#harvey is normal or grass

[ask-shane]

hello shane, if you were a pokemon gym leader what type would you use and why?

hm... i'd probably use poison types. they just resonate with me.

only thing is, there aren't any poison-type chickens. and i really like the torchic line, so i guess if we're using that logic, fire?

[ashs-cardboard-box]

Poetic translation

~ Elliott/GN!Reader

~ Romantic

~ 881 words

ib: @the-spookington

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Caring for your own farm was a drastic shift from your boring desk job, but it was honest work. Get up at six each morning, and hope you’re in bed before two. Getting billed from the frantic doctor Harvey wasn't something you looked forward to.

Unfortunately, it felt like it was happening more than normal lately. You had made friends with Elliott, often spending your time with him down on the beach when you weren’t working. His shack was quite a ways walk from your farm. Often losing track of time and ending up collapsing from exhaustion on your way back home. It always worried Elliott terribly.

 He knew that look. When you sheepishly walk up onto the beach, clutching the letter in hand. Elliott chuckles softly with a slow shake of his head extending a hand forth expectantly, prompting you to put the folded paper into his palm with a dry chuckle.

Elliott delicately unfolds the paper and reads over the doctor’s handwriting. “My love..” he sighs, but not out of frustration, out of worry for your well-being. Your black-outs can’t be good for you– that he knows. You nod slowly in response, already expecting a lecture of sorts.

Instead, he gently folds the paper back into three flaps and offers it back to you with one hand. The other reaching forward and resting his palm on your cheek, his thumb caressing over your cheekbone as he looks into your eyes with concern.

The two of you had grown close over time, blurring the lines of what you really are. Friends, lovers, best friends..just affectionate? You weren’t entirely sure. However, that wouldn’t stop you from leaning into the warmth of his hand. Accepting the letter back from him and stuffing it sloppily into your pocket, your other hand cupping the back of Elliott’s.

The silence between you two is not one of awkwardness nor of tension, but of pure bliss and adoration. Feeling his breath graze your face due to the close proximity, blending perfectly with the subtle breeze of salty sea water rushing the sandy shores in small waves. 

“I’ll be more careful tonight.” you promise, your fingers curling around Elliott’s hand, causing his own to move from your cheek to interlace your fingers with one another. A warm smile crosses over his lips at your words.

“I know you will, darling.” he murmurs. To anyone passing by, no doubt you would’ve seemed like more than friends. That one passing thought makes your cheeks burn, rushing up to the tips of your ears as you take a step back, awkwardly clearing your throat; you don’t dare let go of his hand. 

Elliott’s eyes dart up and down your body closely, studying each and every detail. His head cocking to the head subtly, as if a curious puppy. He brings his free hand up and runs his fingers through his long auburn hair, brushing it away from his face. 

“I- I should..get back to work–” you mumble nervously, feeling your heart race in your chest. Only to have Elliott gently pull you back to him without a word. Letting go of your hand to wrap his arms around you into a firm hug, keeping you close. Despite your confusion, you wrap your arms around his waist. A heavy sigh of contentment leaving your lips.

After an unusual silence on Elliott’s behalf, he finally speaks. His tone much softer than usual, making sure that you, and only you, are able to hear it– despite being alone along the beach. 

“You are like the warmth of the sun’s rays on my skin in the early morning hours; a fawn learning its way through a new life. You are the roots to the tree that support me in each waking minute. The shine of the dewy grass after a lovely rain couldn’t compare to your eyes, my love.”

You lift your head slowly and look up at Elliott, your confused expression a stark contrast from his passionate one. You blink a few times as you try and wrack your brain about what exactly all of that means.

“...What?” you mumble with a small chuckle, causing Elliott to scoff a laugh in mock offense before leaning down closer to you. One of his hands moving from around your back to your chin. His index finger underneath your chin, the pad of his thumb resting just under your bottom lip.

“I’m saying I love you, dear. How clumsy you are concerns me, and I love the way you support me and your farm, despite the strenuous work each day. Your eyes captivate me like no other.” Elliott explains calmly with a deep chuckle.

You gasp quietly at the simple explanation of Elliott’s poetic rambling. Your eyes lighting up with recognition, only serving to cause your heart to race further. “I love you too..” you whisper. Taking in each and every detail of Elliott’s features, only to get caught short as he leans even closer. Allowing his eyes to close as he lovingly presses his lips against yours. Your own eyes slowly closing as you kiss him back.

While you didn’t always understand the meaning behind his heartwarming poetry, he was patient and loved your excitement when you finally understood just how much he loves you.

..................................................................................................

i am a shit poet don't tear me to shreds </3

(thank you to Spooki for the idea !!!)

[lolahaurisfw]

: ̗̀➛ Sebastian: Fluff Alphabet

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

He loves that you accept him for who he is. You respect his work, his social boundaries, and you don't try to change him or force him out of his comfort zone.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Hips and waist! Thick or thin, he just loves holding onto yours hips, or putting his arms around your waist. 

Hugs from behind >>>

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Big spooning you, he loves to hold you like a teddy bear :)

Also loves it when you lay your head on his chest and hold him, or just fully lay on top of him. The pressure is calming.

The best cuddles are when it’s raining. He may love going out in the rain, but he loves cuddling in bed and listening to it hit the window more.

So he’d beg you to take the day off and be lazy with him, probably trying to persuade you with a cup of coco and your favorite sitcom.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Dancing in the rain with you… omg

Imagine meeting him in the Cindersap forest on a stormy morning.

He pulls you under a patch of trees, distant enough that the rain is still hitting you, but close enough that you aren't getting completely soaked.

He looks (down/up) at you, locking eyes and smiling, his cheeks getting a little pink.

He wraps an arm around your waist and brings your hand into an embrace with his free one. Lacing your fingers together at shoulder level, doing a classic ballroom dance.

You both spend some time just spinning around in the soaked grass, laughing and kissing each other like nothing in the world has ever existed besides the two of you. <3

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Very pessimistic and emotionally reserved at first. He'd let you know if he was upset and why, but he wouldn't really bother trying to talk it out or find a solution.

But the more serious your relationship became, he was willing to open up to you more, see things on the bright side sometimes, let you help him and be his shoulder to cry on.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

I don't think he would, he'd rather focus on you.

And some occasional traveling.

Kids are stressful and cause a lot of anxiety, not something he'd ever find appealing.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

Not his strong suit, or preferred love language, but he’s fine with it.

He’s a minimalist decorator, so for receiving gifts, i think he’d prefer food or items that don’t take a lot of space/have a good use.

Like clothes, video games, nail polish, eyeliner, decorations for his frog vivarium, etc...

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

Holding your hand under the pillow while he big-spoons you! >>

He's more of a full on cuddler than just a hand-holder. But yeah, he loves to lace your fingers together while lying in bed.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Inside he's freaking out BAD and already feeling sick.

But on the outside, he tries to stay normal and calm so he doesn't worry you.

If you're really badly injured, he'll pick you up right away and bring you to Harvey.

Sits by the hospital bed the entire time and holds your hand. <3

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Def not a prankster, I feel like Abi and Sam are the prankster types, so he's grown to be very annoyed with it lol.

He has a more sarcastic, quick wit sense of humor.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Neck kisses!! He thinks they're really hot, and likes seeing you get flustered by them.

Cheek and lip kisses tie for second. Cute n sweet.

Bunny kisses!!! omg!

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

Quality time and acts of service.

Quality time may not sound right because he always talks about how he likes a lot of alone time. But that's exactly why I think it is one of his major love languages.

You two have a deep, special, unique connection. And that translates to him actually wanting to spend lots of time with you, unlike his friends and family.

And acts of service just because it feels like the opposite of words of affirmation (showing vs telling).

And since he's def not much of a talker, he likes to tell you he loves you with actions.

Like: feeding the pets, cleaning up around the house & farm while your gone, grocery shopping or cooking when you're too busy, etc...

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

The night you met him on the dock while it was raining.

It's an uneventful memory, but it was the day his feelings for you were solidified.

He loves looking back on how intimate the moment was, just talking and joking and getting to know each other more.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

Waking up to divorce papers on the table...

I think it would (obviously) completely destroy him, make him lose any hope on love, leaving the valley, moving from his family...

The last thing he'd ever want to do is to go back to being a depressed introvert who lives in his mothers basement.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

His frog obsession, ofc. 

Totally rambles about frogs and general amphibian facts.

Super cute though.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Babe, baby, beautiful, ducky, bunny. 

Tadpole (tell me i’m wrong).

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Sitting in his lap while he works! >>

Being lazy around the house and just cuddling n talking to each other.

He LOVES listening to you talk.

His favorite thing though: rides out of town on his motorcycle. Maybe having a picnic on the cliff once you get there!

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Молчат Дома - Клетка

Cigarettes After Sex - Apocalypse 

Cage The Elephant - Come A Little Closer

Galaxie 500 - Strange

Heavy on Молчат Дома tho. If he were 18-25 in the 2020's, he'd soo be a Russian doomer music enjoyer.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

Completely open, I don't think he'd really have any secrets anyway?

He trusts you completely.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

That completely depends on you. He would genuinely be too nervous to ever tell you if he had a crush on you.

He’d drop hints, and you could probably easily tell by his body language and attitude change when you’re around, but he’d never be too bold or say it outright just incase you didn’t like him. 

