#narnia short story

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Impossibility

It came in the afternoon, when I was alone and resting on the sofa. The air was completely silent, save for it.

The knocks on the door were rhythmic, itching my brain like a nigh-forgotten song. They were soft, like whispers, only noticeable from the utter lack of other sounds. They were weird, unnerving, like something had reached across the boundary between worlds to reach me. 

I stealthily got up from my chair, peeking through the peephole. Nobody there. Unsurprising, really. The logical part of me insisted it was a practical joke, and I listened. The alternative, the idea that this was a call from across the veil, was inconceivable.

No, it was very conceivable. It was, however, utterly unbelievable. I'd spent my whole life, all seventeen years of it, waiting for a call to adventure. I'd yearned to see something utterly extraordinary, to step through a doorway and end up in another world, for someone to drop from the sky and tell me I was the chosen one. I'd hoped and prayed, and when nothing came, I'd accepted my fate. I was too old to go hunting for fairies, too mature to hope to step through the closet to Narnia, too rational to believe in magic.

And yet here I was, heart thumping, hoping against hope that I was wrong, that I would open the door and something ethereal would be standing on the opposite side of the door. I stepped away from the door, not wanting to break my heart again.

Then it came. More knocking, steady and paced. What the hell? I had to know, I really did.

So I opened the door. And lo and behold, there really was someone on the other side, despite what the peephole showed. A man, his face unwrinkled save for deep crow's nests around his eyes, stood on the other side, wearing a peculiar grin.

He watched me with bright, overly curious yellow eyes. His hair was snow white, falling to his shoulders in waves, and he wore a red leather vest decorated with strange symbols. There was something unnatural about him—something unsettling, mixed in with the ruggedness. A tingle ran up my spine as I looked at him. My call had come, it appeared, two years too late. “Hello, Amber,” he said.

I nodded. “Hello,” I replied cautiously. Stranger danger, the rational bit of me insisted, desperately spinning to rationalise the ridiculous circumstances that led to this. “Who might you be?” And how did he know my name, for that matter?

He tittered at that, a polite laugh that belonged more on a feudal lady than a man like him. “I have many names, but you might call me Hama. Hama of a Thousand Suns,” he told me. “I am a traveller, and I need your help. Well, I suppose it would be more accurate to say a universe needs your help.”

My heart skipped a beat. My call! My precious, glorious call! It was time to go on an adventure, to journey the worlds and- No, that was ridiculous, I told myself sternly. He was a conman at best and a psycho at worst. I slammed the door shut on him wordlessly, praying the great noise would drown out the screaming of my inner child.

My call, I thought mournfully. My call that I'd known would never come. My call that I turned my back on. Numbly, I walked back to my sofa. It wouldn't do to talk to strange men who showed up randomly at my house and tried to get me to save the world. Even if I desperately wanted to save the world.

“Why don't you, then? Think about it, Amber. What have you got to lose?” I looked up. Hama leaned against my cabinet, the one I used to keep all my little curiosities. He toyed with an oddly shaped marble. “Isn't this what you've been searching for all your life? The one thing that will fill the void in your heart?”

I closed my eyes. My desperately searching logic caught an excuse. Hallucinations. I was hallucinating. It was sleep deprivation, or schizophrenia, or… Carbon monoxide! I needed to check the carbon monoxide detectors. 

Hama sighed. “So you'll ignore me, then,” he murmured. He caught my arm, placing the marble in my open palm. “Look at me, Amber. Do I look unreal to you? There are people out there who need your help- Will you aid them?”

I couldn't help myself. I started crying like a psychotic little child. “Stop it,” I whispered. “This is a dream. I'll wake up and know it was never real, and I'll spend the rest of my life wishing it was.”

“Who cares what's real or not? In the end, the emotions are all the same. I ask you this simple question: Do you want to go on an adventure?” Hama's striking eyes met my blurry, tear-filled ones. 

“Yes,” I said. What else could I say? His lips curled into a grin.

“You're the one then,” he crowed. “At last, I've found a pawn! Take that, Lady of the Night!”

And then I woke up. Instantly, I felt a scream well up. I clenched it down, biting my lips until I tasted the explosion of copper.

Again. I kept having that dream. Over and over and over. My brain loved dangling that impossibility in front of me, so enticingly close and yet so impossibly far away. It would never happen, I knew.

