#it's so clean!!!! there's so much space!!!!!!

[chaoticallyfluffy]

I’ve been forced into reading Danny phantom fanfics because I’m desperate for Billy Batson content and for some reason half the stuff on ao3 is crossover stuff so I guess I like Danny phantom now?? Kind of?? I haven’t watched it and I don’t plan on it but I really like the idea of it.

Anywho,

Billy has maintained a very delicate balance of half truths and lies of ommision over the years to protect his identity as a literal child. He uses facts he learned from his patrons and his interest and knowledge in history, specifically Ancient Greece, to convince people he’s ancient.

Then one day this ghost guy joins the league claiming to be incredibly old as well except he just goes around straight up lying about stuff, saying whatever the hell he feels like about the past if it’s convenient to him or just funny. Most of it contradicts with the story Billy has been delicately weaving over the years and he’s kind of panicking.

One day he confronts the ghost guy and is like “I know your not actually ancient but I’m not a snitch, how old are you?”

And Danny kind of feels bad about pretending to be ancient in front of someone who has literally been around since at least Ancient Greece and confesses that he’s 14. Captain Marvel stares at him for a few minutes before breaking out in a big grin and transforming into a 12 year old Billy. They instantly become inseparable.

You’d think that Billy would ask Danny to stop lying all the time because it’s gonna get them caught, but no, he thinks it’s hilarious. Now whenever Danny says something absurd or directly contradictory of the actual history that Billy told them, they’re just like “oh yeah both of those happened at the same time but all the scribes were at the same spot so no one wrote about the other one and it was lost to time” or “there was a time loop for a good few years back in good old Greece so a lot of weird things happened that just didn’t stick.” Or “that did happen but only ghosts could perceive it.” Or sometimes, if they absolutely cannot get away with any other explanation, “dang must have dreamt it!”

The league is hopelessly confused and 90% sure they’re being messed with but they have no proof and if they look at the history at least MOST of the stuff they say is true so there’s really no reason to doubt it when Danny claims he once fist fought the god of time while the entirety of Rome cheered for him and placed bets, especially when Billy nods sagely and says he remembers having to clean up the space time continuum after the fight and that he lost the modern equivalent of ten bucks in the bet (he still doesn’t lie, just doesn’t disagree with the blatant dishonesty. He honestly did have to clean up the space time continuum multiple times after Danny messes with time a bit too much thanks to Clockwork + shenanigans. They make bets all the time too lol)

I think the contrast between ‘never lies’ and ‘lies all the time for funsies’ with the same motivation of ‘do the funniest thing possible at all times’ can be extremely entertaining and interesting.

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #dc #fanfiction #justice league #fanfic #danny phantom #danny fenton #crossover #dc x dp

[imfinereallyy]

Steve finds love in clean sheets.

He comes home on a Wednesday night to his, Robin’s, and Eddie’s apartment, exhausted. They are packed in like sardines in the place; Robin gets a room to herself, having the space to create her own identity. But Eddie and Steve share a room and do so without much complaint.

They both want her happy.

They are friends, so it’s normal to share a room. It’s probably less normal to share a bed—but the space is small and they have so many things, so sharing a full bed is easier than squeezing twins into corners.

Steve doesn’t mind it being so close to Eddie. Thinks he should be worried about that feeling, but finds he isn’t bothered at all.

Their habits rarely butt heads, their organization skills somehow meet in the middle, and Steve doesn’t care how Eddie decorates as long he’s okay with the nail bat placed under the bed.

The only thing that is a problem that really isn’t much of a problem, is the bed sheets. Sometimes, Eddie forgets, so Steve’s taken it upon himself to change them. It’s not that he doesn’t like the smell of Eddie that lingers. It smells of a home he didn’t know he had on a warm summer day.

But after work, especially on hard days, Steve likes to shower and bury himself beneath clean sheets. The cold, smooth texture rubbing against he legs, the fresh linen scent feeling up his nose.

Steve doesn’t think Eddie notices; he is almost positive, and even if he did, he wouldn’t bat an eye. So Steve changes his sheets every five days or so, more often than really necessary.

Until this Wednesday night.

Steve isn’t having a good day—in fact, he would categorize it as one of his worst yet. Work was hell, and nothing was going his way. Steve walks into the apartment to see Robin and Eddie on the couch, and all Steve wants is to shower and crawl into a clean bed.

The problem is, though—the day from hell has actually been the week from hell, and Steve realizes he hasn’t changed his sheets in a week.

Steve groans as he heads towards the shower, ignoring the curious look from his friends. He begrudgingly accepts his fate—a dirty bed in exchange for an early sleep. Steve bangs his head on the bathroom wall.

Steve exits, and moves to his room to throw on boxers and a tshirt he almost sure is Eddie’s.

Then, he lifts the blankets and snuggles inside only to realize—the sheets feel amazing. They feel clean.

Steve glances down at them, realizes they are the flower sheets Eddie hates—replacing the dark grey ones that had been there this morning.

Steve knows undoubtedly that Eddie is the one who changed them. Steve could write it off as Eddie finally remembering a chore, but he can’t lie to his heart.

It knows Eddie did this for him.

Steve lets out a huge sigh of relief as he sinks down into the clean sheets, the smell of linen wafted through the air with hints of Eddie’s cologne from his shirt.

Steve snuggles into the bed—taking Eddie’s pillow instead of his own, and falls asleep to the steady thought that Steve Harrington is in love with Eddie Munson.

It’s the most peaceful sleep he’s ever had.

#i wrote this instead of sleeping #it feels kinda silly now that it’s written #oh well #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #my writing #ficlet

[woso-dreamzzz]

Natalia

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adeventures Universe

Summary: Talia has a way with the refs

You wrinkle your nose in disgust as you look at the smear of mud on your boot. You know boots get dirty but this is a new pair and you had hoped to keep them cleaner than this after their first game.

It's a little annoying but there's not much else you can do.

Actually, you haven't had much to do in this match at all which is probably the reason why you can take so much time to inspect your shoes.

The action is on the opposite side of the pitch for the most part with brief forays into the midfield but the ball never got close enough to you to need to touch it.

You like playing, obviously, but sometimes it's nice to be on the field and not have to do much. At least when your mothers are in the crowd because there's always the added pressure of keeping a clean sheet when you have to go to dinner with them afterwards.

Besides, a seven-nil lead on a team at the bottom of the table is always fun to watch while on the field.

Talia has been tearing up the opposition's defence. On a hat trick already with a brace of assists you know she'll be searching for a third to complete her set.

On the bench, you can see Alexia bouncing her leg with the other coaches as if this is a make-it-or-break-it game. You're at the top of the table so you can only think she's hoping for the goal difference to increase.

She's a bit intense like that.

You're a bit more relaxed though. It's a mixture of the usual starting eleven and some of the kids from the B Team, testing out formations and roles.

Your defensive line is mainly the kids but they take orders well and don't seem to mind when you micromanage them.

You usual defence know what you want before telling them so it's a seamless partnership. The kids just need a bit more guidance sometimes.

Not that you've really needed to do it this match with all the action up the other side of the pitch. But, still, it's nice that they listen to instructions.

This match has been an easy win for Barcelona but that doesn't mean it hasn't had its mishaps.

Yellow cards have been flying around since the moment the whistle was blown. Three in the first half and four this second half. It's a little impressive, actually, because this referee isn't really known for giving out cards so willingly.

You think that's probably why Alexia seems so intense on the bench. A few players are a yellow card away from being suspended from the next match and you've got matches against second and fourth in the table in the coming weeks.

She'd probably try to take over for coach yelling if anyone got suspended.

You sigh as another altercation happens in the midfield. Some attackers collide with your midfielder and they go down.

It's a clear yellow but it seems like the ref is done giving out cards this match. It's the wrong decision but you're not about to march up to her and tell her that.

Talia seems to have no such reservations.

You can't quite hear what she's saying but you know she's arguing because her hands are flying around and her face is all tense and the vein in her neck is bulging.

This ref is a bit trigger-happy with dissent though and you can see her hand twitch towards the cards in her pocket.

"Talia!" You yell.

She ignores you.

"Natalia!"

She turns her head slightly to the noise but doesn't stop.

"Natalia Guijarro!"

She turns to look at you and you point to the space in front of you.

She jogs there, panting from exertion or yelling, you're not quite sure.

"Yeah?"

"Don't you dare get a yellow for something as silly as arguing."