Kinda unrelated but your dynamic would def be “you fell first, he fell harder.”

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

A little awkward at first, but he tries his best. He gets better at knowing how to comfort you the longer you’re together. 

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

His programming talents! He loves telling you about it.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

He's a little nervous about you going in the mines and fighting, but he trusts that you know what you're doing.

He probably wouldn't fight with you though. (unless it was to save you ofc)

He just doesn't have it in him to kill something.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

Actually very well.

Since he's more a listener and observer, he's obviously picked up quickly on how to read you.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

Absolutely takes you to the cliff where you shared your first kiss.

Takes you completely by surprise too, drops exactly 0 hints beforehand that he was about to propose.

Definitely cries when you say yes ahhhh!!

Picks you up and spins you around while kissing you all over.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Night walks, watching his frogs in their vivarium, running errands in the morning, a cigarette after a stressful day, Friday nights at the saloon with Sam & Abi, listening to the radio while he works, sitting alone at the end of the dock, motorcycle rides, daydreaming before bed, morning showers with you, cuddling while a record or tv show plays in the background.

[sdv-polls]

Pokemon Type Polls Summary (Bachelor/ettes)

alex - fighting 🥊

elliott - water 🌊

harvey - flying 🪽

sam - electric ⚡

sebastian - ghost 👻

shane - poison ☠️

abigail - ghost 👻

emily - psychic 🪬

haley - fairy 🧚‍♀️

leah - grass 🌿

maru - steel 🔩

penny - normal ⚪

link to poll series

any interest in doing more polls for other characters?

[regardstosoulandromance]

Zelda teaching Sabrina to drive.

also posted on ao3 here / rated general

“Now do I hit the gas?” Sabrina asked, bouncing in the driver’s seat of the Spellman hearse. Her hands gripped the steering wheel at ten and two as she glanced between the long stretch of driveway in front of them and her Aunt Zelda who was sitting beside her, cigarette hanging out the rolled down window.

“You have to change gears to drive first,” Harvey said from where he, Theo, and Roz sat in the backseat. There wasn’t really a backseat, in the traditional sense, so the trio sat cross legged, bracing unbuckled in the flat expanse.

“Usually,” Zelda said dryly, “There’s silence in the backseat of the hearse.”

Harvey swallowed.

“Thank you for teaching us all to drive Ms. Spellman,” said Roz, earning a look of betrayal from Harvey.

“Yeah,” echoed Theo, “It’ll be great to have a head start when we start driver’s ed at school.”

“You’re welcome Rosalind, Theodore,” said Zelda.

“It’s just Theo-“

“Now Sabrina, you must change the gear to drive first,” Zelda continued.

Sabrina paused for a beat, “How do I do that again?”

“You use the-“ Zelda gestured between them.

“The gearshift,” said Harvey.

“The gearshift,” Zelda said it slightly louder than Harvey, “And put it to D for drive.”

Sabrina performed the necessary steps, the hearse slowly rolling forward.

“Now gently press the gas,” Zelda instructed, “Gently Sabrina!”

Sabrina’s foot hit the gas in a way that was anything but gentle. The hearse jerked forward, driving down the driveway faster than a hearse should, really, the road ahead approaching far too quickly.

“Sabrina!” Zelda’s cigarette bounced out of her hand.

“Woo hoo!” Theo cheered, “Let’s take this to the highway!”

“Are you sure we’re safe back here, there’s no seatbelts,” said Roz.

“Watch out for the tombstones!” Harvey pointed between Sabrina and Zelda as Sabrina frantically turned the wheel, veering off the dirt driveway and towards the graveyard.

“Hit the brakes, Sabrina!” Cried Roz.

“Which one is that?” Sabrina said, equally loudly. The hearse wasn’t made for off-roading, and bounced through the grass making everyone’s shouts distorted.

“A witches ride normal ride is broomstick or mop, make this hearse surely stop!” Zelda yelled. Purple magic surrounded the front of the car, bringing them to a halt. All the warning lights came on the dashboard, beeping loudly before stopping as Zelda reached over and turned the hearse off and taking the keys.

“Okay maybe we’re not ready for the freeway,” Theo said, after a moment.

“Zelda! Sabrina! What do you think you’re doing?” Hilda’s voice called from the front porch.

Everyone scrambled out of the hearse, Harvey muttering “Uh oh,” under his breath.

“I said to wait for me!” Hilda said, stomping down the steps. She usually wasn’t one to get mad, but she wore a furrowed brow and a flour covered apron, “You don’t even have a driver’s license!”

“It’s just a hearse, Hilda, how hard can it be,” Zelda said flippantly.

“You almost crashed! With the children in the car!”

“Maybe we should go,” said Theo.

“Good idea,” Roz agreed.

“Why don’t you all come over to my place tomorrow,” said Harvey, “And I’ll show you how to drive in my dad’s old truck.”

“Thanks Harvey,” said Sabrina, waving to her friends before turning back to her bickering aunts.

[chickenpluswaffles]

okay, i have made a stardew valley x pokemon list! basically its in the order that i think you would fight them in and its just how i saw fit :) tldr: this is gonna be a long one 😅 (also harvey has an inteleon because 1: its my fav pokemon and 2: i didnt know what to put)

GYM LEADERS

Alex- Electric Type

Jolteon

Toxtricity

Galvantula

Manectric

Boltund (ace)

Cinderace (Electric Tera Type)

Haley- Grass Type

Comfey

Meowscarada

Meganium

Tsareena (wayyy more under the cut)

Florges (ace)

Alcreamie (Grass Tera Type)

Harvey- Fairy Type

Chansey

Gardevoir

Clefairy

Blissey

Audino (ace)

Inteleon (Fairy Tera Type)

Sam- Normal Type

Furfrou

Staraptor

Braviary

Ursaluna

Loudred (ace)

Lunatone (Normal Tera Type)

Sebastian- Dark Type

Umbreon

Houndoom

Theivul

Kingambit

Zoruark (ace)

Solrock (Dark Tera Type)

Elliott- Water Type

Swanna

Quaquaval

Malamar

Milotic

Primarina (ace)

Gallade (Water Tera Type)

Leah- Fighting Type

Mienshao

Medicham

Hitmonchan

Lucario

Gurdurr (ace)

Sudowoodo (Fighting Tera Type)

Abigail- Ghost Type

Chandelure

Mismagius

Dusknoir

Aegislash

Ceruledge (ace)

Espeon (Ghost Tera Type)

FINAL FOUR

Shane- First of Four

Herdier

Mudsdale

Oinkalogne

Whimsicott

Blaziken (ace)

Dubwool (Fire Tera Type)

Maru- Second of Four

Steelix

Magnezone

Registeel

Iron Valiant

Magearna (ace)

Iron Jugulus (Steel Tera Type)

Penny- Third of Four

Espurr

Ninetales

Delcatty

Mimikyu

Hatterene (ace)

Whismur (Fairy Tera Type)

Emily- Final Four

Chatot

Altaria

Toucannon

Esparatha

Leavanny (ace)

Gothorita (Poison Tera Type)

Sandy (Top Champion)

Flygon

Musharna

Lurantis

Aurorus

Cacturn

Cresselia (ace & ghost type tera)

[knightofnightmoo]

Welcome to Glance.

His Death.

The walls shudder ever so slightly as the wind outside blows in�� a harsh tantrum. Pattering from the rain permeates the dark, silent house. Animals hidden in the barn and crops flapping around from the storm. Doors and windows locked and sealed. The boards over the windows creak. The day’s work and repairs run through his mind as he sits in the rocking chair with his shotgun on his lap. The chair groans and whines as he rocks and waits patiently. Not even a glint of light, besides the lightning outside, touched a corner of the inside. None was needed. Too much light may allow it to find him.

Time always seemed to slow on nights like this. Always agonizing. But he can’t risk it. Not after what happened to Pa. His mind jolts to attention as heavy steps hit the porch. Seems it has decided to come to the front this time. Screechy laughter hisses from the creature. He stands up slowly. His grip on the gun tightening as he lifts it to the door and follows it to one of the windows. Flashes from outside allow him to see those all too familiar eyes. Each gleamed dark and pupiless. Its mouth filled with an unimaginable amount of teeth. Sharp enough to cut through flesh and bone like it were chewing gum. The grey, almost human skin dripping from the pour. Devland doesn’t move any further. His focus completely on the creature. Claws fall slowly down the window. The sound rivaling the thunder. Devland’s shoulders stiffen.

Don’t move. Don’t give yourself away. It didn’t get you last time. It won’t succeed. Ever. Again.

This stalemate continues until light hits the window and seeps through the cracks between the boards. 

It’s gone. Did the rain stop?

He lowers his gun and lets out a shaky breath. His steps swift and as light as he can manage. Checking outside his eye graze over the wet grass and soaked porch and blood. Blood? Against all instincts and common sense he fumbles to unlock the door and swing it open. The slam of his heart falling into his stomach makes him freeze in the doorway. Damp morning air and a strong supplement of blood fills his nose and the home. 

Tears blur his vision. Blurs the scene. If only it could blur the pain. The tearing of his heart. The tearing of his vocal cords. His arms wrap around his cold lifeless body. His once perfectly warm and comforting body. Blood tainting his clothes. His hair. His face. That’s why it had gone quiet. That’s why it did so little. He should’ve listened. He should’ve. 