Yet- My fingers were wrapped around that deformed marble.

[raccoonscribbles]

”Isn't it beautiful?" Peter gestured to the view below, "Your own window. See, when you're good you get treats.”

Y/n hated it, she was just going to see what she wanted, not that she would ever get it.

“So? What do you think?” He hugged her from behind, grinning, “You do like it, don’t you?”

“I can get it removed, pick something else, love, what would you like?” Peter grinned.

“No, it’s lovely! It’s just, quite bright.. can you get curtains..?”

“Sure, you want them f/c like your bed?” He asked, she nodded.

“I love you, princess, my soon to be queen.”

[leos-regression-cove]

I think it says a lot about me as a person now that that the easiest way to make me cry as a child (and still now. I didn't think I'd tear up while writing this lmao) was to imply that the majesties and wonders of childhood and imagination are all a dream that inevitably leaves us as we get older that we can only regain in death and that the vivid inner worlds and personalities we give our toys in our early years either feel abandoned, vengeful, or die entirely as we age.

[wanderer-indian-poet]

Lavishing green bed under endless blue sky

Crystal sprinkles reflects

a splendid portrait to a poets eye

A halt to my incessant journey

Stayed there till the dewdrops

Absorbed into my skin

Golden rays scattered

Like its for the very first time

Awestruck by its beauty

All my romanticism comes alive

My lover and me are intertwined

In imperishable bond

Playing with trolls

Dancing along the fauns

So I play along the fantasy

Till a quick switch to our reality

My charm slipped through my hands

The clock hits it's time

The landscape begins to fade away

Sun sinking down near the lake

What a bland goodbye

My disheartened sighs

So Kneel down on the ground

Praying to gods of fate

To undo the prophecy

He said I played my part

Now its time to back where I come from

To the busy streets and designed dreams

Crowed bodies with hollow bodies

Years passed no sign of lunar valley

Is it just a mythical dream?

Folk passes snickering and whispering

A women and her silly musings

Is she on a treasure hunt

With no map only her lucid dreams?

I learnt silence is the best reply to clogged minds

To live in box with no window

Only Blue light screen

My longing stays unspoken

So the professor says

Paint with the brightness colors

And draw your landscapes

My wildest fantasy

My solace dream

[mountkennedie]

Masterlist #2

Personal Favorites: ☆

*Readers appearance isn't mentioned unless I say otherwise*

No fandom short stories:

Veil of Mortality ☆☆

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker:

Twists ☆

Anakin Autumn Series:

Evening Stroll ☆☆☆

Carvings ☆

The Hobbit

The entire company:

Forklift Certification

Would you love me if I was a worm?

Kili:

Kili Headcanons

Hair

Fireflies

This Is About You

Lord of the Rings

The Fellowship:

Do they like candy corn?

Elrond:

Rivendell Headcanons

Sleeping In

Faramir:

Don't Hesitate

Faramir yapping

Twilight

Edward Cullen:

Late nights ☆

Premier Cullen Tastes

Marvel

Loki:

Plants ☆

Remember You

The Chronicles of Narnia

Prince Capsian:

Siren ☆

Slide 'Neath the Waves

Maleficent

Diaval:

Mint and Maple

Trees and Flowers

[weepingfoxfury]

My smallest dog insisted we needed to go in the 'big shed' last night ... the rain was lashing down with Storm Cieran's approach ... a few fireworks went off amidst the downpour ... 'what shall we look at?' I enquired ... 'the best stuff is under the wardrobe' replied my smallest dog ... 'I am too big to get under' I replied ... my smallest dog shrugged her shoulders before vanishing from view ... her muffled voice suggested someone from within the wardrobe was talking about Narnia ... but I also heard her laughing ...

[adarkrainbow]

The link above will lead you to a short story known as "England under the White Witch", by Theodora Goss.

It is a quite interesting short story, published in Clarkesworld Magazine (if you do not know about it, it is an annual online anthology magazine in which science-fiction and fantasy short stories are posted). There are fairy tale motifs, even though it is not an actual fairytale rewriting - but there are fairytale mentions at the beginning and end. The story itself is inspired by a very famous piece of "fairytale fantasy" - C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia. It depicts a fictional version of England which, after World War II, finds itself under the rule of a mysterious Empress with magic of coldness and snow - clearly inspired by Lewis' White Witch.