"But-"

"No, Alexia's about to blow a gasket on the bench and you'll just give my Morsa more reason to dislike you. Go and get another assist so you have something to brag about."

She sighs, kicking a patch of grass stubbornly. "Fine."

"Good."

Talia ends the match with no yellow cards and a hattrick of assists to add to her hattrick of goals.

Alexia gives you a nod of thanks as you pass her before she turns on her heel to go yell at the players that got yellows.

Talia's arm wraps around your waist as you approach the stands.

"Good game," Momma greets as you stop in front of her.

"Good game for her definitely." You nudge Talia. "Hattrick queen."

Talia's cheeks glow red at the praise. She always does that when it's you complimenting her.

"Almost got a yellow card too," Morsa says and you roll your eyes.

Her whole act of annoyance with Talia is so flimsy at this point.

"But she didn't."

"Yeah, I suppose she didn't..."

Talia's grin widens.

"Let us get changed and we'll meet you outside? Or reservation is in forty-five minutes."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

may 2024 twst manga updates~

***This includes spoilers for the Episode of Savanaclaw, Episode of Octavinelle, and the 4koma!***

AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH LILIA SILVER AND SEBEK LOOK SO GOOD HERE 🤡 I love how Silver and Sebek are constantly shown flanking Lilia, it really enhances the bodyguard/knight vibes! Every time Lilia appears, he always looks like he's having so much fun. Lil' guy is living it up in every panel! Especially when he appears upside down to spook Ruggie.

efbiuSIUBDBYypvfW9wpWD THIS SHOT IS SO GOOD??????? ?I'M LIVING FOR CATER MAKING SILVER AND SEBEK LOOK LIGHTLY UNCOMFORTABLE AS HE HANGS ON THEM.............. .... . . . . ....... .. .... .. . . . . .. ..

Ruggie's despair is delicious 🤤 He's thinking about all the events that led up to this point and about how that will now all go to waste. Now that I think about it and I have the visual right in front of me... That's the same thing Leona felt every time he got knocked down for his efforts. The parallels, man...

Well, fellas... Looks like it's probably Overblot Leona time next chapter. A detail I love here is that, from Leona's perspective, all the faces of his dorm members are sorta blotted out... which is interesting seeing as how it was stated that Mrs. Rosehearts' face was intentionally blotted since she is considered the source of Riddle's trauma + the light novel tells us that Leona fears seeing hope and desperation for a better future in others because it might motivate him to try again, thus prompting another failure or rejection... 😭

MALEWIFE MODE RUGGIE????? 😭 What a contrast to the Ruggie in the Episode of Savanaclaw who is really going through it…

Love the detail of Yuuta and Grim helping out with chores in the background! It shows that they’re trying to pull their weight while they stay over.

Babe, wake up... New Yuuta and Leona reaction images just dropped from the Episode of Octainvelle... (I am Yuuta whenever new TWST content drops and my non-Twstie friends are Leona whenever they're listening to me blab nonstop about the updates--)

Yuuta once again proves to be my favorite of the current Yuu iterations 🫶 He’s just so sweet and hopeful!

We actually get to see the class photo!! Although the resolution here is very grainy. I'm really hoping that we get to see a close-up after Azul's OB!! I'm dying to see what he looked like as a kid!

Palace servants: Young master Leona's magical power is so strong, it's scary!! Leona: Damn, they don't understand me! They judge me before they even get to know me. If I were the older brother, they wouldn't be saying this stuff. Also Leona: [see image above]

fbhlavfuoeqy8vevif;fa fai THIS CHAPTER REALLY MADE ME LIKE ACE?????? ??? ? ?? ? It's probably because he gives the same flawless liar (even though the acting is sooo overexaggerated) energy as Jade in book 4. There's a really fun scene where he's distracting the Atlantica Museum guards and really hamming it up. He looks so cute while he's being (fake) clumsy and enthusiastic!!

This was my favorite part!! Ace excitedly talks about how he's always been interested in merfolk since he was little (lie) and how he saved up all his money to come to this museum (also a lie)... THEN BRO HAS THE AUDACITY TO POSE LIKE THIS AND TALK ABOUT WANTING TO BE A PART OF THAT WORLD????? ?? ???? ? ?? ? ?? ARIEL WHO>?????? ?? ??? ?? ? ?I o NLY KNOW TRAPPOLA NOW

One of the 4koma this month is about Octavinelle going on a camping trip! Azul wants to study the stars for money-making ideas/inspiration.

When talking about auroras, they're reminded of the Diasomnia students and think about making an aurora-colored drink to sell to them. The Octatrio also star-gaze and talk about aliens + selling octopus to them. They discuss the idea of filling a space suit with water and fish to they can walk in space too.

The other 4koma is about Trey brushing the mouths of his mandrake (as they have no teeth but dirt). He insists that everyone should have a clean oral cavity.

You can even tell which mandrake is Trey’s because it has a bunch of toothbrushes stuck in its pot 🪥

Jamil was planning on using his own mandrake to make an ancient remedy for relieving toothache. Trey is uh… interested… and attempts to test out the healing toothpaste for himself (Jamil of course stops him).

Trey… you’re the most NORMAL one, why are you like this OTL

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst manga #twisted wonderland manga #Leona Kingscholar #Ace Trappola #Silver #Cater Diamond #Sebek Zigvolt #Lilia Vanrouge #Azul Ashengrotto #Jamil Viper #Vil Schoenheit #Trey Clover #Jade Leech #Floyd Leech #Octavinelle #Tweels #spoilers #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #episode of octavinelle #episode of octavinelle manga #episode of savanaclaw #episode of savanalcaw spoilers #twst 4koma #twisted wonderland 4koma #Riddle Rosehearts #twst light novel #twisted wonderland light novel

[allurilove]

Yan classmates kink list.

What are these greasy guys into?

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Kink list with links for every single one of my characters!

Submissive to Switch to more of the Dominant Characters! I will update this as I go post more fics!

Submissive

“Kenny” | Kendrick

If you really want a submissive guy, he’s your man. Well he’s your husband really. He’s afraid to talk back to his wife, and he does everything around the house. He stays at home, cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the kids. In a AU where women rule the world and men go to The Husband Program to learn to be good husbands, being submissive comes naturally to him. He can be a bit mischievous and a rebel, especially when he was young, but a good little humiliation will put him back into place. So, I guess he’s a masochist.

Loves to eat you out, and likes to be praised afterwards.

Favorite sex position might just be when you’re sitting on his face. Or the classic missionary.

Yandere Neighbor

He’s done everything to be close to you, and he even bought the space next door to your apartment. He loves to be choked, ordered around, spanked, will love it if you rode him, and he’ll go anything really. He’s the most dedicated man I’ve ever written for the readers.

He would fuck you anywhere. I mean he literally masturbated and licked your door knob for gratification.

Phone sex ?

Favorite sex position maybe doing it while standing up. He can hold you close and press you against the wall.

Yandere Best Friend

He’s quite new to sex so he doesn’t know much. But he does have a praise kink, and loves it when you call him a “good boy.”

I’m sure he would love to have you teach him new things, and would be pretty open minded.

Favorite sex position is probably cow girl or reverse cow girl.

Yandere Stalker | Survivor

He cut his dick off for you to eat, I mean damn. He sacrificed his whole life because he wanted your attention to be solely on him. Before the apocalypse, he did have the occasional hook ups. He would mostly be a bottom and let people do their thang on him.

Most likely to call you “master” or “mistress”

Before the apocalypse he has had his fair share of hookups, and would occasionally love to bite on ears.

Switch

Yandere Classmate

He’s literally a damn loser. He steals your cups, your underwear, and he would follow you around the world. He likes to have his hair pulled, or pull your hair.

He is pretty vocal during sex and would like to hear you too.

Choke him !

Loves to beg and loves for you to beg him

Loves it when you ride him or are just desperate for him as he is for you. but his fave sex position is doing it from the side, or missionary.

Yandere “Blood bag”

Has a knife kink and blood fetish.

He likes to mark his lovers, and bite down on their shoulder as he cums.

He would love it if you drank all of his blood and leave him almost to the brink of death.

Yandere Yearbook guy

All he needs is a photograph of you. Which he has plenty of.

Savior complex? the thought of you all hopeless or stuck somewhere- you know he’s just going to take advantage of that.

Loves to trigger your senses, and he would drip melted candle wax on you or please you with an ice cube

Pegging is fine with him too. As long as you know what you’re doing.