Ash circles about in the air as the fire crackles.

“You did warn him dear.” Her voice shakes with age, “Make sure you bury all his bones please. We don’t need the dogs getting ahold of them.”

His silence is all she needed to start her way back to the house. Once the hole was deep enough Devland climbed out and watched the flames cook and burn. 

The sun starts to say its goodbyes as Devland passes the stone marked with a knife the engravings read, “Here Lies Harvey Yavall. Blessing from the Gods and keeper of my heart.” 

Within the week word spread like a virus through their small town. 

“Heard it ripped ‘im limb from limb. ‘Course I know what I’m talkin’ about!” 

“Did you hear the tourist got eaten? I know. Should’ve read the warnings.”

“I saw Dev sitting on his porch all week after 6pm! It’s like he’s asking for it to come back!”

Can never escape their eyes and questions for very long. Information about an attack always seems to make its way from friends to the bars and storekeepers. Tourists are known to disregard the posters and concerned warnings. Normally costing precious, sentimental belongings, eyes, legs, lives. Depends on what they run into. They all knew the newest tourist was going to meet one of the supernatural residents at some point or another. It's always the reporters and journalists who stick their noses too far and find the consequences they were told to avoid. It doesn’t make it hurt any less for Devland though.

His drinking habits and risky nightly behaviors made the residents conclude he may have finally snapped. Finally started following in his father’s footsteps.

[sdv-mostly-shane]

Stardew Valley Headcannons : Perfect Valentines Date

1/2 (NSFW)

Bachelors

Alex : A casual date. Something during the day, to avoid the crowds. Would let his partner plan the day, but If he was in charge, then he’d take them out to a big green park, with a private picnic. Champagne, fruit, sandwiches from that little deli that you talked about in the city. He’d bring a ball for you guys to toss around, and wouldn’t mind at all if you were to fall into him, both of you tumbling onto the grass, laughing, smiling, and just too close to him to resist.

Elliot : An artistic date. Valentine’s Day is where Elliot shines - an entire day dedicated to professing your most intimate love through grandiose displays and poetry? Might as well call him Saint Valentine. He’d wake up his partner in bed, Anthology dedicated to them open and ready to read aloud. He’d pick out their partners outfit for an evening date to the poetry house in the city, where he’d spend the entire evening whispering odes of affection, praise, and worship in your ear, not even paying attention to whoever is on stage because *you* are the star

Harvey : A sexy date at home. You KNOW he a kinky mf, don’t let the mustache fool you. He’d go off to work in the morning as if it was any other ordinary day, but don’t be too surprised when you get a text later that afternoon with a very detailed list of instructions on exactly how, where, wearing what, and doing what he wants, and he better find you like that when he gets home or else . (Only with his partners expressed prior consent, of course). You know that old timey ‘bear skin rug in front of the fireplace’ trope? Yeah that’s all he wants for his Valentines.

Sam : A playful date. He normally doesn’t plan the dates, but loves to take the reigns on Valentines. Your cheesy teenage date dreams come true - bowling, mini golf, laser tag, a theme park, anything f u n. Of course, he’d want to get home in time for the evening where he has prepared a cozy blanket fort in the living room, your favorite candies strewn about, and that romcom he secretly loves on the screen. If the night ends with some bare skin cuddling and the candies being put to *alternative* uses, hey, he’s not gonna say no to that.

Sebastian : A secret night time date. He thinks Valentines is a fake holiday, so when he tells you to grab your coat after the sun sets, don’t remind him that today is February 14th-this is just a normal day of making his partner feel special and loved, no pressure (he tells himself). He’d take you out on his bike to a desert river he found earlier that month, saving it for tonight to show you. You’d spend the night striped down, relaxing in the cool water, and striped down emotionally as he told you his hopes and dreams for the future with you.

Shane : The cheesiest romantic date. Literally only one of the dates he ever plans-also of the opinion that Valentines is for commercialism, but for Yoba’s sake he’s in love and this is important to him. Dressed up, hair done, he’d take his partner to their favorite restraunt. Doesn’t matter if that favorite is a five star resort, or fast food burgers, he’s bringing out the candles and wine. After a short walk, hand in hand, he’d take you home where he has your favorite flowers and a small gift for you to unwrap while he draws up a bath. Candle light, those little floating heart votives, rose petals, a plate of strawberries and whipped cream, and your favorite song wait for you. All he wants to do is spend the rest of the night there stuck to you under the hot water.

♡ part 2 ↓ ♡

[imkylotrash]

Meet Me In The Hallway (3)

Pairing: Sky x reader

Summary: Stella is losing patience and when you follow Sky into the forest to find the Burned One, she lets part of your secret slip as a warning. 

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody

Series Masterlist

“I thought I saw you leave Sky’s room and then I thought… That can’t be true. Y/N wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that when they know what I know.”

You really hate Stella. Slowly, you turn around to face her preparing yourself for the venomous smile she no doubt has plastered on her face. Barely anytime has gone by but you’re already getting very tired of having her threaten you.

“Silva is hurt. He needed someone to comfort him. That’s all.” You’re dog-tired wishing for a peaceful sleep but Stella has other plans.

“If Sky needs comforting, I will make sure he gets it. Not you.” It baffles you how she claims to care for him when all she does it look after her own needs. Frankly, you don’t care who gets to comfort him as long as he’s not alone. You’d give up just about anything to make sure he’s happy but Stella seems to think it’s him who should give up everything for her. 

“Are you really that selfish you’ll put your own happiness above his?” you dare ask tired of her games. 

“I’m going to give you one last chance to fix this,” she starts completely ignoring your question. 

“I have to stay away from him. I get it,” you interrupt her about to turn around and walk away when she stops you. 

“I want you to convince him to go on a date with me. He’s been too occupied sulking over you to show any interest in me. I want you to make him realise that I’m the obvious choice.” She must’ve lost her mind. For a whole minute you simply just stare at her taking her words in. She wants you to convince Sky to fall in love with her. In the middle of everything going on with Silva. Is she completely mental? 

“Did you hear me or do I need to repeat myself?” In an attempt to act unbothered, she checks her nails but you see right through her. All the insecurities and abandonment issues shine bright in the dark and you briefly pity her. Everyone has heard the rumours of her mother and the way she’s been treated, but you came from a horrible life too and you didn’t turn into a bitch. 

“I heard you.” 

“Great. You can tell him I’ll be waiting in my room.” She walks past you not even bothering to ask how Silva is doing. Despite your need for some proper sleep, you decide to head down to the greenhouse. Mr. Harvey is adding a fresh coat of the herb mix to Silva’s wounds. 

“Sky is sleeping,” you quickly say to easy Silva’s mind. He sits back down revealing the pain he’s in. 

“Can I help with anything?” you ask needing something to occupy your mind from what Stella asked of you. How can you focus on that when Silva could be dying? 

“Maybe you could cool me down again? It really helped me rest.” You oblige placing your hand on his forehead and channeling just the slightest magic into the palm of your hand. It’s an instant effect when the ice hits him. Slowly his skin returns to a normal shade rather than the hot red it was mere minutes ago. 

“Thank you,” he whispers lying down on the table again. It must be really bad if he’s so willing to show weakness. In the time you’ve known Silva, he’s never shown weakness about anything. You know it would be a different story if Sky were here though. He’d never want Sky to know just how much pain he’s in and you can’t blame him. It would crush Sky. 

“No problem. I can come back in a few hours to do it again?” You look to Mr. Harvey for signs whether that’s a good idea or not. He gives you a quick nod before continuing his work. You mean to head to your room but you spot a blonde boy who’s sneaking out the backdoor. 

“Are you kidding me?” With a sigh, you follow him outside realising that he’s heading straight for the forest. 

“Sky, where are you going?” you ask and the sound of your voice stops him dead in his tracks. 

“I’m going to find the Burned One that got Saul. I can’t just sit around and do nothing.” He’s not looking at you. Probably because he knows you’ll try to talk him out of it. 

“Please stay. Marco is out looking as we speak and I’m sure he’ll find it.” You’re desperate to keep him protected within the barrier but you’re always painfully aware of the fact that Sky is one of the most stubborn people you’ve ever met. You’re not sure you’ll be able to convince him especially now that you’re broken up. 

“I’m not waiting for someone else to save him. Saul is all I have left.” It’s a brutal reminder of what you took from him when you ended things and it tugs at your heartstrings just how badly you hurt him. 

“Then I’m coming with you.” If he’s going out there, you need to be there too. You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to him and you had the chance to stop it. 

“You’re not going with me,” he says as if he has any say at all. 

“If you’re going, I’m going. Package deal, remember?” It’s something you started saying after Riven kept commenting on the fact that you never went anywhere without each other and up until recently you never have. He doesn’t look pleased but he also doesn’t say no. He just hands you a small dagger for you to hold onto to. You grab hold of the water drops lying on the grass and freeze them before levitating them in the air. 

“I think I’m good.” He takes the dagger back without a word and proceeds to the forest. It’s a long trek but you don’t complain. You asked to be here and as much as you hate the uncomfortable silence that’s formed between the two of you, you’re glad you’re here. There’s no point in the search because it’s impossible to figure out what direction the Burned One headed but all you can do is keep a lookout and hope you get lucky. 

“Stop,” you whisper grabbing hold of his sleeve. He stops moving but you feel the shiver in his arm where your fingers grazed his skin. 