It is truly a nice little read, if you ever want to take a look.

[strewbi]

I love big primordial death god characters that appears to young girl characters as giant wild animals who are lethal and kind.

[prosegalaxy]

In the land of Narnia, where magic hides in plain sight, a humble shepherd named Arlan stumbled upon an ancient tome. As he turned its pages, he felt a surge of power course through his veins. He had discovered the long-lost ability to control the winds. With this newfound gift, Arlan joined the battle against the dark forces threatening Narnia. The winds became his weapon, a gale-force ally in the eternal struggle between good and evil. As he fought alongside heroes and legends, Arlan realized that even the most ordinary person can possess extraordinary power. This is the summary of your work so far:

[jandkwriting]

So my preorders are super low. If you have KU, please consider preordering. It’s free for you! Flip through some pages when it releases Friday. Maybe you’ll even like the cozy winter fantasy short story. 🥰 https://www.amazon.com/Ladys-Crownbearer-Fantasy-Adventure-Etherea-ebook/dp/B0CLKY9SLF

It’s like Christmas and May Day fused together in this cozy fantasy adventure short story.

As the finishing winds blow and the weather turns colder, Kilahym the bard arrives at his hometown to perform for the Day of Laphrim celebration. His friend and peer, Ansgar, is there to make sure everything goes according to plan—but Ansgar has a nose for trouble.

Amidst the scent of honeyed nuts and revelers weaving ribbons around a tree, a plot is afoot. When Kilahym’s performance doesn’t go as planned, Ansgar seizes the moment and leads him in pursuit of a legendary creature.

Will they find something magical in the forest, or will something find them instead?

Step into the world of Etherea in a winter holiday short story set before the events of the novel Trials of the Innermost. Readers of the Etherea Cycle will see the character Kilahym before he was chosen for the Trials, and the loveable rogue Ansgar.

This fantasy adventure is packed with sass, charm, and magic. If you enjoy cozy fantasy in things such as Legends and Lattes, and the winter holiday vibes in The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe then this story is for you!

[aethersea]

another thing fantasy writers should keep track of is how much of their worldbuilding is aesthetic-based. it's not unlike the sci-fi hardness scale, which measures how closely a story holds to known, real principles of science. The Martian is extremely hard sci-fi, with nearly every detail being grounded in realistic fact as we know it; Star Trek is extremely soft sci-fi, with a vaguely plausible "space travel and no resource scarcity" premise used as a foundation for the wildest ideas the writers' room could come up with. and much as Star Trek fuckin rules, there's nothing wrong with aesthetic-based fantasy worldbuilding!

(sidenote we're not calling this 'soft fantasy' bc there's already a hard/soft divide in fantasy: hard magic follows consistent rules, like "earthbenders can always and only bend earth", and soft magic follows vague rules that often just ~feel right~, like the Force. this frankly kinda maps, but I'm not talking about just the magic, I'm talking about the worldbuilding as a whole.

actually for the purposes of this post we're calling it grounded vs airy fantasy, bc that's succinct and sounds cool.)

a great example of grounded fantasy is Dungeon Meshi: the dungeon ecosystem is meticulously thought out, the plot is driven by the very realistic need to eat well while adventuring, the story touches on both social and psychological effects of the whole 'no one dies forever down here' situation, the list goes on. the worldbuilding wants to be engaged with on a mechanical level and it rewards that engagement.

deliberately airy fantasy is less common, because in a funny way it's much harder to do. people tend to like explanations. it takes skill to pull off "the world is this way because I said so." Narnia manages: these kids fall into a magic world through the back of a wardrobe, befriend talking beavers who drink tea, get weapons from Santa Claus, dance with Bacchus and his maenads, and sail to the edge of the world, without ever breaking suspension of disbelief. it works because every new thing that happens fits the vibes. it's all just vibes! engaging with the worldbuilding on a mechanical level wouldn't just be futile, it'd be missing the point entirely.

the reason I started off calling this aesthetic-based is that an airy story will usually lean hard on an existing aesthetic, ideally one that's widely known by the target audience. Lewis was drawing on fables, fairy tales, myths, children's stories, and the vague idea of ~medieval europe~ that is to this day our most generic fantasy setting. when a prince falls in love with a fallen star, when there are giants who welcome lost children warmly and fatten them up for the feast, it all fits because these are things we'd expect to find in this story. none of this jars against what we've already seen.