Favorite position: 69 or missionary with one leg over his shoulder

Yandere Professor

Your professor has an oral fixation for sure. He would stick his fingers into you after they’ve been soaked in your essence, and shove it down your throat.

Has a thing for when you call him “sir” or “professor”

Would have you bend over and spread your legs wide for him, and he’s an adrenaline junkie so would fuck you in public just for fun.

Dominant

Yandere Chaebol

Your boss is into your little maid outfit he gave you. And he realized he just likes role play. He also loves to make you crawl to him, and pull you around on a leash.

Loves to sneak around and would probably have threesomes if he could.

Yandere Husband

Would be into bondage: tying you onto the bed, and trying your limbs together so you can’t move.

A bit of a sadist.

Breeding kink

So favorite position might be the mating press. And he also likes to fuck you in front of a mirror.

Yandere Dad’s Best Friend

Voyuerism (idk if i spelled that right). I mean he did fuck you outside during the fourth of July block party.

Is into cock warning and just being close to you.

Squirting. And also dumping his load on your face after you give him a blowjob.

Slapping and spanking.

Would bend you over whenever he could.

#Allurilove asks #male yandere #smut writing #yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere x y/n #yandere imagines #yandere best friend #yandere classmate (yearbook guy) #yandere classmate x you #yandere drabble #yandere writing #yandere #yandere x darling #allurilove yandere writing #fave sex positions #yandere smut #smutty smut smut #dads bestfriend x yandere reader #older man younger woman #praise k!nk

[boundinparchment]

Kinetic Harvest

“I ain’t got the money. Not now. But with your…assistance, I can make it worth your while. Consider me a lifetime customer.”

You put the bullet back on your desk, a peace offering. He took it back and tucked it away, gun still trained on you.

“I don’t work on those who threaten me.”

Boothill/Gender Neutral Reader oneshot. Can be read as a pairing or not. Dottore reference if you squint. Not beta read.

Leaks used as a base, read at your own discretion. On AO3 here.

Reblogs are appreciated.

Desperation drove most to your doorstep, trembling as their bellies stoked fires so strong they made suns pale in comparison. Their eyes darted, assessing the clean office and workshop, as if they were wondering the validity of the rumors. A back-alley mechanic who took the money of criminals, crooks, and high society alike had to certainly have signs of that wealth. Or perhaps they thought morality was tied to cleanliness.

You cared not.

And they only cared whether you could fix their problem.

It made for a very convenient workflow.

But the man who sat before you was a deviation from that norm. He was surefooted, a little curious in the way his head turned to gaze about the darkened space. His eyes lingered not on you but on the prosthetic arm you kept behind your desk, the finger joints extended and the gun attachment on the wrist popped out, unloaded.

Never gave his name but you liked his drawl. You’d heard it from folks in a distant system. Aeragan-Epharshel was an ancient land, home to a language as old as the green plains and permafrosted mountains and dusty canyons; you were certain your mentor would have loved it there. So much to explore and learn from those who came before.

The stranger told you a story of a boy who grew up taming horses and identifying plants. Caring for everything around him. Isolated though the planet was, it was not without a law of entropy and a reciprocity that few ever even knew existed anymore. Of a child whose smile lit up a room like the sun itself.

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in his eyes when he stood a bullet up on your desk. In the glint of the lamplight, you caught three letters: IPC.

The one party you never took funding or clients from. The Interstellar Peace Corporation was, quite ironically, stood for the exact opposite, in your opinion.

“You specialize in cybernetics,” the man tilted his head as he leaned back in his seat. The wood squeaked. “And rumor has it, you go beyond the usual…modifications. I ain’t done in this universe ‘til that bullet is buried in the skull of the leech that sucks planets dry.”

His words were pinched tight by this teeth, jaw on edge. This man, this stranger off the streets, knew what he wanted and you wondered how many others in your profession turned him away. Plenty would. There was a liability in taking the human form too far, both ethically and bureaucratically. Too much red tape, too much diffusing of pre-conceived notions.

No wonder your mentor chose the path of eternal funding and embraced his legacy.

“Before you tell me, ‘No’,” the man drawled. “Know that I have endured harsher summers and brutal winters than most o’ your so-called patients, doc. I can handle what needs to be done.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you replied, fingers reaching for the bullet and holding it up to the light.

Those who were so glued to their convictions made for difficult clients, though. They were stubborn.

Worse, really, you reminded yourself as you looked up and noticed the barrel of a gun staring back at you. No one would stand between a hunter and his prey.

“I ain’t got the money. Not now. But with your…assistance, I can make it worth your while. Consider me a lifetime customer.”

You put the bullet back on your desk, a peace offering. He took it back and tucked it away, gun still trained on you.

“I don’t work on those who threaten me.”

A second, and then two, before he clicked his teeth and holstered the weapon. He gestured with open hands to demonstrate he was unarmed and then folded them in his lap.

“You’ll have a difficult road ahead,” you advised. “Years of assembly.“

“A full cybernetic body that preserves my noggin and my perfect eyesight is hardly unreasonable. It’s been done. Everyone knows you studied hidden away from the Aeons, under the Heretic. He’s dead, o’ course, but if I were a gamblin’ man…”

“You don’t strike me the type.”

“I ain’t,” the words came out strained, frustrated with a huff of breath. “A waste o’ money and time. Frivolous. All I’m sayin’ is…if I wanted the easy way out, I wouldn’t be here. I know what I’m signin’ up for.”

Your eyes traced his haggard face, white hair with tinges of black that had seen better days, a muscular frame trimmed a little too lean in places due to malnutrition. A hat more pristine than his dusty pants.

“Lay down over on the table,” you jerked your head in the direction of the vivisection table off to the side of your workshop. “We’ll start with your measurements.”

The man let out a slow exhale, one you didn’t dare attribute to relief. He rose with a steadiness you recognized only in those who trusted in their abilities and convictions, who would succeed not just through skill but by the cognitive bias that they embraced with every fiber of their being.

“Just promise me one thing, cowboy,” you said, collecting a tablet from your desk.

He turned, weight shifted to cock his hip impatiently.

“I don’t want your money. But when we’re done, you’ll tell me your name. I want to know what to call the one who succeeds in gutting the IPC.”

He smiled, crooked and charming, and you wondered if you ever saw eyes sparkle like that in this office before.

“It’s a deal, doc.”

#boothill #boothill hsr #hsr spoilers #Boothill leaks #HSR fanfiction #x reader #x gender neutral reader #boothill x reader #boothill x gn reader #can also be read platonically #idk how to tag this I’m not in this fandom properly

[wooahaes]

cake crumbles

pairing: non-idol!woozi x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship au. some slight comfort.

warnings: anxious jihoon who just wants everything to go well. proposal mentions. food.

word count: 1.3k~

daisy's notes: he :( <3

“Okay. We can fix this. It’s not too late.” 

The only things holding Jihoon together right now was both Soonyoung and Vernon’s presence right now. But he hadn’t stopped staring at where your birthday cake had been dropped onto the floor, smashed into a mess of blue and white icing. Even now, he couldn’t bring himself to clean up the mess in Soonyoung’s apartment. Soonyoung was on his knees now, tossing it into a bag to be disposed of properly once it was all done. It had all happened too quickly. One minute he’d been moving it to a different space on the counter, and the next he’d been lying on the floor, body aching from his slip, and the cake was destroyed. The little party he’d planned was hours away, and he’d ordered this cake specifically for you…

“I think grocery stores do plain buttercream cakes,” Vernon said, fingers covered in blue as he dropped another chunk of cake into the trash. “It’s not as special, but we can get them to write her name on it.”

“She likes those cakes,” Soonyoung nodded. “That’s what we did for my birthday last year.” 

Right, but those weren’t made for you. Jihoon had gone out of his way to slowly figure out what you’d love the most. He sighed, and moved to get paper towels to wet and clean up the remaining icing. “I don’t know. I wanted to get her something special…”

Vernon looked up. “It’s just her birthday. I know she’s special, but—”

Immediately, Soonyoung started to smack his arm. He shook his head, and Vernon slowly connected the dots.

“Oh.” Then his eyes widened. “Oh! Dude—Today?”

Jihoon quietly nodded, then stopped. “I mean—Not technically?” He sighed, leaning back. “I was going to ask her when we went home. It’ll be after midnight, so it’d be tomorrow, and—”

Vernon nodded. “Alright. Look,” he pushed himself off the floor. “I know some people. Maybe one of ‘em could help do us a favor.” 