“Sorry,” you mumble letting go of him. A little further ahead, you see something move. Sky pulls out his sword and you channel your feelings ready to freeze it in place. It’s not the first time you and Sky has worked together, but it is the first time it’s been outside of training. 

“I freeze, you stab.” He nods hardly moving a muscle. You direct your power at the Burned One freezing every part of it to keep it from moving. You hold it in place feeling the fire inside of it trying to beat your ice but as you see Sky run towards it, you feel more motivated than ever to win. He stabs it right through its core and when you feel its resistance die out, you let go of control. It falls to the ground officially dead. 

“We did it,” you say out of breath. How you haven’t passed out from sleep deprivation yet is beyond you but it’s catching up to you now. 

“I’ll call Silva,” you say ignoring the need to fall asleep right here on the ground. It takes two rings before he picks up shouting about how irresponsible you are for taking off and hunting Burned Ones yourself. He doesn’t say thank you, but you know it’s hidden between the lines. 

“He’s definitely feeling better,” you say once he’s done giving both of you an earful. He demands you both return to school at once and now that you’ve killed the right one, you can oblige easily. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” Sky says on your way back.

“Of course. I know what Silva means to you.” This time the silence is comfortable almost as if nothing went wrong between the two of you. But Stella’s ultimatum is still weighing heavy on your mind. 

“Can I ask you to do something without any questions?” you ask him right before you reach the barrier. 

“What is it?” he asks but you need him to promise you before you tell him. You know he’ll never agree to it otherwise. 

“Promise me,” you say pausing just before the barrier. From here you can see the school and the students training out on the grass as if it’s just a normal day. But to them it probably is.

“I promise.” 

“I need you to take Stella on a date.” His glare might just pierce you from pure anger. 

“No questions. You promised!” He’s about to protest but stops himself. He’s a man of his word even if he hates it right now.

“Fine.” He starts walking leaving you behind. The second people spot you, they stare at you like you just arrived with the circus. 

“Is that them?”

“Do you think it’s true?” 

“Are we in danger?” Everyone is whispering and pointing fingers making you feel incredibly uncomfortable. You notice Musa not too far away and head over to her. 

“What’s going on?” Before she has a chance to tell you, a first year taps you on the shoulder. A bunch of girls are watching from afar making it obvious that the first year in front of you is here on a dare. 

“Is it true?” she asks continuously looking back at her friends. 

“Is what true?” you ask confused ignoring the sneaking suspicion you feel. 

“Is it true that you’re a changeling?” 

[franciebelle-com]

Harvey novel, Chapter One (I think)

As I posted the first time, I have been working on a book focusing on Harvey and a farmer named Lucy. I'm having trouble with Chapter One, and had a sort of existential crisis last week, thinking that everything in this chapter is crap, the book is crap, and generally feeling much self-doubt and despair. So, I could use some constructive criticism. I have cut off the very first part of the chapter for now... it doesn't "sing" for me yet. But this is the part I do like. Let me know what you think.

Hello, Doctor

It was just past four when Mara leaned her head through the door to his office to say good night.  Harvey looked up and thanked her for coming in an extra day this week, and wished her a pleasant weekend. 

Mara was probably the only person in town who knew him as a friend and not just an employer or doctor.  She had been kind to him when he first arrived a few years before and had been ever since.  She was an attractive woman, he thought, not for the first time.  He idly wondered if she was dating anyone, then immediately brushed that aside.  None of your business, he reminded himself.  She was one of the few women in town who paid him any attention, albeit friendly attention.   Thinking of women in town made his stomach clench, like some gremlin inside, tickling his spleen.  Anatomically, he knew that was inaccurate, but it didn’t matter. 

A loud grumble emanated from his belly, the first normal feeling he’d had all day.  It was kind of a relief to be able to identify it as hunger.  At least that was a normal feeling.  He looked forward to a dinner he didn’t have to thaw before cooking tonight.  He checked his watch.  There were a few things to wrap up before leaving, but then, he was done, and able to focus on something else.

The Rusty Anchor was just a short walk away.  Harvey hung up his lab coat, shrugged himself into his jacket, and peered into the mirror behind the sink.  As usual, his hair was untidy, and running his hands through it didn’t improve the look much.  He sighed.  He was looking forward to some sleep tonight.  A cup of coffee might help settle his nerves, but then he thought of that queasiness earlier in the day (and now that he thought about it again, it returned) and thought better of it. 

Coffee.  His belly squeezed again, and the anxiety that had bothered him the night before returned.  A sense of disappointment lingered around the fringe of his awareness, vague and elusive.  It was time to eat.  Maybe that would help settle his equilibrium.  He locked the clinic door and breathed in the warmth of the day, the scent of flowers, cut grass, pines, and the sea.  He looked out across the small square in the center of town, towards the water.  The sun picked out sparkles of brilliance on the undulating waters, and he breathed deeply.  Invigorated, he stepped lightly down the stairs towards the pub. 

Walking in the door, he glanced around briefly, recognizing a few of the local clientele.  He went to an unoccupied spot near the end of the counter, raised a finger at the barman, who came over as soon as he caught it. 

“Hi, Doc!  What can I get for you tonight?  Same as last time?”  Gil was smiling, friendly as ever.

“Is the bottle still good?”

“I’ll check.”

“Thanks, Gil.  It’s a good vintage!”  A glass of wine after work was always a good way to relax.  Considering the week he’d been having, he contemplated having two.  That would certainly act as a soporific.  And maybe tonight, he’d have Gil’s spaghetti.  It was his specialty:  The pasta handmade daily, the sauce from locally grown tomatoes, and the meatballs made from a closely guarded family secret, according to Gil.  He thought he might skip the meatballs, though, considering his intestinal activity during the day.  Something greasy or fatty wouldn’t be a wise option.

He heard the pub door creak open, and turned to look at who had come in.  Just some of the local women, probably having their occasional girls’ night.  His stomach gremlin had intensified its squirming the minute he heard the door open, and he felt a rush of heat to his limbs, tingling slightly.  What the hell was wrong with him?  Fever?  Maybe he shouldn’t have that second glass after all, he thought.

Gil returned with his wine.  Harvey thanked him and raised his glass to Gil, who smiled, and turned to attend the ladies at the table on the other side of the pub.  He would wait for Gil to come back before ordering dinner.  He looked around, checking tonight’s population.  The usual group of guys lounging in the game room, puffing a cigarette or two and shooting pool.  He could tell it was a re-match for Mick and Dylan, as the wagers and cheers rose in volume.  Dylan almost always won, mostly because Mick accepted too many beers of encouragement and lost his accuracy with each one.  Harvey missed having friends to join, as he had back in medical school.  Most of them were now employed across the country, although a few worked in the city, but that was at least an hour away in good traffic.  Not on a Friday night, though. 

The mayor, Mortimer (“call me Morty”) Lewis, had taken Harvey around to meet various members of the community after his original arrival in the area, and had probably thought that Harvey would have something in common with the local young men.  They were a small group of twenty-somethings who mostly knew each other from having grown up in the area, and who hung out together frequently.  Their communications were frequently punctuated with guffaws and arm punches, as well as high-fives.  Harvey recalled the first friendly shoulder-punch he received from one of them when he’d joined them in his first year at the clinic, and winced inwardly. 

The door opened with a light screech, and Marti, Mayor Lewis’ local friend, entered, hailing the mayor immediately, working her way over to his table.  Soon they were deep in conversation.  His gaze passed over the rest of the room, recognizing some acquaintances and a few patients.  The local barfly, Pat, loudly asked Gil for another “one of the good stuff.”  She stood alone at the opposite end of the bar from Harvey.  Catching his glance as she received her drink, she gave him a leering grin, and raised her frothy mug to him.  He blushed and continued looking around.  Mara and her friends were nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t arrive eventually. 

Harvey peered down into his glass.  He knew the wine was nearing the end of its prime, having been open for several days, and he savored the aroma before sipping.  Most of the guys around here drank beer, ale, mead, or hard liquor, but only a few men drank wine.  Still, Gil did have a decent collection of good vintages, so rather than buy a bottle and let it go bad at home before he could finish it, he chose to enjoy the supply Gil provided. 

The door creaked again, and another man came in, a fellow wine enthusiast who nodded to Harvey.  His long, bronze hair moved as gracefully as the man himself did.  His arrival was not unnoticed by the people in the pub.  Heads seemed to turn collectively at him when he entered a room, and Harvey could have sworn that Desmond always had a breeze flowing through his wavy mane.  Desmond kept himself somewhat apart from people in the area, preferring to spend time in his cabin on the beach, apparently occupied as a writer.  This gave an air of mystique to his personality, something Harvey suspected was deliberately cultivated.  Women seemed to wilt slightly whenever Desmond talked to them, and Harvey envied his ease and suavity.  Maybe it was the burgundy velvet jacket, something few men could really pull off successfully.

The door admitted a couple of men, and Harvey ordered his dinner from Ellie, who worked at the pub in the evenings.  He inspected the contents of his glass again, listening to the hum of various conversations, laughs, and the liveliness of the people gathered here.  He’d heard the old saying that no man was an island, but he wasn’t sure that was true.  After a few minutes, Ellie brought him his entrée, and he took it and his glass to a booth near the back of the pub where he could eat more privately.  He didn’t see other people eat their meals standing at the bar, only appetizers or snacks, and honestly, he preferred to eat while seated.  He enjoyed his meal quietly, appreciating the convivial, relaxed ambiance of the end of the week. 

The pub door squealed, but he didn’t know the woman who came through.  For a moment, the shadows by the doorway made her hair seem dark, and his pulse picked up.  He followed her movements as she joined a companion in a booth, and his pulse subsided the moment her light brown hair was illuminated by the light above the table.  False alarm.

Disgusted with himself, he decided that he’d had enough of this.  Stifling a yawn, he checked the time.  It was later than he usually stayed.  He finished his wine, asked for a takeout box for the remainder of his dinner, paid his bill, and headed out the door.  It had been a long day, and his lack of sleep and weird anxiety had worn him out. 

The lingering scent of leaves and grass in the warm night air reminded Harvey of summer evenings in college, when he’d take walks to a local lookout to contemplate life, the future, and simply daydream.  It was a narrow strip of park at the edge of a cliff overlooking the bay.  In the evening, it was dotted with the lights of boats, residences, and businesses around the lip of the water, reflected in bright ripples across the waves.  It was also a favorite couples’ hangout, so he didn’t stick around too long after dark.  Not part of a couple, he felt awkward being there alone, and he’d decamp back to his dorm. 

He felt the same way now, actually; slightly disappointed, as if something was missing.  Unable to identify the source of this feeling, he walked back to the clinic, let himself in, and went up the stairs at the end of the hallway.  Inside the now dark apartment, he opened the fridge, a shallow wedge of light illuminating the small space he called a kitchen, and deposited his leftover spaghetti.  It was looking rather bare in the fridge, just a few water bottles, some fruit in one drawer, a half-full jar of dill wedges, a paper basket of mushrooms, salad dressing, salsa, and other condiments.  The grocery store was definitely one of his errands for Saturday.

He shouldered his jacket off, brushing it a little before hanging it over a chair at his work table.  He listened to night sounds outside the windows.  He left them open during the day to let air circulate, with screens to keep the insects out.  He didn’t bother to turn on any lights, and walked to a faded brown leather armchair he’d found in the city a few years ago.  It was unusual, shaped a bit like the letter U, with a back not quite tall enough to keep his head fully upright when he sat in it. Loosening his tie, he pulled at the top few buttons on his shirt, and dragged out his shirttails.  That was better.  He sat with his arms propped on the edges of the chair, and slouched into a comfortable position, stretching his legs out fully.

The studio apartment was fairly spacious, convenient, and was included with the lease of the clinic.  It was a pretty good deal for a first practice, and he liked it here.  The people in the community were friendly, some a bit idiosyncratic, but pleasant.  The town itself was fairly small, and residences spread out from this central hub, extending to the forest, the waterfront, and the mountains.  The further you got from town, the landscape bloomed into farmland.  This was a good area in which to settle, a homey sort of environment, far away from the harsh, cold glass and steel of the city.  Most of the houses he’d seen were quaint and cozy, and the residents generally the same. 

The silence in the apartment was sometimes overwhelming, however, filling him with a deep longing for something more.  He knew something was missing from his existence, something ephemeral, just out of his reach.  Sitting here alone in the gloom was not an effective method to find a solution, he knew.  He felt the absence of human companionship the most in these hours of the night.  He tried to picture a woman, imagining the warmth of another body nestled up in the chair with him, legs draped over his, reading, or just talking.  He thought of a child in their arms, trusting, sleeping, heck, even drooling on his shirt.  But the image was vague and didn’t linger long, leaving him just as solitary as he was every day.

He slipped off his shoes without moving from the chair, settling in a little, and letting the strange feelings of the recent days seep out of his bones and fade into a gray haze, his chin slowly drawing lower as he slipped into an exhausted sleep.

[stardewayfruit]

Stardew Valley Party Headcanons

Houseparty headcanons! I've just been thinking about this scenario forever so here it is!

Emily and Haley almost always host, and Emily invites her cool friends from Calico Desert and Zuzu City

Farmer Lilith always brings her homemade wine which everyone goes crazy for

Abigail pulls up with the most random and obscure sounding hard liquor, claiming that she found it in the mines

Everyone is skeptical for a minute but after they have a taste they decide it’s fine

Sam was supposed to be in charge of food but after he came back with a single loaf of bread and some skittles, Leah and Penny were put in charge of groceries

Sam was instead demoted promoted to DJ

Shane and Elliot get plastered and have a drunk sing-off with each other, which normally results in the two lying down on the living room floor, belting their hearts out

Harvey takes his seat on the couch and limits himself to a single beer, watching over Shane and Elliot

"Please, you guys-just keep your singing volume to a minimum"

Harvey is tired. So tired.

Haley walks around taking pictures of everyone, making sure she captured everyone's funny yet embarrassing moments

Sebastian takes his liquor like a champ??? He will outdrink anyone and still keep his composure

Eventually, everyone gets together for a game of beer pong

Alex and Shane destroy everyone (gridball kings)

Sam and Abigail absolutely suck at this game

“Bro it’s not fair!! At least put Shane on our team!”

They both get pretty drunk from losing

At some point Sebastian disappears for a smoke outside

You find him lying in the grass, puffing on a cigarette

“I fell….”

Maybe the shots did catch up to him

Eventually Sam joins the two of you and he pulls out a joint for the three of you to share

Back inside, Alex is challenging anybody to an arm wrestling competition

Harvey, much more sober than Alex, promptly takes the challenge and wins fairly easily

Everyone starts yelling and cheering for Harvey, including Alex

Everyone starts to leave at around 2am, Harvey hauling Shane and Elliot with him to sleep in the clinic (they’re fine, Harvey just doesn’t wanna take them all the way to their houses lol)

Penny and Sebastian stay the latest to help Emily and Haley clean up

That’s all for now!! Emily and Haley throw some fun parties:0 Hopefully one day they’ll entrust Sam to get good snacks

[queen-scribbles]

I was silly and deleted the ask, but I had an anon who wanted “I couldn’t sleep” off the yearning prompts. I decided to be mean to The Babies(Trinne via nightmares, Harvey via pining /cough), so have a lil pre-Orzammar snippet.

----

Second watch was the quietest most nights. That was why he liked it. Unlike Trinne, who dubbed that shift the most boring and avoided it like the plague, Harvey appreciated the quiet. With a group as big as theirs now was, quiet was nigh impossible to find during the day. Drawing this watch was almost a relief.

Grass rustled nearby and he turned a curious look in that direction. It was, as expected, just a rabbit. Should have set some snares, floated through his mind. Alistair and Trinne both ate enough for three(when they could get it), bolstering their supplies was always a good call. But it was too dark to do anything about the oversight now.

Harvey plucked a long blade of grass and started absently knotting it as he scanned over the surroundings again. The Frostbacks were so different from the mountains and cliffs near the Coastlands... It made the terrain almost familiar but ultimately not, and drove him to keep an even keener eye out than normal. It would be a special kind of bullshit to get ambushed or something this close to succeeding at their goal.

The soft swish of footsteps through grass was his only warning of an end to his solitude, and he looked up just as Trinne came to an uncertain halt a foot or so from where he sat.

“I... sorry, do you, um, mind company?” she mumbled.

Harvey shook his head. He had been enjoying the quiet, but her company would be good, too. Especially with her defensively hunched posture and the rough edge to her voice painting a clear--and familiar--picture why she was asking.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she offered hoarsely as she sat on the ground and hugged her knees into her chest.

“Again?” It escaped before he could catch it.

Trinne wrinkled her nose and ran one hand through her hair. “I know. There was awhile I thought-” her voice cracked and she hesitated and it made something in his chest ache. She shook her head. “But they’ve been gettin’ worse again and I dunno if it’s just my luck, or if it’s ‘cause the Archdemon’s getting stronger.”

Or both. Harvey bit back the cynical thought. “I wish there was a way to help...” he said quietly.

“Company.” She flashed a wry smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Company helps. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad Alistair sleeps like a rock so I don’t wake him every time this happens, but...” A sigh, then she repeated, softer, “Company helps.”

He nodded silently, still tying knots in the blade of grass. That was the pattern, he knew; nights the Warden dreams drove her awake, Trinne would crawl out to sit with whoever was on watch. Most times she was fine sitting in silence, just wanted to not be alone. This must have been a bad one. 

Several minutes of silence rolled by, both of them staring off into the dark, if for different reasons.  He hated feeling so helpless. Trinne’s posture hadn’t eased from its defensive hunch any of the times he glanced over to check on her. And when she finally broke the silence, a faint tremble still clung to her voice, even if the hoarseness had faded. 

“You could go get some sleep,” she offered, then cleared her throat, flicking a nearby dandelion and watching the winged seeds dance off into the darkness.  “This one was a doozy, I don’t think I’ll be gettin’ more myself any time soon.”

Harvey shook his head. “I’m doing alright.” And I’m not leaving you alone. “It’s only another hour or so, I’ll be fine.”

This, too, had become a familiar dance over the past several months.

This smile reached her eyes and felt like an accomplishment. “Alright, Cousland, your loss.”

Harvey chuckled quietly at the needling, glad for a sign she was feeling better. I’m not the one losing sleep half the time, he was polite enough to not point out. “I like the quiet.”

