. "That's why he used the old bedsheets. They'll dry out."

"Yeah, but..." Marinette watched as the boys nailed the last sheet on and then started working on attaching the sides and bottom so that the sheets wouldn't flap around too much. "There's just so many of them. I don't think his family's apartment is big enough to dry everything at once."

"Problems for another time," Alya said cheerfully, and then they joined Juleka, who was making sure that the long black raincoats that Adrien and Ivan would wear were in good shape and ready to be switched out for the boys' normal raincoats.

"This movie is gonna be rad," Juleka said cheerfully as she stepped away from the coats. They looked a little wrinkly, just like what one would expect secret agents' coats to look like after they had been on the run for several days. Whether or not that was intentional or a happy accident wasn't entirely clear.

Alix nodded in agreement. "Yeah. But I don't wanna come back to this house again after this is all over." Her eyes flicked up to the house, which looked even more imposing and haunted than usual in the gloom. "Too much weird stuff happening. I'm surprised that Adrien is still able to come, what with everything that's been happening."

Marinette was surprised, too. The Gorilla had looked rather relieved to leave the previous day, which she had seen as a bad sign. But maybe he had figured that things would be more normal outside, or maybe he would just feel bad about pulling Adrien out of the project that late in filming.

Marinette briefly wondered what they would have done if Adrien hadn't been allowed to come for that last day of filming. They wouldn't reshoot all of the scenes, of course- they would have to be completely desperate to do that- but maybe they would have Juleka or Nino fill in as a body double and just hide their face with the collar of the rain jacket and a brimmed hat, and then record Adrien's voice and add his lines in later. It would have been hard, probably, and it probably would have taken a ton of takes to make sure that they didn't accidentally have any of Adrien's body double's features showing.

Yeah, it was definitely a good thing that Adrien's bodyguard apparently hadn't told Mr. Agreste about any of the strangeness that was going on.

"I had to get new recordings to play for today," Alix announced, waving her ipod at them. "Less of the rain itself, since we already have that, and more thunder and some wind."

"Great! I wouldn't have thought about that, Alix. Good job." Marinette glanced up at the sky. The rain was steady but not heavy, which made filming more pleasant. She frowned as she realized that the rain was making a loud pitter-pattering noise against the fabric of the umbrellas. The microphones would definitely pick that up, and it was just a bit too loud to pass off as rain against tree leaves. Still, they didn't want to get their equipment wet. They would just have to deal with the slightly out-of-place noise.

"Okay, I think we're ready to start once Adrien and Ivan get their coats!" Nino called, getting everyone's attention. "Places, everyone, and make sure that everything is under an umbrella!"

As it turned out, filming outside was much harder than filming inside. It wasn't the rain that was the problem, though none of them were particularly happy about standing out in the damp cold. No, the problem was with the amount of outside noise that they were getting. It was less than what they might get on a normal day- people were staying inside more than usual because of the rain, of course- but sometimes they would get partway through a shot only for a dog to bark loudly, or for a woman to loudly call a greeting to a friend on the sidewalk in front, or for a car to go zipping past with the radio blaring. Each time, Nino would roll his eyes with exasperation and call for a cut.

"Professional movie makers don't have to deal with this nonsense," Nino muttered grouchily as they set up take fifteen. "These are ridiculous working conditions."

"Professional movie makers also don't work out of random abandoned houses' backyards," Marinette pointed out as she headed over to help Nathaniel re-attach one of his background sheets. They were coming loose at a ridiculous rate, probably because the wood of the fence was so rotted. "They cordon off areas so that they can have closed sets."

"I don't even want to know how much cleaning we would have to do if we wanted to ask the mayor to do something like that," Kim said, grimacing. "I already don't want to do any of it, but I guess we promised and all."

"Yeah, we definitely couldn't afford it." Nino adjusted his camera carefully and then ducked over to the other camera to make sure it was still running. The storage cards were getting worryingly full, but he had brought his last set of backups just in case.

He was going to have to do one hell of a lot of picking through video and editing when all of this was done. Nino didn't normally consider himself superstitious, but he hadn't wanted to bring along the half-filled cards that he had used the other days, just in case.

"From the top again!" Nino called, stepping back from the camera. Really, he was starting to think that they should just piece together several takes of the scene and get on with it, but it wouldn't have the same effect and he would have to jump between cameras crazy often.

This time, the run went perfectly. Nino breathed a sigh of relief as he signaled the end of the take. Alix paused her ipod and set it aside, looking relieved. Finishing that scene meant that they were halfway done for the day.

"I could use a bit of help with the backdrops!" Nathaniel called as he wrestled another set of sheets forward. In seconds, Kim and Max were by his side, trying to hold the sheets in place. Adrien looked like he was considering helping for a few moments, but then Ivan pulled him towards the relative dryness of the umbrellas.

"You look like a drowned rat, dude," Nino informed his friend with a laugh as Adrien towel-dried his hair. Really, it was a good thing that the hat Adrien was wearing hid his hair from the camera so well, because otherwise it would look strange if Adrien's character had hair plastered to his scalp in the first scenes and then it magically dried and re-styled itself as soon as he set foot indoors.

"Thank you, I do my best," Adrien said dryly. He shoved his bangs back out of his face. "So, how much longer-"

CRASH!

Everyone jumped and spun around in time to see a dead branch from the tree in the backyard sliding off of the roof and onto the ground, dragging a handful of shingles in its wake. It wasn't large, thankfully, and the roof didn't look too damaged, at least from where they stood. Kim and Max had had to move quickly to keep from getting hit by the branch as it tumbled to the ground.

"Wow," Juleka breathed, approaching it cautiously. "Cool!"

"Thank goodness all of our interruptions today are just normal stuff," Nino said with a somewhat shaky laugh. "I don't kno-"

CLANG! Chk-chk-chk-

There were several muffled screams as the sound of rattling chains filled the air, and everyone swiveled around to try to pinpoint the source of the sound. Adrien jumped a foot into the air and ended up clinging to Marinette as his eyes scanned the yard. Alya backed up quickly and nearly ran into Nathaniel, who was holding out his hammer in defense as he swiveled back and forth nervously. Mylene had completely frozen up under the umbrella she was holding.

Chk-chk-chk-chk-CHK-

"Is that- is that the speakers?" Marinette asked from the safety of Adrien's arms. She had turned more than a little pink from the contact but had otherwise managed to remain (somewhat) calm. "Alix?"

"No, it's not-" Alix started defensively, and then she inched a little closer and frowned. "Oh. Wait. Yes, it is, but I don't have anything like that on my ipod and I paused it earlier, I swear!" She knelt down by the speakers and cautiously reached a hand out to grab her ipod. She paused it, and the spooky sounds came to an abrupt stop. As everyone untangled themselves (Adrien startled slightly when he realized that he still had his arms wrapped around Marinette and he backed off promptly, apologizing nonstop while Marinette turned an even darker shade of red), she glanced at her ipod screen and then frowned. "Hang on- I don't remember ever uploading this! I don't have anything in my iTunes library that is called 'chains'."

There was dead silence for a few moments, only broken up by the sound of the rain falling heavier now, almost at a downpour.

"Let's just...keep filming," Nino said, looking slightly freaked out. "Last scene, and then we can get the hell out of here."

   Saying that no one wanted to go back to the house the next weekend was the understatement of the century.

"Can we just pay the mayor for the use of the house and be done with it?" Kim asked as the group stood in front of the building. He and Alix had long since come to a mutual (and silent) agreement that neither of them was to tease the other about the house making them nervous. "Seriously. I will put my entire allowance for the month towards something like that."

"I think the going rate for house rentals is perhaps a bit more than any of us can afford," Max said, though he didn't look happy about it. "And so would the rate for hiring professional cleaners."

They all fell silent again for a bit, staring at the house (did a curtain just move, or did they just imagine it?) until Adrien broke the silence with a sigh.