Something inside of him seemed to crumple like tissue paper at how easily Vernon seemed to take charge right now.  That should be what he was doing. You were his girlfriend, his love, and yet he couldn’t seem to drag himself out of the spiralling thoughts that he’d fucked this all up. He knew what you would say now, though: that it was fine. That you didn’t need a birthday cake to be happy. But today needed to be perfect for you. You treated him with so much kindness, always so gentle but clear with how much you loved him. Jihoon wasn’t always the loudest with how much he loved the people in his life, but he hoped that his love was clear, too. This was supposed to be part of his big gesture, the thing that screamed to the skyline that he loved you wholeheartedly. The other part was the box still tucked away in his pants pocket, even now. He carried it with him most days, just in case he ever felt the inclination to forego his plans…

Maybe he should have. Then he wouldn’t be so stressed right now making sure everything went right. 

Vernon had already stepped away, calling someone to see what they could do on such short notice. Soonyoung, on the other hand, had helped him wipe up the remaining icing. The floor needed to be mopped soon anyway, and then the scene of the crime would be entirely taken care of. By the time it was all taken care of, Vernon already had a name and a place to go—which led to Soonyoung pushing Jihoon toward him, saying he could handle setting up the rest. 

He’d described as basic a cake as he could: vanilla, decorated with buttercream in blue and white, with maybe some flowers on it if the baker could swing it. All it needed to say was ‘Happy birthday’ and your name. The easiest thing that they could make, he would accept as long as it tasted good. With the order placed and a time given to pick it up, Jihoon stepped back out onto the street with Vernon at his heels.

“So…” He’d soon fallen into step beside him. “It’s not just about the cake, is it?”

Jihoon slowly nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. Anything to look more casual instead of the nervous storm he was inside. “If I don’t make it right… Then I’m going to feel like I failed her.”

“You could literally show up with just a thing of Oreos and she’ll love you.” Vernon looked over. “It’s fine to be nervous, but I don’t think there’s anything you could do that could upset her.” 

“I know, but…”

Vernon bumped into him, just to get his attention back on him. “You two love each other a lot, dude. It’s gonna be alright.” 

Jihoon could only hope that it would be.

Hours passed quicker than Jihoon expected them to. He and Vernon had returned to Soonyoung’s apartment and helped him set up for your little birthday party. Seungcheol had thankfully agreed to drive the cake over, careful as he could be, while Jihoon had to return home to you. He’d fed you this plan to go out for a movie and then dinner, hand hovering over his pocket. The box was right there. Maybe it’d be better for him to leave it somewhere safe here, but he felt better carrying it on him. 

“Jihoony?” You had turned from where you were putting on an earring—one of the ones he bought you last year for Christmas. There’s a playful lift to your voice, smiling at him. “Everything okay?”

He nodded, making his way over to you. “Everything’s perfect,” he said. Yet the pit in his stomach didn’t seem to shrink at all. He had hoped that saying it aloud would do something, and yet…

You fastened the earring into place, and then reached forward to cup his face. “Jihoony.” You let out a long sigh. “I know.”

“You… know?”

“One,” you said, “Cheol accidentally let the party secret slip when I asked him if he wanted to join us for dinner. And two…” You shut your eyes for a moment. “Remember the other week when you came home exhausted from work? You changed, ate dinner, and then went straight to bed…”

Oh no. Oh no. He swore he had tucked the ring box into his bag after he drove home. “So, you…”

With a soft kiss against his lips, you leaned back. Your chapstick tasted like birthday cake, all too fitting for today. “Whenever you ask, I’m going to say yes.” 

Jihoon met your eyes. “Even if it’s tonight?”

“Maybe wait until we’re alone,” you said, as if he hadn’t always planned for that. “But yes,” you giggled. “Tonight included.”

Jihoon reached for your hands, taking them into his own. The words already started to pour out of him before he could even think twice, “I dropped your birthday cake earlier. We got a replacement, but it isn’t the one I ordered for you. I hope that’s okay.” 

Instead of saying anything else, all you did was step back as you laughed. He’d fallen in love with your laugh long ago, but hearing it now he swore he was falling in love with the sound all over again. When you faced him again, you were smiling harder than before, even more radiant this time.

“As long as I get to enjoy it with you,” you said, “I’m going to be happy.” 

All at once, his anxieties disappeared. He leaned in, lips brushing against yours for just a few seconds. He knew he would kiss you properly once the two of you were home again. But for now, he’d leave you with something fleeting, just to leave both of you wanting more. “Happy birthday,” he said for the second time today, hands resting at your waist. “I love you so much.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen x you #svt x you #woozi x you #woozi x reader #woozi fluff #woozi reader insert #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon x you #wooahaes.24

[teenidlegirl]

꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓓𝐈𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝓦𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝓜𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 .ᐟ

. ˚◞ ♡ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕⠀˖ ࣪ ༘ fluff, sfw, established relationship

( ꯭♡︎ ) ˖ ࣪ . love note ˒˒ thinking about what it’d be like going to disneyland with miguelito. a little self indulgent since i’ve been to disneyland numerous times. enjoy some disney fluffiness. ♡

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel would wear a mickey cap with either a star wars or marvel shirt and pants. you’d wear classic minnie ears with a cute outfit.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ sometimes you two would wear matching mickey and minnie hats on other visits.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel double checks if you two have everything you need. water bottles, sunscreen, wipes (that mf is a clean freak), hand sanitizer. he would ask a million times if you have the tickets, which is on the disneyland app on your phone. he just wants to make sure they don’t get lost and the day isn’t ruined because you two look forward to it.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he hates the mickey and friends tram station because he feels so cramped due to his bulky figure. he has to slouch a little, trying not to bump his head on the roof (he has several times before).

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ you secretly take pics of him when miguel isn’t looking. you can’t help it because he’s so cute, especially in that mickey hat.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ you also take occasional selfies. of course you take a picture in front of the castle.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he always has a hand on you. hand holding, on your waist, hip, or the small of your back. mainly hand holding or his hand on your waist.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel is very protective of you, he already is, but especially when you’re walking through a sea of people. he shoots a glare at anyone who bumps into you, especially if they don’t apologize and keep on walking. he tries to be calm and civil, not wanting to cause an outburst and ruin your day.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ this dude HATES long lines. miguel would complain how stupidly long the lines are. moping and groaning but has to suck it up because he knows how much you want to go on those rides. to make it fun, you do the most cliche thing and play heads up on your phone. miguel would get pissed off when he doesn’t get the answer right, making you laugh.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ his favorite area is tomorrowland since it resembles a bit of neuva york. the futuristic scenery and aesthetic. such a big nerd he is.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he always gets caught off guard on space mountain because how fast it is. right after that right turn before taking off, he always get startled. he also forgets the camera towards the end of the ride. his eyes widen and mouth wide open in shock. he gets flustered and embarrassed when you take a picture of it. “can’t you not.” “too late, tonto.”

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ pizza planet is your guys’ go-to for either lunch or dinner because the pizza is bomb.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel loves star tours and buzz lightyear ride. during buzz lightyear, you two get very competitive on who gets the most points. he freaks out and nearly falls out when you move the seat with the lever. you laugh and make fun of him.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ after star tours, miguel goes on full geek mode and ventures around the entire store that you enter right after the ride. a smile forms on your face as you watch your cute geeky boyfriend gazing at all the merchandise. if you’re a star wars fan (i am lol), you’ll geek out with him and babble about the merch. you never leave the store without miguel buying something. a simple shirt or hat.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel HATES the teacups. he begs you to not go on it but obviously loses. you go on it just to purposefully mess with him. if you’re a crazy person (like me), you’ll spin that shit like crazy. poor miguel holds on for dear life, on the verge of trying not to puke while you’re laughing at his reaction. after getting of the ride, he has to take a minute to breathe before moving on. he hates spiny rides.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he isn’t a fan of fantasyland since it’s mainly for kids and slow rides. but if you wanna go on some rides there, he’ll do it for you. will never admit but he does like alice in wonderland, probably the only ride he likes there. he feels squished in those rides since they’re so small and he’s too bulky.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ after much convincing and begging, miguel takes a shot at the sword in the stone. with rolled eyes and a light scowl in his face, he tries pulling the sword with some strength, not all. shockingly, the swords lifts up from the stone. the public and crew applaud him for successfully pulling the sword. you reward him with kisses over his face, making miguel a bashful mess but loves it so much.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ thunder mountain is definitely a favorite of his (mine too hehe). the line might be a pain but it’s definitely worth it because the ride is amazing.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ matterhorn not so much because the seats are so small, he can barely fit in it. feels so cramped and uncomfortable. another reason he doesn’t like it as much is because it’s a single seat so he can’t sit next to you. before and after the ride, you two hold hands over each other’s seats, depends if you’re in front or behind him, because you know how clingy he is. it makes your heart flutter, he’s so cute.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ bro gets so excited when you head to galaxy’s edge. while holding your hand, he leads you around the area. stares in awe at the scenery and aesthetic. definitely buys merch from there.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ remember how much he hates long lines? oh he almost lost it while waiting for rise of the resistance. playing heads up or just talking with you makes it better. but it’s all worth it in the end. definitely one of his favorite rides.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ definitely hates water rides. don’t even bother convincing him to go on splash mountain because he ain’t getting on it. he hates being wet.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel really likes haunted mansion not only for the spooky atmosphere but because it’s so dark that you two cuddle in the fake coffin without anyone noticing. during the elevator, he holds you close so he doesn’t lose you in the sea of people. his strong beefy arms securely wrapped around you.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he hates water rides but pirates is an exception because it’s that not bad. he forgets the three drops, especially the first one. a big pout settles on his face when he gets splashed with water.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he makes fun of you for saying how much you love the smell of water in pirates.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ indiana jones is another favorite. besides the long tedious line, miguel loves it. he always makes sure you sit in the middle and him on the outside. shows how protective he is of you.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ definitely gets hungry after a long period of time. you two stop at the nearest restaurant.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel tries out the shooting exposition just to impress you. unfortunately, he misses almost every target and is now embarrassed as hell. turns out you’re the one to impress him because you manage to get every target. bro was astonished.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ during the fireworks, miguel has his arms wrapped around you and chin resting on the top of your head as you two watch the fireworks. when it’s over, you two share a kiss as the final touch.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ when your feet start to hurt, miguel doesn’t hesitate to carry you despite your protests. he whispers, “just a man carrying his princess.”

ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  ˖ ࣪ ༘  @yougavemeyourheartyouknow (i kept my promise to tag you for this ! <3)

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

#꒰ ˖ ࣪ . 𐙚 ⊹ ꒱ — 𝓗𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 .ᐟ #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara headcanon #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #headcanons #disneyland

[grandline-fics]

Forget-Me-Not

DESCRIPTION: Sometimes things happen beyond our control. After an accident occurs your relationship with Zoro is turned on its head and changed forever.

WARNINGS: There'll be angst and fluff in this series but this part is mostly okay

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 1,526

A/N: This is the first chapter of a multi-part fic in honour of reaching 700 followers. I hope you all enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

“Ugh how much further until we reach the new island?” Luffy pouted with his chin on the kitchen table. “We haven’t been anywhere in so long. I’m bored!” Abruptly he yelled out when Kanji’s heel connected sharply against his Captain’s skull, effectively righting the poor manners and making room to set the plates of food on the table for the evening’s meal. 

“Shouldn’t be much longer.” Nami state, finally setting her charts aside to eagerly begin eating with everyone else. “Another couple days if the winds stick with us.”

“I wonder what kind of place it’ll be this time.” Usopp wondered idly. The last place you’d all stopped at had been so remote and small that it hadn’t amounted to much beyond restocking the ship. Hardly the stuff adventures were written about and certainly not enough to sate Luffy’s need for excitement which was the reason for his currently restless and dejected nature. You all hoped that he would be able to last another two days that Nami had predicted. 

Personally you didn’t mind what kind of place you reached next, a calm relaxing trip would suit you just as well as an adrenaline pumping adventure. So long as you got to stretch your legs you were happy. As you slowly chewed you looked to the empty space beside you and a frown pulled at your lips. Zoro was late for dinner again and you didn’t need Chopper’s nose to know where he was.

With a quick ‘be right back’ to the others you rose from your place at the table and climbed to the crow’s nest, peeking your head through the hatch to stare at your partner as he worked out, so focussed that he hadn’t noticed the time. Sensing another presence appearing was enough to make him set his monstrous weights down and turned to look at you. “You still deciding if you were coming in or not?” He asked as he grabbed a towel to wipe away the sweat from his face. 

“As much as I love the show, I’m too hungry to take you up on that offer.” You answered with a grin. “You coming to dinner or do you want something sent up? Just keep in mind the longer you take to decide the more time Luffy has to steal both our portions.”

“You go on and eat.” He told you with a small chuckle. “I’ll clean up here first and then come down.” With a smile you nodded and dropped the hatch, returning to the kitchen in time to salvage your meal before Luffy set his sights on it. The rest of the evening progressed as usual for you and the rest of the Sunny up until you wearily returned to you and Zoro’s shared quarters after  your watch. 

After you changed you smirked at your boyfriend who was relaxed and breathing deeply, anyone else would truly believe he was sleeping soundly. You however knew he was awake. It had taken a while for you to notice the subtle giveaways but now you were an expert at it. With a tired groan, you slipped into the bed and smirked when his arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you close. “There a reason you’re still awake?” You asked, laying your head against his shoulder while happily soaking up all the warmth he had. 

“Was for a while but then I knew you’d be finishing your watch so I stayed up.” He explained lowly, watching as a sleepy smile pulled at your lips. “What’s that look for?”

“Just love how sweet you are for me.” You grinned, leaning up to press a soft kiss against his cheek. “Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone.”

“You better not, now get to sleep.” Zoro instructed with a smirk. In the silence he listened for the telltale signs you’d fallen asleep before allowing his own consciousness to slip away and claim the rest he needed. 

————

As to be expected with Nami’s estimation, the Sunny docked at the island in two days and the entire crew all but let out a sigh of relief to see Luffy excitedly leap from the railing and onto the soft golden sand of the beach. As he whooped, bounced and sprinted along the shore you all looked at each other. Now came the decision on who would be the one to keep an eye on the endless ball of energy you’d all chosen to follow for the rest of your lives at sea. After quiet deliberation, Franky, Sanji and Zoro decided to go with Luffy. You went with Usopp and Chopper into the forest you could spot nearby in search of fresh plants and resources to stock up with medicinal and experimental ingredients. Robin and Nami decided to remain on the ship to relax and sunbathe with Brook staying behind with them. With the groups set you all parted ways. Lightly you squeezed Zoro’s hand in a tender but silent and subtle goodbye. As you watched him go you couldn’t help but laugh softly, glad that your trip into the forest with Usopp and Chopper would be easier handled compared to Luffy who had weeks of built up energy to get out of his system. 

After a long competition on who could hunt the biggest beast to restock the ship’s meat preserves that resulted in a draw but lengthy argument, Luffy decided he wanted to eat now no longer caring about a winner. 

“I’d say the others should be back at the ship and will be hungry too.” Sanji noted, looking at the sky to see the day had progressed a lot longer than they’d originally thought and the previous bright day had begun to darken with a growing blanket of cloud appearing. “Come on, with this we’ll have a feast. After we’ve eaten we can explore some more.”

However by the time they appeared on the beach, they were surprised to see the sky had darkened considerably and the calm summer-like breeze had picked up into a cold, strengthening gale. As the rain began to fall and thunder rumbled above them, Nami hurried towards the group. 

“Did you see the others on your way?” she asked desperately, shielding her eyes from the falling rain to look towards the forest you, Usopp, and Chopper had headed towards that morning. 

When the first lightning flash of lightning split through the sky Zoro felt panic set into his blood and immediately broke into a run, desperate to find you and his friends. Frantically he cut through the trees and knowing he was in the right area he began to call out for you, Usopp and Chopper, trying his best to yell louder than the storm that was raging. Another flash of lightning hit a tree near Zoro and he leapt out of the way in time to avoid the scorched and splintered trunk as it crashed to the ground. This was far too dangerous, Zoro thought as he continued to hurry through the terrain that would have been confusing to navigate without the storm. Filling his lungs he bellowed out your name, only to feel a brief sigh of relief build in his chest to hear a voice respond. But the relief turned to dread once more when he realised it was Usopp who screamed out again. “Zoro hurry!”

————

Your body flared painfully and your mind was hazy as you began to come to. A weak, strangled gasp broke through your lips as you forced your eyes open and flex your fingers, only to feel the pain spike through your limbs. Looking around you felt fear to see you didn’t recognise your surroundings and you flinched at the sound of the storm raging. Feeling only the instinct to be get somewhere safe and recognisable, you focused all the strength and stubbornness you had to get to your feet but after trying to run you only ended up hurtling to the ground again.

A yelp of pain and frustration broke through you and after berating yourself for literally running before you could walk you did all you could to rise once more. Already exhausted and in agony you limped as best you could, blindly feeling your way through the confusing maze of strange scenery. Shakily you continued to tell yourself to keep going in the hopes something familiar would show itself soon. 

Cold rain pelted your skin and the wind whipped at your face as you looked around desperately. With widened eyes you found yourself as far as you could go, nails biting into the wood as you stared dark, swirling water. A hand fell on your shoulder and you spun with a scream.

“What are you doing out here?” He asked with brows furrowed in concern, his voice only just being able to be heard. “Come on, we need to get you dried off before you get sick on top of injured.” The stranger urged but you refused to move. 

“Who are you?” You asked weakly. You were confused and scared and that only grew when your question made the man’s expression break into one of shock and worry. “Where am I?”

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fic #zoro x reader #zoro x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #zoro #ronoroa zoro

[carmenberzattosgf]

how do you think it would be carmys first kiss with someone who works w/ him?

I’m assuming you mean like how it would happen? I’ve thought about this a couple of times and the main way I see it happening is after closing.

Maybe you stay behind late to work a dish that you couldn’t work on during operating hours, or you stay late to clean up. Regardless of your reasoning for staying, Carmy’s there because he’s always the last one to leave the restaurant.

Carmy finds his way behind you, watching as you cook. He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your neck. “What’s this, chef?”

“Uh-it��s wedding soup. Well, it’s going to be, anyway. I’ve been trying to perfect the recipe, but I didn’t want to do it on company time.” Your hands pause in cutting the carrots. He distracted you too much to risk getting nicked.

“Are you wanting it to be on the menu?”

“That’s up to you, not me,” you reply plainly. “You know, Carm, you don’t have to stay. I know it’s late. I can lock up after I’ve finished.”

“Do you want me to leave?” His question comes out as a whisper. The tension in the air thickens as you set the knife down on the cutting board and turn around. Your back leans against the counter behind you. Carmy’s right in front of you, leaving barely any space between his body and yours.

“No.” It’s only a mere second after your reply that Carmy’s lips crash into yours. It’s full of passion as his hands wrap around your waist to press your body into him.

NOW. to be completely honest I fear in character Carmy would then profusely apologize like “oh shit that was really fucking unprofessional. Fuck I’m sorry. I’m going to uh- go now.” And then run out of the restaurant </3. He just doesn’t know how to handle his feelings and feels like he acted rashly. The thing he’s most scared of is there being an improper balance with you since he’s your boss.

He would in time though stop being a wimp and would take you on a proper date. He really, really likes you he just simply doesn’t not know how to be in a relationship. Bless him.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #the bear #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfiction #thoughts

[strictlyfavorites]

George Carlin's wife died early in 2008 and George followed her, dying in July 2008. It is ironic George Carlin - comedian of the 70's and 80's - could write something so very eloquent and so very appropriate.

An observation by George Carlin:

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.

We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships.

These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.

Remember to spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.

Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.

Remember, to say, 'I love you' to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.

Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

And always remember, life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by those moments that take our breath away.

George Carlin

[fumifooms]

Helki compilation

Helki is a prisoner-turned-servant. He’s a criminal canary and was implicitly one of Milsiril’s charges, and now that she’s retired he’s become her servant.

He must have gotten into Milsiril’s good graces, wether through attachment or convenience, which is a feat considering Milsiril’s a socially anxious recluse. Which is interesting because it’s not like he seems like the agreeable type, shifty upbeat delinquent style… We really don’t know much about him, not even what crimes he did, so there’s a lot of space for speculation on all grounds.

He seemed to be acting out of his own initiative in the Rin comic, he doesn’t look thrilled to be there in many post-canary comics but he also seems content enough. He restrains Milsiril in the Mithrun cleaning comic which is interesting to think of for their relationship.

It’s fun to notice how he’s the only one that didn’t get bored of looking after Rin, and then reports back about her condition… I’d say he was getting used to taking care of kids which would come with the job of serving Milsiril, but then, not enough for him to clean the blood off himself hah. In this way it’s interesting to think about his relationship to the idea of parenthood, he’s probably the closest thing to a father figure/male role model Kabru had growing up, without mentioning the other kids. I feel like he’d consider himself an older brother, cousin or uncle figure sooo much sooner than a father, but even then I do think it’s just his job and he’s not really invested or forming real relationships with any of them much.

It’s curious to note that he’s dressed in canary uniform presumably after having been pardoned and living with Milsiril? Which you can tell by the armor bits (the yellow strips of spider silk). In the Kabru training montage and the Rin comic specifically. It seems very implausible for him to have still been a canary while being a retired Milsiril’s servant and being with her all the time, and the cleaning with Mithrun comic (where he’s not in uniform) happens after Utaya so it could happen after Kabru was taken in but around the time of the Rin comic. So why uniform? It could be one of the best outfits he has, so it’d make sense to wear it around especially if you’re sparring or getting… Blood on you? Could just be because that's how Milsiril wants him to dress. But yeah we don't know when exactly Helki becoming Milsiril’s servant happened. We do see Mithrun’s charge Cithis be tasked with taking care of him, so charge being given a servant-caretaker role doesn’t seem all that out of the ordinary, sometimes even prior to retiring.

Imo, if he doesn't work for Milsiril he goes back to jail/the canaries/has to try and get a job instead of just tending to her, so Helki is staying with Milsiril because she's the best option for him. He’s her milsiril's personal servant and does mostly dull tasks involved in that. He’s not particularly suited to the role but they’ve gotten used to each other to him so she took him with her, and he does prefer it to canary work so it works out decent for him. I think he’s used to reading her and managing her moods and he’s one of the rare social connection she has.

Under spoiler is stage 2 interpretation stuff, bigger speculation, in a reblog I’ll make soon I’ll go over my thoughts for stage 3 interpretation lol. Helsiril I’m coming for you

Translation of the canary hierachy chart used is by Thatsmimi, here

#Dungeon meshi #spoilers #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #Helki #Compilation #lmk if he’s pictured anywhere else #Helsiril my beloved I need 30 fics of you it shall have 10 metric tons of extrapolation from canon but it shall be tasty indeed #Might do comps/short explanation posts of the other minor canary characters like Misyl and Erique. Ik the Flamela shippers would enjoy #He has less screentime than Dandan. Tragic. Though I guess he’s just not even remotely involved in present canon business so fair enough #The canaries have a batman system… No literally https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Batman_(military) #Helsiril #In reblog addition I’ll make… soon #I imagine him kinda being like Mickbell personality wise #Did you know soldier-turned-servant like here with the canaries was a thing historically. No really: #https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Batman_(military) #He looks full of mischief… Alas shackles are minimizing the whimsy and he must act responsible and obey #Helki x milsiril #The helki-kabru potential dynamic is super interesting too #I do like to think seeing milsiril & helki growing up hammered “it’s use or be used” into him… Will elaborate in reblog

[egrets-not-regrets]

Guesthouse of the (Lost) Astartes: To Render Aid (4)

Erriox and Lenora provide aid to a lost chaos space marine and his young bonded human.

Dialogue spoken in Gothic are bolded and italicized.

Author’s Note: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4.

I am finally done! That was such a ride. This last chapter is a big one with a word count of almost 4900. A few comments on this chapter: Big bad scary chaos space marine is soft for his (mate, wife) bonded human. Malaran is Ben's ride or die buddy, and also has very little filter. Apparently, being an aunt by space marine is a thing now. I have a bunch more of silly comments in my head for this chapter. Let me know if you guy want to see these comments.

Thank you @squishyowl for making the fic dividers!

Enjoy!

Tagged:

@kit-williams, @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @shadowfirecat,

@gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @bispecsual

“Ben?” Both Lenora and Ben turned to the sound of the voice. 

“Mom!” Ben cried, running towards her, “Mom!”

Amelia braced herself against the impact, laughing tearfully as her son ran into her arms. She hugged him tightly, “Ben! Oh Ben! I missed you so much!”

She had absolutely zero clue on how her son even managed to find his way here, let alone escaping out from under her ex and his family’s noses. But she didn’t care. He’s here, her boy is here! 

Ben buried his face in her shirt, wetting it with his tears, “Mom! I missed you! I missed you so much!” 

“I looked for you for so long!” He wailed. 

Amelia’s heart shattered at her child’s cries. She tightened her grasp, apologizing over and over in weepy whispers, “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, Ben! I tried! I tried to…Oh! I’m so sorry!” Hugging him tightly like it was her last day on earth. 

Amelia desperately wanted to tell Ben how she tried again and again to visit and see him, each time only to end up blocked by her ex-husband’s family or his Black Templar Astartes. The gifts and letters she tried to pass onto him. How Alcyon managed to catch her ex unguarded and intimidated him enough to let her visit once more outside their home and give one last gift to him. How the Black Templar soon patrolled the school as well after that. She wanted to say how the judge ruled custody in her ex’s favour after Alcyon’s fight with the templar at Ben’s school. How they were then ordered by the Warsmith and the local Chapter Master not to contact him again, her own son, for the sake of keeping peace. She wanted to tell Ben so many things so badly, so he could understand that she had tried so hard and had never ever stopped loving her baby. 

“I love you so so much, Ben.” Amelia mumbled into his hair.

What did it matter? She had still suddenly disappeared from Ben’s life without a word. God only knows what her ex’s family told him, given how much they disliked her. Her heart bled with regret. She could never apologize enough for not being able to fight harder for him. But now that Ben is here, she could make up for the lost time as much as possible. 

“I love you, Mom.” Amelia laughed, full of joyful tears, when Ben gave her an extra squeeze. 

But HOW did he get here? She wondered. 

Eric’s voice drew her out of her thoughts, “Hey Amelia.” Passing her and Ben a box of tissue, which both gratefully accepted. 

Amelia blew her nose and wiped her tears, noticing the other woman standing there with them. She smiled kindly at her, then gestured to Ben and Eric, “Let’s clean up a bit first before we continue. Eric, mind showing Ben to the bathroom?”

Once refreshed, Amelia asked her, unsure of who she was and what relation she had with her son, “You’re…” 

“I’m Lenora.” She shook Amelia’s hand. 

“Amelia.” She replied, “How did you meet my son? You brought him here, right?”

Lenora nodded, “Yes, well… Erriox, my Astartes, brought Ben and his Astartes to my home.”

Amelia encouraged her to continue as they sat together in the waiting hall, Ben curled up against her, “They were caught in a snowstorm when Erriox found them and led them to our house.” Lenora decided to skip the part where Ben caught hypothermia and needed first aid for now. Amelia already felt guilty enough, no need for her to add more worries to her plate. 

“We found out that Ben was looking for you, but he and Orca were being hunted down by the Black Templar. It was only a matter of time before he would come knocking at our door as well.”

“Orca is…”

“Orca is Ben’s bonded Astartes.” Lenora confirmed. Amelia laughed quietly. Of course Ben would name his Astartes after some sea creature. 

Lenora sighed, watching the boy start to nod off, “Ben told us that you were bonded to a chaos space marine. And luckily, between Orca and Erriox, they were able to figure out that it was brother Alcyon. So we made our way here to Steelix Fortress.”

Ben piped up, “We were chased by that asshole!”

“That asshole?” Amelia wondered, “You mean…”

“The Black Templar.” Lenora clarified. 

“He was so close to catching us, but Ms. Lenora did this really cool Fast and Furious thing to avoid him! And Orca and Erriox jumped him and they started fighting!”

Lenora internally cringed at that, Ben’s mom really did not need to know how they drifted a truck and nearly careened off the road. So much for that.

“Erriox and Mal…Orca, they’re still out there fighting…” An uncomfortable anxiousness crept into her veins. So much so that she almost forgot to use Ben’s given name for the Black Legionnaire. 

“Fighting the Black Templar, huh?” Amelia sullenly added. 

“Yes.”

Amelia laughed with bitter admiration, “That Astartes is nothing if not doggedly dedicated to his cause with a one-track mind to succeed in his mission.”

“I’m sorry. That probably doesn’t relieve your fears.“ she added remorsefully. 

Lenora stared at the distant entryway of the medical wing, mumbling, “I hope they’ll be okay.”

Ben piped up, “They can take him. Orca can take him.” He said with the utmost faith. Lenora wished she could believe the same. It’s been a long time since they had parted and yet Erriox and Malaran weren’t here yet. Two arms wrapped around her neck as Ben hugged her, “They’ll beat him. I know they will!” 

She smiled sadly as she hugged him back, “Thanks Ben. I really needed that.” Just have to hang onto that spark of faith and trust that Ben’s intuition is correct. Right?

The boy then went back to his mother’s side, asking her, “Mom, is Brother Alcyon who you live with? Was that what you meant by the kingfisher?”

Amelia blinked, surprised at her son managing to find out where, rather who, she meant, “Yes, Kingfisher is Alcyon. How did you figure it out?”

“Ms. Lenora told me.” Amelia chuckled at Ben’s answer, “she’s a wildlife biologist who works with birds!” he answered proudly. 

Lenora laughed, appreciating Amelia’s play on her Astartes’ name, “It made sense once Osteron told me who you were bonded to. For a little while, I was worried that we would have to check every area where kingfishers were known to be nesting outside the fortress.”

“You’ve seen actual kingfishers?” Amelia asked. 

“Yes! There are at least one or two pairs that nest along the river just outside of the base. If you’re interested, I’d be happy to take you to see them at some point.”

Ben begged, “Please, mom?”

Amelia smiling, agreed, and traded contact information with the other woman.

**************

By the time Alcyon arrived, the two Astartes warriors were trudging on the road towards the fortress. The disgruntled Black Legionary dragging his feet, looking off-balanced, and his sullen loyalist battle-brother carrying the comatose body of the Black Templar over his shoulder. All of them looked like something a wayward Heldrake dragged in. 

“Khornate idiot!” He heard his battle-brother hiss at the Black Legionnaire. 

“Trench Skaven!” The chaos Astartes hissed back, spitting a clod of blood onto the snow, “If your Warmaster wasn’t so soft, we would have killed him and be done with it!”

“Orders are orders! The warmaster needed him alive to find a way out of this mess! If you hadn’t so carelessly engaged the templar earlier, you wouldn’t be in this state!” Erriox argued. 

“Enough.” Alcyon commanded, “Brother Erriox, pick up the pace.” He went to support the wounded chaos marine, “We will follow.”

They soon made their way to the fortress. Luckily, Malaran’s injuries eventually healed enough that he could jog unassisted. The group went straight to the medical bay, dropping off the Black Templar with the order of binding and securing the unconscious Astartes as soon as possible, then quickly left to seek out their bonded humans. 

Malaran, now that the haze of bloodthirst and battle faded away, was suddenly reminded of Ben’s mission. He asked his fellow chaos Astartes, “You are bonded to Ben’s mother, are you not?” 

Alcyon confirmed his identity. 

Malaran rounded on the chaos Iron Warrior, voicing his displeasure, “Tell me, why did she not return to see her son at school? Did she know how much distress she caused him?” 

Alcyon straightened to his full height and snarled at the still-injured Black Legionnaire, his red lenses flared with annoyance, “It was the corpse-damned Black Templar! In the last several months, he patrolled the area around the house, cutting us off from seeing the child there. Then he started doing the same at the school. My human begged him and that blasted family. Begged. Him. To see her son, to pass on whatever gifts and letters she had for him. Whatever they did with those gifts and letters, we never knew, but it was clear the child never received them.” 

His voice lowered in volume, remembering that they were in the medical wing of the base, “I could not stand for such insult. That was her son, not that damned son of Dorn’s! We fought, which had us banned from the school grounds. Of course, humans do not look upon chaos warriors favourably.” Alcyon scowled, his one good eye glared at the floor in front of them as he remembered the utter heartbreak in Amelia’s eyes when she found out what happened. She couldn’t bear to look at him, let alone be around him, for days after that incident. It hurt. More than a chainsword carving through his chest. 

He growled, his anger flaring, “We were then ordered not to contact the child anymore lest the Black Templars decide to start a crusade against us. So do not even DARE accuse my bonded of not trying find a way to see him!” 

“But since you have bonded to her son and brought him back, I will forgive your insult this once, but if your actions so much as put her and her son in jeopardy, or tarnish her name,… I will put you down myself.” Alcyon threatened. Erriox was surprised at how fiercely protective his battle-brother was of his bonded human over such a short period of time. To be fair, he would have perhaps done the same in his situation. His brother’s record of events did answer his question with regards to the templar’s accusation though. 

Malaran scoffed, “I am the last person you need to say that to. You take me for a fo—?” His rant was cut short by Erriox knocking his chestplate. 

“Shut it. They’re here.” The Iron Warrior scolded him as they caught sight of the two chatting women and the child with them. 

“Orca!” Ben called out, running up to meet him. Alcyon snorted at the name. Malaran ignored him, wincing as his gut wound complained when he knelt down to receive his human’s embrace. Ben threw his arms around him and buried his face in Malaran’s neck. He looked at his injuries and the cracked armour, upset at his current state, “You’re hurt!”

“I am fine.” He crooned, nuzzling to soothe his young charge. He purred, rumbling deeply, happy to see his youngling safe and sound. 

“Mom! This is Orca! He’s my space marine! He’s the one who helped me!” Ben said proudly. Malaran couldn’t help but preen at the tone of pride in his youngling’s voice. Amelia walked over to the pair, standing in front of the kneeling chaos marine. To his surprise, she hugged him, her voice tearful but happy, “Thank you, Orca. Thank you for caring for Ben and bringing him back to me.”

She was Ben’s mother. He recognized her mild floral scent from the momento Ben carried. Malaran didn’t understand all of what she said, but he understood that she was grateful to be reunited with her son. But why was she crying? Did he do something wrong?

Confused, Malaran leaned his head against hers and purred, going by instinct as that was what usually helped quell Ben’s tears when he cried. Amelia gave a small laugh before releasing him, “I’m okay, but thank you again for sticking by him.”

“She’s alright. She said she is grateful to you for staying with her son.” Alcyon translated, his gaze noticeably softened as his mechanical claw tenderly touched Amelia’s cheek, catching the tear threatening to run down. She patted the claw in thanks and gave him a watery smile. The chaos Iron Warrior recognized the boy from the many times he watched his bonded meet with him at the school. He mostly stayed out of sight during those times for Amelia’s sake, but close enough that he could easily protect her should she run into trouble. His bonded placed her hands on her son’s shoulders to turn and face him. She smiled warmly at Ben and then at him, “This is Alcyon. He is my bonded Astartes.”

Ben looked up at him. Alcyon was a tall Iron Warrior, reminding him of the kind apothecary he just met, Osteo-something. But much more fearsome. His scowling face was heavily scarred, his right eye was replaced by a collection of red lenses, a deep cut ran down the left side, splitting open his top lip, exposing a glint of sharp teeth underneath. There was a shallow nub on the left side of his forehead where it seemed there was once a horn that was cut off. 

His modified armour and his mechanical limbs only added to his frightening appearance. His left arm was replaced by a large claw and a large mechanized limb replaced his right leg just above the knee. Ben couldn’t believe that he was related to Erriox or the apothecary. Whereas Erriox looked stern and strict, and the apothecary looked kind; Alcyon looked scary, even scarier than Orca when he’s angry. 

Swallowing his fear, Ben asked the hulking chaos marine, “Are you Kingfisher?”

Alcyon knelt, getting a good look at Ben, though still towering over the boy, “Yes, Kingfisher is the name your mother gave me.”

“Thank you. For keeping my mom safe.” Ben said, meeting his gaze bravely. 

Satisfied, Alcyon huffed and stood up once more, gently ruffling Ben’s hair with his gauntlet-covered hand. 

“Your mother is my bond-mate. Protecting her is my duty.” Came his stalwart answer. 

Erriox quietly went over to Lenora where she was watching the reunited family. He pulled her against his armour in a close embrace. She hugged him, giving him a tired smile, glad that he was finally there. He was here, safe and sound, in one piece, with her. 

Her hand caressed the remnants of the recent battle on his chest armour, “I was so worried...” Her voice dropped to a murmur, her voice tight with emotion, “The last I saw you were fighting… and then we waited for such a long time… I was scared that you wouldn’t… I thought…” 

Erriox quickly shut her up with a kiss, a brow twitching in annoyance when he heard Eric’s whispered cheer. He quickly turned, using his body to shield Lenora from everyone’s view. His gauntleted hand gently brushed away her tears as she leaned into his touch. 

Clutching her tightly in his arms, he kissed her again, this time deeply and all-consuming, “Have faith in me, Lenora. I will come home to you.” Erriox vowed into her lips. It would take more than just a Black Templar to stop him. 

“You better.” She kissed him back, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, pulling him ever  closer for as much as his armour allowed. Desperately clinging to her Iron Warrior as if whatever entity that sent him to her will take him away if she didn’t. He only held her tighter and pushed his kiss deeper.

“Ms. Lenora!” 

They broke off from each other at the sound of her name. Erriox quickly set her down and Lenora wiped her mouth before meeting the rest of the group, trying to ignore the swelling of her lips. 

Ben rushed forward and hugged her tightly, almost knocking her off-balance had not Erriox braced her from behind.

“Thank you! You and Erriox! Thank you for helping me find my mom.” He mumbled into her chest. Lenora’s heart melted. She hugged him back, giving the boy a good squeeze, “You’re very welcome, Ben. Be good and take care of yourself, hm?” She mumbled into his hair. 

Erriox reached over and patted the boy affectionately on the head, “You are welcome.”

“You might as well fuck her while you were at it.” Malaran snickered. Lenora's ears burned with that remark. Amelia blushed. 

Erriox glared at him and growled threateningly, “Keep your comments to yourself, cousin. Don’t make me regret helping you.” Protectively looming over his human. 

Alcyon elbowed the Black Legionary harshly, “Don't be so vulgar in front of my mate.”

“Your what?” Malaran’s mind came to a screeching halt. 

“My. Mate. Did the templar hit you so hard that you have gone deaf?” Alcyon icily responded, resting his right hand against the base of Amelia’s back. 

That was unexpected. The Iron Warrior certainly usurped the former husband’s position quickly, Malaran thought. The Black Legionnaire doubted that Ben would have known about this. He was about to ask, but thought better of it; this farce has gone on long enough for one day and he would like to spend time with his youngling now that this debacle was over. A moment of uncertainty ran through him, would this mean his position of Ben’s bonded was in danger too? His hands itched to bring Ben back to his side. He hissed lowly at the chaos Iron Warrior, reminding him, “Do not dare steal my youngling away from me.”

Alcyon glanced at Malaran, offended at his presumption, “You have nothing to worry about unless you foolishly put them in danger.”

Lenora shook her head, looking away from the two chaos space marines, “I think these boys are ready to head home and be done with it.” She chuckled to Amelia, then ruffling Ben’s hair goodnaturedly, the boy yawning mid-giggle, “This one too.”

She turned to Erriox, “Let’s go home?” 

He was about to agree when Osteron walked up to the group, a warm smile on the apothecary’s face, “Hello Amelia, I’m glad you have your boy back.”

Amelia smiled at him, “Hello Osteron. Yes, I’m very thankful.”

He addressed the group, “It is rather late, so it is best to stay at the base and leave the next morning. You ladies and Ben here could stay in Brother Erriox’s and Brother Alcyon’s rooms. Brother Malaran, we will make arrangements for you to stay as well.” 

He then addressed the three Astartes, irritation evident in his voice, “You three, tracking dirt and blood all over my clean medbay,…” Even Alcyon stiffened slightly at the change of tone, “Report to the Warmaster on today’s events then report back to me. You will spend your time cleaning up every speck of debris and stain in my medbay to my standard before you leave.”

“Yes sir.”

Malaran groaned and was about to argue, but Alcyon told him to shut up, “Don’t. It will only make it worse.” He said. 

“Are you in trouble?” Ben asked worriedly. 

Osteron chuckled, “It is nothing terrible. These boys made a big mess in the medical bay and now are going to clean it up. They will be back with you after they are finished.”

Malaran huffed and patted Ben’s head, purring and promising in Gothic to return to him as soon as he was done. 

Lenora giggled at Malaran’s grumbling before turning to Erriox, “Don’t get into more trouble now.” She joked.

Her Iron Warrior huffed, side-eyeing the Black Legionary, “I can’t promise you that.” 

Erriox kissed her brow and then her lips, “I will return.” He promised.

Lenora kissed him back, “One more for good luck.” She smiled. He smirked. 

“We’ll see you later then?” Amelia asked Alcyon quietly. 

“Yes, I will be with you soon.” Alcyon, almost bent double, pressed his forehead to hers. Amelia smiled and quickly touched her nose against his, “See you then.”

“Rest well.” With one last caress, the chaos Iron Warrior turned to follow his battle-brothers. 

****************

Lenora walked Amelia and Ben to Alcyon’s suite.

“So… like… Is Alcyon going to be my new dad?” Ben asked, breaking the comfortable silence. 

“You want him to be?” