#he carries that egg everywhere and talks to it all the time about everything and nothing at all and it’s such a precious sight

[maggins]

post WaD headcanon time: Hunter probably didn’t carve Waffles as she was, per se. like, he still had so much baggage about “getting replaced” from his GG days that he probs felt if he carved another bird it’d be kinda like replacing Flapjack and how terrible would he feel abt it

i’m thinking he’s some time into his apprenticeship under Dell and has already gotten a hang at carving palismen for other folks and he is really good at it and FEELS good about it, but the thought of making one for himself kinda still makes his stomach turn. but bit by bit, he feels he’s able to move on and thinks about getting one for himself, but there’s still so much doubt and guilt that he’s not sure what to carve

it’s at this point that Luz suggests he carve an egg like she did with Stringbean, and that way he can sort of let the palisman decide for themselves what they want to be, and also give Hunter some time to reflect about it and to grieve and talk to them about his doubts and fears, but also his hopes and wishes

i think it would take much longer for his palisman egg to hatch than Luz’s did, but it was okay, they were giving each other time to get to know each other, even without actually meeting in person

i’m imagining his surprise when another bird breaks out of that egg, but it’s alright, because she decided what she’d be and look like, and she chose to be with him at the right moment and accept everything about all he’s ever told her while she was still in that egg, and he’s so happy and grateful for this beautiful little blue bird 🥹

[theloveinc]

windbreaker x reader - sakura, suo, sugishita, kiryu, ume + togame AS DADS 🤍🤌🏻

(warning - mentions of bio kids/birth/nursing + etc!)

HARUKA SAKURA - goes from the panicked dad to the dad who can handle five children at once...

His first year of parenthood is mainly... chaos. It's him struggling to change a diaper with less than six baby wipes. It's him going on patrol with spit up on his shirt. It's falling asleep as soon as his head his the pillow, barely any spare moments left in the day to spend with you without baby by your sides.

His third year of parenthood, however? His third year has him with two kids on his hip and one hanging off his back, all while he's in the kitchen warming up bottles and scrambling eggs for lunch with enough time once everyone's down for a nap for him to sneak you into your bedroom to spend a surprise hour under the sheets.

It doesn't matter if the kids are his or not, he runs his household like a preschool military... even if, at the end of the day, he can't tell you how he managed to do it. Sakura always knows where every kid is stationed in the house, what they're all doing and want to do next, and who needs a meal or a nap or anything in between. It's like he's psychic of sorts, because one kid could just be popping out of their bedroom and he'd already have their milk and afternoon snacks at the ready.

He's also a miracle at handling fights and spats, able to sit down every single child involved and help them talk it out before making them apologize. It's almost as though he was made to be a dad... if his main purpose on earth wasn't already... fighting people?

(It makes sense, though; he's grown to be such a peace keeper.

That being said, just because he can handle five kids at once doesn't mean they can handle him. He can really be Mr. Tough Love sometimes, especially to kids that aren't his own and don't yet know he means everything with love.)

(Also, he will jog around the neighborhood with a stroller lmao, or power walk with the youngest on his back. The neighborhood ladies LOVE him. Keep him locked up for his own safety. Eventual dilf.)

-

HAYATO SUO - the dad to an extremely fussy baby...

Suo being the type of man that he is (and has always been)... you never would've guessed that one of the few things able to sway such an infallible man could be his very own baby.

That first year after your... very expressive... daughter is born is mostly spent with Suo in shambles. Neither of you are sure if it's just the lack of sleep and all the other emotions that come with being a first time dad that are making him so flustered when he can't figure out why she's crying or what she wants... or if your daughter really is just that powerful to have the almost-always-unfazed Suo so pissed at a piece of broccoli for simply existing under his daughter's nose.

Every patrol around town or date night or time spent without your daughter on his lap is time he spends PONDERING how he can master the whole... "being a good dad" thing. One of the few things he's not able to immediately master and pull off with grace.

He eentually gets the hang of it though, once his kids grow into their security and start acting just like him.

(For every kid you have, there's at least a year spent like this. No matter how much he's learned or how easy it becomes for him to read his children, it's like the process resets as soon another bugger shows up.

Of course, all his kids are born fussy because HE was a fussy baby. But don't tell him that.)

-

KYOTARO SUGISHITA - the "go get my wallet" dad...

Like all the time he spent in Ume's garden during his youth, when Sugishita becomes a dad, the best way he knows how to spoil his girls is by investing every single spare moment of his time at their side... and heeding every. single. one of their requests.

As soon as they're old enough to walk (and no longer need him carrying them around everywhere, which he is devastated about, btw)... he's not only trailing behind them everywhere, but also insisting they get whatever their little hearts could desire.

...which sometimes means he's secretly pulling out his wallet and paying off the employee at the zoo to let them stay another hour after their tickets expire... and sometimes means he's coming home from the grocery store with three extra bags of snacks and four, brand new toys.

(This indulgence of his does not go away even as they age. If his daughters want a caviar bento every day for lunch, they're getting that caviar bento no matter what. No matter the cost. No matter the labor. And yes, before you ask, he makes their lunches too.)

Discipline also doesn't really exist for this guy, it's lowkey embarrassing because YOU WOULD THINK it would, wouldn't you?

-

MITSUKI KIRYU - the dad whose kid ends up wearing mad drip to day care...

You know those memes that sometimes come around that are like... "hispter" or "swaggy" baby? Kiryu ends up with one of those, sort of... unintentionally, even if the outfits don't stop when you point out how much needless concern he has for his son's fashion.

(It's not even that he's trying to make your child is fashionable... it's just how naturally good he is at buying clothes; he always comes home from the department store with a whole ensemble rather than just the two or three pairs of shirts and pants you asked for.

It's a little... self-conscious-making, honestly... to walk into a preschool with the nicest dressed toddler in tow, wearing clothes even he doesn't care about, and that are obviously going to get dirty the second he starts playing in the dirt (which he does, practically the second you let go of his hand. He's a wanderer, lol.)

Not that Kiryu cares a thing about your baby making a mess in his specially chosen, mini flannel (not that I need to say so, but he does his share of laundry)... but when all the other kids are in regular leggings and Minecraft t-shirts... it's definitely sort of funny that yours wears baby converse and button-ups.

-

HAJIME UMEMIYA - picture man dad…

Not only does Ume have pictures of all his kids happiest moments and biggest milestones, he has pictures of every second in between:

Pictures from between your legs of your baby literally being born, videos of the next one crowning. Pictures of your kid's first poop, or of their diaper rash from when he panicked and tried to emergency contact your doctor. Pictures from the first night they slept in their big kid beds, to pictures of their first (and worst) pimples.

He's lowkey (highkey) a vlog dad without the youtube channel; similarly, he also tries to record everything. Birthdays, sibling fashion shows, nighttime routines, wake-ups on holidays, fights, YOU NAME IT, he's pulling out his phone.

You honestly wouldn't think he does anything with the pictures but sometimes you find him asleep in bed just going through everything... he loves his kiddos that much <3

(He never forgets to take pictures of you both, either. Mostly you, but also some of the moments you're together, like your outfits or when you're on a date. He wants to be able to hold on to his memories forever, and give his kids something to remember you both by when they grow up.)

(Almost everyone has him muted on social media too except for Sugi lmaooo because he posts way. too. many. pictures and writes 500 word captions even over something as small as a lost tooth...)

(And lmao, he has at least one kid who is always ready to strike a pose, and in fact, does strike a pose whenever there's a camera out.)

-

JO TOGAME - the most hands-on father who will NOT put his child down...

For Togame... fatherhood essentially turns him into a willing jungle gym... likely due to the fact that when your baby was first born, he happily took on the night feeds and changings and often fell asleep in the armchair right next their crib just waiting for the next time he could hold them...

But you know those dads you sometimes see out in public, who play with their kids the way they'd play with a monkey? No sooner than he's finally able to is he holding your child up on his shoulders or swinging them around by the ankles like a sack of potatoes every time they're together; causing you to have a heart attack whenever you witness it, and everyone in the general vicinity with a shitty partner to ask how you "got him to be so involved with raising with your kids."

(Of the two of you, he's actually the one who gets antsy when people who aren't close to either of you ask to see or touch the baby. He's the one who hovers cautiously when his cousins pester you about letting them have a turn holding the baby, or when another relative makes a joke about you hiding them from family when you just went off to nurse in private. He is Pissed and is not afraid to express that lmao.)

It's really a blessing and a curse... because on one hand it's sooo sweet to watch them together... but then on another, your child is just, if not more, clingy than him... and cries louder than any other kid in the room when Togame finally lets go of the hug on their first day of preschool.)

-

Thank you for reading!

[erinkeifer]

𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 [𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋]

[Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader]

Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3

Summary: These are your first shared holidays with Anakin since you both moved in together in your cozy apartment in Coruscant. No one knows about the two of you, and you want this day to be special for both of you… Although… Wait. No one knows? Perhaps you have a surprise for Anakin today?

Warnings: Warnings? What warnings? Just fluff, fluff, warmth, and more fluff! Word Count: 5,2k

"Open! Come in!" you called out upon hearing chaotic knocking on the door, but there was no response. "I said it's open! I have my hands full of eggs and flour, and I can't move from here!" you shouted again, but instead of a reply, you only heard even more chaotic sounds coming from behind the door. "Darn!" you muttered under your breath as you decided to shake off your hands over the sink and headed towards the door in your stained apron. You opened it with your elbow, not wanting to mess anything around you, and almost immediately jumped back against the wall seeing what was pushing through the already open door. "Anakin! Good heavens! Where did you get this? From Endor?!" you asked in shock, seeing Anakin entering the house carrying a massive, barely fitting through the doorway, Christmas tree. "Not exactly… Hold the door… Uh, please?" Anakin said with a strained voice, trying to squeeze entirely inside. "I don't have a choice… Hey, watch out for R2!" you yelled, seeing the oblivious droid rolling toward Anakin, almost impaling itself on the protruding trunk of the Christmas tree.

"R2, back off!" commanded Anakin, and you chuckled hearing the surprised beeping of the droid as you closed the door behind both of you. Anakin set the Christmas tree against the wall, wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, looking proudly at his 'prize' as if he had found and dug it up himself.

"Jesus, what took you so long? I almost baked everything." you crossed your arms, looking at your beloved with a smile breaking through your artificially judging tone.

"I was negotiating!" Anakin shrugged with a smile, to which you nodded. "I hope those weren't aggressive negotiations…" you playfully tapped Anakin on the shoulder, leaving a bit of flour on his dark robes.

"Not this time… But admit it, it's great, isn't it? Definitely the best one they had." he added with a proud smile on his face.

"Of course, but Ani… It was supposed to be a small, modest tree! When we stand it upright, it won't fit under the ceiling." Anakin looked at you for a moment, and although your words said otherwise, he saw that you really liked the tree.

"Everything will fit everywhere if you treat it right." Anakin shrugged, and you playfully tapped his shoulder a few times before a laughter attack caught both of you.

"Stop! You'll get me all dirty!" he laughed when you tried to tickle him, but you quickly backed off when you remembered about the oven still on behind you. "You're the one who'll get dirty in a moment." you smiled, to which he raised an eyebrow as if he didn't know what you were talking about. "In an apron or without an apron?" you walked a few steps to the hanger to take off the black apron and held it out towards Anakin. "Oh no." "Oh yes." "But you know I'm completely useless at…" "You can do it, brave boy, you can do anything! And now, come here." Anakin sighed and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender as he slowly joined you in the kitchen. "So... Do you want to dirty your robes, or perhaps the apron?" you handed it to him, leaving a quick kiss on his cheek as if you wanted to praise him for his courage.

Anakin squinted at you, and you smirked playfully, simultaneously helping him tie the apron behind his back. "So, was it that terrible?" you asked, tucking strands of his curly hair behind his ears as he pretended to put on an offended expression. "Yes, yes... You better tell me what we're doing." he asked, diverting from the topic as he looked around at the scattered items on the kitchen counter.

"Well, the dough is almost ready, just need…" you began to speak, then stood on your toes, trying to reach the open cabinet with ingredients. "Let me… What should I grab?" Anakin caught you around the waist to prevent you from straining yourself and reached into the cabinet, which was much more accessible for him given his height. "Sugar and the jar of honey, please… I'll mix what I have here." he nodded at your words and took out two jars from the cabinet. "This one is salt… but leave it here, it might come in handy later." "Oh." Anakin muttered and reached into the cabinet again. "Yes, perfect now, thank you." you took the jar from him and left a kiss on his cheek. Quickly, you refocused on your recipe and didn't even catch the moment when Anakin stood behind you, his hands gently encircling your waist as he observed over your shoulder what you were doing. "What's this?" "This? It's the spice mix, already cooled. Now, I have to pour it into the rest of the ingredients in the bowl—it needs to be warm- not too hot." "Too hot... Like you?" you chuckled lightly as you began carefully pouring the contents from the warm saucepan into the plastic bowl.

You hadn't finished emptying the saucepan when you paused for a moment, feeling Anakin gently kissing your neck, slightly disrupting your balance in what you were doing. "Ani, we'll mess everything up in a moment, really." you smiled, sensing your beloved's need for tenderness, evidently unaffected by your words.

"I don't care." he mumbled against your neck, and you struggled to scrape off the last bits of the mixture from the saucepan before putting it back.

"Darling… Please… Now it's your turn." you smiled, stroking Anakin's head with your 'cleaner' hand.

"Hm?" he grunted, intrigued by whatever you had in mind. "Here's a spoon for you, and mix it very nicely. But make sure there are no lumps. It's as simple as that." Anakin obediently took the spoon from you and began scrutinizing the mixture, as if it required a special strategy. Meanwhile, you went back to your task—turned off the oven with the cupcakes ready, sneakily glancing in Ani's direction as he concentrated on mixing and combining all the ingredients in the bowl, just as you had instructed.

You had to admit there was something about this sight. Something that made your heart melt. Your beloved, hardworking General simply preparing holiday treats with you, periodically glancing in your direction to avoid getting caught testing the raw dough on his finger.

"Ani, just not too much. It's raw dough; your stomach will ache." you said, turned away from him, pretending not to see him in the reflection of the fridge's glass doors.

"Hm? What?" he replied, swallowing the mixture like a professional innocent, and you just smirked in response. God, how I love him. you thought when you turned towards him, and he continued to mix with corners of his mouth smeared with dough, like sweet 'evidence of the crime.'

"Shortly, you'll be able to try something ready…" you began to say, pulling on kitchen gloves and taking out the hot cupcake tray you had prepared earlier, then placing it on the kitchen island. "But first, I'll wash my hands and see what you've been up to." you finished, to which Anakin obediently nodded and continued to mix the dough as you headed to the bathroom.

You double-washed your hands and were just reaching for the towel when you heard a strange exclamation coming from the kitchen. Quickly drying your hands, you rushed out of the bathroom without turning off the light to check if everything was okay. You instantly sighed seeing Anakin holding his mouth under the tap, cold water running.

"Uh! I said, not now! I just took them out of the oven!"

"Ugh… You didn't say!" he mumbled as you tore off a piece of paper towel to dampen it with cold water.

"I did say, but you weren't listening! Give me…" you turned off the flowing water and stood Anakin upright, applying a cold compress to his reddened lips. "Sss…" he hissed, squinting his eyes, and you nodded, seeing your clever beloved bearing the consequences of his actions.

"Wait, wait…" he mumbled through the piece of towel you held to his mouth, then you removed it, letting him speak. "I know something that will heal it better." he continued, and you squinted, waiting for his response. "I'm curious…" you barely managed to finish when Anakin grabbed you around the waist and swiftly sealed his lips to yours, as if he had instantly regained his full strength.

"Mmh! You did that on purpose!" you protested through laughter, and Anakin shook his head in denial.

"No… I just sacrificed myself! Come here…" he caught you almost in mid-air, and not controlling his wild, laughter-interrupted kisses, you both moved to your small living room connected to the kitchen.

"You're crazy!" you laughed, pulling away for a moment from his lips to look into his eyes. "Crazy, but yours." he continued for you, cupping your radiant face in his hands. "It's true, Ani. It's true." you whispered, scanning the details of his face with your eyes and smiling at the sight of the traces of dough on his face. "Ah… Right…" Anakin cleared his throat before continuing, wiping off the cake spots on his face with a piece of the apron. "So, what are we doing with this dough?" .................................................................................................................

The Christmas preparations unfolded for both of you in an atmosphere you had never experienced before—especially for Anakin, who usually, burdened with duties at the temple, couldn't find relief during this time. However, this year, to his surprise, something changed. The comlink had remained silent for a few days, and he even tried shaking it at times, fearing it might have malfunctioned, but to no avail. Today was the day of your festive dinner. Outside, darkness slowly descended, so Skywalker plugged in the fairy lights that adorned the window, and all that remained was to finish decorating the Christmas tree.

"And what? Didn't I tell you it would fit?" he asked proudly, carrying a box filled with baubles and garlands into the living room while you took the roast out of the oven.

"It fit because I trimmed the top." you replied, and both of you inhaled the appetizing, savory aroma of the dish that filled the room.

"Damn, I've gotten hungry." said Anakin, patting his stomach at the sight of a rich plate with the main dish.

"Not yet, sweetheart, the roast needs to cool, and we have to finish the tree." you replied, and Anakin immediately plunged his hand into the box full of decorations.

"So?" he added, approaching you slowly, and when he had you within reach, he draped tinsel around your neck.

"May we?" he added after a moment, pulling you close with the tinsel until your noses almost touched. "You lead, General." you smiled, and both of you knelt by the Christmas tree, contemplating the color scheme you would choose for decoration.

"Any strategy?" you asked, fiddling with a random bauble in your hands that you took from the box.

"Hm?"

"Are we going for specific colors, or are we mixing?" you clarified, and then both of you turned around, hearing the approach of your friendly droid.

"You know what? How about silver and blue?" Anakin added after a moment, not taking his eyes off his loyal friend. You smiled broadly, quickly catching the charming hint from your beloved.

"I think that's a perfect idea." you replied, and before he looked, you left a surprise quick kiss on his lips.

Radiant from your gesture, Anakin didn't have time to reciprocate as you were already buried in the box of decorations, searching for silver and blue baubles one after another. The ones that matched the best, you set aside for Anakin to hang on the branches, and even though it took him a bit, you lovingly watched how carefully and attentively he chose places to hang the baubles.

At your crossed legs, beneath the tree, lay two gifts—one dark blue, prepared by you for Anakin, and one purple, prepared by him for you, with a slightly messy but endearing and heartfelt paper bow and a signature with his boyish handwriting that you would recognize even from the end of the world. Both of you enjoy surprises, so you didn't peek into each other's boxes or inquire about the ideas that came to your minds. Well… maybe once, you wanted to play a little prank on R2, but the droid instantly shut down when you asked if he knew what Anakin had prepared for you in the box. "Do you think it's okay?" Anakin asked, standing up to take a few steps back and survey the almost finished tree. "I think it's perfect." you said with a smile, and even R2 beeped in approval. "See? I guess there's no doubt now." Both of you laughed at the sight of the satisfied droid. "Did you happen to forget something?" you got up from the ground and sweetly smiled at Anakin. "I think so." he said, approaching you and gently cupping your face in his hands, leaving a long, tender kiss on your lips. "Not exactly what I had in mind, but…" "Ah, the tinsel!" Anakin interrupted, realizing you were referring to the part of the decorations wrapped around your neck. You laughed at the momentary confusion of your beloved, and Anakin swiftly unwound the tinsel from your neck, starting to wrap it around the tree from the top while you held onto the lower part.

It was even more endearing that despite the last-minute adjustments, Anakin didn't do anything haphazardly—he executed each movement with feeling and one might say 'professionally,' even though he always claimed to be all thumbs when it came to such things.

"It seems finished. Would you add anything else?" he asked cautiously, but in your eyes, everything was already complete. "Now just the cherry on top… R2?" you called to the droid, and he instantly knew what to do. R2-D2 rolled up to the extension cord connected to the Christmas lights and flipped the switch, making the tree light up. Simultaneous smiles appeared on your and Anakin's faces as you joined hands, proudly looking at your decoration reflecting beautifully in the expansive windows of your apartment.

"Is it time?" Anakin asked timidly, looking at you leaning against the kitchen island. "It's time." you confirmed his words with a smile, eliciting a wide grin on his face as well. You didn't have time to step into the kitchen when suddenly both of you heard the sound of the doorbell coming from the front entrance. "Did you order something?" Anakin asked, clearly surprised, ready to sit down at the table, but then he stood back up. "Hm… Not exactly. Wait, I'll open it." You walked into your small hallway leading to the front door while Anakin observed you, surprised by your stoic calmness.

Anakin stood in silence for a moment, watching his droid. However, soon, hearing a familiar voice he didn't expect at all that evening, shivers ran down his spine. "Good evening, Anakin." echoed the voice of Obi-Wan from behind him, standing at the entrance with you. Skywalker's cheeks reddened in stress, as if he thought he was in some trouble, but his master quickly picked up on his feelings.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to lecture anyone. I know everything. I know about you two." Obi-Wan initially spoke with a serious expression, but soon a warm smile appeared on his face. "Anakin, I've told Master Kenobi everything, and I invited him here tonight to spend the evening with us." you added right after Obi-Wan. Anakin, who had been looking at the floor until now, exchanged glances with both of you, pondering for a moment. After a while, a smile appeared on his face, soon multiplying among the three of you.

"Master." Anakin finally spoke and walked towards Obi-Wan to warmly shake his hand. "Good to see you here." he added after a moment, and you watched them with a smile, setting plates on the table.

"Good to see you too. Actually, both of you." Obi-Wan responded, patting his apprentice on the shoulder as Anakin pointed towards an empty seat at the set table and invited him to join. "Now at least I know where you disappear for those 'unofficial missions.' I was starting to worry that you had joined the Separatists." Obi-Wan added, settling in a free seat across from you and Anakin. However, before he did, he discreetly slid two new boxes under your Christmas tree. You all laughed at Kenobi's suggestion.

"Master, mulled wine? Or are you driving?" you asked from the kitchen, holding a bottle of wine for heating.

"On purpose for this occasion, I took a taxi. I'll take some, please." Kenobi chuckled, amusing his apprentice. "Honestly, Master…" Anakin began, taking a moment to sigh and organize his thoughts. "I was expecting more…"

"That I'd come in here and give you both a good scolding?" Kenobi chuckled under his breath, realizing his apprentice's concerns. He had long had a perspective on the whole situation between him and you. "Something like that?" Skywalker finished, and Kenobi sighed in response, gathering his thoughts.

"You know, Anakin, our choices may differ, our perspectives too… But despite it all, I've processed everything and come to the conclusion… Actually, I know that you deserve to shape your life in your own way, to make your own choices…" Kenobi paused to take a deep breath. "Perhaps if some of my choices in the past were different, my life would look entirely different too, but…"

"That's why I decided it would be best if we spend this day here together." you interrupted Kenobi, handing out mugs of hot wine. "Master, regardless of our choices - you deserve a bit of normalcy, simple everyday life…" Initially, Kenobi had a sad expression on his face, briefly returning to thoughts of the past, but he began to smile upon hearing your words. You sensed the right moment, knowing that Kenobi's words about his past choices and how his life might have been different had a double meaning. You knew it wasn't the time for him to dwell on "what-ifs," so you needed to show him who he could count on here and now.

"Master, you're… for me, for both of us, the closest family." Anakin began, and you finally joined the two men.

"Ani has repeatedly said that you're like an older brother to him… It probably wouldn't be easy for us if you hadn't accepted that…" you continued for him, but Kenobi was quicker to interrupt.

"If I hadn't accepted you, I wouldn't know how to live with it. I won't deny that you're like family to me as well." Kenobi replied and paused for a moment, having something else on the tip of his tongue. "By the way… I know it's still early, but I'd like to give you something in advance. You've arranged time off for Anakin, so there's no risk for him, but they could call me at any moment." He finished, and Anakin squinted his eyes. "Wait, what? How did you arrange time off for me?" Skywalker asked, realizing that the recent silence on the line in the past few days was your doing. "Shhh!" you hushed your beloved and deferred the conversation back to Kenobi, towards your Christmas tree.

"I've been thinking for a long time about what to prepare for you both. I've never had the opportunity to give anyone a gift for this occasion… or rather, I've never had the chance to celebrate with anyone..." Obi-Wan began, taking out from under the Christmas tree two boxes he had brought with him—plain, wrapped in the simplest way, differing only in size.

"But I think I hit the mark at least a little." he continued, presenting the gifts in your direction. They were modestly labeled—yours had the first letter of your name, and Anakin's had a large 'A' on it. You smiled at each other, and Skywalker was the first to start unwrapping his gift, so you waited with yours to be able to see his reaction.

Initially, both of you were unsure about what emerged from the wrapping that Anakin had disarmed, but it was only the next layer of unwrapped paper that revealed Obi-Wan's first gift.

"Whoah, where did you get this?" Skywalker asked with a broad smile, holding an elegant, sturdy case for his lightsaber with specially engraved initials A.S.

"I ordered it on special request. I won't deny that I consulted a bit on choosing this gift…" Kenobi threw you a meaningful look, to which you smiled. "…But it also occurred to me after the last mission when your hilt fell off, and all the way to Coruscant, you couldn't stop polishing it." Anakin didn't wait any longer and took a few steps back to pick up his lightsaber from the coffee table and test how it fits with the new accessory.

"It fits perfectly." Skywalker maneuvered his weapon a bit and, in the meantime, checked if the case fits on his belt. "It's very well secured in the switch area—you won't have to worry about the lightsaber accidentally turning on." added Kenobi as Anakin safely placed his new gadget on the coffee table.

"Thank you, Master… But honestly, now I feel really embarrassed because I don't have any gift for you." Anakin responded with slight confusion, but for Kenobi, it absolutely didn't matter.

"For me, the greatest gift is that I can be here today, in such a pleasant, homely company." both of you smiled at Obi-Wan's words, but you didn't have to worry about Kenobi leaving your apartment empty-handed. You invited him yourself, so you made sure he returned with his gift—a bag full of homemade sweets and treats, and a bottle of elegant, winter mulled wine that he enjoys.

"It seems it's your turn now, Ma'am." Obi-Wan smiled, and soon after his words, both men focused their attention on the small package you held in your hands. You returned the smile to the older Jedi and began carefully unwrapping the paper, which, this time, had only one layer. Underneath was an elegant, blue box, and when you took off the lid, your eyes were greeted by a beautiful blue jewelry set—a necklace with stunning, shimmering stones and matching earrings.

"Master… This is beautiful… You really didn't have to…"

"In fact, this set has been with me for a long time… I once prepared it for Satine, but I never had the chance to give it to her, so…" Hearing these words, your heart almost stopped, and you weren't the only one in shock—Anakin was equally stunned.

"Master, I… I can't accept this… I don't feel that…"

"I want you to accept it. It was meant for someone special and will go to someone special. You are the closest woman to me since I learned about your relationship, and since I became aware of it, I know you're the right person to wear this." As Obi-Wan spoke, your eyes glistened. You nervously looked toward the moved Anakin and then back to Kenobi, embracing him warmly.

"I'll take care of it, I promise." you added, breaking the hug and very gently placing the box in a safe corner. "But you have to promise me something else." Kenobi said after a while, and of course, you immediately turned towards him.

"That you'll take care of him." he added, patting his apprentice on the shoulder, triggering wide smiles from both of you.

"May the Force curse me if it's otherwise." you laughed, approaching your beloved, who wrapped his arm around you, gaining comfort to do so in the presence of his Master. "Because, Anakin, you should know right away that if you don't take care of her, I'll kill you." Kenobi added with mock seriousness. Anakin initially widened his eyes in surprise, but he knew he didn't have to worry about such a scenario because he takes care of you incredibly well. "Damn, guys, I won't keep you any longer. You must be starving." You interrupted as soon as the opportunity arose, and the two smiling Jedi, without any protest, immediately took their seats at the table to enjoy the long-awaited dinner. "What do we have here?" Obi-Wan asked, rubbing his hands together at the sight of appetizing dishes on the elegant table setting. "This is roast with vegetables, here's my experimental – but supposedly very good – salad, and over there are raspberry cupcakes…" you listed one by one as Kenobi and Anakin served themselves with their chosen dishes. A portion of roast quickly landed on Obi-Wan's plate, and on the dessert plate next to it were gingerbreads, which he wanted to try first. "…And Anakin made the gingerbreads himself… well, almost by himself!" you added, and at your words, Kenobi paused for a moment before taking the first bite. "Oh? Really?" the older Jedi widened his eyes, and you laughed, seeing him act as if they were dealing with explosive concoctions. "But don't worry, they are really delicious. I tested them myself, and I have to admit that your apprentice has a knack for cooking." Anakin sat a bit embarrassed but blushing, chewing on your delicious dishes and appreciating your compliments. "Okay, I have to admit, they're seriously good." Kenobi replied with a full mouth, genuinely impressed by the taste of the sweet gingerbreads. "See, you underestimated me." Anakin smiled over his plate, adding another serving of your roast, which absolutely stole the show that evening. "Oh, I just know your capabilities too well, Anakin." Kenobi concluded, and you just chuckled, enjoying one of the cupcakes that Anakin had the chance to nibble on a bit earlier.

Dinner passed in a delightful mood – there were jokes, playful banter that had everyone laughing, but most importantly, there was a wonderful atmosphere that truly made you all feel like family. It was already quite late at night when Kenobi left the two of you alone. Before he departed, you made sure he took your delicious gifts with him. Since he allowed himself to raise a few more toasts for you, you escorted him to the taxi drop-off point.

You both felt a bit frozen on the way back to the apartment, especially Anakin, who graciously offered you his coat along the way. As soon as you got in, you cranked up the heating because, even though you both were eager to dive into bed, you knew there was one more important thing left to do.

"What do you say, love, who goes first?" you asked Anakin, embracing him tenderly as you stood in front of your Christmas tree. "It might sound strange, but… Maybe I'll go first, huh?" Anakin's choice surprised you, as such questions usually ended with both of you insisting the lady goes first, but this time something was clearly different. "Of course, go ahead." you smiled and left a kiss on his cheek before he bent down to pick up the box labeled with the letter 'A'. It was substantial, much larger than yours and slightly more complex in its packaging. You sat down beside him to help in case he needed assistance with unwrapping.

For Anakin, who had already practiced unwrapping presents a bit today, it didn't take long at all. From the broad smile on his face right from the start, you could tell he was already thrilled. "No way." he whispered, revealing his new, sophisticated toolbox containing absolutely everything he might need for repairing droids or providing 'first aid' in case of speeder breakdowns. "You're amazing, have I told you that already?" Anakin turned to you with a wide grin and connected his lips with yours in a long kiss. "So, I guess I nailed the present, huh?" you asked, already knowing the answer. "You have no idea how much." he added, leaving another kiss on your lips and caressing your cheek gently. "Well then… it seems it's your turn now." he whispered after a while, and your cheeks blushed as you reached for a small box under the tree. You stood up, trying to first deal with the paper bow. Anakin stood behind you, peering over your shoulder, not wanting to interrupt your unwrapping joy. You were getting to the third layer of paper, revealing a simple box underneath, similar to a typical tea box. However, when you opened the lid, there was nothing inside. You also couldn't feel Anakin's breath on your shoulder, so he must have distanced himself a bit when you were focused on unboxing. "Ani, I think I messed something up, or…" you began, turning around, and suddenly you had to lower your gaze because your beloved was kneeling in front of you, holding another, this time elegant and exquisite box. "I didn't want you to find it in a pile of papers, so I left the real gift here." he said. You didn't know what to say next, seeing Anakin's completely serious face and his hand extended towards you. "I chose your favorite stone and had it framed as beautifully as possible, so that accepting this ring would be a gift not only for me but also for you… Because accepting it would mean that I will have the most wonderful gift I could ever dream of…" he spoke, and you felt your eyes welling up. "Anakin… Does this mean…" "It means that tonight, I want to ask you to marry me. You, the most special woman in my life, with whom I want to celebrate Christmas forever, in war and in peace, in sickness and in health…" he continued, and you felt your heart pounding. However, you already knew the answer. You didn't want to wait any longer. You didn't want to keep him in suspense. "I want to spend every Christmas with you, I want to start every new year with you… Anakin… I have no doubt… I never did." You cupped his face with your hands as he slowly rose from his kneeling position, gazing deeply into your eyes. "Should I understand this as a 'yes'?" he asked, taking out the breathtakingly beautiful ring from the elegant box. "Yes, Anakin. There is only one answer for me." You replied, and then he gently took your hand to put the ring on it, perfectly sized for your finger. Your lips met again in a passionate kiss – a kiss unlike any other because it was part of a new, wonderful reality for both of you. You could have prolonged it for a long time, but eventually, you separated your lips and held each other tightly, looking into each other's eyes. "I will take care of you. I will take care of you as much as I can…" he whispered slowly, almost touching noses, observing the Christmas tree's illumination reflecting in your eyes. "And I will ensure that every Christmas from now on is like these… But in all this, one thing will remain certain…" he continued, and you listened attentively. "With each passing Christmas, I will love you even more."

[a-twistedheartslonging]

So! Everything I’ve learned about spooders is from my aunt Angie, and Exotic Lair on YouTube and now I’m talking about Idia!

Spiders rub their thorax with their legs to kick their little hairs at predators or enemies, they actually get irritated really quickly (no I personally haven’t had kicked hairs in my arms, but my Auntie has and we had to drive her to the hospital cause the topical ointments were causing an allergic reaction) so all I’m picturing is if you scare Idia, and his back to you he kicks his hairs at you. Make sure to knock before entering his room! Nobody makes this mistake twice…

Some tarantelas keep small frogs in a symbiotic relationship where the frog protects the spiders eggs, and the spider protects the frog, so honestly…Ortho is a frog boy. Maybe not a full frog boy but like he wears froggy outfits. He has a bucket hat with the frog eyes, and everything!

Spiders use their webs as an extended sense of touch, so as much as I want to say Idia uses his webbing for wiring and electronics, I’m worried he would electrocute himself…he probably does periodically and you and Ortho yell at him to STOP! This is the third time!

Spiders HATE blowing air and wind, so he uses it as an excuse to avoid the outdoors. « It’s so windy out though! » it actually can cause overstimulation for them, and they can get sick from too much wind! So windy days I bet he gets a bit of a fever every time. His little hairs also shake to try and calm down. He looks like he’s vibrating

So there are burrowing spiders (which are the ones I know about) and arborils (or the tree livers…) and since he prefers the indoors, he would be a burrower! Also cause then I can talk about him! Also cause he would prefer the dark, damp, and he would totally burrow into his blanket fort, and his super fluffy hoodie!

After he molts he’s SUPER pretty, as all spiders are! They’re so vibrant and bright blue. I bet Idia would be a cobalt blue tarantula, and if Ortho is a spider, I bet he would be a rose hair. Rose hairs are best for beginners, as they’re pretty docile, and just live and let live, while cobalts choose violence more often. Rose hairs also choose violence, but more as a last resort. Both kick hairs, but cobalts also bite…

So spiders teeth are actually like straws (if I’m remembering correctly) so just picture him crunching a soda can and he sucks it all down! Just a SHLURP, and he’s hydrated! But I bet he still likes the crunch of chips. (Weird asmr too look for is tarantula feeding! Don’t watch if you have a weak stomach)

Spiders don’t have bones and use more of a hydrolic system to move, with their heart pushing blood into each leg to move forward then pull it back. So I say Idia has very few bones, or none, and his human torso is highly flexible. Without his exo he would be very bendy.

Spiders have retractable claws AND PAW PADS! They only have two of each on each food, so 16 paw pads to squish! But spider pads are different from other animals, as they have tiny hairs that help them stick to things and climb. (Once scientists found web residue in spider foot prints so they were like « they stick by excreting webbing from their feet! » and another groupe was like « bet, there is webbing everywhere! How do you know they’re not trailing it like toilet paper?» and covered a spiders butt with wax to keep the environment more clean, and there was no webbing there! I love science beef) his little feet’s are still probably sticky from webbing, so use a baby wipe or something to clean him up.

Males leave their burrows to go try and see if someone wants to mate (I’m not going into how they have to carry their little sperm web bag with them, because yes they have to take the sperm and put it into basically a little bag to put in the female!) so only when he’s actually interested does he start to leave his room for you! He helps clean up ramshackle I bet! Or uses robots to help clean it…

Different breeds have different mating styles, but the peacock spider does a little dance, shaking his butt around and he’s like « please, please, please, please plea-«  or they also tap a little pattern on the females webbing to see if she’s willing,

Spiders don’t have genders until I think their third molt, and that’s just a free fun fact!

So many cute and interesting things.

I think of Ortho being a dif creature from his brother. Maybe cuz of their parents are dif creatures with one being a spider and the others something else or current or past ortho was a spider but always wanted to be something different so Idia decided to be a cool bro and make him a body that lets him be whatever he wants.

So, imagine he has all these diff creature bods. Dog, bunny, frog, bee, spooder, and whatever else.

Part of me thinks Idia helping to clean would just him picking you up under the arms like a cat and lifting you to reach things which would be so funny to see.

It would be cute if Yuu kept baby wipes with them and helped Idia keep those spider feeties clean when he needs it.

It would be pretty freaking cool Seeing Idia do the soda can thing, i feel like he would try not to do it around you at first but forgets but then you act all impressed and tell him it's cool and he's flustered.

Poor Idia on those windy days. Makes me think of that orange cat that hates the beach cuz it was windy.

He makes that face whenever it gets windy.

Hmmm the hairs though...in this AU I think of the hairs he has being soft of fluffy baby they get stiff when scared so he can do that thing, or it becomes that way cuz magic.

....I'm just picturing him doing his scared yelling while doing it and I can't stop laughing. It's just such a silly mental image and I love it.

Thank you for all the information and Ideas, I love them.

[obscure-imaginations]

Soundwave x Blitzwing - Valveplug

Mpreg with eggs. Blitzwing lays Soundwave's eggs and has fun doing so. TFA Blitzwing, TFP Soundwave. Reflected on AO3.

REBLOGS >>> LIKES

Warnings: Pregnancy, mpreg, oviposition/laying eggs, tentacles, multiple sets of genitals, multiple orgasms.

Thankfully Soundwave had already prepared everything, because if Blitzwing was alone right now, he’d panic and lay his eggs under someone’s bed, like a cat birthing kittens in an unsuspecting owner’s closet.

The pregnancy (or ‘eggnancy’, as Knockout had snickered about) started out easy enough. Blitzwing was a good boy and took a whole 13 eggs from Soundwave’s tentacles. By the first month he had decided to forgo his abdominal plating, showing off the goods. He had been chastised at first but as his belly grew, he received more gaping stares than scoldings. Even Soundwave was prone to losing himself while working when Blitzwing sauntered by.

Halfway through, Blitzwing demanded sex almost constantly. Soundwave could hardly keep up. Eventually he’d grab Blitzwing with his tentacles and fuck his leaky valve while working- not that he was getting much done with such a spectacle next to him, but still, it’s the thought that counts.

Near the end, Blitzwing was like a whiny cat. He was bed bound at that point due to the eggs (or Knockout just liked seeing his new favorite patient be helpless), so he relied heavily on Soundwave. Icy whimpered for physical affection, Hothead snarled and demanded his craved food, while Random made noise just for the sake of getting his partner’s attention.

Soundwave wasn't bothered. He enjoyed seeing his lover like this, his protomesh swollen and spilling out. The rest of Blitzwing’s body had proportioned itself as well- he abandoned his chassis piece as soon as he started staying in bed, letting his new swollen breasts hang out. Sometimes Soundwave came home to find Blitzwing leaking bright cyan energon-rich milk everywhere, his valve and spike soon following suit with cobalt lubricating oils.

They spent many nights curled up together on their shared berth, Soundwave massaging Blitzwing’s fat in any way possible. Most times, Soundwave’s tentacles suckled Blitzwing’s breasts, his servos rubbed Blitzwing’s tummy, and his large spike plugged Blitzwing’s valve. Blitzwing was simply in pure paradise.

Now, when his water broke and his genital plating was leaking fluid, Soundwave gently carried the triplechanger to the prepared birthing nest. He grabbed each limb with a tentacle to position the eggbound mech properly. Soundwave made a reassuring chitter when Blitzwing whimpered, then slowly opened up his plating to see his heavy, leaking valve.

To their surprise, the first egg was already almost there. With a simple push, it plopped out onto the soft bedding.

Random’s face chattered excitedly. “Look! That one would be good hard-boiled.”

Soundwave made a disapproving noise and a tentacle lightly smacked the back of his helm.

Icy spoke next. “Ah… good thing they're not fertilized…” He grunted and pushed the second egg out, a spurt of fluid soaking his thighs.

Soundwave was unusually “talkative”, making all sorts of noises to encourage Blitzwing. Even the stupidest of mechs could see that he was, indeed, actually worried- Blitzwing was in bliss now but there were many things that could go wrong…

The third egg got stuck, resisting several attempts at pushing. Hothead snarled in irritation. “Stupid mech! This is all your fault!” He snapped.

Soundwave wasn't bothered, knowing this was a natural reaction- apparently it was a stereotype for pregnant humans to blame their partners for the pain. But the egg soon popped out thanks to Hothead’s passion and Blitzwing resumed whimpering in pleasure.

The next egg caused Blitzwing to moan wantonly. He couldn't take it anymore- he popped out his halfway inflated spike and began to rapidly stroke himself. He ignored Soundwave’s annoyed huff, fondling one of his own breasts while stroking.

“It feels so good!” he whimpered, his right optic fluttering shut before the faces changed again to Random. “Ooh! I want to lay eggs in you, next, Wavy! We can sound your spike and eggs will fill up those beautiful balls of yours and-”

Soundwave silenced him with a tentacle in his mouth he could suck on. Blitzwing took it happily, still rapidly jerking himself off.

Soundwave leaned forward helped ease out the next few eggs before he bolted back, sitting on his haunches. Blitzwing had unexpectedly overloaded on his faceplate. Random was giggling at him before Icy switched back in.

“Sorry, mein liebe. I believe that will be the first of many, ah, cumshots, as the humans say.” His motions continued, his spike leaking even more dark blue lubricating fluid.

Finally, after a few more of Blitzwing’s overloads and eggs, it was the final stretch. The eleventh egg was crowning when Blitzwing decided to stop pushing and massage his puffy purple valve.

Soundwave rang in annoyance, attempting to swat Blitzwing’s servo away, but Hothead growled at him.

“Hold on. I want to enjoy this!” He grit his teeth and groaned, his hips sputtering. He suddenly squirted everywhere, soaking the already-dampened fabric that lay around them. He let out a high-pitched moan, surprising for the face being displayed. Pure pleasure was resounding throughout his body, through his abdomen and causing his spark to sputter in excitement.

Soundwave took pity on the triplechanger and rubbed his servo digits on Blitzwing’s node. Another spurt of squirt came out when the next egg made it out and plopped onto the wet pile.

It felt like sparks flew through Blitzwing’s body, lighting every nerve on fire. His optics widened and he shouted as the final, thirteenth egg popped out, another overload taking him. He must have had at least half a dozen orgasms by now, Soundwave already calculating how much energon he’d need to retrieve after the affair.

Blitzwing slumped into Soundwave’s arms and tentacles. Soundwave chittered and purred for him. He massaged Blitzwing’s abdomen with a tentacle.

“Aren’t you horny?” Blitzwing mumbled. “I figured you’d be touching yourself, too.”

Soundwave paused. He looked down at himself and realized that his own genital plating had been leaking electric blue lubricant the entire time.

[speedycherryblossomwitch]

My Broppy Head Cannons!!!

1. Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter is a Broppy Song from Poppy's perspective on how in love Branch is for her and she is flattered by him.

2. Poppy really wants to get married to Branch and start a family with him but she feels every since they started dating everyone has been pressuring her. She decided that she doesn't want to give in to what they want her to do. (It's giving But Daddy I Love Him Vibes)

3. Viva is secretly jealous of her and Branch's relationship due to the fact that he knows everything about Poppy and is very happy with him. But she keeps quiet and supports them.

4. Poppy's a top and Branch is a bottom but they like to switch.

5. Ttbgo/TrollsTopia Poppy and Branch were totally a situationship.

6. Their first time happened because Poppy wore his oversized sweater and one thing lead to another for them. She wanted to wait until marriage he wanted her any day.

7. Whenever Poppy's jealous she stays by his side the entire time. Whenever Branch is jealous he takes her somewhere private just to mark her body up with hickeys.

8. Poppy purposely wears short dresses only for Branch to see and take off.

9. Remember that one time the that they had a war for a pillow? The moment another pillow choses them both they immediately go home and devour each other in the bedroom and not come out for hours.

10. They totally get engaged on Christmas.

11. Brozone tried to give Branch flirting advice once. Branch tried to flirt with her she told him that he sounded desperate.

12. Poppy is most likely to call someone out, politely insult someone, and get what she wants but Viva is more of a doormat with little confidence.

13. Poppy and Branch love baking together.

14. Poppy's love language is physical touch but she hates being touched due to how good being touched by Branch feels. Her other love language is quality time. Branch's love language is Acts of service.

15. Viva accidentally walked In on them several times without them noticing. She could never look at her sister the same way. They've done it on her bed and she assumed that she sweats in her sleep.

16. There was a small rumor that Poppy was carrying Branch's egg and Floyd believed it happily telling his brothers as they waited for Poppy and Branch to tell them the news. Poppy played along with it for a while until she publicly announced that she wasn't making Floyd feel embarrassed. Branch was confused while Poppy thought it was funny.

17. Poppy and Branch are that couple who arrive late because they're busy making out. They also do that in public.

18. They get engaged on Christmas but he doesn't have a ring. They just take one look at each other and decide that now was the time because it felt right.

19. King Peppy was annoyed at first whenever Poppy brought Branch everywhere with them but he loves how happy he makes her.

20. Poppy and Branch slow down every morning or night whenever they get the chance.

21. They move in together but not in Poppy's pod or Branch's bunker. They wanted their own place to call home and start a family.

22. Viva once tried to give Poppy the talk but she wasn't a virgin. Viva was disappointed that she didn't wait until marriage.

And that's all I have!! Broppy Week starts in two days so be prepared!!!!

[hellsfirekeepsyouwarm]

Oh hi welcome back ehe

Mayybe would u like to write some fluff for graves?

"Take Me Home"

Hello dear reader, here we go with your request, i hope you'll like it. I quite enjoyed this, my brain worked so good while writing.

Philip Graves x F!Reader

Warnings: tiny bit sad, motorcycle, fluffy af

Summary: Graves shows you how much he cares

He is the most refreshing sight for your tired eyes. His wide grin and glinting eyes is heaven sent, leaning on his all black Harley, a plus helmet patiently waiting for you to out on. His favorite leather jacket hugging his perfect torso, accompanied with all black jeans and shoes. The energy radiating from him is everything you can ask for after your long shift.

Honestly, you didn't really thought about him showing up. You were so busy all day, that you barely had time to reply to his texts with a couple of rushed words. Maybe that's why he's here with open arms, and a bright face, so he can ease you after this goddamn bad day.

You grinned as soon as you saw him, waiting for you, eagerly waiting for you to cross the parking lot so he can have the hug he yearned for all day.

His eyes look you up and down as you stride towards him. you must look like someone who crawled out of hell, haven't looked in the mirror since the morning. Baby hairs has been loose for hours now, flying everywhere, makeup probably nonexistent by now, you can thank your idiot ass for that, wiping your eyes too many times to count. The only savior is your fresh outfit you put on before closing down the cafe.

"Surprise!" His cocky voice music to your ears, a half smile playing on his face, trying to contain his excitement.

As you face him, you see his freshly shaved face, tempted to bury your nose right now into the crook of his neck, already feeling the scent of shower, his body wash and cologne mixing like a potion brewed for your own desire. And you just do that, giving in to the thought, when you do, he let's out an honest laugh, the sound vibrating in your whole body, head to toe.

"Hello to you too." His voice cuts through your ear despite being merely a whisper.

"Oh my lord, you smell so good." You sigh, pushing your face further to his body, trying to get swallowed by his presence. He chuckles, finally snaking his strong arms around your frame. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." You can't see his face, but you know this sentence carries so much at once. "Thought i check on my hardworking girl." A small kiss is planted on the crown of your head, lingering a little before pulling back a little.

"Are you okay?" He asks with a tight smile, not wanting to push too much if you aren't in the mood to unpack the happenings of the day.

"M'sorry for being unreachable, i just..." You start to explain, it's important to you that he knows it's just a busy day that held you back from talking to him more.

"C'mon, don't start with that horseshit." He puts his pointing finger in your moving lips, catching you off guard. "I just want to know if i can make this day better for you." He doesn't take it well when you over explain, a bad habit you can't shake off. You know he's not angry, but your brain starts the rambling before you now it. He always wondered why you do it. He's not insecure, he's not thinking you purposefully ignore his calls of texts, he told you numerous times, but you still try to detail the reasons you didn't had time to reply.

"Ohh, you already made it million times better." Just him showing up, offering comfort and love is enough to forget about asshole costumers, liters of spilled coffee and complains about the unsalted scrambled eggs.

You look in his ocean eyes, lost in the blue of his iris, and you don't mind if he sees how smitten you are. Maybe if you wouldn't be so overwhelmed by your own feelings, you would see just how deep he is in too.

His eyes flicker down, just for a second, and without another thought he captures your lips in a sweet lazy kiss. He pushes his chest to yours, pressing his hands on your back to trap you in his embrace. He tastes like menthol, wet and warm against your soft lips, slow and gentle but demanding, always taking the lead. You never complained and you'll never will, you enjoy the way he takes and gives back even more. A sigh escapes his lips when he pulls away, ending the kiss too soon for your liking. You try to chase after his wet lips, but he makes it clear he's not willing to give in. He often gets too flustered in public, while you grow cocky, switching the roles with only a small peck on the lips.

"Ride with me?!" He hands you the extra helmet, the words ending up a mess, between a question and a statement. You take the helmet happily, letting him help to put it on, checking thoroughly that it's on you properly.

He does the same, mounting the beautiful machine with confidence, every movement of his body delicious to your eyes. You probably zoned out, when you snap out of it, he looks back at you, only his eyes visible under the helmet, waiting for you to get on the bike behind him.

"Honey?" He asks, almost confused, seeing you lost in thought. But you don't waste more time, getting on the bike with the help of his body, your hand supporting your weight on his shoulder. A giggle escapes you when you are reminded of the first time with a motorcycle. You were so afraid and awkward, made Philip laugh, teasing you with a lighthearted voice. Now it comes naturally, the process and the steps after steps, and the trust you put in him with your life.

"Where are we going?" You ask, hugging his torso, pressing yourself to his back completely. He replies with the roar of the engine, speeding out of the parking lot making you yelp in surprise. Typical Phil, communicating with actions. While he's more than capable with his words, you heard it a millions of times, but when it comes to you, he usually can't find the right ones to express himself. So he gives kisses, pulls you close, his gaze always telling what's going on behind those pretty eyes.

The ride is cold against your body, the city buildings switching to suburb areas, and finally treelines leading the way. He's focused on the road now, while the city's slower traffic let him have his hand wonder on your leg, or clutched hands over his abdomen, now it's just you who clings into him for dear life. The ride is rather short, maybe half an hour before he pulls up a road to a hiking trail, slowly going up the hill, searching for something.

When he finds a spot for parking, he's killing the engine, turning to you to get off, but your eyes are already on the landscape of the city, sparkling lights of the ascending night, the sun setting behind the buildings.

He stops you before you could walk off, his hands on your helmet.

"Maybe we should get rid of these, don't ya think?" He says, a hint of amusement is his voice. He unclips the helmet agonizingly slow, taking in your face curiously, inhaling the look on you as your eyes wonder between him and the beautiful sight behind him. At this point he might get jealous of the view, because it takes your attention away from him.

He takes off his helmet in seconds, catching your hand in his, keeping you close to his side.

You are in an awe at how the city lights are sparkle like little fires, burning under the orange light of the setting sun. Manmade and natural meeting, creating something wonderful for your eyes.

You walk over the cliff, just an unstable wooden fence protecting you falling over, old and overused benches placed around.

"Stunning. You can see every sparkle of the city from here." You say, eyes glued on the sight, but Graves's attention is on you, and only you. He saw this view too many to count, under a snow blanket, washed over with rain, shaken by thunder, melting in the summer heat. In his memory, every one of his visits seems the same, because he looked at it with his own eyes. But now, he's experiencing it through yours, and it's like seeing the seven wonders of the Earth.

It's a core memory. The woman he love dearly, but so fucking afraid of admitting it, glowing in the golden hour, a satisfied smile on her face. You are close to him, clinging to his arm, your weight heavily leaning on him, in his mind a clear sign of trust. You are standing near a cliff, hand in hand with him, only an aged broken little fence standing between you and the edge of death, and he thinks he'll never find a single soul on this planet who would trust him this much. He's not that kind of person, he can accept it now.

"So what's the occasion?" You ask, snapping him out of his zoned out state, his eyes focusing on your perched up brow, teasing smile on your lips, eager to know why he has brought you along to this spot, having a feeling it's some sort of safe space for him.

"Can't i pamper my favorite girl, hm?" He leaves a peck on your temple, turning his eyes back to the tiny lights dancing around the city.

"Favorite, huh?" You elbow him teasingly, a painful laugh erupting from his body.

"Just enjoy it, will you?"

"I am." You smile at him, his shy wandering eyes jumping between your eyes and lips. He has a guilty look on his face, giving away the whole reason of this little trip. "You leaving, aren't you?"

He's surprised, not expecting you to figure it out so soon. He wanted more time to think about the words, to how he'll be dosing the information of him travelling far away from you for god knows how long. Despite his expectations, you aren't mad. Your smile turns sad, but the love in your eyes never burns out. "Yeah hun."

"When?" Now your whole focus is on him, body turned to face him.

"Tomorrow." Oh that guilty look again. He's asking for forgiveness with one look, lips in a thin line waiting for your reaction. You just hug him, tight with every ounce of your strength put in your arms to press his body to yours.

"I'm sorry i..."

"Shhhhh." You shush him. "It's your job, i knew what i'm getting myself into. I'm just sad you didn't tell me earlier. I could have call in sick and.."

"Nah honey, that's nonsense, You have a life to live, you can't just throw away everything because of me."

"Uh yes i can? If i want to. You are a part of this life you know."

He just sighs, his forehead resting on yours, collecting himself a little, arranging his thoughts, ignoring the sharp pain in his chest. You let him, you just stay there, drawing circles on his back reminding him that he's not alone in this.

"I love you." He whispers so softly you think it's just the wind playing with your mind, murmuring cruel things to you. You feel the air freeze, Phil's breath held back in anticipation. You act fast without thinking, now or never. If you heard it wrong, you still can say you said what has been on the tip of your tongue for ages now.

"I love you." He pulls back, so many things flashing in his eyes before locking his lips on yours, capturing you in a heated kiss, teeth clashing tongues battling. It's not subtle and romantic but passionate and demanding, just how he is like. Your body craves the power of his kiss, but you break away just to say one thing.

"Now take me home, Philip."

"Yes m'am"

[prodigal-explorer]

to celebrate together - a sanders sides fanfiction

this is a cute fluffy fic (for the most part) about human versions of the sides discussing easter, ramadan, and passover, three very prominent holidays from three different religions during the springtime!

(cws -> brief mention of anti-semetism, brief mention of anti-semetic hate crimes, honestly there are brief moments of insensitivity towards all three religions mentioned (christianity/catholicism, islam, and jewish) but they are genuine moments of confusion and not in bad faith! this fic is about learning and growing and respecting other religions, so there is a bit of a learning curve.)

word count: 2.9k

(also, i know i usually write a lot of unsympathetic patton which may deter some people. it will comfort these people to know that patton is not unsympathetic in this fic! he's actually a cool guy! so don't worry about that.)

Everyone in the house knew that Easter was one of Patton’s favorite holidays by now. They had only been living together for a few months, but it was obvious from the new way Patton carried himself in the springtime. He bought a lot of Easter-themed furniture, so by the time March 1st rolled around, the house was covered head to toe in eggs, bunnies, baskets, chicks, and crosses. Lots of crosses. 

“Why are there a bunch of plus signs everywhere?” Roman had dared to ask one day, “Logan, is this one of your math projects?” 

“You seriously don’t know what a cross is?” Patton asked, his eyes wide with shock, “Oh, that’s right. You’re balsamic.” 

“Uh…Islamic,” Roman corrected awkwardly, “Me and Remus just say we’re Muslim. And I know what a cross is, I just didn’t know that it was one of those. They really do look like plus signs with a big tail. What are they all for?” 

“Well, they’re Easter decorations!” Patton explained readily, “Since Easter is the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus, we have crosses here to commemorate all he sacrificed for his people.” 

“Wow,” Roman said, a smile forming on his face, “I guess Jesus must have been pretty brave.” 

“He’s not just brave, Roman,” Patton said, “He died for us. The least we can do is celebrate him.” 

“Yeah, that seems fair,” Roman said, still gazing around the colorful, decked out area with a gentle, somewhat cautious curiosity that was generally unlike him. He seemed to sense that this was sensitive territory. “So…why do you guys celebrate Easter the way you do? With the bunnies and the eggs? Did Jesus really like sunny side up or something? Did he have a pet bunny?” 

“Come on,” Patton said, “I want to tell everyone about this!” 

Roman grinned and followed Patton into the living room, where the others were sitting and chatting. Logan was on the recliner, working on a grocery list, while Janus and Remus were on the ground, playing Go-Fish. Virgil was spread across the couch, scrolling through his phone. 

“Guys, Patton’s gonna teach us about Easter!” Roman said, “Like, why they use the eggs and stuff.” 

“It’s because of Jesus,” Logan droned tiredly, staring up at Patton, “Is this really necessary?” 

“Of course it’s necessary, Logan!” Patton chastised, “It’s the most important event of springtime!” 

Virgil tilted his head. “But what about Passover?” 

“Pass-what?” Patton said, clearly confused, “No, we’re talking about Easter. What’s passover?” 

“I like Layat Al-Qadr best,” Remus shrugged, “It’s the only night of the year where I can get Roman to shut up.” 

“Hey!” Roman protested, “Oh, I have an idea! We’ll have a contest. Each of us will talk about what we think is the most important event of springtime, and then we’ll hold a vote!” 

“I suppose we can do that,” Janus said, “Logan and I don’t celebrate any of these things, so we will be neutral voters. We don’t have any emotional attachment to any of the options.” 

“Perfect!” Patton said, “And we’ll start with Easter, because Easter is-”

“Fat chance,” Virgil said, “Everyone already knows everything about Easter. It’s the only holiday that Americans give a shit about. It’s all over the supermarkets, it gets all the attention and respect. You don’t even know what Passover is, and do you even know that Ramadan exists?” 

“Of course I know what ramen is, I had some for dinner last night,” Patton said. 

The room was silent for a second. 

“Virgil has a point,” Logan said, but when Patton pouted, Logan continued, “But we can still hear Patton out. He may say something we don’t know about yet. Besides, if we’re going to keep this vote objective, we need to hear out every option with equal respect and attention. Can we do that?” 

“Yeah, sorry, Pat,” Virgil said softly.

“Sure,” Remus said, “Tell us about how Jesus got nailed on a cross.” 

“Why would I tell you about that if you already know that part?” Patton asked with a disgusted expression. 

“Cuz it’s the coolest part,” Remus replied with a toothy grin. 

“Well…you’re not entirely wrong,” Patton said, growing excited as he started again to speak, “Easter is the holiday that celebrates the resurrection of Jesus! It’s celebrated every springtime, after the first full moon of spring. Jesus was arrested by Jewish leaders, and he was sentenced to death on the cross for trying to lead his people.” 

“Interesting,” Janus mumbled, narrowing his eyes a bit, “Jewish leaders. That was an interesting detail to mention. Why does that matter to you, Pat?” 

“Anyway,” Patton said icily before continuing the story, “A man named Joseph asked these leaders to take Jesus down from the cross after he died, in order to bury him properly. They allowed it, and Joseph buried Jesus in a stone tomb. But three days later, when people came to put spices on Jesus’ body, they found that he was gone!” 

“So Jesus wasn’t actually dead??” Roman asked, clearly shocked by that twist in the story. 

“Well, of course he’s not dead,” Patton said, “That’s the entire point of Easter, buddy! Jesus was resurrected. Easter is a holiday that represents rebirth. There’s always hope, and Jesus will always be there for us. Even during the darkest times, and even in the face of death.” 

“Jesus is badass,” Remus remarked, “But that still doesn’t explain why there are eggs, though.” 

“Oh! Another part of Easter is something called Lent,” Patton said, “In the 40 days leading up to Easter Sunday, Christians and Catholics celebrate Lent, which is a time of prayer and resisting temptation from sin. People sometimes give up things that they consider to be sinful during Lent. It’s a mindful thing. Right now, I’m giving up alcohol. And back in the medieval times, eggs weren’t allowed during Lent, so on Easter Sunday, eggs were used to signify that Lent has passed on by. Also, eggs…they represent rebirth in a way.” 

“Don’t they just represent birth?” Logan asked. 

“Well, I guess, but…come on, Logan! You like the egg salad I make every easter!”

“Your egg salad is quite good.” 

“That’s what I thought.” 

“Easter is pretty cool,” Virgil said, “That’s really cool, actually.” 

“So you think it’s better than your day?” Patton asked hopefully. 

Virgil laughed. “Good one. Easter sounds awesome and all, but nothing beats Passover.” 

“What’s that one?” Roman asked eagerly, “Why’s it called Passover? Do you play basketball or something?” 

“Okay, where the heck did basketball come from?” Janus asked. 

“I mean…you pass over the ball. In basketball,” Roman replied. 

“No basketball,” Virgil chuckled, “It’s actually called Passover for a bit of a complicated reason. I’ll start from the beginning. This story starts in Egypt. The pharaoh, who is basically the leader of Egypt, didn’t like Jewish people, and he didn’t want too many Jewish people living in Egypt. So he enslaved all the Jews who currently lived there, and ordered that all Jewish babies who are birthed in Egypt get killed.” 

Roman’s eyes widened, and he started to feel a bit sick. 

“But why?” he demanded, “The Jewish babies didn’t even do anything!” 

“You’d be surprised what people do to people who are different,” Virgil replied in a mutter, “Anyway, one Jewish woman decided that she wouldn’t let her baby die. She hid her baby in a basket and put him into the river, to float away to somewhere safer. The pharaoh's daughter found the baby, and decided to take him in. His name was Moses.” 

“Oh! Moses!” Roman cried out in recognition, “Like the movie, like the movie The Prince Of Egypt!” 

Virgil smiled slightly and nodded. 

“Yeah,” he said, “Yeah, like that movie. That’s a good movie if you guys want to learn more about Moses.” 

“And listen to some amazing songs by Stephen Schwartz!” Roman added. 

“Roman, let’s let Virgil finish, okay?” Logan said, and Roman reluctantly nodded, turning his attention back to Virgil. 

“Anyway, Moses grew up, and found out that he was Jewish, and he came from a Jewish family. He saw how horribly his people were being treated, and when he killed a slave master, he ran away to the desert,” Virgil continued, “There, he found a burning bush, and the bush talked to him. The bush basically said that he was God, and he was going to help Moses set the Jewish people free. But when Moses came back and told the pharaoh this, the pharaoh refused, over and over. And every time the pharaoh refused, God sent down a different plague, or curse, to Egypt.” 

“But that’s not fair,” Patton protested, “The rest of the people didn’t even do anything.” 

“Well, I don’t disagree,” Virgil said, “But God wasn’t feeling very forgiving after having his people enslaved for years. He knew that there was no other way to convince the pharaoh.” 

“Yeah, if you’re gonna get mad at anyone, get mad at the pharaoh,” Janus said, “He was the stubborn son of a bitch who wouldn’t set free the slaves. He put his people in danger by doing that just because he wanted more free labor.” 

“There were a lot of plagues because the pharaoh kept saying no,” Virgil explained, “And the tenth plague was a curse called the angel of death, a curse that would kill the first-born child of every home. In order to protect the innocent families, God told Moses to tell anyone who would listen to paint over their door with lamb’s blood. If the door was painted over, then the curse would pass over them, and nobody would die. Passover, see?” 

Roman nodded, his eyes widening as he was enraptured in the story. “Passover,” he repeated. 

“The Israelites listened to Moses, but a lot of others in Egypt didn’t, including the Pharaoh,” Virgil said, a bit sadly, “It sucked. They all had to learn the hard way. If they had just listened to Moses, nobody would have died. If the pharaoh had just let the Israelites go the first time, then none of the plagues would have had to happen. But stricken with grief after his firstborn son died, the pharaoh finally let the Israelites go, and they were freed from slavery.” 

“So that’s the story of Passover,” Logan said, “How is it celebrated?” 

“Well, it’s celebrated for eight days,” Virgil explained, “Seven if you’re in Israel. But here in America, it’s eight. On the first night of Passover, Jewish families have a Passover seder, which is a big dinner where we pray and sing, and we tell stories from a book called the Haggadah. All families celebrate a little differently, but for the most part, we do that stuff. I remember when I was little, my mom would always give me a sip of her wine.”

“Damn, just a sip?” Remus asked with a little laugh, “Shoulda given you a whole cup. Imagine a drunk little Virgil stumbling around.” 

“That would have been cool,” Virgil admitted, “Me and my cousins would drink grape juice and pretend to be drunk. After all the serious stuff was over, of course. A big part of Passover is discussing current events. Unfortunately, most places in the world aren’t very Jew-friendly. Even here in America, there are a lot of hate crimes. Actually…” 

Roman noticed with horror that Virgil was getting teary-eyed. 

“Virgil?” Logan asked quietly, “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said, trying to wipe away his tears before they fell, “This is hard to talk about. The synagogue that my family went to when I was a kid before I moved here, it- a few years ago- it- it got burnt down.” 

“Burnt down,” Janus realized, “As in…someone did it. On purpose.” 

Virgil nodded, his eyes completely downcast. He was crying, but his face was hardened, almost angry. But not quite. He seemed too sad to be angry. 

“All the drawings the kids made. All the food that people donated. All the copies of the Torah,” he whispered, “It was all gone in one night. My parents still can’t talk about it without crying. I guess I can’t either.” 

“I’ve never heard of anyone burning down a religious building like that,” Patton said softly, “That’s horrible.” 

“Yeah? That’s cuz they don’t burn down your stuff,” Janus said quietly, putting a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, “I’m sorry, Virgil. You…don’t deserve that. Nobody deserves that. No matter what.” 

“Don’t let me stop you from continuing the competition,” Virgil said, “Remus, I wanna hear about yours. What is this one day that can get Roman to shut up?” 

“Do we really have to bring that joke back?” Roman asked, too amused to be sore. 

“Well, the night I was talking about, Layat Al-Qadr, is just one night of Ramadan,” Remus started to explain, “Ramadan’s actually about a month long.” 

“A whole month?” Logan asked, “Wow. That’s a lot longer than Easter and Passover.” 

“Not if you count Lent,” Patton pointed out. 

“Layat Al-Qadr is the 27th day of Ramadan,” Roman continued, “And you pray the whole entire night, pretty much. We ask Allah to forgive us for the mistakes we made, and we hope that he says yes.” 

“How do you know if he says yes?” Logan asked, tilting his head slightly. 

Roman shrugged. “You don’t. That’s why you have to believe.” 

“That sounds kinda boring, praying for the whole night,” Janus admitted, “Is that seriously the only thing you do?” 

“I was worried it would be boring too,” Roman admitted, “But it’s actually really cool. You’d be surprised how therapeutic it is. It feels nice, talking to someone who you know will always listen. Reflecting on all the stuff you did, and figuring out how to do better without worrying about anyone getting mad at you or hating you.” 

“And we also have iftar,” Remus said, “It’s like a giant meal, and we get to spend time with family while breaking our fast.” 

“Wait, wait- you fast?” Virgil asked, “For an entire month?” 

“It’s not so bad,” Remus shrugged, “Especially because we have iftar, and we usually eat a little bit in the morning. Breaking the fast together as a family during iftar is cool, because, like, everybody’s breaking it at the same time. So it’s like- we all are hungry together, and then we all become satisfied together. It’s pretty cool.” 

“We also have five prayers that we say every day,” Roman added, “Along with an extra one at night. The prayers are the really important part because it’s so traditional. It’s been done for so many years before us, it’s like…passing down a torch. We don’t want to forget about it. So we do it to honor the people before us, so that hopefully, the people after us have something in common with us when they celebrate Ramadan.” 

“Well, when you explain it like that, it sounds really cool,” Virgil admitted. 

“I used to think prayer was weird, and kinda culty,” Janus mumbled, clearly a bit ashamed, “But…it actually sounds awesome. Mindful, you know?” 

“Wait, where does Ramadan come from anyway?” Patton asked, “Like the fasting and the praying. Who started it?” 

“It was started by the Prophet Muhammad,” Roman said eagerly, “He’s this really cool guy who told us what Allah wanted for the Muslim people. And Ramadan is the month on the Muslim calendar where Muhammad found the Quran, which is our holy book. It’s sort of like Patton’s bible and Virgil’s Torah.” 

“Oh, gotcha,” Patton said. 

“To be more specific, it’s the ninth month of our calendar,” Remus said, “But also, it depends on the moon. It’s like a thing. To try and spot the Ramadan moon. Roman and I did it a few times when we were younger.” 

“It’s hard to do it now,” Roman said, “There’s so much artificial light in this city. But once it’s high enough in the sky, we can see it great. It’s so cool, feeling like you discovered something.” 

“And we fast because Muhammad told us to, basically,” Remus said, “It’s one of the five pillars of Islam, fasting during Ramadan. And like Roman said, the Muslim people have done it for thousands and thousands of years. So it feels really awesome to continue it today. Even if it leaves us a little hungry and cranky sometimes.” 

“You guys should come to iftar sometime,” Roman said, “A bunch of our Muslim friends and us all come together and eat and talk and laugh, and just enjoy each other’s company.” 

“It sounds amazing,” Virgil said, “Kinda like Passover seder.” 

Remus nudged Virgil gently, smiling over at him. 

“Hey, yeah!” he said. 

“And Easter Sunday!” Patton piped up. 

“Maybe all our events have more in common than we think,” Roman said, “I mean, all of them have cool stories, and big dinners, and just…that festive attitude. That feeling of carrying on a tradition that’s so much bigger than yourself.” 

“Do we even need a vote, then?” Logan asked, “I don’t know what to vote for. All of those events sound lovely.” 

“I agree,” Janus said, “Maybe we can vote on something else. Like what movie to watch tonight?” 

“I vote The Prince Of Egypt!” Roman cried out, “Virgil made me think about it, and now all the songs are in my head!” 

“Oh! I’ll make some egg salad for dinner!” Patton said, “It’s the 21st century, we’re allowed to eat eggs during Lent now!” 

“Maybe I’ll bring in the leftover date cookies from yesterday’s iftar,” Remus said. 

“Yes, those are so good!” Roman agreed, “And I wrapped them in foil, so they should still taste fresh!” 

Virgil smiled and closed his eyes, wiping away his residual tears gently as he listened to his friends ramble and scramble to celebrate together. Maybe tonight, this strange amalgamation of Easter, Ramadan, and Passover, the mutual respect and admiration for these three holidays, was their most important event of the springtime.

--

(i hope you all enjoyed this fic!! during times like these especially, it is so important to remember that every religion is beautiful and valid, and every religious holiday ought to be respected! now, i am not catholic, christian, muslim, or jewish. i wrote about these holidays after doing extensive research from multiple sources for each, but if i got anything wrong, please please let me know and i will correct it to the best of my ability. i promise i want to learn and grow, just like these guys, so if something is inaccurate, please tell me if you feel so inclined, and i will take what you say into account!!)

(have an amazing spring, no matter what you celebrate!!)

[lieslab]

you grew up on a farm?!? no way! that's so cool! i'm pretty sure most kids also thought of this, but i've always wanted to live in a farm... the animals are just so cute~ (≧∇≦)

i'd love to see your dear sheep as well, and don't be sorry for going 'off topic', it's endearing to see people talk about things that makes them excited ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

Welcome to some unknown lore: It was such a big responsibility at such a young age. I know I have followers from everywhere, but I'm from the United States and more specifically, the mid-western portion. When I started to get livestock, I was nine. From the ages of nine to twelve, I had a bunch of animals.

My childhood was full of grass stains, the smell of manure, gardening, and feeling so proud when I successfully carried a giant five gallon bucket full of water to my backyard from the back of the house where the hose was.

A lot of the midwestern United States is full of farmers and flat land that's rich with good soil for farming. It's not really a surprise to encounter a lot of different kinds of farms. Some people say it's boring, but I really like it. So much flat land and it's easy to see the sun when it rises and sets.

The moon is almost always on display every night outside of town and the stars speckle the sky like dots of glitter. I'm not a huge fan of fireworks, but around the 4th of July, the night sky is always being painted with colors. It's one of the most beautiful things to encounter, honestly. ESPECIALLY, if you can find a flat spot over a lake or a river. They reflect in the water and it's mesmerizing.

I was heavily involved in 4-H for a few years. I showed a few animals at my local county fair and entered competitions with them. I actually used to have ribbons from when I won competitions for showing those animals. It was such a good time in my life. I can't help, but miss it at times.

I raised baby chicks one year. They always had a heat lamp and craved warmth. I used to put on a flannel and tuck one into my shirt pocket. I'd sing them to sleep and they were the cutest little things. Bright and fluffy, yellow with happy chirps, and wide beady eyes.

The year after that, I had ducks. I got them when they were just little ducklings. Similar to the chickens, they were so yellow and so soft. I used to stick them in my bathtub and giggle as they swam around. They absolutely adored water.

I had the cutest and sweetest calico baby goat. He was so shy and his name was Prince. He loved to run around his enclosure and bleat. He'd kick his legs and twirl around. He had tiny horns and he ran around with another goat that I named Princess. How original, I know. Cut me some slack, I was nine. She was gray and white. I so desperately WISH I had photos of the pair to show you, but I didn't have a phone as a kid.

It was so much fun, but my parents were dead set on teaching me responsibility from a young age and it definitely worked. Every morning, I got up and fed all the animals. I had to collect the eggs from chickens and everything.

My sheep is an entirely different story. There were a bunch of 4-H groups in my area and one of the farmers was nice enough to sponsor a few of us. It was supposed to be an essay competition. A handful of kids, whoever wrote the best essay on why they should win a lamb, they'd be given a lamb for free. That year, not many kids entered the competition, so we all won baby lambs.

I got my lamb when I was ten. She was as stubborn as a mule and a lot of people say sheep are stupid. It's an absolute lie. She was one of the smartest animals that I ever had. She lived in my backyard for eight years and it was a blast. She had so much attitude and I miss her deeply.

I always tried to feed the animals at the same time every morning and evening. If I fed her an hour late, she somehow knew. She'd get huffy and stomp her hooves. For a while, she was so good at following me around that I used to let her out of her pin and she'd follow me around my backyard. Imagine a ten year old and a giant fluffy sheep stomping through mid-calf deep snow.

She loved eating overgrown grass, sitting in the shade, and itching her ass on the fence. She itched herself so much and threw all her weight against the fence, at some point the fence actually snapped from it.

I grew up living next door to my grandmother and her flock of chickens. One day I went to my grandma's house and when I went to leave, my sheep met me a few feet away from the front door. The two of us stared at each other until she happily baa'd and strutted towards me.

All I could muster up was a "what the fuck are you doing outside of your pin?" and she proudly led me back to the spot where the fence broke because she kept itching her wool on it. Sheep wool is very, very oily, and it's kind of gross. Especially, during the summer when they get hot and sweaty and they have to be sheared. She kept trying to itch her body through all the wool constantly.

She was so good at alerting my family when things were wrong. One winter, a squirrel got on her water bucket and I assume it was trying to get a drink of water. It slipped and fell into the bucket and nearly drowned. She alerted us by screeching at the top of her lungs. My family was outside a lot, so it was easy to know when something was wrong with her. The squirrel was in shock, but it ended up surviving.

Sometimes neighborhood kids would come over and try to pet her and she hated it. She didn't like strangers and would attempt to buck the fence and their hand if they stuck their hands in the pin. My family had to start putting a padlock on her pin to keep kids out.

Farm animals can be very cute, but also dangerous if they're not comfortable with you. Chickens and ducks will peck. Goats will buck and if they have horns, they're able to impale you. The few times my sheep bucked with her head, she went directly for the thighs and she'd hit so hard that she'd leave bruises.

They can also be very picky. Every other week, we had to buy different sheep food for my sheep because she'd get tired of the same brand, so we'd have to go back and forth. If we didn't, she'd dump it all over the ground.

I swear to God she got reincarnated into the little fluffy rabbit that I have now. He's the exact same way. So spoiled, so privileged, and such a brat (but I love him so much)

This was my sheep and her name was Brooke. The photo of her and the ugly chicken is my favorite because it feels cursed. The chicken was old and flew up to perch on the end of the pin. It freaked her out and she screamed. When I walked into my garage, that's what I seen.

She was loved up until she died and beyond. I wish I had better photos. She had a four leaf clover on her forehead that could be seen so well when she was freshly sheared. She lived a spoiled rotten life. She's probably in sheep heaven and still raising hell:

[rainbowdaisy13]

And just to add to my other posts, that you've posted.

PR is feeding Deux, she post everything. What Deux won't post is proof that this and Ratty were PR, I tried 5 times, she wouldn't post. She's only getting paid to push things that further the narrative. While the TikTok girl was talking about Taylor paying for everything at the restaurant, it was reported that he had already rented out the place for his team, friends and family.

Deux is being hailed a hero for being in the know. At least that Kyle woman on TT is calling Deux out on her shit. The rags are saying Taylor's black SUV was at Travis's all night, at the same time saying it wasn't. Also Travis has a black SUV, he is photographed getting out of it in the latest Daily Mail article at his house. There's conflict everywhere, Taylor's chaos. The only thing that is fact right now is that she is not really dating this meathead.

I'm going to say this, my friend at the Daily Mail said they were called to take pics at Taylor's home and gave them the time she'd be arriving. They were also told to take pics of what the security guys were carrying. That's how it works. Taylor's car pulls into the garage, so why not unload her stuff there? Why carry stuff up outside and up the stairs in plain sight? Because of the candle and the bags, that's why. They are Easter Eggs promoting upcoming re-releases.

Exhausting, but I'm all in to fight those who want to believe this is real.

What a tangled web she weaves

[teddyniffler]

Chapter 3. Sebastian

Solomon Sallow stood in the main room. Sebastian and Anne were standing before him, not daring to make eye contact with their uncle or with each other. The man was frozen in disbelief.

Between the two children and the man was what remained of Solomon’s cabinet of fine decorative porcelain plates and cups. It had been inherited by Solomon from his parents, one of the few little things they had left him. The majority of his parent's items had been given to his brother, the children’s father, and later it had all been destroyed along with the lower house in the incident that killed his brother and Sister in law.

The main room, always so tidy, looked like a wizard’s duel had taken place. Broken shards of pottery and splinted wood lay everywhere. The apples were on the floor and the table was overturned. Dust raining down slowly in the air, reflecting and dancing in the sunlight as it settled upon the children’s brown hair. He had only just left these children alone for a second to walk across the green to visit Bernard Ndiaye, the local vender for eggs. He had been gone only a matter of moments and his home had turned into a war zone.

“What happened?” Solomon asked, although he could guess. He looked from twin to twin. They didn’t speak, but the boy’s mouth opened, then it closed.

“Boy?” Solomon pushed.

“I didn’t do anything, it just happened.” Sebastian said, his large, round, brown eyes the exact shade of his fathers. Whenever Solomon looked at Sebastian, it was like seeing his brother one more time again.

“The cabinet and the table, just all just broke by itself?” Solomon asked, raising his eyebrows. He already knew what had happened here, the boy had lost control again and he had put himself and his sister in harm’s way one more time.

“No, but-“ Sebastian started “It just blew up.”

Anne started crying then, loud crying, the sort that would carry through the open door for the neighbors to hear. The locals were already talking about the multiple meltdowns by these two children when they thought Solomon wasn’t around, they had really shaken up the normal sleepiness of Feldcroft with their arrival here.

“You used your magic again, didn’t you?” Solomon said, eyes only on Sebastian. Sebastian! It was always Sebastian.

This boy was going to kill him with stress one day.

Solomon was fond of his Niece and Nephew, but the boy was so much hard work, it seemed everything he did was to challenge Solomon’s sanity.

Within the few months they had been here, Sebastian had a temper tantrum or a meltdown almost every day. There was so much screaming and crying, not to mention hair pulling. The twins would sometimes fight with each other, biting and clawing the other which always ended in both of them breaking down. A simple trip to Hogsmeade last month to buy them clothes had ended with Sebastian throwing himself on the floor, making a fuss on the Hogsmeade Highstreet because Solomon said no to buying him a toy broomstick. His parents had apparently promised him one, so why wasn’t Solomon buying him one? Solomon had tried to explain he was now the adult in charge, but Sebastian didn't listen.

They had been Hogwarts Students in the village that day, Hogwarts staff. People he knew from his old job as an Auror. The streets were full to bursting and there was Sebastian laying on the floor with people walking around him, muttering, muttering.

The memory still mortified Solomon.

Solomon understood the kids had been through a very traumatizing event, but while Anne was becoming more adjusted by the week, Sebastian was turning more problematic by the day. He used his emotions to make his magic flare up, resulting in Solomon’s home and his village being destroyed little by little. They had been countless memery charms used on the Muggles to make them forget seeing a young child blowing up pumpkins with his hands.

“No! I don’t know how to use magic, it just blew up!” Already, angry tears were forming in his eyes.

“How many times must I tell you not to use this magic. You may be only seven right now, but in a few years from now you shall be at Hogwarts, you must learn how to control yourself, boy. You need to stop doing these things. We have laws that must be followed, the Muggles have seen things. You will get into trouble with the law if you don't stop.”

“It wasn’t me!” Sebastian roared, stamping his feet. Above the boy, the oil lamp started swaying as if caught in a high wind. It was super hot, Solomon knew from burning himself many times. If that fell on top of Sebastian…

“Come, go to your bed.” Soloman ordered him, trying to get him away from the lamp.

“No!” Sebastian shouted, “It wasn’t me, it blew up by itself!”

He pointed in anger at the broken cabinet on the floor, which proceeded to ignite itself. Thick black smoke quickly started raising from the floor and a smell of smoldering wood reached Solomon’s nose.

Above Sebastian, the oil was splashing.

Solomon picked Sebastian up under his arms and carried him to the other room. Right on que, Sebastian started wiggling and kicking. Next would come the uncontrollable crying that would go on for hours. It was always best to just put him to bed whenever this happened, give him somewhere quite to let his emotions out. Solomon knew this child had a lot of them.

BOOOOOOM

“I hate you! I want my mother and father!” Sebastian shouted. Anne was still standing there in the other room, covering her eyes from the smoke burning them, screaming in fear as flames started dancing towards her. The window exploded due to the heat, smoke now gushing out of the window, no doubt alerting and alarming all the Muggles in the village.

Taking out his wand, Solomon extinguished the fire that was now threatening to burn down his small house. Then he waved the wand to allow some air to waft the smoke away, before repairing the smoke damage, the broken cabinet and the window.

It was then he remembered there was a little girl standing there still, no longer screaming, but standing shock still.

“Come here.” Solomon said to Anne over her brother’s torrent of curses. He picked her up in his arms.

“Shhh, it’s ok. It’s ok. Look, can you see the honking daffodils? Once, a Muggle told me that she had heard them honking! I told her it was a very loud duck from the pond. I don’t think she-”

Anne had started a meltdown of her own now too. Solomon remembered only too late that the children’s mother had kept honking daffodils too.

Kids. He never wanted children himself, he was not cut out for such responsibilities. He felt like crying himself over how unrecognizable his childfree, carefree life had become. Since his irresponsible brother had gotten himself killed, he was now responsible for his two children who he hardly knew.

“Shhh” He said, slightly bouncing Anne. “Calm down now.”

Sebastian’s curses turned into a scream of frustration which were then drowned out by the sound of something big in the other room. Taking down Dark Wizards had proved so much easier than child rearing.

Solomon put Anne down and went into the bedroom. Sebastian was off his bed and had kicked the tin bathtube. The deep dent in the side of the bath was clearly magical, no seven year old Muggle child could have kicked that with such force. He picked Sebastian up and placed him back on the bed.

“Do I need to remind you how to behave, boy?” He warned emptily. He knew from dealing with unreasonable wizards that a simple threat would often work.

Sebastian looked up at him, eyes full of rage as the jug by the sink exploded.

Fine. The boy will learn to behave by being sent to bed for the rest of the day. Repairing the jug, he closed the shutters around Sebastian’s bed.

“Leave your bed again and you’ll regret it. I’ve had enough of these temper tantrums. I will see you at dinner time.”

Sebastian started to scream again.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean it” Sebastian muttered, shaking violently, his hand clawing the gutter where he laid. “I didn’t mean to break it. I didn’t mean any of it.”

The Dementor glided in silently, unnoticed by Sebastian, bringing food for the day. It paused for a moment once it touched yesterday’s food with its pale scabby hand. The Dementor was blind, but it could smell the hunger in the boy below it, sucking up that energy the Dementor grew excited. It continued to fed on the boy in the cell. This boy held many traumatic memories in his head, and being younger than all in here was refreshing. The Dementor liked it, sadly so did the others in this wing. They had been fighting lately among themselves, who would get to feed more often on this cell. The Dementor knew one thing though, feedings around this boy would only grow more satisfying soon, the creature had seen enough inmates over time slowly wasting away, it always started like this. Their food always tasted better when it was wasting away.

[sea-salt-child]

In the Room (Pokepasta)

Everything that happens to me is a metaphor.

…

I live in a house with many rooms. These rooms comfortably hold me and the others, although I’ve never met any of them. I am, in a way, the final resting place for many games.

I’m talking about Pokémon this time around.

I really like those games- they fill me with a sense of wonder, companionship, freedom… truly, they are the best and I feel a little sad to see them change.

They take easily and grow around, able to handle heavy gashes without completely tearing at the seams.

They call that property being “highly compatible”.

On the first day, I woke up with a strong impression about the room and its contents. That is how I knew something had to have changed. Do you ever get that sensation?

You see, the game is a consequence rather than a cause and I eventually spotted it on my laptop’s contents.

It would be silly to give me real hardware, you know? So I work with emulators. This is just as well, for me, because I’m more used to this anyhow and changing would be a pain.

I opened the game up.

Music started, but stopped jarringly once the Gamefreak logo was supposed to show up. Rather, a text box opened:

“What? Where did he go? I swear I saw him enter this room!”

I need you to trust me. I need you to believe that I’ve committed every detail to memory, stuffing it down my throat, into my brain. If that trust is broken, then nothing else has any significance from here on out.

“...Oh. Again?”

The press of a button and it was all wiped to black, then blue as the regular menu opened up.

There was already a game there. Player “Retry”. One of the others must have gotten this before me, then, and made a mess. I’m used to that kind of situation and, out of respect for their privacy, I started a new game.

The game skipped directly to the opening sequence, in the truck- but the boxes in stacks extended beyond the usual confines in every direction, giving the impression of a huge room rather than a jostling vehicle.

Motion stopped and it all went silent as my character walked to where the exit should be and disappeared. The room resumed moving and I was left looking at nothing.

It’s not a big deal, really- the game just needs to think a little and recover from the last bout of changes. I don’t mind it- if anything, these imperfections left behind let me connect with the others in a way I usually can’t.

Words slowly appeared, black and one after another, making it hard for me to understand the phrase. They went by and I wrote each one to a text document:

“I can’t see the sky from here”

No, I can’t. Even if I look outside the window, I can only see the laundry room. Sometimes, I see people wash things, do their jobs, but they don’t look my way. 

I pressed buttons, trying to get something to happen, only for the character to appear at the top of the screen, slowly falling back into place and like so, I finally was given control to roam around the box-filled room, able to walk over anything in my way.

These experiences are the core of the game, exposed and reflecting. I make this, change everything to the core and then they take the game back to spread among the normal people of the normal world.

I checked the menu, eventually, to see my character. My name was a single animating water tile.

She was splattered with petals of unknown flowers. 

Spreading everywhere, obscuring stats, scattering, only letting me see part of her face with vibrantly yellow eyes. 

Already, the game was giving under my touch. 

Next, my pokémon-

Three eggs and nothing more, all said to be hatching soon.

When I closed the menu, leaves now fell, carried by breeze around my rose wracked avatar. My mirror, my mouthpiece…

They are interested in “out there” reflections much more than they care about what they mean. I’m a last ditch attempt to get something usable once the others have left their marks. 

I can’t run blood through, can’t leave eerie warnings, can’t weave fog and inject hatred. I can’t and I can’t and I can’t, and by repeating that I became the end of the road, unable to even express myself properly. 

My world is too small. It is smaller than the world in the box.

All of a sudden, the clock screen showed up, asking me to set the time. Thin golden cracks ran across the clock in harsh patterns. I informed it that it was one hour earlier than reality.

It must not have liked that- it made choked little sounds and gurgles for a few moments before the screen closed on its own and left me in the middle of Littleroot.

No one would let me in- every door I tried prompted the same message:

“This is not for you”

Followed by a short jingle I could not recognize from anywhere in the game.

Now I’m in the dark again, fluttering. It’s going down because it cannot go up and I’m caught in the flow. 

I opened my pokémon menu again.

Torchic simply looked from side to side, simply named “Arrival”. It was named that because it was named that, and so, it had to imply it.

The two eggs below changed- spots on the shell now flower shaped and small. I wondered if I would get all starters, then, and set out to play properly.

These are best envisioned as interludes rather than anything else. Between waves of change, there are stillnesses. 

This house contains a number of rooms dedicated to each of us. It is a pipeline, although there are exceptions. Games and objects are passed down long enough to become of interest and are then taken for, presumably, distribution. 

I’m a haunting in a box.

Although I could progress, NPCs were missing in several locations- ones that would normally impede my progress. Others would turn away from me whenever I approached and when forcefully talked to, would say strange things:

“Oh you poor thing…”

“I don’t believe it, end of story.”

“Found by candlelight.”

“She did that?”

“Why do we need to be involved?”

“It reverses”

Bits and pieces of abstract nonsense, repeated lines from dreams, former game journeys, dejà vu.

And then there was Wally.

I found him on a thin route placed strangely, not a normal part of the game. A long road going up, with strange streetlights- things not matching the game’s artstyle, but rather, scribbled in, animation between two shaky frames.

He met me midway through.

“This is… wrong. I don’t get it. Why did it end up like this?”

And a name input screen showed up. I thought- I thought. Poor Wally. He’s a good guy. He wouldn’t understand my situation. All I could respond with is:

“IS OK”

“Everyone else is freaking out about it. You don’t have to go all the way through on your own”

But I have to.

Because I wound up here.

A battle began, just like that. My Torchic against his Ralts. An easy victory for me- though he did surprise me by bringing out something I was unfamiliar with after his pokémon went down: A round thing with question marks in it, appropriately named “??????????”. It proceeded to just struggle itself to death.

When the game put me back into the overworld, I was in a town with an unknown name. Houses of every style- some on trees, some on lakes. Another sprawling location going forever as far as the eye can see.

 I call this a “Reticence”.

A moment the game needs in order to think, to realign its pieces in the presence of my story, of my outpouring of feelings and memories. 

I walked and I walked, occasionally running into pokemon out in the streets. This took me a while, and I split up the time between the game and sleeping. A familiar routine.

Arrival managed to grow up nicely into a Combusken. I was happy and I said so aloud, to which the game responded with nothing but advances on its mangled RNG. 

I checked on the eggs too, and they now bore identical messages:

“Whatever was inside, it has already died.”

A graveyard in my brain. When these things die, there is nowhere to bury them except for in memories. In that sense, these are living beings unlike me. I’ll be buried, but never loved in my descent. Their data allocation will be freed, their binaries returning to the primordial soup of ones and zeroes that breathe life into their world and likewise, my flesh will spread like grand wings and finally get me out of here.

I’ll return as a passing breeze back home and they will, in turn, become the data of pokémon to come.

A box opened up when I exited:

“ARRIVAL doesn’t understand!”

But he doesn’t need to. 

We continued our walk in the city and I wondered if the houses were organized like the boxes in the truck. An empty world that I explored until…

The clock screen again. 

Around 2:30 AM.

It was the crashing point in the situation, the last straw. The screen turned darker and darker and I could hear Arrival’s cry. 

I don’t like it. Even if it is just to a game, I don’t like to admit it. I don’t want it seen and rehashed over and over and over. My safest fantasies are upside down and unpleasant. I followed the creed that I was happy until I missed the train.

The day it happens is the day I’m forgiven but it cannot happen in the safety of this room. I can only be just as evil. 

Are the others the same? I don’t know. By the time the games get to me, there is such a big lump of things that it all just unravels back to nothing.

She was screaming her heart out because I couldn’t be trusted. Because I was failing my sole objective as a person. It stung and I curled up like a bug, with the heat of the old laptop against my belly. 

And she made the decision.

An alarm played all of a sudden and I blinked, having been dragged back to reality.

A bedroom- the protagonist’s bedroom, as if the game had just started.

I checked the clock again and it was as it should be- and then, my pokémon.

Two Bad EGGs. New messages:

“Looks like it wants to live anyway.”

A mercy. 

I went downstairs, to an empty room and another pop up- this time strange, placed on the very center of the screen rather than on the bottom:

“...?! ARRIVAL isn’t here! Let’s find him before ? blooms!”

You know, flowers are pretty common when I am given a game. They grow between the cracks and I can’t help it. I reckon is because of the garden. I took care of it myself and it got me out of the way of others. I watched them grow into their colors.

I don’t know if it still exists today. Maybe it has been overtaken by wilder plants… or maybe she uprooted it all, finishing the removal of myself from her life.

I treated it as a game of hide and seek rather than strictly an emergency.

Outside, the people had all turned to strange groupings of black lines, changing shape with their movements. I talked to them, and they would all comment on “these strange eggs”.

 Its okay. They are odd. Let them try their best, clawing for the surface. Give them a chance, don’t give up on them yet.

And so I went, into houses, suspicious corners, up routes, into grass, tracking down my poor friend.

That is when I met Wally for the second time.

He stood there, in front of the Normal-type gym. The lights dimmed as I approached, and the scribbled streetlights returned to my sight.

“Oh, it’s you. I found your ARRIVAL running here. Are you two okay?”

A yes or no prompt, to which I responded affirmatively.

“...”

“It’s really awful. Everyone was scared, you know? Every time someone new arrives, we learn more horrible things we can do nothing about.”

A new choice menu- but this time, all responses were flower tiles of every shape and size. Beautiful things opening up holes in the white, for me to choose.

“...Huh? Hey, those EGGs…?”

He stepped back and I pressed start. 

More flowers for text.

And then, an egg hatching screen.

Both eggs, sprites overlapping but desynced. Shaking, moving. The camera zoomed in, little sparkles like snow on top, falling around as the shell gave way to petals and leaves and thorns and all these undiluted emotions rushing into the mix, afraid to disappear.

The blooming remained on screen as everything returned. 

Snow. Snow on the ground, on the ceilings, coming down in heavy layers as if trying to suffocate my darlings.

Trying to say no, no, it didn’t happen how you think it happened.

Trying to remind me I’m a liar.

Swelling up to the point where rather than tears I have excuses lined up.

Hey, I can’t feel pain. You know that? So what does it mean if I scream my heart out?

“Hey! What’s going on?”

He should have just left, but he didn’t. The keyboard was cold under my fingers. An alarm started to play, the same alarm I had up every day. 

The seams made out of code started to burst. 

They went down to the bottom and then…

The game reset on its own.

My meal arrived just then.

I can’t go back. I messed up one too many times. Sorry, I didn’t say anything before but it happens that I’m evil. This is nothing but a safe place to store evil people. Even if I could leave, I would have no place to return to. No one to be happy to see me. These are little sounds I make with my mouth and that’s all. My brain isn’t right. I wake up and pace, going in circles and coiling back to that day.

I went back to the game that night.

Rather than where I left off, I was in the middle of an unknown route. Snow still fell, but gently. The manifestation of game incompatible things, a sign of the later stages of infection.

My character was a mess of pixels in black and white, dragging flowers behind, as if cut from their usual animations in the world.

Opening the pokémon menu, the pokémon displayed as small things with shapes I did not recognize, but who were named the same thing: “Festival”.

Their summary revealed their shapes. A pair of Mew in a strange pose, almost translucent, looking oh so fragile. In that way, they were things. Things dragged by the current, making me colder by the second.

Music, somber and quiet, like a funeral march.

And then, Arrival. Standing at the edge of the screen and running off when I began to chase.

The road gave way to tall grass, cut like a maze where he was hard to spot. I pursued, thinking to myself- it’s too cold! He’ll freeze!

Someone, please care about that.

No one is coming here to claim us back.

Someone, just follow. Just care, a little bit! Corners of the screen ripping, glitchy textures showing up, all towards my house. My real house in all its drab colors, with all the gardens, with homework and chores and sunrises and frozen food and mom.

The loud sound of Arrival’s cry snapped me out of it and I noticed him taking a fork in the road. I stopped there and its sprite span close to the warp, crying out for me.

I know it is all my heart hurting and beating in place, seeping into the fissures. I know, but it was still hard to agree to take that turn.

A beach. Sounds of waves, a gentle sky, sand mixing with unnatural snow. 

Arrival scrambled over to Wally.

“Your time here… it is limited, isn’t it?”

I selected YES.

“I figured. That’s how it was with RETRY too.”

A pair of cries- Combusken and Kirlia.

“It would have been fun to just play with you… I’m sorry. I don’t think you are a bad person at all!”

But it’s too late.

It’s like I don’t even exist. No one is looking back on me.

I’m a fetal thing. 

“Say… in this time we have left… Instead of wandering around on your own… Why don’t you store your story with me? Something to let the future owners of this file know about you. So that you aren’t invisible anymore. So that someone knows.”

It took me a while to decide, but I did press yes.

So now, after writing this on paper, I’ll painstakingly write it in countless screens provided by the game. Wally interjects at times, and at one point, promises that he’ll be giving future players a way to read all this, that I don’t have to worry about that at all anymore. Just trust him. Trust everyone in this game because they do care about you.

Sometimes I stop, listening for steps outside. They’ll take this in my next meal.

I’ll miss this project.

I’ll miss Wally, whatever he was.

And I’m hoping that whoever you are, you will understand the rest of this ROM as a message in a bottle, rather than a curse.

[onmymasa22]

Anxiety is carried on in genes. When a few generations ago, your ancestors were running for their lives. Their body was running at their most optimal for survival. It wasn't called anxiety, it was, waking up and trying your hardest to live. It was a nightmare of death everywhere, living on no medecine or food or comfort. Its trying to live when the world is falling apart. What happens is, the "living to the the highest capacity to survive" stays in the system. So what happems when someone feels like the world is falling apart and your body is running just to survive but everything around you is ok. You arent in danger, but your body and mind are sending signals thst youre in danger. Anxiety is when you feel like the world is falling apart and you are fighting for your life

Inwant to wear my hair in a mitpachatbwith my hair in a bun. So people can see the color but not what it looks like. With a headband type thing. Curls coming down the sides of my face, a messy bun. I want piercings. I want 4 on eaxh lobe and conches

This past year, for volunteering that was required of me, I helped teach a cooking class to older folk with mental health issues that rendered them over 40 percent disabled, everyone for a different issue including ocd, manic depression, schizophrenia, dementia, slowness, tourettes, and more. I started there because i had to, but i fell in love with it. I realized how much i love dealing with these adults. I love who i am when im around them.

I've never really gotten ginger hate... all I've had is creepy people tell me they really like redheads... and i dont really know what to do with that information... it honestly annoys me when ppl talk about it cuz it's obvious, and not really in my control. I don't go around talking about being in a room with left handed people or complimenting their left handedness, or that their earlobes have the perfect amount of attatchedness to their face. I feel like that'd be weird... i will however start doing that now...

I dont really like talking about where im from or about my hair or my name.

Having friends who geek out over sci fi or fantasy books made me think that i

Its raining which means we're in a cooking baking vibe: pita, cream cheese, sriracha mayo sauce, onion and mushroom with too much butter, tomato, sunny side up but flipped over eggs.

When i have kids, im so gonna tell them stuff that'll keep their preeschool teachers on their toes

Me: "you saw daddy go up the stairs? Yah? Do u know where he went? He went to China. But he'll be back in a few minutes."

Getting diagnosed with adhd was a blessing. Because it made it easier to address my shortcommimgs. The one that had the most affect of me was emotional dysregulation.

I need this about being a red head... yes, i know I'm a readhead. Don't call me "gingy" unless you use a french accent. Yes I know it's rare, no it's not dyed. Yes I have a soul. No I don't care that you realllly like readheads. No I don't care that that you always wanted to be one. No I don't classify you as a member if yours is dyed. Yes I know that this shirt is "my color". Yes, i tan and get freckles in the summer on my cheek and nose. Yes I know that "im an enigma".

, and yah, i know how rare it is. No its not dyed, its natural. Yes i have a soul. Yes i know you cant get this color from a bottle. Yes i know it looks cool when i wear green. No, the line "I like readheads" doesn't work on me. This has been a wonderful conversation. Have a lovely day

*all said using

Hi, it's Dalya from Michelet Emuna. I'm going to write in English because I want to make sure I fully express myself, I hope you don't mind. Two years later, I finally painted the landscape. Honestly, when you gave us this assignment I was scared. I felt like- ask me to draw an apple that I'm looking at and I'll draw it 20 times. But ask me to draw something from my mind? I had no idea how, and my imagination felt like a scary black hole. As if you were asking me to paint air. This summer, I wanted to paint what I think Gan Eden looks like, and I started with painting two trees (because every tree needs a friend, and also one for the tree of life and one for tree of knowledge) and I ended up painting this whole landscape with more ease than I expected. I'm shocked but also proud that I painted for the first time, an oil painting, entirely from imagination. I'm just so proud of myself, and I want to thank you for being such a good teacher in my process. I didn't forget the assignment, I just wasn't ready at the time yet. And I am now, and it feels incredible. Whether this is a good landscape painting is a different conversation, but I'm happy that I arrived to this point in my learning. And I just wanted to say all of this.

When a best friend says she found a new show- gilmore girls and she misses you so much, shes been watching it just to feel like she's with you... and ur like "right?! I'm such a Lorelai, it's not even funny!" If lorelai and pheobe and a golden retreiver and a plant all somehow put their genes into one being, im that being. Anyone whoI'm either drinking coffee, playing guitar, on a walk, or in the shower.

New people: So what are you like?

Me: I'm pretty much somewhere between a dog and a plant. Like if Pheobe, Lorelai, a golden retriever, and a plant somehow got together and created a human, I'd be that human. Cuz everyone around me knows- I'm either drinking coffee, playing guitar, on a walk, sitting in the sun, or in the shower. I'm not hard to figure out. Everyone knows where to find me at all times. And I like it like that.

Anyone else always have the worst timing? My timing is having tge sane bed my whole life, then two weeks before i leave the country for who knows how long, getting a new one. Buying a wine glass two days before packing up my life. Spending a month not knowing what to do for an assignment, then figuring something out and winging out. Eating a special brownie the day before flying. Buying a huge canvas two weeks before leaving. I'm a cerial bad timing, but "you only die once" person. Bad timing but i cant help myself. I read something that said "show up

What people see:

The nicest girl in the room. The girl who is yellow in a person. Who makes soup when her friends are sick, who has compassion on and empathy for everyone. Who thrives on making people happy. Who will make herself an absolute fool to make others smile. She is a goofball at times and incredibly deep. She loves hard but will understand that you need to do you. She doesn't judge. She is beautiful inside and out and she brightens every room she walks into. She is a fireball, a sparkler. She is mgic.

What people dont see:

She knows what its like to not be the favorite grandchild. To not be the favorite niece. To not be liked or loved for who she is. She knows what its like to be in so much pain that she inflics it on herself, just to feel balanced. Like her outsides match her insides. She knows what its like to be called ugly, or nasty, to be yelled at, to be embarrassed infront of a multitude of people. She knows what its like to pray for the end of it all. Ske knows what its like to sleep in the street, throwing up, at rock bottom because she has no where else to go. She knows what its like to fight her brain to live. She knows what its like to choose life.

I want to do something on the tree of life. Something about covering everything- gan eden, trees, family, and how raw and hurt it is for me. Going from not choosing life and ketamine to choosing life, being offered cocaine, amd saying no, coming home, and eating chocolate cake. Seeing the boy who died on the bus.

Anyone else buy a monster sized canvas

So at the end of this last school year, this famous israeli artist started talking to me and asked me "what changed for you between the first year of your studies to now?" I answered something like how at the beginning, everything was so new and exciting. You know, u go from corona, to living in Jerusalem, learning to draw and oil paint from a sweet master on the top floor with windows, wood paneling, and easles everywhere. I was in burn out last year. From stupid classes, teachers, and assignments, and a year that solidified my elephant skin, i was a little numb to school. But now, its summer and my answer would be- what changed is that in the first year, i produced according to assignments. I might have manipulated the assignment, but i needed the assignment to help me produce something. This past third year, the assignments hindered me. And when i look at the year, my best works came from the classes that didnt have assignments. Where no one told me, thats great but u should do this instead. I had a need to do what was in my head depending on my energy and material. And i could just go. This summer, I made the art that i wanted and needed to. And maybe thats how i know whether i can stand as an artist. Without the assignment, can i still paint and draw and make? If u can, congratz ur an artist. If not, ull pass art school, and good luck w life but maybe ur not an artist. So im flying back to israel in two weeks, and i went to good will and bought a huge canvas. And it doesn't scare me enough to debilitate me. I just decided that i want it to be an oil pastel and i need to prep it and find something that fits that. But thats what changed. I dont need an assignment anymore, and im not scared of my mind. The first year, i couldnt do anything from imagination. Ask me to draw an apple that i see i can do it twenty times. Ask me to make up a landscape in my head, and it just happens.

Now i feel like im an artist. I dont need assignments. Assignments take me away from what im supposed to be doing. And it creates burn out. I dont need someones ideas for me to produce something. I dont have a style.

עץ חיים היא למחזיקים בה וסו��כה מאושר

[tojamesandwilliam]

Morning both😊 🌄

Another long post 📫 😴. I'm at work with currently nothing to do , it's 9⁰c and so cold. 🙃 I was thinking about telling you a little bit about our early days together and what kind of bonds we had.

James I'll start with you because you are my first born. From the day you where born you never left my side , you where the best friend I never had , you weren't just my son you where and still are my whole world. We did everything together and you went everywhere I did. We met some friends on the way but they got lost when you went into the system with your brother William. But that's OK. We did messy play every friday morning at 10am we loved it , we played in the sand pit , had fun in the ball pit and made so much mess with paints and glitter it was beautiful!. After it finished we either went to the shop to get lunch and a Thomas the tank engine magazine or we went on a bus ride and went to see your nan juzzzy and your great grandma , they didn't live far. Then we'd have visits to the big park and watched the tennis players. You played in the grass and it was so warm. We got ice cream in the cafe and went home to play. You had two guinea pigs lacey and bumble we used to clean them out together and make them fresh bedding , you got the hay everywhere!. The most memorable thing was when I fell pregnant with your brother William , you didn't really understand it well until I gave birth to him and bought him home , you where amazing to him , I included you where ever I could , you helped hold the bottle to feed him. Gave him lots of kisses , came over when he was upset , you are the best big brother anyone could have james and I'm proud to call you my son .

William gorgeous this is for you and yes that is your nickname too!.

Our time together was cut really short baby. Because of everything that happened we don't have many memories at all , but the few we have are just as precious. You where also my best friend aswell as my son , you came and did everything with me & your big brother James. We went through alot , when you where born you had jaundice that required phototherapy , it was so upsetting for me , but it was just me and you and I always loved to talk to you about how much I loved you both and how lucky iam to have had the opportunity to carry such beautiful children. I did a mini photo shoot of you in the hospital and you had a sweet little egg sleepsuit on I loved it. Your first Christmas with us was lovely, it was just me , you and James we gathered around the tree together and placed the ornaments on the tree , you loved seeing the lights go on. James enjoyed himself too!.

You had such a sweet little laugh and it made so many people smile. All 3 of us ended up in a safe house just before I handed you over , it was far away and the nearest supermarket was 10 minutes away , we had a massive snow fall on our way home from the shops and I really struggled to push the Pushchair through it all , it was such a laugh. James was throwing his blanket everywhere, it was crazy , we did easter shopping there you got new outfits and tons of eggs!. The rest was all a bad memory for us all.

I tried I really did , but in the end I was kidding myself to think I could be enough for you . You both deserved a big family , stability and most importantly someone who wasn't so broken they couldn't even look after themselves , although the memories are lovely , it was bittersweet , being your mummy to you both was the best time I've ever had in my life , bringing you into this world, carrying you for 9 months worth every single second. I'd do it again in another life time , I just wished I waited for you further on in life found the peace and happiness I have now. High insight is a beautiful thing.

Lots of love ❤️

[shadowsshowdown]

Deus Ex: Human Revolution Shadow’s Showdown 36

The Broken Ones.

Detroit. Laura's apartment.

Connor didn't want to stay the night and although it was hard for him to leave Laura alone he had to go. Unfortunately, he had a tremendous amount of responsibilities at the company that needed to be done before the new year. He was tired and should get at least a few hours of sleep. He also didn't want to tell the hacker about how difficult it was for both him and Adam to defend her from Pritchard's wrath. The situation had long since gotten out of hand anyway. As soon as the man left, the hacker started looking for airline connections to Sweden. She hoped that no one would find her there, if anyone would look for her at all. For a brief moment she allowed herself to be charmed by a thought that maybe she meant something, that she was part of some whole, but she quickly realized that she got dumped. The world was still spinning and she was stuck. She felt like an animal thrown into a tar pit. Day after day she sank further and further, and no one really cared, except maybe Connor.

She was happy to find that in just a few hours she would be sitting aboard a plane. Fortunately, she'd gotten a paycheck, which she spent on the trip and at least a week's stay in Uppsala. What would happen after that? Somehow she cared little about that. Laura immediately started packing her things. She planned to take Stalker with her. It shouldn't be a problem, after all he had all his vaccinations and tests up to date. The woman could not fall asleep, she kept seeing Adam's face. It was everywhere. On the ceiling, reflected in the window, she could see it on her pillow. She was tormented by his scent, felt the look of his gray-blue eyes on her and his fingertips gently teasing her skin with every touch. The smile twitching at the corner of his mouth like a drop of water on a spider's web, the hot breath on the nape of her neck and that wonderful taste of his lips as he unhurriedly kissed her. She must forget every one of those little things. To abandon everything she's managed to build. Adam Jensen, ex-SWAT, Security Chief at Sarif Industries, Grumpy Cerberus is a thing of the past.

A little after eight in the morning she was already sitting in the cab that took her to the airport. Images scrolled past outside the glass window like frames of a movie. She met Adam there and he helped her carry the groceries. This is where she walked with Connor. To The Jack Daw she walked to eat lunch with Faridah. There in the distance is the Camarilla club. Rupert sitting in the Crann Tara. Screaming Francis, even he evoked sadness. By nine o'clock she was already aboard the plane. Stalker meowed loudly to express his displeasure at being separated from his sitter, but there was no other choice. The seat next to her was taken by a businessman with a complexion orange from self-tanner and carelessly combed hair of the color of scrambled eggs. He was terribly unpleasant to the staff, but the stewardess had to smile at him. She had about twelve hours of flight ahead of her with a connecting flight in Paris. At a time like this, she missed VTOL terribly.

Sarif Industries. Connor's office.

The man sat behind a desk with piles of papers towering on its top. He was busy correcting mistakes that others had made. Now he understood Laura, who went through this every day. Since she had disappeared he had taken over her duties and had to deal with Francis' whining, which was now worse than usual. He could feel and see the preparations for the great ball at every turn. His friends were constantly talking about what outfits they would wear and who they would go with. Connor at first wanted to invite a girl he met in Washington, but she preferred to go with Simon, who goes to the gym every spare moment. Yes, he could envy his muscles but not his brain. He would have loved to go with Laura and was going to tell her so. When he had dealt with fixing half of major mistakes, it was almost lunchtime, so he saved everything he had done so far and turned off the computer.

As he walked down the hallway he heard more and more excited voices talking about Washington and invariably about ball. Connor sighed loudly as he saw Adam coming from across the hall. They both stopped exactly at Laura's office door noticing that it was apparently locked.

"You spent the night with her you should know where she is," the Security Chief muttered ominously, intertwining his arms across his chest.

Connor noticed the extreme hostility not only in his voice but also in his posture. He was almost certain that if they were in some side alley right now he would be facing an outburst of aggression from the ex-SWAT.

"You're wrong, Jensen. I don't jump into women's beds. If you want to know I left her at night even though she insisted I should stay. As usual, you see what you want to see instead of the truth."

Adam rubbed the bridge of his nose in thought. His comment was inappropriate, unprofessional. The fact that he was no longer in control of himself frightened him.

"Forgive me, I shouldn't comment on matters that don't concern me," he replied, trying to correct the error. "I came because Laura usually solved my problems without Pritchard's involvement, but I see she's still not at work." "Unfortunately," the man shook his head with resignation. "I thought she'd show up today, though." Connor didn't tell him that the hacker was in a pretty good mood when they were left alone. "I called her but I keep hearing that the number is temporarily unavailable. She must have left somewhere just don't know where," he lied because as soon as he found that Laura had left, he immediately became certain where. "So unfortunately I’m the only person that can help you. Shall we go to my office?" he asked, emphasizing the invitation with a hand gesture.

Jensen found with horror that he was beginning to like Connor despite the fact that they were competing for the same woman. He could not deny his self-control and great skill, yet he knew as much about him as he had about Laura when they first met. His personal file was very sparse and contained only basic information.

The Chief of Security did not refuse a cup of coffee when Connor made a polite suggestion. They sat in front of the monitor discussing a few more issues related to Megan's speech and security matters at the ball. Connor sensed the sadness in Adam's voice despite his efforts to hide it. After talking for over half an hour, they said their goodbyes in a slightly less chilly manner than usual.

For the next quarter of an hour Connor rhythmically pushed his back against the back of the armchair while sitting. Under his nose lay a horizontally placed red company pen held by a raised upper lip. His thoughts circled around Laura like a flock of vultures. In fact, he had lied to Jensen when they were sitting in the hacker's apartment. He could have found her without much effort but he didn't want to. Not because the ex-SWAT was his competitor, in fact he hadn't expected such immature behavior and impulsiveness from Adam. Laura needed silence and calmness so that was the reason for his lie. Their confrontation always ended badly as he had observed. It was possible that they shouldn't be together. Now she had run away again and he was going to find out the reason without letting anyone in on it.

The Jack Daw.

Adam decided he had to act, somehow convince Laura to come back. He knew that if she disappeared then Uppsala was the obvious place to go, and Faridah was his only hope of getting there. So he sat at his table drumming his fingers nervously on the table top. A bowl of already cold soup stood in front of him. He had the impression that he was suffocating. The smell of the herbs seemed to be extremely intense, and that made the memories even more vivid. Today, even this silly game of shooting at him with cereal stuck in a straw was amusing. He could bear it very patiently and with a smile if only Laura were here. He pulled the sleeve of his brown sweater off his wrist with the index finger of his right hand, glancing at his watch. Malik was never late. The wait was driving him crazy.

"Hey Adam. Sorry I'm late, but everyone's been crazy with the flying lately," she tried to explain. "Faridah this Malik that. Fly here bring that..." She broke off wrinkling her brows. The grim expression on the Security Chief's face worried her. He looked like he had gained at least a dozen years. "What’s going on? I see it's something serious," she encouraged sitting down across from him. "Laura is gone," he said quietly at which the woman visibly twitched. "Because she's stupid," growled Malik. Jensen shook his head. "She's monstrously lost, just like I am now. It was like old times in Washington for a while, but then she backed off again. She wants to protect me, I know that, and that's why I have to do something." "I don't share your commitment however it is your decision. I just don't know what I can do." "She definitely flew to Uppsala. It's the only place where she feels safe, yet she's aware that I can find her there. I feel that this may be a sign. Maybe... I don't know..." "You're getting your hopes up too high," she sighed. "Unfortunately, despite my great and sincere wishes, I cannot take you to Uppsala. When I look at the flight schedule it makes me sick. I'm flying to DC in less than an hour then back and another flight. I'm sorry, I really am." "I understand," he replied shortly, though it wasn't what he expected to hear. "The end of the year was always hard, and now it's even worse. Even I have a monstrous amount of things on my mind."

The Chief Pilot wanted to reply, but was interrupted by the phone ringing. "Malik, I'm listening. Yes. Of course boss, I'm on my way," she said ending the call. "You see for yourself, I have to go. Stay safe!" the woman stopped in half step. "I can ask any of my subordinates if they have a gap in their schedule."

"I'd rather keep strangers out of this."

Faridah nodded and went. Adam tried to force himself to eat the cold soup, but gave up. Even more depressed than before, he paid for his lunch and returned to the company.

Sarif Industries Headquarters.

The rest of the day was no better. Jensen again did not manage to separate his bad mood from his work, and several of his subordinates were reprimanded as a result. Yes, they had made some big mistakes, but they had always managed to explain everything without resorting to final solutions. Adam's rage grew whenever he reminded himself that there was no way he could be in Sweden today. The usual flight would take too long, and besides, he would not get any time off now. It was after five o'clock when he closed the office and left the company. Returning home did not satisfy him at all, so he decided to visit Crann Tara. He silently hoped that he would meet Rupert and apologize to him for ruining Christmas. His hope was soon extinguished as soon as he descended the stairs with a glass of whisky and his coat thrown over his arm. The Scot didn't come, and the reason was all too obvious to Jensen. He was about to sit down in his usual place by the stairs when he noticed Connor sitting a few tables away. The man did not notice him and Adam preferred it to stay that way. In half an hour he had read several dozen pages of a book about Wallander, but he did not really remember what happened in it. He put the reading down on the table and rubbed his temples. The glass of whisky remained untouched. Connor noticed Adam right away, but hoping for luck he pretended otherwise. He needed time to make a decision that could prove fatal if he played his cards wrong.

Sweden, Gamla Uppsala.

It was late evening in Sweden, but Laura could see perfectly like a cat even in the dark. The reception was already closed, but the notice on the door said that in case of emergency you could call so after about a quarter of an hour the light on the first floor came on and the same woman who had rented the cottage on their previous visit let her in. She was also kind enough to rent her the same two-bedroom building for the price of a single. On the way Laura did some shopping and went to eat in Valhalla. Sipping hot tea she found that even Pritchard had stopped pestering her with phone calls. The loneliness was slowly starting to bother her, but most of all the lack of Faridah. She could always straighten out her twisted thinking and give good advice. Their first meeting was not very friendly, but with time everything changed. She finished her herring sandwich and went to pay, leaving soon after. She still could not understand why she had chosen Uppsala and not, for example, Berlin.

The woman stopped in front of the entrance to the cottage. Everything seemed to be as it was then. She is about to open the door and hear Faridah's indignant voice. She would cross the hall and look into the far corner of the living room where Adam would be reading Wallander while pretending he hadn't eaten a kanellbule at all. Although the interior had been cleaned up after the last guests, she still felt like she could smell the scents in the air that accompanied their last stay. She occupied Adam's room and it wasn't a matter of chance or being drunk, just deliberate action. Immediately after unpacking her things, she took the phone for not-so-legal activities and turned it on. The screen briefly flashed a blue light before going black again. She had made the decision she felt was best and right. She preferred to sacrifice herself instead of Adam, Joe, Connor or Faridah. Kratos would find her here, of that she could be sure. She even decided to make it easy for him. Laura tapped on the surface, and when the touchscreen keyboard appeared, she typed two words:

"Knock, knock." "Who is there?" the phone answered. "Crunchy_Sh4d0w." "Welcome home."

Columns of random characters in various shades of blue ran down the screen. There were letters of the alphabet written in different languages and numbers.

"HAL 9000, send a message to @Peter_Englert. Content: Fresh Pizza is waiting to be picked up. When you are done shutdown," she said.

The phone screen flickered on and off. Laura hoped Kratos was still using the account. If not, she would have to wait a little longer. When she opened the drawer of the nightstand placed next to the bed she noticed a slightly crumpled Golden Icarus cigarette box, and the last cigarette in it. Her hands suddenly began to tremble. She remembered her answer to Adam’s question.

"I know it's silly, but I imagine we exchange a kiss then, and there is nothing more wonderful in this world than the touch of your lips."

Longing enveloped her in the cold chill of the bedding, she felt like it was dripping from the ceiling onto her face and running down her cheeks in salty drops.

Detroit, Crann Tara.

Connor thought things over a few times concluding that even if they had no sympathy for each other, he should help Adam and share what he knew. So he decided to make the first move on the chessboard. The man stood up, grabbed his half-full mug of beer and the black down jacket thrown over the back of his chair, and moved toward Adam, who was stubbornly trying to read.

"Mind if I sit down?" he asked, though he knew the answer anyway, but at least Jensen would get a snap on his nose. "There are plenty of free tables," the Security Chief muttered, turning a page in the book. "I need this particular one," he insisted. "You care about Laura as much as I do."

Only now did Adam's gaze travel up along Connor's grey and black jacket stopping at his serious face. After a moment's consideration he nodded permissively to him. The hacker set down his pint, placed his jacket on a nearby chair and sat down across from him. "I managed to trace Laura's phone, she's now…"

"In Gamla Uppsala," Jensen finished in a dispassionate tone. "I knew that all along." "And you're sitting here instead aboard a plane?" he couldn't help but stick a pin in him. "Listen to me carefully," the ex-SWAT's tone turned unpleasantly husky. "If you came here just to mock me then you better get out of here." "Sorry, that was stupid," the hacker admitted. "Faridah won't be able to fly and Sarif won't give me time off now so a nearly twelve hour flight is out of the question," he explained. "My pilot is free, he can fly whenever you want, but hear me out first," he asked completely calmly. "Sure, I can do that much for you," Adam muttered, sipping his whisky. "I don't know what has put you two so far apart, and in fact I don't want to know, but if Laura is avoiding you then think what will happen when she sees you. Assess your real chances of success on this trip. That's all."

Jensen rubbed his temple then his chin, trying to analyze his words rationally. So far, only anger and the desire to compete had spoken through him. Maybe he should get over it? Maybe what he sees is just a figment of his imagination?

"We haven't really had much time to explain anything. Uppsala is a special place and most of all it's peaceful," it was only when he finished speaking that he realized he had just revealed too much. "So you've been there before," Connor remarked but got no response. "Well in that case I'll call my pilot right away and find out everything," he continued, reaching for his phone in his inside jacket pocket. "Wait," he stopped him with a word and a gesture of an open hand extended toward him. "First, tell me what you want to do." "Let me start by saying I really want to help you. I'm not interested in any personal gain. If you are able to trust me then I will fly to Sweden and bring Laura back to Detroit, or at least try to. What you do next and how you do it is of no interest to me." "What are you better than me at?" asked the ex-SWAT lighting a cigarette. "I can use the right arguments too." "In one simple thing. Laura doesn't want to see you and will run away again."

Those were painful words, but very true. Currently, he was the last person she would want to see, much less talk to. He could look for arguments, try to deny it, but Connor was right. If anyone could convince Laura to come back, it was him. Connor could feel the fierce battle going on in Adam's mind right now and he felt sorry for him. He'd never been in a relationship with a woman. He hadn't had the time or circumstances to do so, but he couldn't believe it was so hard for two people to communicate. Especially since things had been very different before.

"I know you care about her. I can see that," he said quietly. "Don't try to be my friend," growled the Security Chief. "Fine, then forget about this conversation," replied the hacker reaching for his jacket. "Wait," stopped him in mid-motion. "All I want right now is for Laura to come back. She'll be safe here." "Safe? What do you mean by that? Is she in danger of something?" he inquired. "I just want to keep an eye on her." "Adam, please, we're adults so don't play cat and mouse with me," he insisted. "Suppose your guess is right then I won't divulge her personal affairs anyway. If she wants to, she'll tell you herself what it's all about. "You're right, it’s not my concern. And if you say too much Laura would lose confidence in you.”

All that could be heard in the falling silence were the sounds of conversation coming from upstairs and the ringing of glass. Adam wondered what to do. On the one hand, Connor was his only solution, on the other he had concerns that he might be lying to him.

"Deal," the Security Chief finally said. "He's your pilot anyway, so my opinion doesn't really matter." "Yes, it does. If you hadn't allowed reason to prevail right now you'd be sitting aboard a VTOL and probably still be back today," he stated firmly. "I should go now. Before the travel, I have to inform Pritchard that I will be working remotely which won't be so easy. Anyway, you know yourself. I'll call the pilot right away," he explained getting up from his seat and dressing his jacket. "Will you at least let me know when you're there?" asked Jensen with a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Of course. If I can't call, I'll send a message. You'll know everything." "Thank you," he said sincerely, though that was also what decency demanded. No matter what his intentions were, he was willing and able to do anything. "You'll thank me when Laura is in Detroit," he replied, nodded goodbye to Adam, and left.

Connor's apartment.

A quarter of an hour later, he entered the cozy but small apartment that was in perfect order. Connor took off his shoes and put them against the wall in a perfectly learned move half an inch apart. He then carefully hung his jacket on a hanger, which he tucked into the closet. He did the same with the jacket earlier pulling out his phone. Finally, he slipped fluffy slippers depicting the heads of St. Bernard dogs onto his feet and walked to the living room across the graphite-colored carpet. Before taking a seat on the simple blue sofa, he put the phone down on the glass top of the coffee table and turned right into the bathroom. While washing his hands, he made each motion exactly twenty-eight times. Only when he was absolutely sure they were clean did he go to the kitchenette, where he poured himself a glass of orange juice and finally took a seat on the sofa. Before reaching for his phone he looked at the clock set on the opposite cabinet right next to the flat fifty-five-inch television. He figured it wasn't too late, so he dialed Markus Manfred's number.

"Hey, it's me, Connor," he began in a cheerful tone, not at all in keeping with his pedantic nature. "Listen, I have an urgent matter to attend to and I need a pilot." "Where are we going? I need to see if I can make it. You know how things are at the company now," he said with a heavy sigh. "I know it all too well, but maybe a flight to Gamla Uppsala will cheer you up a bit?" "Gamla Uppsala," he repeated. "Sweden, if I'm not mistaken. Short days and probably snow. I like it," he admitted and fell silent for a moment. "I'm not free until after fifteen tomorrow. I have a few other flights before then. I've switched with Malik to give her at least some relief." "Sure, I understand. It's even a good thing because I have a conversation with Pritchard ahead of me," Connor sighed. "Then I' don’t envy you. Laura got under his skin with that sudden disappearance, but good for him. It's just too bad it's the others who get hurt. Okay, I gotta go because North's about to kill me with her gaze." "Greet her from me. See you tomorrow."

After the conversation had been over, Connor took a shower and dressed in grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt with RK800 written on it and # 687 899 150 underneath and marched straight to his bedroom.

All  chapters can be found: [AO3], [dA], [Wattpad] and [Tumblr]

[nursective]

there   is   fear   that   hangs   in   her   heart   as   she   exits   the   grocery   store   ,   the   anxiety   of   being   in   an   area   unknown   , speaking   a   language   she   almost   knows   nothing   of   making   her   heart   race.   everything   is   so   new   to   her   ,   but   she's   doing   her   best   to   trek   on. after   all   ,   she   did   tell   harlan   that   one   day   she   would   go   out   &   travel   ,   &   see   places   she's   never   been   to   before.   harlan   .   .   .   a   moment   of   sadness   passes   over   the   nurse   as   she   remembers   her   dear   ,   old   friend   ,   still   having   a   hard   time   imagining   that   he's   now   gone.   they've   had   many   conversations   talking   about   their   dreams   &   aspirations   ,   revealing   secrets to each other   that   no   one   else   has   ever   heard   ,   one   of   them   being   marta's   fear   of   travel   ,   as   well   as   her   inexperience   with   it.   harlan   thrombey   had   been   everywhere   around   the   world   &   insisted   that   she   go   out   &   explore   it   for   herself.   you're   young   .   .   .   you   need   to   open   your   horizons   ,   he   told   her   one   evening   &   even   though   this   trip   has   been   a   bit   of   a   struggle   ,   she's   doing   it   both   for   herself   &   for   the   sake   of   an   old   friend.

harlan   had   once   created   a   list   for her of   places   he   suggest   she   visit   one   day   &   this   little   town   was   one   of   them.   staying   in   a   small   cottage   not   too   far   away   ,   marta   carries   a   brown   paper   bag   filled   with   fresh   groceries   ,   the   smell   of   the   earthy   food   a   stark   difference   from   the   fresh   veggies   she's   usually bought   back   home.   in   her   pondering   over   her   old   friend   ,   she   didn't   notice   the   growing   tear   at   the   bottom   of   her   bag   ,   so   when   she   shuffles   the   groceries   around   in   her   arms to get more comfortable   ,   the   bag   tears   open   &   all   the   contents   spill   out   ,   potatoes   rolling   down   the   street   ,   eggs   breaking   ━━   a   disaster.   ❝ shit   ,   ❞   she   utters   softly   ,   rushing   to   grab   everything   before   making   an   even   bigger   mess   than   she   had.   luckily   for   the   nurse   ,   a   blonde   woman   sees   her   distress   &   helps   her   grab   the   items   she   had   spilled   ,   bringing   them   back   to   her   after   a   few   minutes   of   rushing   ,   her   smile   &   kind   eyes   the   first   real   kind   welcome   she's   gotten   since   she   arrived   in   this   town.

❝   we   make   a   pretty   good   team.   ❞

marta's   casts   down   her   gaze   for   a   moment   ,   embarrassed   that   she   allowed   something   so   silly   to   happen   to   her.   still   ,   she's   thankful   that   this   woman   was   kind   enough   to   help   her   &   she   knows   better   than   to   not   say   anything   in   appreciation.      ❝   you   saved   me   from   making   a   bigger   fool   of   myself.   ❞   she's   still   crouched   down   as   she   picks   up   the   last   of   her   food   ,   struggling   to   cradle   everything   in   her   arms.   ❝   thank   you   for   your   help.   i   would   have   been   lost   if   you   didn't   come   in   &   rescue   me.   ❞

THE   DUSTY   TOY   BOX.   featuring   @rosenvale   as   august   sirin.