This I know, her eyes said playfully as she rested her chin on her knees. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m good,” he promised with a half-smile of his own, watching her tension ease just a fraction.

Trinne gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment and they lapsed into silence again. It took almost the full remainder of his watch, but she did eventually relax, uncurling from her hunched pose to sit cross-legged, tracing random doodles in the dirt. Then, finally, she took a deep breath and used his knee to help lever herself back to her feet(long habit and good reflexes helped him brace in time).

“Thanks, Harvey,” she whispered before she tiptoed back to her tent.

“Anytime,” he murmured, and she paused to give a grateful smile. 

Harvey scanned the surroundings again as she left and tried to ignore the part of him wondering if she knew just how deeply he meant it.

[soulsofcaos]

@xsafexspace

harvey kinkle asked:

‘ we’re at a graveyard late at night , what did you think was going to happen ? ‘

sabrina spellman answered:

♔━━━━━━━━━━━━━┑

Oh.. nothing out of the usual, absolutely nothing at all.

The snowy haired witches crimson lips was tugging into a small smirk, it was approaching Halloween afterall - that meant two things. Sabrina's birthday and more late night watching hours because October was the month for the 'oogie boogies' to come creeping out of the woodworks, especially at the Spellman Mortuary.

"Well... maybe some normality of things that remained dead" she announced, using her spade to swiftly glide through the air in one slice as she took the head off the zombie that had raised out of the ground; soil and mounds of grass shaken and cracking against the surface. The graves had been undisturbed until now, and even now she was questioning who the hell had their hold on this part of land to create such an army of walking dead like creatures.

"Get a weapon Harv, you can't just stand there" - the witch stepped across the cracks just to reach the grassy bank "hurry!"

Harvey tried not to flinch as the misshapen head rolled across the ground. He momentarily screwed his eyes shut, willing himself not to make -- god, was it eye contact if the eyes were rotten? He bit back the bile that rose in his throat. Images he wanted so hard to repress still flashed in in his minds eye. Tommy. They were all like Tommy.

Harvey’s hand stretched to wrap around the neck of his guitar, the only thing waking him up being the sound of Sabrina’s voice. Now wasn’t the time to be chicken shit. 

A low hissing sounded from behind his back, causing him to jump and spin around, pulling his guitar out of it’s strap before tightening his grip and letting it smash into the side of the zombie. “Holy shit!” He yelled, eyes widening as the creature tumbled down. He hestitated as a smidgen of guilt coursed through him, but brushed it to the side as his head turned to seek out the witch. 

Soon his feet were pounding against the pavement, struggling to catch up. “What the hell, ‘Brina?” He breathed, creatures rising from all around them. He finally got close enough to stand near her shoulder, eyes shifting around them in a panic. “I’m guessing we’re NOT in a music video?”

[pikablob]

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ have a bunch of these!!

It's a heave-ho! ho-ho! Coming down the plains And I'm stealing wheat and barley and all the other grains And it's a ho-hey! hi-hey! Farmer bar your door When you see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shore

from The Last Saskatchewan Pirate, by the Derina Harvey Band

For a pretty long time this has been associated in my head with Captain Celaeno from the G4 MLP movie, as someone who abandoned menial work to be a pirate; I actually based a D&D character off her and used this song as her theme, creating a whole town based on the song:

A seed of an idea, like mustard greens Like newborn fingers Curled and half asleep Awake with a thunder from underneath Stretch up and reach through The hardest part of me

from Rio Grande, by the Oh Hellos

A lot of Zephyrus vibes with Aster and the Accidental Magic for me (in general the Oh Hellos have that vibe), but this particular song I really like for Aestas, as an immortal being but one who's just a normal person who I tend to headcanon as pretty lonely before she meets Aster:

They sat down together, the grass it was green And the day was the finest that ever was seen The look in your eye beats a mornin' in May I could lay by your side till the next market day

from Next Market Day by Noel McLoughlin:

I haven't listened to this one in a long time, but it does already have an association for me; the story of meeting an alluring stranger while out travelling really vibed with N and his relationship with Hilda (or FerrisWheelShipping) from Pokemon Black & White:

Hey, young blood, doesn't it feel Like our time is running out? I'm going to change you like a remix Then I'll raise you like a phoenix

from The Phoenix, by Fall Out Boy

This is a weird one, because this song is actually a theme for two completely different characters in my head; it has always been Mai's theme in my Multiverse AU, but now it's also Sasha's Calamity theme in Titanomachy, largely because their arcs are very similar:

There beside the singing river That dark mass of men were seen, Far above their shining weapons hung Their own beloved green. Death to every foe and traitor, Forward strike the marching tune, And hurrah me boys for freedom, 'Tis the Rising of the Moon.

from The Rising of The Moon, by the Clancy Brothers feat. Tommy Makem

Thanks to a mod, this is already a theme in my head, specifically the main theme of Nora (as general) and the Commonwealth Minutemen in Fallout 4:

When the world seems grim and dark When the sky won't show a star When fog is thicker than the sea Travel through the blackest night In the forest hides a light You'll find it if you follow me

from Oh The Bliss, by Dan Romer feat. Jenny Owen Youngs

All of the cult music from Far Cry 5 is associated with Infinity Train, and specifically the Apex, in my head; both versions of Oh The Bliss are actually Hazel's themes, partially due to the vibes and partially due to the line "In the forest hides a light":

[daphne-townsen]

“Should we count her toes again?”

“And her fingers.”

“Look at her hair.”

“I told you. Just like yours.”

There’s a moment; a breath’s pause between Abram and I, where we look at each other in the shadows of the nursery. I’m on his lap and his arms are around me and in my arms is our daughter - Diana - and she is perfect, truly, gloriously, one hundred percent perfect, and I cannot believe my life is so full and that I have a daughter, that my husband and I made this tiny little thing with red hair like his and cheeks like mine. I can’t stop staring at her, or smelling the sweetness of her hair, or lightly tracing my fingertips over her lips and eyebrows and nose. 

“I love her so much, Abram,” I can’t help but to say, and my voice catches on his name. I feel his arms tighten around me, and his mouth presses against my neck. 

“I know,” he murmurs, “I love you both. So much.”

“I know,” I tell him, my lips curving slightly to allow for a little smile, though it’s hard to see in the darkness of the nursery. I curl myself even closer against him, turning my head to find his lips in the dark. At our feet, Harvey sleeps; he does not like to be parted from us and even more so with the birth of our daughter. I can’t help but to think of the future for a moment; Diana up and walking and Harvey chasing after her; of grass-stained chubby baby knees and kisses from Harvey, laughter and barking. Our life will be so wonderful. 

It already is. 

I lean my head back down to kiss Diana’s forehead softly. My love, my dream, my little soulmate. My mind wanders as Abram dozes off, his cheek settling against my shoulder. He snores a little, but I’ve never minded; never minded anything my husband does, and he has given me - us - the greatest gift; though he’d argue and tell me that I did. But it takes two, and I’ll happily take half the credit for the sleeping angel in my arms. 

“My girl,” I murmur gently, fondly, lovingly into her little ear, and she stirs slightly, her nose scrunching before smoothing out, continuing to dream whatever it is that babies dream. 

Selfishly, I hope it’s of me. I hope it’s of Abram and I. 

Lately, she’s all I’ve been dreaming about. Her delivery in particular…

TWO WEEKS AGO

“I still can’t believe how big you are.”

“Ruby.”

“I say it lovingly,” Ruby, my sister, says, holding up her hands in a placating gesture as she laughs. It’s morning. Abram’s working on something in the nursery with Killian and my sister and I are downstairs in the kitchen. I’m currently soaking up the last bit of toast in the beans Ruby had made - I wanted a traditional English breakfast that morning, something I normally can’t get away with if my sister isn’t around. 

Try as I might, there are some things my American husband refuses to touch, and this is one of them. When Ruby and her husband, Killian, arrived a few days ago, that was the first thing out of my mouth. Pregnancy has increased my homesickness tenfold, especially these last few weeks. I know it’s not necessarily for England so much as it’s for the feeling of home I feel when I’m with my sister, who is newly pregnant herself; though you couldn’t tell unless you knew her. Still, she’s newly taken to setting a hand on her bump and doesn’t realize she’s doing it. I’ve caught Killian catching her at it several times over the course of their stay, how he places both of his hands over hers, leans down to whisper something in her ear that makes her laugh and I can’t really describe what it is to see that Ruby and I have found our soulmates in this life, and that our happiness is multiplying. I’m just so goddamn motherfucking happy and knowing that Ruby is as well - 

“Oh my god, are you crying?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I say, pressing my hands to my face. Hormones. This is probably the only thing I won’t miss about being pregnant; how nearly anything will make me cry at the drop of a hat. 

“Oh, you,” Ruby says, coming over to where I’m sitting and bringing a tissue with her. She hands it to me and I shake my head as I wipe my eyes, steadying myself with a deep breath. “What is it this time?”

“You,” I say simply, figuring there’s no point in lying or trying to hide it. “Just thinking about how we’ve found our own happiness despite the odds being stacked against us since birth. You know, normal shit.”

She laughs. “My beautiful sister.”

“Ruby,” I say warningly, balling the tissue up loosely in my fist. “Don’t.”

“I won’t,” she replies, though there’s a trace of mirth pulling at her lips and I know she’s working hard to conceal her grin. “In hopes that you won’t do it to me when I’m nine months and crying over a tea cosy.”

“Oh my god, that was one time -”

“So you’ve said.” Ruby pats my shoulder good-naturedly, but I can tell by her expression that she doesn’t believe me. There are worse things, however, so I return to my plate and eat the last bite, pushing it away once I’m done and setting both of my hands on my fully-rounded stomach.

“Where are our husbands to clean up after us?” I say loudly, and Ruby makes a shushing motion with her finger pressed to her lips. But she’s smiling. 

“Bonding over baby stuff and having two pregnant wives, I imagine,” my sister says with a laugh, and begins to clear away the plates. I instinctively move to help her but she whirls around so fast it hurts my neck to watch her and she points to my seat. “Absolutely not,” Ruby tells me firmly. “Not while you’re pregnant with my niece.”

“What is this, 1880? Ruby, I can manage to wash a plate or two. And also, you’re pregnant too,” I say, but I’m already in the process of sitting back down. Okay, and my swollen ankles. I won’t miss that, either. 

“Ow -” I press a hand to my lower back - or what I can reach of it, anyway, and Ruby looks over at me, concern pulling her brows together. 

“I’m fine,” I say, immediately waving her off, and for half a second, it’s completely true, I am fine, and then the next - 

“Ruby?”

“Hm?” She’s focusing on rinsing a pot and doesn’t look at me.

“I think - my water just broke.” 

She pauses for just a moment -

“HUSBANDS!!!!!”

It’s a little blurry after that, really, everything happened so fast and so quickly. My baby bag for the hospital had been packed for two months solid, so it was really just a matter of grabbing that, making sure everyone had shoes on, and then we were out the door, piling up into our Range Rover - Killian driving and Ruby’s up front next to him while Abram and I sit in the back. 

It’s a decently slower day at the hospital and Dr. Zamora greets all of us upon our arrival. 

“Ready to meet your baby girl?” she asks me after I’m wheeled into the delivery room and set up on the bed. 

“After the epidural, yes,” I say between one round of breathing exercises and another, and Abram, who of course has not left my side since the car ride, laughs. Ruby is also here, though Killian had stepped out for a moment to get me a cup of ice chips. 

After that, honestly, things do get blurry and sequentially a little out of order for me. I was given an epidural, which helped, but I ended up being in labor for something like twelve hours, and in that space of time I had told Abram to go to hell, threw a cup at his head and besmirched the good name of my sister and her husband. Allegedly. 

Naturally, I have no memory of any of this.

What I do remember, however, is helping Dr. Zamora pull Diana out. Her little cries, the blueness of her face and fingertips and toes before she took her first real gulp of air, Abram cutting the umbilical cord, how she fit perfectly against my chest. The warm, bright life of her settled right against my heart.

“Diana?” Abram was already crying, kissing my face and Diana’s repeatedly. Our tears mixed on my lips, got into my mouth, dripped down my chin and onto her perfect soft little head. 

“Diana Ruby Townsen,” I corrected him, and that’s when Ruby started to cry. Killian turned away from us and pulled his wife into his arms, muttering something about how bright it was in there and could they do something about that?

I leaned down to kiss my daughter’s head, as I’ve done one thousand times a day since her birth. My concern over not being a good enough mother instantly evaporated the moment she was placed into my arms. All I want to do is ensure her happiness, her well-being. Teach her how to be a good, kind, thoughtful human, how to raise her in love. How not to forget where she came from. 

Looking around me in the delivery room, surrounded by the kind of love I had dreamed about for so long, I know she won’t.

[scaryscarecrows]

Breathe In, Breathe Out (Let the Human In)

AN: Happy deathday, Jason! Title from Of Monsters and Men's 'Human'. Arkham Asylum alternate ending thingy.

TW for attempted suicide.

* * *

It’s the Joker’s fault.

Well, okay, fine, it’s ninety percent the Joker’s fault and ten percent Cobblepot being a nosey Nellie, but because she hates him and he isn’t her boss, Dove is going to lay all the blame on the clown.

And he’s the one who made this spectacle, so there.

Whoever’s fault it is, Cobblepot demanded they trek to Arkham. He says that it’s because he’s a donor and has rights to see what’s going on. Dove knows for a fact he hasn’t donated a damn cent since his stint as the mayor way back when, but he’s playing at being Legal for now and, well, she’s curious too. Batman is there. Arkham’s got a pretty full house tonight. And the news is saying something about monsters.

The news is not wrong. Batman is here, on the roof, with--

Oh my God.

That’s. That’s Joker, but...but he’s done something to himself. Something awful. He’s monstrous, with...with spines (no, not spines, his spine, his bones) jutting up out of his torn back, and he’s. He’s huge, big enough to pick up Batman. And Dove’s been up close to Batman before, been picked up by the guy, even. He’s not small.

“What’s going on?” Cobblepot demands. He’s not alone. She recognizes some of the men gathered here, at the police barricade. Most of them are as corrupt as they come. “Jim! Jim, come here, I demand--”

“You don’t get to demand anything--”

Above them, Joker laughs. Dove has faith that Batman will stop him. He always does.

(He has to.)

She ducks, though, when the clown turns to peer down at them, and turns her head away. And that’s the only reason she sees the thin, trembling shadow stumbling out from one of the buildings.

Between the floodlights and the chopper, the lawn’s lit right up. The orange jumpsuit sticks out like a sore thumb and her first thought is ZSASZ.

“Harvey!” Harvey Bullock turns, toothpick already half-shredded in his teeth. “There’s a--”

“Shit--”

The shadow goes down and no, that’s not Zsasz. There’s hair. Harvey approaches so Jim can deal with this shitshow, turns the man(?) onto his back. There’s silence, followed by a horrified, “What the fuck?”

“What now?”

“What is going on--”

“Harvey?”

An explosion draws Jim back to his radio, shouting at the chopper to GET BACK GET OUT OF THERE RIGHT NOW. Dove risks inching towards Harvey and the orange shadow.

“Harvey?”

“Jesus Christ…” He’s all but sitting on his hands. “Jesus Christ, kid, what happened to you?”

Kid? That’s a kid?

“Who is that?”

He looks up, hat falling off.

“I think it’s Robin.”

No, Robin would be...up…

Oh.

Oh, my God.

She does go closer at that, and it is Robin. Not the current one, the new one, but the one before. The one Joker...Joker’d got hold of him...God, over a year ago, now, sent a tape out a few months back.

He’d been dead. Finally, Dove remembers thinking guiltily, out of his misery.

But apparently not. He’s older than she remembers (of course he is), but...but there’s a brand on his face, a goddamn ‘J’ burned into his skin like he’s a piece of meat rather than a boy, and he’d had that…

“Robin?” she whispers. “Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

He’s breathing, harsh, ragged gasps that stutter and catch (broken ribs or scared or...?), and he flinches when Joker starts laughing again.

“What did that bastard do to you, kid?” Harvey breathes, finally inching out a hand to brush against the orange jumpsuit. The thing’s hanging off the kid’s frame and it’s stained and torn. “Jesus…”

Robin’s eyes flicker open, and a second later he jolts upright for all of four seconds before collapsing back to the grass.

“No no no--”

“Robin. Robin! Look at me, sweetheart, c’mon, you’re okay, you’re okay, just--”

He freezes, eyes going from the medical building to Harvey to her. Then he swallows, hard, and whispers, “This is real?”

Harvey shucks off his coat and lays it over him as gently as possible.

“Here you go, kid. Just. Just stay real still, huh? Everything’s fine. You’re fine.”

“You promise--you promise you’re not--”

“Shh.” Dove reaches over, intending to just...ruffle his hair, or something, and he flinches back, eyes squeezed shut like he thinks she’s going to hurt him.

“No no please m’sorry m’sorry--”

“Don’t be sorry, honey.” Jesus… “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re okay, you’re gonna be okay, it’s over. We’re not gonna hurt ya, honey, I promise.”

He just lies there, shuddering under Harvey’s coat, and finally opens his eyes to look up at the sky.

“S’over?” he breathes. “I...you promise…” He cuts himself off with a choked sob and spits out, “I can’t go back.”

Jim’s suddenly there, confused and demanding to know, “What’s going on? Who the hell--”

Robin jerks at the suddenness of it all and the next thing Dove knows, he’s jolted up and all but crawled into her lap.

“What the hell--”

“Please--”

“Dammit, Jim, now look what you did--”

“Sh-sh-sh, kiddo, s’just Jim. S’just Jim.” Robin the Second is not pocket-sized. Once upon a time, almost. Enough. But pocket-sized or not, he’s emaciated and feverish and terrified. “S’just Jim.”

“It’s Robin,” Harvey’s explaining, voice cracking and shocked. “Jesus, Jim, it’s fuckin’ Robin, Joker didn’t--he’s still alive--”

Robin cringes at another explosion, scrunching down and burying his head against her neck with a whimper. Dove risks touching the back of his head, and when he doesn’t panic, runs her fingers through his hair. It’s matted and stiff and there’s a lump at the base of his skull.

“Shh, shh,” she murmurs. “It’s okay, you’re okay...we gotcha, we gotcha…”

“Mm--”

“Shh, Robin--”

“Jason,” he whispers, so quiet that she nearly misses it. “S’Jason--h-he would’a come for Robin an’ he left me with him--”

That is a can of worms she’s not getting into.

“Okay. Okay, Jason.”

He’s quiet after that, breathing slow and careful and clearly trying to calm himself down. And he’s almost there, or at least he’s not crying anymore, when Batman is suddenly there.

“Jim--”

Jason flinches and tries to curl into a ball, whispering, “Nonono I can’t do this again I can’t do this again…”

Batman stills and sinks into a crouch. Jason’s trembling in Dove’s arms and when Batman half-reaches towards him he all but knocks her over trying to get away.

“Shh, baby, shh, s’just Batman--”

“Get away!” He pulls free and crab-crawls backwards before collapsing on the grass. “Get away from me--please--”

She’s seen Batman be still before, but not like this. He’s, well, he’s shocked. Jason’s shuddering with dry sobs, and when Batman does finally move again, he squirms back behind Dove.

“Sweetheart, no one’s gonna hurt you--”

“You left me!” He jabs an accusing finger at the Bat. “You left me with him, you replaced me, you left me to die!” He struggles to his knees, wheezing. “Joke’s on you, Batman, I didn’t! So tell them! Tell them what happened, just...just…” He wobbles and winds up curled on his side, shaking. “Where the hell were you?”

Batman just looks at him like he can’t believe he’s here and breathes, “I thought you were dead.”

To be fair, that was...everyone did. Joker had sent that tape around, laughing all the while, and…

“Not the whole time,” Jason spits. “You replaced me in what, a week? If? Come on, Batman, quit hiding behind your pathetic excuses! World’s greatest detective, my ass, if you were, you would. Have. Looked.”

“Robin--”

“I’m not Robin anymore! Robin’s dead!” He pauses, and a sick smile creeps over his face. “Or. I guess not, huh? You got a nice, shiny new one! Where’d you find this one, the Wal-Mart parking lot? Amazon dot fucking com? Inquiring minds wanna know!”

Batman’s still and silent. Twenty feet away, the Joker’s being loaded onto a gurney. He’s normal-sized again, looks like shit (good), and giggling; until he thrashes his head.

And sees what’s going on.

Joker doesn’t laugh all the time. That’s a common misconception. But he laughs enough that when he stops, when that smile drops, that most people would rather be locked in a room with Scarecrow than be anywhere near him.

And he’s not laughing now.

“How did you…”

Jason freezes, smile vanishing. He manages, somehow, to go even paler before curling into a small ball, arms over his head.

“Get that animal out of here,” Batman snarls, and Dove’s never heard him sound like that. She’s not scared of the Bat...but tonight, she could be.

“How did you get out, you sorry little brat?!” The clown jerks against the restraints and they rattle. They’re not gonna give, surely they’re not gonna give, he’s small again--

Batman’s suddenly right up against him, hand at his throat.

“That’s enough.”

Joker looks from Jason to Batman and back again before plastering that godawful grin back on his face.

“You don’t think he wants you back, do you?” His voice is strangled. “Not after everything you’ve done--oog!”

Mercifully-finally-Batman slams his head back hard enough to either knock him out or shut him up. Dove doesn’t care which. He steps back, turns around, and finds Harvey Bullock in his space.

Harvey...Harvey talks a big game. But he’s a big old softie, really, and he had a fondness for Robin the Second*. And a long-standing distrust of Batman. With everything that happened, that distrust had only grown.

“I think you owe the kid some answers,” he says, voice trembling with barely-suppressed rage. “Where were you, exactly? How did you miss this?”

“Get out of my way, Bullock.”

“How long was he missing before you mentioned it? Or kidnapped the current one, huh? If you’d kept that pointy nose of yours out of our cases for once--”

“Bullock--”

“--you might’ve found him!”

Batman is, surprise, surprise, silent. Dove knows this kind of silence; men get like this before they. Before they hurt people.

“Bullock,” he says at last, voice very, very, low, “step aside before I force you aside.”

He’s bloody, holding one arm funny, and breathing far too evenly. Even Jim’s wary now, one hand inching towards his gun. Harvey huffs.

“Screw you,” he says, but he’s not dumb enough to fight Batman, and he steps aside. Batman’s still pissed, still ready for what Dove knows will be a one-sided fight, but he manages a stiff nod before turning that laser-focus back to Jason.

Jason’s still huddled in a ball. The fight’s gone out of him, the insane smile and that...that shine in his eyes. He’s not looking at Batman though, or at Joker. He’s just curled over his knees, arms wound around his ribs and head ducked down. Defensive, ready for a beating.

“Hey-hey, baby,” she murmurs, “no one’s gonna hurt you. Come on now, you’re okay.”

Jason uncurls a little, eyes wide, and before anyone can react he’s lunged at Jim and gotten the pistol out of his holster and aimed it at Batman.

“M’not doing this again,” he says, carefully flat. “M’not falling for it.”

“Robin--”

“Kid--”

“M’not falling for this again!” His eyes are wide and tears are running down his cheeks, but his hands are steady. Too steady. “I remember! I learned my lesson! M’not gonna let you get close enough to beat the crap outta me again!”

“Robin,” Batman breathes, and he’s not scary anymore. He’s just a man. “Robin, I never--”

“Stay back!”

Everybody knows Batman can disarm people in the blink of an eye. Dove’s not so sure he can get that gun from Jason before he pulls the trigger.

Jesus Christ, what did Joker do to him…

“All right,” Batman says softly. “All right. I’ll stay right here, and you can put the gun down--”

“No!” The word echoes off the buildings, a frantic, NONONONONONONONONO! “You think I’m stupid?” He laughs. It’s a flat, angry laugh that reminds Dove uncomfortably of the Joker. “You always did, huh?”

“I never--”

“Shut up!” Now he’s starting to shake a little and she sees Harvey shift, just a bit. Jason doesn’t appear to notice. “Just shut up, stop talking to me!”

“Hey. Kid.” What the fuck, Harvey? “C’mon, look at me.” Harvey steps closer. “C’mon. He’s not gonna get ya, just look at me.”

Dove doesn’t think he will, but she’s proven wrong. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t lower the gun, but he looks at Harvey.

“Good. Good, kid. Now just calm down, okay? No one’s gonna hurt ya, this isn’t…” He takes another step. “This isn’t like that.”

“No, no…”

“Hey. You’re not gonna break my heart an’ tell me I laid a finger on ya, are ya?” Harvey manages, God knows how, to give Jason a real smile. “And you know Dove’s not gonna hurt ya, right? You’re out, kid. You’re okay. So Bats is a bit of a dope--” Batman radiates mild offense. “--but he’s been lookin’ all over the place for you. So come on. Put the gun down.”

People underestimate Harvey sometimes. He’s a disaster, smokes too much and doesn’t clean and yeah, his landlord did try to murder him that one time and Dove could totally see where he was coming from, but...he’s a good guy. Mostly. He’s the kinda cop that she would’ve talked to as a little girl, y’know? He does his best for this hellhole of a city.

Jason’s arms shake and the guns do start lowering. Dove’s just thinking maybe he’ll be okay when he looks back at Batman and whispers, “I can’t.”

“Can’t what, Robin?” Batman’s voice is very, very soft. “Talk to me, son.”

Jason hiccups and spits out, “I killed people! Beat ���em to death because they looked like you, they looked like you, they were gonna kill me--”

Jesus. Jesus Christ--

Jason’s still blubbering, voice thick and angry and horrified.

“--you’re not gonna want me anymore and I can’t go back to him I can’t I can’t--”

“You’re not going back to him,” Batman insists. “You’re never going back to him, we’re going--”

“No.” Jason swallows and when he speaks again, his voice is steady enough. “No. S’okay, B. There’s no fixin’ me, I know. S’okay.”

He raises the gun again, presses it to his head.

“M’sorry.”

Dove doesn’t see Batman move. One minute he’s over there, and the next minute, Jason’s disappeared under a shadow and the gun’s out of his hand. Jim grabs it and backs away.

Batman stands up, keeping Jason’s arms behind his back. Jason’s slumped forward, breathing hard.

“Listen to me,” he says, the softness of his tone a stark contrast to the firm restraint, “there is nothing you could do that would make me leave you with that monster. I promise.”

“But I--”

“Agent A’s missed you,” he continues. “And Nightwing, and. And Batgirl. I’m sorry, Robin, for failing you. But I never left you, and I certainly never replaced you. We can fix this, at home.” He sighs. “Come home, son.”

Jason bursts into tears, legs buckling under him, and Batman turns him around to hug him.

“Dad--”

“I’ve got you,” Batman murmurs. “I’ve got you. We’re going home right now.”

Dove wonders how-they all saw the destroyed car, Cobblepot had laughed about it-when there’s a noise that can only be described as Hell dropping out of the sky and a…

Oh. Right. Batman not only has a car, he also has a goddamn plane. Because that’s just something that he needs.

The plane lands on the lawn. Batman picks Jason up-looks a little awkward, with the growth spurt the kid’s managed-and turns around.

Nobody tries to stop him. Nobody even says anything until the plane’s in the air, and then Harvey sighs, flicks his toothpick away, and turns to Dove.

“Fuck it,” he says roughly. “You got a cigarette?”

She should say no. He’s been tryin’ to quit, doin’ real good, but…

She needs a smoke too, after that.

“Here.”

THE END

*Canon! (It’s mutual. It’s precious.