and the point of it is to be wondrous and whimsical, to set the tone for the story Lewis wants to tell. and it does a great job! the airy worldbuilding serves the purposes of the story, and it's no less elegant than Ryōko Kui's elaborately grounded dungeon. neither kind of worldbuilding is better than the other.

however.

you do have to know which one you're doing.

the whole reason I'm writing this is that I saw yet another long, entertaining post dragging GRRM for absolute filth. asoiaf is a fun one because on some axes it's pretty grounded (political fuck-around-and-find-out, rumors spread farther than fact, fastest way to lose a war is to let your people starve, etc), but on others it's entirely airy (some people have magic Just Cause, the various peoples are each based on an aesthetic/stereotype/cliché with no real thought to how they influence each other as neighbors, the super-long seasons have no effect on ecology, etc).

and again! none of this is actually bad! (well ok some of those stereotypes are quite bigoted. but other than that this isn't bad.) there's nothing wrong with the season thing being there to highlight how the nobles are focused on short-sighted wars for power instead of storing up resources for the extremely dangerous and inevitable winter, that's a nice allegory, and the looming threat of many harsh years set the narrative tone. and you can always mix and match airy and grounded worldbuilding – everyone does it, frankly it's a necessity, because sooner or later the answer to every worldbuilding question is "because the author wanted it to be that way." the only completely grounded writing is nonfiction.

the problem is when you pretend that your entirely airy worldbuilding is actually super duper grounded. like, for instance, claiming that your vibes-based depiction of Medieval Europe (Gritty Edition) is completely historical, and then never even showing anyone spinning. or sniffing dismissively at Tolkien for not detailing Aragorn's tax policy, and then never addressing how a pre-industrial grain-based agricultural society is going years without harvesting any crops. (stored grain goes bad! you can't even mouse-proof your silos, how are you going to deal with mold?) and the list goes on.

the man went up on national television and invited us to engage with his worldbuilding mechanically, and then if you actually do that, it shatters like spun sugar under the pressure. doesn't he realize that's not the part of the story that's load-bearing! he should've directed our focus to the political machinations and extensive trope deconstruction, not the handwavey bit.

point is, as a fantasy writer there will always be some amount of your worldbuilding that boils down to 'because I said so,' and there's nothing wrong with that. nor is there anything wrong with making that your whole thing – airy worldbuilding can be beautiful and inspiring. but you have to be aware of what you're doing, because if you ask your readers to engage with the worldbuilding in gritty mechanical detail, you had better have some actual mechanics to show them.

[evercenti]

The boy reminded me of the moon. His complexion was silver-like and glowing, smooth and flawlessly beautiful. His words were like gold leafs dripping from his perfect lips. His eyes, an icy stare yet warm and welcoming as you find yourself staring mindlessly into them.

He was the only boy I felt for. Even loved. However it could never be.

I just wished he’d noticed a girl like me.

Unrequited love.

Sorry to be a nag but please do not steal this as this is originally wrote by me! If you are inspired and write something similar, please tag me as I’d be thrilled to read what you’ve got! Again, I am quite proud of this short text and would not like it to be stolen!! ©

Also…If you liked this one, I would be happy to make more!!!

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Of Lions and Mice

Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Reader is intended to be female

Masterlist

Leona was annoyed.

Once again, his golden goody-two-shoes older brother decided to shirk his responsibility of being a father and dump the overexcited, disgustingly bright-eyed crown prince on him for the day. And not only that, it had to be today of all days - a rare day where you were free from picking up Crowleys’ slack, where the loudmouthed, nattering extras that always followed you were otherwise preoccupied (and bribed to bugger off with a bag full of tuna), where he was certain he’ll spend the day in bed with you right next to him. 

But no. Just like with everything else in his miserable existence, his dreams were crushed and he had to spend the day playing caretaker to his nephew instead of wrapped up with you. What’s worse was that, you’d decided to carry the pint-sized load off of his back and gave your undivided attention to the cub when it should have been rightfully his. How he hated that selfless nature of yours, that sweet, caring, gentle nature that would make you look at anyone that wasn’t him with that loving gaze, that would make you brush your fingers through Cheka’s golden orange curls the same way you would Grim’s fur or the stray cats you’d find around campus or any other being instead of his mane. 

He hated just how loving you were, how your eyes could see the beauty in everything.

How, now that it’s late at night, and he’s closed his eyes and pretended to sleep in his attempt to actually get some shut eye and so that the little hairball would quit bothering him but Cheka just continues yapping.

Even in the darkness under his eyelids, he could feel you cast a worried look his way from the spot where his bed sags a little.

“Hey Cheka,” your sweet, dulcet voice (which is currently being used to please his nephew and not sooth him to sleep with the sweet nothings it usually does) pipes up, “how about I tell you a bedtime story from my world?”

“A bedtime story?!” Wow, even with his eyes closed he could see the stars coming out of his nephew's eyes, “yes please!”

Once the little cub has settled into bed, he asks you, “do you know any stories from your world with lions in them?

“Any ones with lions? Hmm, well, I suppose I could tell you about Narnia but I think you might be a bit too young for that and - wait,” you punctuated your words with a snap of your fingers, “I know a short one. There was this man called Aesop who wrote these short stories called fables.”

“What’s a fable?” Cheka asked, his words covered in that innocently curious lilt that all six year olds seemed to have during every occasion Leona wished they wouldn’t - and that was all of them.

You, however, seemed to have much more patience than him, “A story with a moral in them. Like, always be honest, or share, or work together, that sort of thing. I had a book of them when I was younger and I really enjoyed reading them.”

Figures. Of course, the shining beacon of sickeningly polite goodness grew up with such stories. He would’ve teased you for that but he had a child who he’s still trying to convince he was asleep.

“That sounds so cool, Aunty Y/N! Will you tell me more?”

“Of course, I will,” he can hear your smile, “but I’ll tell you them later, okay. Now, it’s time for you to rest.” 

“Okay, Aunty Y/N.”

“Alright so,” you clear your throat, “there was once a lion that lay asleep in his den. A shy little mouse came upon him and in her fright she ran away, only whilst doing so she accidentally ran over his head, waking him up.”

“Oh no,” Cheka gasped, “that lion is going to be so angry if he wakes up.”

Oh, so the little hairball does have a brain after all. 

“You’re right. Furious that he had been woken up, the big lion slammed a paw down on the tiny mouse and grabbed her by the tail. Holding her up, he growled at her,” here you made your voice noticeably deeper, trying to imitate a gruff growl, ““How dare you wake me up! I am the king of beasts and anyone who interrupts my slumber deserves to die! I shall kill you and eat you!””

It took everything within Leona to not burst into laughter at your adorable imitation of a ‘big scary lion’. It’s a voice you’ve used before whenever you tease him, playfully repeating the words his old self would have said to you, and it’s one that he’s rather fond of. 

He loves and respects you, Herbivore, and he’s the first to attest to your formidability and capability - even though you have the annoying tendency to not only blur the line between bravery and reckless stupidity but also play skipping rope with it - but intimidating you are not. 

“This scared the terrified mouse even more. Shaking with fear, she begged for him to let her go,” you make your voice higher at this part, squeaking in a way that oddly suited you, in Leona’s not so humble opinion, ““please, your majesty, I beg of you, please don’t eat me. It was only a mistake and if you let me go I’ll be sure to repay you. If you spare my life one day, I might even save yours.””

“The lion looked at the tiny creature and laughed, amused at how such a small mouse could ever be of use to an animal as powerful as him, “You? Save me? How absurd. You’ve made me laugh and put me in a good mood so I shall be generous and let you go.”

“Thank you, your majesty, thank you,” the mouse squeaked as she was put back on the ground, before scurrying away as fast as fast as her little legs could carry her.”

“Yay, so the mouse is free.” Cheka giggled.

“He is,” you said, “but there’s still more left. A few days later, the lion was prowling around when out of nowhere he was caught in a hunter’s net. Try as he might, he couldn’t get out of it. He tossed and turned, roaring angrily as he struggled to escape.”

“Wait, so now the lion’s in trouble. How’s he going to get out?” Cheka asked in worry. 

“You’ll see. Hearing his cries, the mouse followed the sound, recognising it from the lion he met earlier.

“I have to help him,” she squeaked as she scampered towards him.”

Upon seeing the lion in the net, she said, “hold still your majesty, I’ll get you out!”

And she quickly started to nibble on the ropes with her sharp little teeth, biting until all they broke apart. It wasn’t long until the lion was free.”

“So the mouse saved him. Was it because the lion helped him earlier?”

“It certainly was Cheka. “Thank you, little mouse,” the lion said, “I laughed at you and didn’t think you could ever help me but you saved my life.”

“It was my turn to help you.” The mouse replied, ”never forget that even a creature as small as a mouse can help a lion.”

And that’s the end,” you say.

“Thank you, Auntie Y/N, I really enjoyed that. Do you think the lion and mouse became friends after that?”

“You are very welcome, Cheka. I think they did. They did help each other, after all. Now I think it’s time to go to sleep.”

And once you were sure that the crown prince was asleep, you made your way next to your boyfriend, running your fingers through chestnut locks, “did you enjoy that little story, Leona.”

He opens his eyes to see your endeared smile. Rolling over so that he could wrap his arms around your waist he muses, “it seems awfully familiar don’t you think? A scared little herbivore wakes up a sleeping lion and ends up saving him later.”

“I’ll have you know, Your Highness, that I was never scared of you. Even when you were a rude old brute who threatened to knock out one of my teeth. And I’m certainly not little.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” 

He pulls, letting you flop down on his bed beside him so that he can spoon you.

“Sweet dreams, little mouse,” he kissed your forehead, “I hope you know that I don’t ever intend on letting you go. Not after you helped in ways you could never even imagine.”

And so the lion fell asleep, holding the prey who rescued him from the confinement of his past safely in his arms.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

to many more | s.r. x liaison!fem reader

“what’s your favorite book?”

spencer looked away from his open files to turn in his chair to see you standing behind him, a couple of manila folders held close to your baby blue long sleeve dress shirt. he had to keep his eyes from dropping lower to get a glance at the curves that hugged to your black pants.

he coughed as he blinked a few times behind his glasses, “uh, well there’s- there’s too many to choose from. if you’re asking about general literature i’d probably say-“

you held a hand out with a shaky smile, “sorry. don’t mean to interrupt. but um, i’m asking if there’s a book or story that’s very meaningful full for you.”

spencer straightened his mouth, feeling it form into that usual line. he let his mind scour for a moment, “uh maybe… alice in wonderland. my mom used to read it as a bed time story from time to time in between narnia and fifteenth century literature. she used to read me valentines poems.”

he saw your brows raise for a moment, “that’s sweet. which did she recite the most?” you readjusted the files.

spencer tapped his fingers over his thighs, “mostly chaucer’s parlement of foules. The poem, which is in the form of a dream vision in rhyme royal stanza, contains one of the earliest references to the idea that St. Valentine's Day is a special day for lovers…” he stopped short when he saw a bored expression draping your face. “sorry, rambling.”

your eyes widen and you took a step closer, “no, no. you’re fine. your voice soothes me, probably looked a bit drowsy.”

spencer scrunched his face, “most people would look tired cause i’m boring them to sleep.” he saw your face fall at his words, he didn’t like the sight.

“well i like hearing your information. i find what you know quite fascinating, like last week you told me that flamingos feathers are actually white or pale gray, but appear pink cause of algae and shrimp. i would’ve never know that.” your smile pushed your cheeks, pupils beaming alight as he felt them ghostly tracing his face.

bashful your eyes directed to your feet, “i enjoyed our date last week.” moving some fingers to run behind your ear, “i’ve always wanted to visit the planetarium, but never found the time.”

spencer smiled fondly, “i’m glad i was able to get you the chance. sometimes they do thirty minute segments on each zodiac sign, it’s when i see a lot of ‘psychics’.”

you chuckled lightly, spencer’s grin widened. “i should take you to one for fun. just to test how real they are.”

he couldn’t help rolling his eyes, “don’t waste your money.” you shrugged simply, “could be a fun third date. she can verify that we’re a match.” giving your upper body a slight twisting at the waist.

before spencer could say anything in reply, you both turned to see hotch calling you from his upper office. “shit, forgot i had to drop these off. i’ll see you later.” and you stepped into his space to lean in an leave a kiss to his forehead. he could feel the residue of your fading gloss. he was happy there wasn’t many people in the bullpen, he didn’t want to deal with morgan’s teasing right now.

the only possible person to have witnessed that display would be hotch. “reid, a word,” his stern voice causing him to flinch in his seat. he quickly made his way up the steps and into the office, closing the door behind him and standing beside you with his hands behind his back. he wasn’t planning to have this conversation a month early.

“is there something you both would like to inform me on?” hotch letting either of you confirm your new relationship instead of assuming.

“uh,” you started to say before spencer interrupted more confidently, “y/n and i are currently seeing each other. it’s only been about two months.” he turned to you, eyes locking and both of you smiled at each other, “but i’d like to believe this will last awhile.”

“well,” hotch cleared his throat, “since you’ve probably read through the handbook spencer, there isn’t anything wrong with fraternization between employees. i would just need both of you to fill out some paperwork.”

you both nodded in agreement. “and please, try not to let this distract you in the field. otherwise you’ll have to be in separate rooms, hotel and assignments.”

“yes sir,” giving a playful salute as he dismissed you both. you decided to pull spencer by his hand in the direction of your, shared office, already knowing jj was busy elsewhere.

“i hope that was-“ you spun into spencer, palms on his cheeks as your lips pressed onto his. he went still for a moment, but you knew he just needed a second to process. his fingers curled along your hips, his warmth seeping through your fabric and onto your skin.

you sighed into his mouth as he worked your lips apart, taking the lead he moved both of you further into the office. your thighs hit the edge, a small gasping allowing for spencer to boldly slip his tongue into your mouth, your heart was pumping in your ears.

if you weren’t in the office you’d let your greedy fingers start to work at unbuttoning his shirt, but instead you were stopped short when someone groaned out, “holy shit!”

spencer was the first to jump away and you saw that penelope and jj were at the threshold with jaws dropped and bugged eyes. “you freaky love birds!” penelope screeched.

“i need to burn this room,” jj groaned as she turned on her heels.

[nonsensology]

This was supposed to just be a rough sketch, but then I started getting really invested in it.

I hadn't initially intended to include so many picture book characters, but the nostalgia was overwhelming. Does anyone remember the animated short films produced by Weston Woods? My local library used to have a bunch of them on the Scholastic VHS tapes from the late 90s. (I know some shorts were released on the Children's Circle VHS tapes back in the 80s (🎶 Come on along! Come on along! Join the caravan!), and some were packaged in Sammy's Story Shop in 2008.)

Characters:

Max, from Where the Wild Things Are, written and illustrated by Maurice Sendak

Peter, from The Snowy Day, written and illustrated by Ezra Jack Keats

Brother Bear and Sister Bear, from The Berenstain Bears series, written and illustrated by Stan and Jan Berenstain

Pooh and Piglet, from the Winnie-the-Pooh books, by A. A. Milne, illustrated by E. H. Shepard

Owen, from Owen, written and illustrated by Kevin Henkes.

Mouse, from If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, by Laura Joffe Numeroff, illustrated by Felicia Bond

Louis, from The Trumpet of the Swan, by E. B. White

Mr. Toad, from The Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Grahame, based on the illustrations by E. H. Shepard

Mr. Tumnus, from The Chronicles of Narnia series, by C. S. Lewis

Pippi and Mr. Nilsson, from the Pippi Longstocking books, by Astrid Lindgren

Willy Wonka, from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, by Roald Dahl, based on the illustrations by Quentin Blake

Matilda, from Matilda, by Roald Dahl, based on the illustrations by Quentin Blake (with an homage to the Mara Wilson movie)

Peter Pan and Tinker Bell, from Peter Pan, by J. M. Barrie

Merlin and Archimedes, from The Sword in the Stone, by T. H. White, based on the illustrations by Dennis Nolan

Pinocchio, from Pinocchio, by Carlo Collodi, based on the illustrations by Enrico Mazzanti

Alice, White Rabbit, and Cheshire Cat, from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll, illustrated by John Tenniel

Rupert Bear, from the Rupert stories, created by Mary Tourtel and continued by Alfred Bestall, John Harrold, Stuart Trotter, and others.

Arthur Read, from the Arthur series, written and illustrated by Marc Brown

Tin Woodman and Scarecrow, from the Land of Oz series, by L. Frank Baum, based on the illustrations by W. W. Denslow and John R. Neill

The Cat in the Hat, from The Cat in the Hat, written and illustrated by Dr. Seuss

a frog on a flying lily pad, from Tuesday, written and illustrated by David Wiesner

Charlotte, from Charlotte's Web, by E. B. White

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Grand Line Crew Modern Au Gang!

i hope yall enjoy, this took a while to get all together, here

ASL post

East Blue Crew post

Friends we made along the way 1 post

Friends we made along the way 2 post

i dont have many additional headcanons for this lot, but i did write a short story with them :) enjoy

Brook only wears the absolute grooviest of clothing at all times.

Brook only wears the absolute grooviest of clothing at all times.

Brook only wears the absolute grooviest of clothing at all times.

That’s just gonna have to be there 👆 tumblr likes to glitch out my posts.

Dont give chopper caffeine. He’ll either have a heart attack or operate on 5x speed, its a gamble every time.

robin and franky love watching home improvement shows, house hunters, how its made, myth busters, and other technical shows together.

When Luffy shows robin memes on his phone, she takes out her reading glasses and holds the phone like a mom does. Ya know that squint. You know.

Jinbei used to be a trucker and had a convoy with s bunch of his truckin’ buddies. They had matching leather jackets with “the sun truckers” embroidered on the back

Franky has a wig closet. It is vast. If you went in there you'd think you were in Narnia or something

Chopper is BEYOND CONVINCED that Sabo is a vampire.

One day, sabo volunteered as an assistant in a medical class chopper was taking. He was acting as chopper’s patient as he was learning the patient procedures of a checkup.

It was all going fine, chopper got all the patient identification out of the way and next was to acquire blood pressure, breath count, and heart rate. But the stethoscope and pressure monitor wasn’t working, and it make it seem like Sabo,,, didnt have a pumping heart,, or blood,,, or really breathed at all(he doesnt take very visible breaths).

Chopper was stricken with fear at this and assumed the absolute worse as he looked in horror at Sabo’s naturally pale complexion and long canine teeth. Chopper simply jotted down the average count of each recording instead of getting new equipment, and tried not to think about it, but

“huh, all of those numbers are usually lower than that. Maybe all that Special Concoction™ i drink is finally catching up to my heart rate.”

“how much have you.. drunk?”

“like for today? Or since I woke up.”

Chopper is fucking horrified. Sabo woke up to being a vampire and drinks blood as a special concoction. He cannot believe this.

”Never mind, I don't need to know, its all normal, you're normal.”

“Wow… that's the first time a medical practitioner has called me normal. My brothers are gonna get a real kick outta this.”

CHOPPER IS FUCKING HORRIFIED. HE HAS BRETHEREN??? Chopper just keeps his head down and finishes up the check up practice as Sabo remarks he has another class in the blood bank, which was lemon in the paper cut for chopper.

For a month or so after that day, Chopper didn’t see Sabo at all, and he forgot about his fear for a little while. However one night as chopper was hanging with Luffy and a few others in the straw hat friend group, there was a knock at the door. Chopper happily said “I’ll get it~” as the rest of the group continued in conversation.

Chopper skips over to the door and when he opens it, he sees the figure of Sabo standing in front of him. Tall and opposing, smiling a big toothy grin with bright blue eyes shining from the overhead lighting. He’s wearing a long trench coat with the collar popped and an ascot was wrapped around his neck.

What chopper was seeing before him.

Was the vampire.

He let out a scream right out of a horror film and promptly fainted.

A minute or two later, he awoke laying on the couch, feet elevated and vest unbuttoned, to his friends looking at him from the foot of the couch.

He goes to stand up, but a strong gloved hand stops his movement and guides him back down

“Don't get up too quickly, little man.”

Chopper looked next to him and saw The Vampire. What was he doing in his house?!?!?

“Are you alright, bud? You opened the door for me, screamed in my face, and then passed out.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Chopper said with the highest voice-crack to word ratio in his entire life.

“Right. Well again, dont get up too quickly, if you need water or anything let your friends know. I just came here to pick up Luffy cuz some family stuff came up. Have a good night!”

“…you too, and thanks for taking care of me…”

“No prob!”

“One last question?” Inquired chopper.

“What's up?”

“Did someone invite you in?”

the end

PS: Sabo's "special concoction" consists of Red Bull and Espresso. He hasn't slept in 72 hours. This will have lasting effects on his health.

thats all for now! thanks for reading~