"How about we all just work in pairs?" he suggested. "And then have several pairs per room. Then no one is working by themselves or has the chance to accidentally sneak up on anyone else. Cleaning is more fun with a friend, anyway."

"Groups didn't exactly stop the creepy before," Alix grumbled, and more than a few people exchanged glances. But there was no real argument, and so people started to pair off and ever. so. slowly. head for the door.

And thus began one long day of work.

It didn't help that everyone was jumpy. Squeaky floorboards would make people freeze, thumps as people occasionally dropped things resulted in muffled screeches, and the windows rattling as the wind blew against them made people sit up and stare. The groups of two more often than not became groups of four as they forged on, gathering dust covers to shake clean outside and sweeping dirt and dust alike into piles and then scattering it again accidentally when a creaking door made the sweeper jump. Brooms and mops propped up against the wall toppled over for no apparent reason, and windows blew open after being locked shut for years.

"Okay, seriously, who's the one messing around with the windows?" Marinette called once it happened for the fifth time. "I can appreciate the fresh air and all, but it's blowing our dust piles around and we're gonna have to remember to close everything once we're done."

Silence.

"The practical side of me says that someone's just playing a prank and doesn't want to admit it," Adrien said, reaching around Marinette to pull the window shut again. He checked the latch twice before stepping back. "There's no other reasonable explanation. But I don't think anyone in our class is that good at acting. Unfortunately."

Marinette frowned. "You don't really think the house is haunted, do you?"

Adrien looked a little uncomfortable. "I'm a firm believer in science...but it can't explain everything. Ladybug and Chat Noir exist, so why not ghosts? Or some sort of imp or something. You know, like a leprechaun, but not," he tried to explain when Marinette only looked puzzled. "Something playing tricks on us. Nothing that's happened really had a threatening feel to it, more just...impish." He had had to check more than a few times to make sure that Plagg hadn't left his jacket to run amok through the house. His kwami had owed up to messing with the batteries for the lights once, but he had claimed that anything else would have been too much work. Adrien believed him; after all, Plagg had been safely napping in his coat pocket during most of the other oddness that had happened. Plagg had also refused to say what had been causing the strange noises, though he had a distinctly mischievous look to his face while he reused to talk. That alone made Adrien suspect that there was probably something magical at work, though not at all dangerous. Plagg would have said something if it were.

Or at least Adrien hoped so. Plagg enjoyed watching situations get messy, but only when they weren't inherently dangerous. Watching Adrien embarrass himself seemed to be one of Plagg's favorite hobbies (besides eating cheese, of course). Watching Adrien get hurt...well, Plagg didn't like that so much. He always scolded Adrien for stupid blunders during fights that could have gotten him badly injured if it weren't for the powers of the Miraculous protecting him. Surely he would say something if there was a malevolent spirit flitting around the house.

Marinette chewed on her lip and, for some reason, glanced down at the purse that hung at her hip before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, maybe you're right. That doesn't make it any less weird, though," she added as she reached for a broom that had toppled over even though the handle had been firmly wedged between the wall and the ancient fridge. Somehow it had fallen straight outwards into the rest of the room. "I'm glad that we're almost done. It's not the greatest cleaning job ever, but it'll do. Especially since I doubt the mayor will remember about this place for more than five minutes after I give the key back to him."

Adrien smothered a snort. That sounded very like the mayor. It was very likely that the longest the mayor had spent thinking about the old house was when Chloe was throwing a fit about not wanting to go into the house because it was gross and spooky. From what he had heard, Mr. Bourgeois had gone into the principal's office to wrangle a separate project for Chloe (and Sabrina, because Chloe can't work alone that would be punishing her for her sensibilities and allergies to dust and mold-!) and had ended up coming back to Chloe with the "great news" that she and Sabrina would simply get to do their "very own film project!"

Chloe hadn't been thrilled by that- neither she nor Sabrina were particularly good with coming up with a good storyline, acting, or doing basically anything else that making a film would require- but she either had to do it or accept a zero on an assignment. Adrien had gotten more than a few furious texts from her complaining about problems that had popped up with her own project. He hadn't told her anything in return about the creepy stuff happening to the rest of the class.

"Hey, d'you want to hear about some of the texts I got from Chloe?" Adrien offered as Nino and Alya entered the room again, empty dustpans in hand. It would make the time go faster and maybe take their minds off of the increasingly weird house for the few hours they had left to work. "She's freaking out about having to do the project with just herself and Sabrina."

Nino snorted. "Of course she is. She didn't want to do any work at all." Then he paused. "Aw, heck, I won't even try to pretend that I don't want to hear about how much trouble she's having. Let's hear it."

   The tales of Chloe's misery got them through the last two hours of banging doors, creaking floorboards, windows flying open, buckets mysteriously overturning, and even the light from the sun outside mysteriously flickering and getting darker, even without clouds in the sky overhead. They snickered at the truly terrible plot Chloe (or, more likely, Sabrina) had come up with as thunder rumbled through a sunny, cloudless sky and muffled giggles at a tale of editing failure while several doors slammed throughout the house. They were still giggling when a very disgruntled Alix (flanked by a very on-edge Kim and Max) came in to inform them that green goo had started dripping out of the kitchen sink down below.

"If our class president and vice-president have any suggestions, let us know," Alix finished through gritted teeth. "Because I am not cleaning up creepy green goop."

"Uh, just ignore it for now, maybe?" Marinette suggested after sharing a frantic glance with Alya. When Miss Bustier had told her what she was expected to do as class president, dealing with a potentially haunted house was not on the list. "Uh, how much is left to do?"

"Are we doing the basement?"

"No," Marinette decided. That room creeped people out the most, and it wasn't that bad anyway. There was no furniture in there to collect dust and there was nothing they could feasibly do about the water stain. "That and the room with mice in it we aren't doing."

"Then we're almost done," Alix reported. "We just have the counters left to wipe down- but I'm not gonna go anywhere near the green stuff."

"Just leave the green stuff be," Marinette said with a sigh. She couldn't even begin to guess what kind of gunk the house was churning out now, and she really didn't want to know. "I'll go check on the other groups."

Alix grumbled something that might have been assent before she thundered back down the stairs, Kim and Max on her heels. Marinette sighed and set her broom aside. Their group had honestly been cleaning the same section for ages, which really wasn't a good example to be setting, but they had all gotten a little distracted. "I'm going to go check on the other groups. Alya, want to join me?"

"I'll send Adrien with you instead," Alya said with a grin, ignoring the surprised look Adrien sent her way. "We need to finish up here and I don't trust him around the cleaning supplies."

"I resent that-" Adrien started, only to be cut off by Alya's laugh.

"Adrien, you didn't know how to sweep correctly when you got here," she pointed out, hands planted on her hips. "You got dust everywhere. And you didn't know how to wash windows, and you just admitted ten minutes ago that you've never done laundry before. So excuse me if I don't trust you and Nino to not make a mess of this room if we leave you unsupervised for ten minutes." She pointed towards the door. "Go help Marinette check on the other groups. Shoo."

They shooed.

   A quick ten-minute run through the house found that all of the groups were cleaning up, and most of them had done a relatively good job cleaning.

Well. Kind of.

"We're not going near that corner," Ivan told Marinette as Juleka nodded her agreement from behind the larger boy. "Whenever we do, the floorboards scream. And then the light from the windows flickers. It can stay dirty."

"I'm still not going near the sink," Alix told Adrien several minutes later as another glob of green goo dripped from the faucet. "I don't care if it's just algae or something that's suddenly decided now is a great time to spurt from the sink. It's weird."

"The chains rattle," Rose told them as they checked on the progress of the group cleaning the front porch and weeding the yard. "On the swing, I mean. And there's no wind. It just swings on its own and makes weird noises. None of us want to sweep that part of the porch. The swing might decide to try to hit us or something."

"That's fine, Rose," Marinette told her, patting her shoulder to try to calm the wide-eyed girl down. "It's probably not all that dusty out here, since there's the wind anyway. You guys can start cleaning up."

"Oh thank god," Nathaniel said fervently, and Mylene nodded in agreement. "I thought we were going to be stuck here all day."

"It has been pretty much all day," Adrien pointed out as he and Marinette turned to head back into the house. "It's nearly four-thirty, and by the time everyone cleans up, it'll be nearly-"

He stopped dead. There, in the front room, everyone was waiting. Buckets had been emptied and piled up and then stuffed into the large box to carry. Brooms were lined up along the front wall, ready to be carried back to their normal houses. Rags had been wrung out and stuffed into a bucket. Soaps were stuffed into another bucket, all ready to be carried away. Trash bags were tied tightly and piled near the front door.

"-time to go," Adrien finished weakly.

"Never underestimate the power of a creepy house to make people move quickly," Marinette muttered back, equally taken aback. She had thought that it would be another fifteen minutes at least before people were ready to go, but apparently not. Fear really was a great motivator. Her eyes swept over the group and yep, everyone was all there and accounted for, minus the group still finishing up outdoors.

A clattering interrupted her thoughts, and Marinette turned around to see the trio that had been outdoors all standing on the porch, all packed up and ready to go.

"Okay then," Marinette managed, blinking at them in bemusement for a moment before shaking herself out of it. "Right. That's everyone, then. Ready to get out of here?"

Kim let out a short whoop, a grin finally spreading across his face as he led the charge for the door. "Finally. I was starting to think you would never say that. C'mon everyone, let's go!"

  As the group left the house for the last time, no one noticed a small orange head poke out of a bag and peer around. The mischievous kwami glanced back at the house she had caused so much havoc in, unable to help the smirk that slid across her face. It had been too much fun to mess around with the group by making funny noises and messing with their equipment. After being asleep in her Miraculous for so long, it was just too much to resist.

Ah, pranks. They really were the best thing since the invention of chocolate-covered strawberries. Trixx could already tell that she was going to have so much fun this time around.

Ladybug and Chat Noir could wait a few more weeks to meet their new teammate, Trixx decided as she sunk back into the depths of her Chosen's bag. They were doing well enough on their own right now, and she still had a good few pranks she wanted to pull on her new Chosen before she revealed herself properly.

She could barely wait.

[crimsonrevolt]

Congratulations Liz you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Molly Weasley!

↳ please refer to our character checklist

I’m so happy you decided to reapply for Molly, Liz, and give yourself a fresh start! I think what came across the most in your app was Molly’s passion, and I absolutely loved seeing that side to her. So often we know of her as simply the mother she is in the books, but your para sample showed how she’s truly someone who goes after what she cares about and is fiercely determined. So excited to see what you do with her and how you develop her further! *your faceclaim change to Sarah Drew has been accepted!

application beneath the cut

OOC

Name/Alias/Pronouns: Liz

Age: 25+

Timezone: CST

Activity: I have been garbage but I think with a fresh start that I will be a solid six or seven.

Triggers: *removed for privacy

How Did I Find You? The promo blog. I follow Molly in the tags and I have missed playing her something fierce and I was in search of a solid place to play her.

In Character

Full Name: Molly Fae Weasley nee Prewett

Faceclaim: I would love to have Sarah Drew considered because she just has something so Molly about her to me, and I think that she fits within the Prewett sibling look. If you don’t agree though, I am happy to use Emma Stone

Birthday: October 30, 1949

Why Molly Weasley: I love Molly Weasley. Which perhaps seems like an obvious statement considering I'm applying for her, but nothing could be more true. I think that she is fierce, full of flaws, while being the embodiment of family, warmth, and love. I think she’s developed a bit of a bad reputation in parts of the fandom, but as a wife and mother myself, I feel like I really connect with even Molly’s flaws. Being a mother turns you into almost a new creature you hardly recognize and certainly sometimes you seem quite the contrary creature, but at the heart of it all the only thing that matters is your family. Beyond the personal connection, I feel with Molly I just feel like she’s an anchor in this war and in the second war, but I think that being that anchor takes it wear on a person.

Sexuality: I am absolutely a Molly/Arthur shipper. However, I also am not opposed to pre-Molthur relationships if the chemistry is right, but for me, Molthur will always be endgame.

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it: Oh Merlin! One spell? That is so difficult there are so many options, but  I think for sure it would be a tracking or locator spell. There have been far too many people missing these days and if I could just have a way to know where they are even when they aren’t where they are supposed to be would be the most useful.

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you: If I’m going deep in the forest there’s only one person I want with me and that’s Arthur. Between the two of us, there’s nothing we can’t face down.

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make? Decisions that I know have the possibility to create a ripple effect. Decisions for myself are simple, but when it can affect my family or the people who I love it becomes more complex and complicated.

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you? I would never want anyone to say that I didn’t fight for what was right. I am on the right side of this awful war and no matter what I will see it through because we have to fight for what is right.

Extras:

Mock Blog: http://mock-molly.tumblr.com/

Wand: Rowan, Unicorn Tail Core, 10 ¼

Rowan wood has always been much-favoured for wands, because it is reputed to be more protective than any other, and in my experience renders all manner of defensive charms especially strong and difficult to break. It is commonly stated that no dark witch or wizard ever owned a rowan wand, and I cannot recall a single instance where one of my own rowan wands has gone on to do evil in the world. Rowan is most happily placed with the clear-headed and the pure-hearted, but this reputation for virtue ought not to fool anyone - these wands are the equal of any, often the better, and frequently out-perform others in duels.

Order of the Phoenix: Molly can feel the world around her changing, she knows that it is becoming less safe with each passing day, and she finds this to be completely unacceptable. Never has Molly been one to sit on the sideline and let life happen to her. The fact that she has small children is only more of a driving force behind her desire to be a part of things and make a difference. She is determined to make this world a better place for her children and her siblings. She may not be the one going out on missions, but she provides a safe house, meeting space, an ear to bed or just a cup of tea, sandwich and a baby to hold.

Boggart: Molly’s boggart is never consistently the same person. Always the person who is on her mind with worry the most. It is always the same scene through Arthur on the floor lifeless and dead. Or one of brothers. Even one of her children. Despite having mastered the incantation at school since she’s graduated and lost her mother she is almost always incapable of vanquishing the boggart on her own.

Patronus: The panda is a resourceful animal, and those with it as a patronus are the same. They are good at using whatever is around them and incredibly creative and bright. They are friendly and warm, and many may go to them for advice or help, which the panda will willingly give. They are a bit of a healer by nature, enjoying company around them and using it to enhance themselves. They love to explore many areas of knowledge and the world, trying to broaden their horizons and keep their minds open. They can be very spiritual people, but will not push their views on others, as they are comfortable with whatever a person chooses to believe.

Writing Sample:

September 2, 1965

A water balloon exploded on the side of Molly’s face and the outrage was out of her mouth before she could stop it. Her wand was out to settle the score it may not be her most mature move, but she was suddenly drenched and furious. The fire was blazing from her eyes as she searched the horizon for the culprit. As he came into view he, at least, looked sheepish about the mistake. Pointing to his mate laughing about ten feet to the left of Molly’s spot under the tree. Explanation and apology or not a girl who lived with Gideon and Fabian the charm to soak him in the same fashion was on the tip of her tongue. She knew it would sound absolutely ridiculous but something shifted inside of her. The fury was replaced with butterflies even though she narrowed her eyes more to make up for the sudden shift. She couldn’t put her finger on it in that moment. It was only, Arthur Weasley, after all,  they’d been in the same house for the last four years she’d been at Hogwarts. In classes together, and while she had never disliked him the truth was that she had never paid much mind to him. There was something about the sunshine in his hair or that lopsided smile on his face or how his laugh carried through the space between them, or no, it was certainly the way he was playing with his hair nervously. He certainly wasn’t her first crush, but there was something different about him. He apologized quickly, even pulling his jumper over his head to offer it as a towel for Molly to dry off with.

While she’d refused the sweater using a drying spell instead cringing a little inside at what drying her hair with wool would make her hair look like. He’d certainly never see her the way she was him if she dared to let him see that frizzy mess. She had offered him a seat on her freshly dried blanket under the tree, and a cookie from the tin her mother had sent her. It may not have been love in that moment, but smitten was a bit of an understatement. On Molly’s behalf at least, Arthur hardly seemed to notice her more at all. She angled things with Slughorn and convinced him to put her at Arthur’s table during potions and she might have “accidentally�� run into him more than usual, and while a warm friendship started to develop he never seemed to catch onto the crazy crush she was developing on him.

Molly decided that there was no greater moment to be the one to step up and take the bull by the horns than just before they were all headed home for holiday break. So when mistletoe happened to magically appear above Arthur’s head with all the fake confidence in the world and several flocks of butterflies in her stomach she was the one who stepped up and kissed him as if he was going to enjoy it as much as she would. She felt like every eye in the Great Hall was on them when she took a step back and whispered “Happy Christmas.”  She had seen it all in her mind’s eye the slacked jaw look that was on his face her triumphant walk back down the Gryffindor table to her spot near her friends. It had all gone exactly as planned in her mind until she was suddenly pulled back from her triumphant walk away. Her feet were sliding out from under her and she thought she was going to fall on her butt until she felt a pair of arms around her preventing her fall and pulling her back to Arthur. “You can’t just walk away after that.” Molly felt her heart melt inside her chest at his words as she met his eyes with hers.

[wildlyhardphilosopher-blog]

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[lefthanded-sans]

Hey there. So, since you finished the game, tell us: what's your general opinion on Mass Effect Andromeda? I'm one to be skeptical on reviews, but you seem to be a big fan of the series as well!

There will not be too many explicit spoilers until below the Read More cut, though there *will* be general references to events. My few generic spoiler comments regard angaran history, the climax, and one of the ark missions.

Hey there! ^.^ I admit I’m fairly skeptical about random reviews as well; what the general populace or a critic believes about a game is not necessarily how I will assess it. I also feel as though lately, the video game community has become more picky about game quality, and consequently I feel as though lots of opinions sound unfairly nitpicky, harsh, demanding, unrealistic, and ungrateful for what a game positively offers. I have admittedly intentionally steered myself clear of the main host of Mass Effect: Andromeda reviews, especially once I found out that lots of those reviews seemed to harp with the same sort of ungrateful decrying that Mass Effect 3 received (a game which I find overall downright brilliant, emotionally impacting, memorable, and beautiful - even if I understand the ending controversy). I’m not inclined to believe negative reviews for a company that tends to repeatedly produce quality stories, adventures, and worlds… I’d rather listen to friends’ opinions who can make judgments calibrated closer to how I would feel about the game. So yeah, I think I get you, and I’m more than happy to provide my own perspective on this game! 

My overall perspective is that Mass Effect: Andromeda is an enjoyable game I found worth playing. I would not call it as good as the original Mass Effect series, but I would still call it a nice addition to the Mass Effect universe. I might not recommend it to all individuals, but I don’t believe that this game is a fail in any way, shape, or form. I genuinely like it and believe, as a fan, that it was worth receiving.

The Mass Effect series is my favorite video game series of all time, and I probably know the lore too well, fan over the characters too hard, and play the games too much. The reason for that is, while the games are not perfect-perfect and there are areas I could critique, they also are astounding in their character personalities, character arcs, overarching plot arc, emotions, dramatic action, inspirational moments, creativity, visuals, and more. The main Mass Effect trilogy is an amazing story through and through on so many levels, doing so many things right it’s unbelievable; I rarely ever find other games that can hold a candle to the extraordinary caliber I received from Shepard’s saga.

So Mass Effect: Andromeda was always going to be compared with a pretty high expected bar. I knew that, going into the game, it might not have the same caliber as the trilogy, but that it also could have the same caliber. Either way, I told myself I wouldn’t get upset over it… ME:A provided me a means to return to a wonderful sci-fi setting I adored, and that was already something to value. I wouldn’t hate on the game if it didn’t turn out to be the same amazingness as ME 2.

I don’t think Mass Effect: Andromeda is as good as the original trilogy. It’s “okay” compared to the others. There is a notable game play difference between military-oriented Shepard and exploration-oriented Ryder, but even with that mood difference, comparison-wise the original trilogy is still obviously stronger. Some of the main things that I noticed are weaker about Andromeda are:

1. The story line flow is not steady and gripping. Dare I say it, but ME:A would do MUCH better with fewer hours of game play. Players are required to do so many insignificant side quests that the urgency and growth of the main story line gets lost, confused, obfuscated, and diluted. It doesn’t feel as though there is enough main story line in proportion to all the exploration I have to do on Eos, Kadara, Havarl, Elaaden, H-047C, Voeld, Aya, and Khi Tasira. Furthermore, because I was diluted doing so many humdrum, not-that-exciting tasks, it didn’t feel as though the story was exactly building. There were, rather, spurts-and-starts of excitement whenever I returned to the main story line, but I will admit that when I was entering the final mission, it didn’t feel like the story was ready to climax. There had not been a sufficient build-up to a climax. The story line flow was very awkward and inconsistent, not to mention it felt “watered down” compared to the monument of small chores I had to do elsewhere.

2. And speaking of those small chore tasks, those did tend to get boring. They’re not bad if you binge-play the game; I got Elaaden done in basically a day and a half, so that didn’t feel like it dragged on. But if you don’t play five hours a day, it’s very easy to feel as though work on a planet drags on. Havarl and the search for Mithrava was infuriatingly slow; I felt pretty ready to be done on Voeld about halfway through the tasks I needed to get done on Voeld. I know the shift to a more exploration-based game means that I am going to wander around many planet surfaces, but there was not enough action or central story to counterbalance all the sidetracked meandering I did. There were plenty of times I could have lost interest in the game and quit playing (but I didn’t because it was Mass Effect, and screw it, I was getting to the ending). And all the times I had to adventure into Remnant vaults felt way too rote a task and repetitive. 

3. There was too much emphasis on the kett, Remnant, and angara compared to the original Mass Effect species. Maybe this is just me, but I wanted to have more time interacting with my salarians and turians and humans moreso than I wanted to talk to two hundred thousand angara. The angara were interesting and I am happy to see new species introduced - they should be introducing new species - but it felt as though there was a disproportionate time spent on them. I found myself most enjoying the missions and locations where I had good, solid contact with Milky Way species. So, I had more fun on Elaaden, Ark Paarchero, and Kadara than I did on Voeld, Eos, and Havarl.

4. There was not enough explanation of the Remnant. There is a difference between not divulging all the secrets of an entity and not giving enough explanation of an entity. Unfortunately, the handling of the Remnant was the latter. I was confused about what the heck the Remnant was while I was on Eos. It took multiple conversations with characters for me to get a grip on something that should have been more clearly introduced. Now, the Remnant were set up to be unknowns, and I know we’ll learn more about them in future games, but from the start to the end, I could have done with… more… explanation of the Remnant. We still were left with unknowns about the Protheans by the end of ME, but we didn’t feel as though we were lacking sufficiency about our contact with Prothean technology and ruins. The Remnant, meanwhile, felt like both something I was getting too much game play time of, but simultaneously not enough sit-down-and-clearly-discuss-lore moments. How conversations on the Remnant were organized (in side quests, slowly leaking info, and not as much emphasis on big revelations in the main story) made it feel lacking, even though, technically, we talked about them a lot. There was an insufficiency of information, establishment, and development. The complete lack of explanation for how the Remnant alter planetary ecosystems, what the different Remnant bots do, how the Remnant works… it was too much. They were meant to be an anomaly, but they needed some grounding. 

5. There were some weird clashes with original trilogy lore. These are small things, but to fans like me, the clashes do grate. Most of these things can be resolved with a little explanation power and hand waving, but I still wish they had been avoided. For instance, it felt odd when the krogan talked about egg clutches hatching… while not an outright contradiction, it feels a little “off” compared to how krogan talked about their unsuccessful genophage births in the original series, as though it was implying single child live births rather than bunches of eggs hatched together. More contradicting to lore, Vetra and Sid should have had the same facial tattoos. And the salarian design has notable anatomical changes, especially for the eyes. The salarians in ME:A have noticeable vertical pupils set in dark expanses, unlike the salarians in the original trilogy who had long, pointed, horizontal pupils with colored irises. The ME:A game creators reinterpreted the colored irises as another layer of skin around the eyes instead. Also, the salarians in the original trilogy blink upward, but that is not the case with the Andromeda salarians.

I could keep going, but I think that suffices for a list of some “meh” moments. Basically, we didn’t get a solid sense of cohesive story flow, instead feeling a fragmented and less exciting kaleidoscope of rare intense missions bogged down by menial small tasks. We had some minor lore changes to the main Milky Way species, did not get enough time with the Milky Way species to get the full Mass Effect “vibe,” and yet also did not get enough good explanation for new things like Remnant tech.

But. But. I also feel as though Mass Effect: Andromeda was quite worth the play through. I enjoyed it and happily embrace it as one of the Mass Effect stories. There are many positive things to appreciate about the game. It might not reach the original trilogy’s high bar, but that was a very high bar, and Andromeda is still a good game. Things that I especially enjoyed include:

1. The humor. There were many wonderful laugh-out-loud moments in Andromeda. I cracked up, appreciating the return of great Mass Effect humor like I loved in ME, ME 2, and ME 3. Things like Kallo Jath’s soap opera collection, the clusterfuck that was Liam’s loyalty mission, Drack’s bar fight, and Ryder overacting Kallo’s “death” in movie night were glorious.

2. The right amount of nostalgic call-backs. I don’t like games or movies that over-hark back to their glory days. You should be able to write a new story that’s just as good without banking on past productions to make people like it. ME:A had a wonderful balance of harking back to the original trilogy and characters, as well as many of the story concepts, without making it feel like a rehash or sappy nostalgia fest. We got blessed with hearing Liara’s voice again; meeting individuals like Cassandra Verner, Bain Massani, Garrus’ father, and Nyreen’s cousin; stumbling into Cerberus agents who complained about Miranda Lawson and Project Lazarus; and even hearing mentions to classics like Blasto the Hanar Spectre. At the same time, ME:A also had story elements with parallels to the original trilogy without feeling like it was copying and rehashing Shepard’s saga. Exaltation can be compared to turning people to husks; the Remnant ruins can be compared to Prothean ruins; [spoilers] discovering an ancient secret of the angara being created by the mysterious Jardaan is an interesting juxtaposition to discovering an ancient secret of the Protheans being destroyed by the mysterious Reapers. I think they hit the balance just right to give call-backs to old Mass Effect fans while pursuing an original, new, fun story.

3. The squad, crew, and broader character cast. There might have been too many conversation moments and character dates, but the crew is a cool bunch of people. Even if you don’t like all the people in the crew, they have nice, distinct personalities, interests, struggles, and dynamics with other individuals. I especially am a fan of Vetra Nyx. Nakmor Drack is a great pleasure. Other characters outside of the Tempest were cool, too; I love to hate Jarun Tann, and I always enjoyed my time with people like Sid, Reyes Vidal, Scott Ryder, and Zevin Raeka.

4. I love the Ryder twins! We got a great and distinct personality with our Pathfinder, someone who is very different from Shepard, but still easy to fall in love with and enjoy playing as. I’ve had just as much fun being Ryder as I have being Shepard - something I never thought I would say, but is true. The sibling bond was also cute and something that played well into emotions and the story.

5. Really, really, REALLY awesome landscapes, visuals, and artistry. The color pallets of this game are out of this world beautiful. The colors of this game never cease to amaze me; I took a disturbing amount of screen caps (over 13,000) because I couldn’t get enough of the great color contrasts and lighting. The planets are all beautiful, distinct, creative, memorable, and awesome to see. The visual world around me is incredible. Just… INCREDIBLE imagery.

6. Representation. The Mass Effect series has always sought to be inclusive and representative of all of humanity, but it does make some mistakes. The first game especially I have some critiques with about representation, both in terms of race and gender. But ME:A did an overall splendid job about being inclusive about women leaders, individuals of different races, and LGBTQ individuals. Sure, it’s still not perfect-perfect, but BioWare has definitely taken huge strides forward. I have lots of positive things to say about Andromeda’s representation.

7. The freaking climax. The climax of the game was incredible, wonderful, thrilling, and enjoyable. I loved it! All the people groups I helped coming together made for an epic battle. The action was high and I had a lot of intense and awesome fighting to get to the center. The sense of urgency and danger was high and I felt myself fully immersed into the moment’s extended excitement. Here was the point where I could see my close team and the broader Andromeda community coming together for an epic battle. For all that the plot goes in fits and spurts throughout the game, this was a very wonderful climax, fully satisfying, and quite well-done. As I said, I loved it.

8. And let’s not forget other awesome plot moments, too. I think one of the other great, intense moments of the game where I was invested and emotional was when I got aboard Ark Paarchero. It was an intense mission with clear stakes and consequences, emotional investment, and dark impact.

And last but not least… I am happy that ME:A is clearly setting up for a new trilogy. While some story elements were resolved, it’s obvious that not everything is resolved, both in terms of answering questions or defeating enemies. I suspect that BioWare could take feedback from Andromeda to make an even more solid and intense Andromeda 2 and 3.

So, overall, I feel positive about Andromeda. I recognize that it is imperfect (as all things are, let’s be real), but I am very happy to have played the game. I am very happy the game has been created. I am very happy there will be more coming in this series. I am going to speak very favorably of Andromeda in conversations. There are areas where it successfully delivered - lots of cool areas where it successfully delivered. 

I am a big fan of the Mass Effect series, and Mass Effect: Andromeda is giving me more fuel to stay an excited fan. I can understand where the lukewarm reviews come from - I can - but as for me, I’m not going to complain. I come away feeling satisfied and emotionally full from great worlds, characters, and emotions that Andromeda gave me.

Here are where my spoiler comments are going to be, because lots of my thoughts about the game are tied up with spoilers. I’ll try to be brief, though, for now.

It feels as though I “got off light” on Andromeda because none of the main characters died for me. Maybe lower planet vitality, lower AVP levels, and not completing loyalty missions change things, but personally I’m surprised it was so easy to have a solid “happy ending” with no huge deaths or drama. I know that Zevin Raeka can die if you choose to save the krogan scouts on the Paarchero, but that’s easy to avoid, and none of my squad or crew were close to dying. Knowing how cruel BioWare can be with character deaths and how inevitable bad events can be, I was surprised that I got off as light as I did. 

I suspect that consequences will be played further and come to reap worse results in the subsequent Andromeda games. I made some choices in Andromeda that I would be very surprised if they didn’t come back to bite me. For starters: I shot Akksul. That’s not going to be good for my angara relations. Which characters become Pathfinders might also have an effect (I have Sarissa and Raeka). Choosing whether Sloan and/or Vidal die must have repercussions (I saved Sloan and let Vidal escape). Clearly, choosing who the interim ambassador is going to have big consequences politically, too (I chose Raeka). So there are lots of areas which are set up to have dangerous impacts later… so maybe the emotional explosion is yet to occur, and Andromeda is just the “nice” part of the story line. Things could bust me up later.

I guess those are my main thoughts about the game. I know that was a lot of text, but hopefully not too much! And feel free to ask more questions or chat with me further about Andromeda - I’m extremely happy to talk and analyze. XD I’m also interested to compare notes with people about choices you made versus my own decisions!

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Thirteen Techniques To Motivate Yourself.

Listed here is our newest selection from attractive self-confidence quotes, uplifting assurance quotes and excellent motivational quotes to increase your self-confidence! Obviously ladies keep large postures of power in today's society, and yet on my morning commute I see women that cannot create sufficient power to raise their computer bags as much as their shoulders. Our experts've possessed a great deal enjoyable producing these incredible motivational wallpapers, full of all the very best motivational quotes on the web! If http://fluchtigeschonheit.info/ liked these motivating Eric Thomas estimates, at that point undoubtedly check out these quotes off Les Brown, yet another impressive inspirational sound speaker! The High court gave out a keep" of Clean Energy Strategy implementation through a 5-4 ballot, last February, right before the passing away of Judicature Antonin Scalia. Keep in mind that throughout history, numerous numerous numbers of authorities have actually developed as well as held onto their electrical power by managing info and also the spreading of ideas. Your whole organism collects and also repairs electrical power while resting and determination is actually no different. Our company may differentiate in between intrinsic (inner) incentive and extraneous (external) incentive. Assisting folks, particularly me to obtain and also recognize in contact with these inspirational speakers its thoughts wasting. Without an inny," this is actually hard-- or even difficult-- to develop long lasting incentive.

You must trust that the dots will definitely somehow connect in the future; you have to leave. in one thing, whether it is actually karma or serendipity, however reputabling yourself is actually the very first step in the direction of feeling influenced and also possessing the incentive to move forward. If you discover on your own picking the surprise as well as the chair often than you will such as, the complete WORST trait you may do is to begin assuming that you've dropped your incentive. Inquire yourself, Just what's the worst that could probably take place?" By forcing on your own to deal with the quite worst, you provide on your own the electrical power to discover a service through functioning backwards. You can discover your inspiration and creativity in developing your psychological toughness or even possibly practicing meditation. Greed readies" is just one of the most momentous plan from a fierce sell broker - Gordon Gekko, which pays homage to money and also the electrical power that carries him. Because it is actually easier to sustain incentive for short periods, that will be easier to maintain the motivation, when the target does not need much time to achieve, merely a handful of moments, hours, or even a day or two. In addition to her blog site, you may locate her exercise as well as nutrition understanding on, the Body Scientific research podcast, as well as her straightforward, motivational Instagram blog posts. Assisting somebody in need will definitely enhance your state of mind and increase your inspiration to obtain away from mattress the upcoming day. Other than these listing from Motivational Audio speakers, there are actually handful of extra inspirational audio speakers. Gates is actually a spectacular inspirational sound speaker which individuals happily stick to and observe. Design a space that moves you in a positive direction with visual pointers of your objectives, inspiring quotes or even people you appreciate. Actually, it also features an Air Conditioning adapter (energy block) that you could make use of directly with a laptop pc in case you have actually shed your electrical power brick. Head on over to YouTube and also examine out several of his other great inspirational video recordings. You may reduce your personal motivation by the Hawthorne impact Work all the time. We are actually certain that the Clean Energy Program hinges on a sound lawful structure, as well as our experts waiting to its time in court. Need may be a very motivational variable as well as an efficient motivation strategy that makes us carry out whatever this takes" till our team satisfied our wish! http://fluchtigeschonheit.info/ assume most of us produce our own meaning of exactly what success is. I carry out feel that's a perspective game. This short article is actually meant to take you basic relevant information on motivation and the shortage from it. To find out more as well as advise, I welcome you to read through the various other posts about inspiration at this web site. Incentive is actually the activation from ambitious actions that arouses a personal to act towards a wanted goal. You can easily blend this along with the checklist of advantages to offer your own self a lot more incentive to start moving as well as receive things carried out. The reality is actually, motivation is actually not something that spurs me on work out each day - it's even more from a practice. After I pulled on my own away from the inspirational basement, I returned to all the downsides notions I will had as well as used them to improving the internet site. Yes, you can easily begin however if there is actually no inner drive to accomplish that at that point you will drop motivation effortlessly and think that giving up constantly after a while. This helps you to avoid procrastination and eliminates fool's paradises such as waiting up until inspiration arises". Yesterday, somebody posted something in a FB team that I'm in regarding motivation. If however your moms and dads or even anybody else prefers you to become a legal representative, at that point you should reconsider your option, since it is actually not your very own target and also you will definitely never ever have the capacity to reach the top incentive off a goal that is actually certainly not yours. He speaks about the energy from being actually an idealist as well as gives a lots from medical explanations in order to why you should be living an Optimistic Life. The above mentioned causes contrain motivation and enthusiasm, as well as are simply reasons for certainly not functioning. There are actually means to aid boost the condition if you or an adored one is really feeling a lack from inspiration due to anxiety. Certainly, the challengers talked to Environmental Protection Agency for total flexibility to use that technique to comply with the Clean Energy Program's exhaust price limits. A wheelchair is a transferable seat along with tires that you could manage personally or digitally. When you initially start on a new endeavor, just before you start your course of action, you most likely had an initial source from inspiration. The enthusiasm you eat what you do in life will certainly be the biggest source from inspiration you ever come upon. Try to find the adverse consequences as strongly as you can easily in your mind to kickstart your inspiration to start selecting that good improvement once more. John F. Kennedy's beginning pep talk stands up at the top of the moment Start pep talks ever before, simply due to his convincing pep talk. I'm still utilizing Powerpoint nowadays in my seminars as well as talks however thankfully after viewing numerous others help make the exact same oversights that I did with their presentations, I had this after on my own to get some training on how you can finest use this resource. Queen's our company will definitely rock you" is just one of their very most pop musics, besides the power ballad our experts are the champs. He can easily manage ... quite possibly in the forest of plants, however I am visiting discover Will Power.

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Writing assignment text 4

Should I listen more to my instincts?

Answering this question assumes I can distinguish if my behaviour or thoughts is driven by instinct or by my ratio. It seems that this is very complicated to determine so I will rephrase my question: “should I try to make decisions more quickly, provoking instinctive mechanisms instead of providing ample time to make thoughtful reasoned decisions?”

Darwin explained in his evolution theory that we evolved from primates to become the humans that we are today. With this change we also started to behave less ‘like animals.’ Our rational capabilities are much further developed than other species on earth, distinguishing us from other primates. Besides our ratio and our instinct, there is a third mayor influence on out behaviour: the social constructions around us. To illustrate: We might feel the urge to pee because our bladder is full: our instinctive reaction would be to release our urine to solve this problem. Our ratio tells us that this will result in wet trousers, which will be uncomfortable to wear. Socially I have learned to be ashamed for peeing in my pants and so these two factors overrule my initial instinct to release my bladder right there and then.

Ok so there are basically three mechanisms that constantly interact/overrule and enhance. Is one mechanism more beneficial for me? And with beneficial I mean: does following one mechanism more than the others make me happier?

Part of growing up is being taught to ignore your primal urges. Both by rational arguments and by social construction. Controlling your body is something we strive for. We control our menstrual cycle with the pill, we change our natural smell with deodorant and perfume, we change our appearance with make-up and sometimes even surgery and create ‘happiness’ with drugs. Some people argue this has gone to far, that we are becoming more and more artificial and we loose touch with our nature. They explain there is a wisdom in our subconscious that we should not try to ignore constantly. Our primal brain is a very effective pattern recogniser and often analyses a situation before our rational brain can make up his mind. This is one of the arguments why we should try to get in touch with out instincts again.

Another example of how seemingly correct your instinct can be is an experiment they did with job interviews. It went as follows: a panel of human resources was asked to push a button after 15 seconds of the interview, deciding if it was a right fit or not. After the complete interview of 30 minutes the action was repeated. The result was that in almost all cases the employers made the same decision after 15 seconds and half an hour. Does this mean that we have a brilliant instinct for reading peoples fit in a company? Sadly no. The explanation for this phenomenon is the confirmation bias present in our brain. We have a strong subconscious urge to see our ideas confirmed. So we do make up our mind fairly quickly about a person, but that does not mean it is according with the objective truth. In the example of the job interview our first impression of someone might be that he is a funny guy. The remaining 30 minutes we notice only the things confirming this idea. We notice the jokes, and subconsciously ignore the less funny side. Surely, if these 30 minutes differ greatly from our first impression we can change our mind.

This immediately shows the weakness of following your instinctive quick decisions: the instinctive primal mechanism was not made for the complex social environment we live in. It often misinterprets socially constructed situations and we need more time to understand the intricate details in these kinds of experiences.

The argument that following your instinct is more natural and therefore better, does not sit well with me. We evolve as humans. We used to be more primitive, cut peoples hands off if they stole etc. But luckily we change. So becoming more rational is, according to me, not less natural. It is actually a natural development according to the situation we find ourselves in.

However, fooling instinct is another thing. You can now buy a perfume that is artificially developed pheromones. Pheromones are hormones that are secreted by the body to influence someone else’s behaviour. One of these pheromones is the sex pheromone: A hormone secreted to attract individuals of the opposite sex to mate with you. Because this process is subconscious research is not completely convinced of the effectiveness of the artificial pheromones, but the manufacturer claims it helps you to attract others. This raises some ethical questions. Is this development something we should be anxious about? Does this differ from putting on make-up to make you look more attractive? To have plastic surgery to increase your breast size? To wear certain brands of clothes? Where are we influencing others instinctive attractiveness too much?

A field that happily uses the subconscious of our mind is the advertisement industry. Instead of focussing on information, some companies focus on emotion. A small example is the use of rounded edges. If you see squares or rectangles in advertisement, their edges are often rounded. Evolutionary we have the instinct to avoid very straight edges, because we associate sharp edges with danger. So we might think that we make logical choices, but we are instinctively fooled into a certain direction.

To summarize: I think that instinctive decisions can be beneficial in some cases. The instinct is a primal mechanism and that is where it is most useful: primal situations. In danger, in procreation and in survival it can be wiser than your ratio. However, we must remember that we live in a different society than thousands of years ago. Our instinct is not properly adjusted to handle the complex social situations, in which, I think, we should take in account our rational thoughts. Besides this, our instinct can be fooled. I think, it is wise to not only rely on one mechanism or the other. My opinion is that we evolved to what we are now because it is adapting to the current society. We still have this instinctive mechanism, but it is, nowadays, heavily supported and overruled by our ratio and our socially constructed mechanisms for a reason.

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10 Ways To earn You Rejoice.

Ask the question just what makes for a great relationship? If you have any issues concerning exactly where and how to use yellow pages uk reverse lookup (source web page), you can get hold of us at our own website. " and you're most likely in order to get as numerous solutions as there are frozen yogurt flavors. If you have any type of problem analysis this fic with a display reader, simply carry out permit me recognize and I will certainly perform completely every thing I can to repair this. Generally, the tunes are actually certainly not needed to understand the account, nevertheless I'm dealing with featuring the verses to the tracks on the video articles so that need to be actually up quickly.

CHALLENGE ☆ (c) veohRSS" style="float:left;padding:10px 10px 10px 0px;border:0px;">

You can do things like perspective as well as download your records and also make changes to your policy - and the bright side is actually, this implies no admin costs! They may not start that way, yet I have actually remained in some crazy ones where workers on various other wooden boats must have choppers remove all of them for defective bone tissues and also various other several points. If you carry out dislike spending quality time with your partner, ensure that you have this capsule; that will certainly not merely boost sexual drive, however will certainly guarantee that you appreciate the instant to the max. Thus, yes, Commenter, I can prefer to enjoy or rather believe seconds of joy and happiness and also interior unity, even with all that's going on. I feel that is actually certainly not simply my task however my obligation in order to help store an even more loving vibration on this planet-- specifically now. A lady who is willing to practice is actually one thing that every male desire for, therefore if you wish to make him really happy, provide him a possibility try something brand-new. You will locate some primary main reasons for this, as well as knowing these explanations will certainly assist you create the ideal modifications. So our company can improve our annual earnings through thousands of hundreds of dollars as well as still certainly not be as satisfied as if our company boosted the durability from our social connections. Therefore, deciding to be a satisfied individual and also comply with the self inspiration recommendations listed here under. Separation quotes exist to allow as well as happen to terms with your separation, support create as well as manage your feelings, assistance point you in the correct instructions on where to go away and also to aid you start believing and also keeping beneficial. Find, those could be comical but performing those traits create me delighted ... therefore select't waste time on unfavorable ideas. The majority of pairs that enjoy the swinger way of living do it CONSIDERING THAT they possess a delighted as well as solid relationship and a fantastic sexual activity lifestyle initially. Help make certain that you have pin directed the cause behind this as well as that you have actually discovered the remedy to this if you are shying out coming from the marriage relationship. Create sure that you try the Kamni Capsules for the improvement of your relationship if you are looking for the best answer. I was actually therefore delighted as well as visited him, that was just how our team began living together happily again. Let's claim you carry out close up magic (which I firmly propose you ought to likewise do if you intend to make a good lifestyle in magic) however you find this challenging to deal with folks up close. Given that that gave him an opportunity to dig in to some of the even more clean feelings he hadn't possessed an odds to play along with in an even though, he will picked this song. There is nothing wrong with being sure you more than happy but additionally stay for others and also you locate much more contentment. But if those minds make him open up to you as well as receive him interested after that, raise more of them and reinforce the fact that your relationship is exactly what he needs to have, till you are actually certain the best ways to gain your hubby back. Remind your own self that your emotion good is essential - the better you think, the even more you could give, and also the more significant influence you could create worldwide. My heart remained ever enthusiastic that I would certainly locate a delighted ending, however due to some unsatisfactory options, I kept throwing on my own on the rocks from courting frustration. Sweet sushi creates terrific home made gifts for grandparents, teachers as well as more, and will create those you love sense exclusive. You observe, we presume that one thing or an individual can produce us pleased, however that is wrong. Our company invest our young people longing for growing older so our team may do the important things that our team assume create adults satisfied, then when our team are actually much older we dream of our youth as well as exactly how our experts wasted it through disliking our wellness and also flexibility off tasks. Be actually tender and generous; simply do not slobber around him in your attempt making him pleased. It was an actual battle for me to know why I wasn't satisfied when I had every little thing that I thought was vital in life. I inform you ... every single time you bring in an attempt to enhance the quality your creature as well as lifestyle, whether it is actually cleaning our home, assisting your moms and dads, dealing with an ill buddy, falling short on assessments as well as trying again, life offers you identical aspects for that. Relationships are neither happy neither troubled; it is an impartial and also neutral element developed when pair of individuals come together for whatever reason. This belongs to your center being actually, however be conscious of this when she is actually all around and also offer her your full attention if you desire to maintain her delighted. I hated being an empty ship, and as I began going out with, I expected that special someone to find along, fill me up, and also create me satisfied. Charming life quotes are actually one such a way that make sure to bring immediate smile on your face. I was surprised - no longer do I assume that obtaining that wonderful purse or even pair from shoes (that I never put on, since in the store I believe 'of course I can stroll in these heels' and get home to find I can't walk and also they injure!!) will help make me satisfied. The limitless sacrifices that a father creates to ensure his loved ones enjoys makes you question exactly what our team would certainly give up him. Eat chocolate with out guilt, be actually nise to decrease spent persons and create them think featured, Inform polices what you realy think! By having the ability to accept all expenses of something you wish, by enjoying during the adventure to your target, you will be happy. None from these causes validate cheating or even produce that ok, however through knowing and also knowing males exactly what men prefer, you'll possess a far better possibility from cheat proofing your relationship. When you check out at your lifestyle, you choose regarding that. You make a decision to be pleased with it or you do not. While every person possesses their very own opinion, some common traits like the ones listed below may be taken into consideration as what creates folks delighted. Having said that, should you locate on your own (for whatever strange reason) possessed through an irresistable desire to carry out even more, I have supplied this handy list of means to earn me even happier. , if a woman yearns for a happy guy there are several traits she need to carry out.. Or else, he will eventually burn out and also leave behind, worn down. A lady which praises this profound requirement that males must create her happy, possesses an entirely various mindset toward males. Please do let me understand and I will perform positively everything I can to correct that if you have any type of issue analysis this fic along with a monitor viewers. Typically, the songs are not should understand the tale, however I'm servicing including the lyrics to the tracks on the video posts in order that should be up soon.

[armorroofing]

Joplin MO New Roof Installations - A+ BBB

The article Joplin MO New Roof Installations - A+ BBB originally appeared on Armor Roofing Kansas City.

Why is appropriate roofing highly recommended? Having a lovely and wonderful home is the plan of almost everyone with children. A residence is everything that you should for a family, as this is actually the accepted property you can certainly label home, and your story will become written here with your kids. You can now understand why it has to be well taken care of for everyone to become very happy. It is usually thus necessary that no unpredictable circumstances like water damage from a roof rupture trigger misery in your building. It is thus critical to get expert roof inspections to make sure that damages to your property will not really advance not noticed.

Seeing that you reside in Joplin, you really should grasp that the formidable climatic conditions you live through could significantly take a toll on your roofing if pertinent care is usually not focused on it. As a result, when you recognize obvious indications of conceivable roofing impairment such as tiles in the patio or yard or surprising blemishes on your truck or, you have to benefit from an examination of your roof in the next few days to take action to correct any potential harm.

The valued clientele of Armor Roofing is our most significant fans. Someone should prove this by inspecting a lot of five-star stories publicized at internet review directories. Most roof jobs probably will be covered by your home insurance, and we will probably help you run through the red tape to help you get your roofing work approved. We always guarantee our very good quality roofing repair jobs. We make available at least a 5 year extended warranty on our service.

A little inspection as we speak would be able to prevent you from having a whole lot of problems from a water leak later on in life. You have certainly nothing to lose by dialing us no cost roof inspection right this moment. Simply dial the phone number down further or send us a post using the Contact Us link at the bottom of the page below.

Call Us Today!Call Us Today! (816) 331-7663

If you prefer your rooftop to endure the violent rain fall around Joplin, then you will have to ensure your roof is well maintained and fixed anytime it is demanded. So long as your roof structure is significantly ancient, then it would probably need to be ultimately replaced, and this would get quite costly. But, one probably should not employ it as a justification to hold-up making sure it is dealt with. Someone is in no way going to be able to save capital simply by not having it addressed. In cases where the impairment should get more intense, it ought to require you to pay more than in the past, and I am sure that no body desires that to take place. Seeing that the roof is undoubtedly the well-known defense of the house, the overall condition will no doubt slowly degrade and at some point, a refurbishment and in many cases, a new roof is pretty much necessary.

Happily, these incidents are frequently easy to overcome for many people for a number of conditions. First of all, you necessarily need to be aware that most roofing issues are remedied by a simple and easy that may be low priced. Following that, in the case you ought to have a rather pricey complete roof installation, your home loan coverage is likely to cover the replacement providing the job is done with very well. Which is why you ought to ensure the proper roof contractor performs the roof job correct at first. If not, you may be phoning the local roofing company keeps coming back to deal with the goof ups the insurance representative unearthed.

How Can I Investigate A Covering Calamity?

Deal with the following problems to start with:

So Just why Might I Make A Decision On A New Roof Installation?

If you possess a metal made roof covering, are you finding any existing parts which may start looking oxidated? Corrosion may perhaps be the most pressing sign that the dependability of the metal roofing is already lost, and simply it is a moment for a thorough examination of the roofing. You certainly would not want that steel roof covering to before long fall apart, unquestionably?

How does the sarking layer beneath your roofing tiles look and feel? Have you ever heard of a sarking? This layer often is laid within the roof shingles to be of assistance in preventing roofing leakages and offer supplemental support and insulation corresponding to the design of roof covering. A corroded sarking can possibly bring about water leaks, especially with tile or sheet metal roof structure systems which specifically hinge upon the extra rainwater barrier. You absolutely need to ditch the sarking layer and change the roofing materials used over it right away.

Have rooftop tiles shattered or slipped down from the top of the roof? According to the impairment, you might not exactly be needing to carry out something as expensive as a 100 % re-roof; quite possibly you can solely switch the wrecked items with an absolutely new roof tiles and then be finished with this!

If you happen to do discover the problem, you must perform a lesser remedy or even a full replacement, each with perks and drawbacks. As you can imagine, this would have to best be practiced by initially communicating with a roofing company near Joplin. If possible you are encouraged to have a roofing contractor run the checkup too as ascending atop the roofing has the potential to be hazardous and experienced roofs can notice property damage which unfortunately the vast majority people cannot.

We highly recommend you consider Roofs Are Us now for your 100% complementary exam, and so you do not have a basis for to undertake it your self.

Call Us Today!Call Us Today! (816) 331-7663

We simply call Roofs Are Us at this time for your complimentary inspection, and so you don't have a justification to go about doing it with no help. A pro like Roofs Are Us ought to offer you a really good awareness as to whether a simple servicing or re-roofing is imperative. If you find it appears your professional person is angling against an entire roof replacement, well then there are a variety of facts you will need to take into account.

Several Most Important Benefits Of A New Roof Replacement

Who all won't prefer to maintain a brand spanking new roof top any time handed the option? Right after it is built, you won't be required to hassle with any type of essential troubleshooting for a long time. Put in a lifetime roof top on your home and you actually can expect to have a hassle-free rooftop for several decades. In case that the spoil is not actually that substantial, and you will not need to possess the peace of mind that comes along with a full replacement, then a far less costly improvement tends to be quite possible.

You undoubtedly have to consider a brand-new roofing replacement if you find you expect to soon re-sell your domicile. Simply because first perceptions are actually noteworthy, a great roof covering by having the most desirable materials should be able to drastically develop how real estate potential buyers respond to the building before ever stepping inside.

Why Should You Abstain From A Joplin Completely new Roof Structure Set up?

The time frame required for the all new rooftop mount should be significantly more than with a very simple restoration. Then again provided that you appoint a licensed roofing expert complete with a significant group at your disposal, the replacement could be executed basically soon, sometimes after only a few days. The charges are the rationale for why people will not pay for A thorough roof structure replacement. $7,000 to $11,000, which is, in fact, the common amount for the project, will be a lot of funds for most homeowners. If or when it is some sort of a modest roof replacement, the price tag is reduced, and on the opposite end of the spectrum, whenever you enjoy a grand domicile using an expensive component, it surely could command forty-thousand dollars. As described previously, the financial strain will often times forked over by your insurance company, yet, strictly in the event that the endeavor can be sanctioned prior to the start and handled correctly. One explanation why our fans treasure our work is that we will likely try to make certain to help you try to get a cleared claim.

Armor Roofing Service will be able to service your family if you guess your roof structure might be injured/damaged. We backup our products and services via a complete warranty along with a customer 100 % satisfaction commitment. Speak to Armor Roofing LLC instantly!

Call Us Today!Call Us Today! (816) 331-7663

Armor Roofing LLC - Kansas City 6600 NW Tower Dr #104 Kansas City, MO 64151 (816) 935-9312 http://kansascity.roofsareus.com

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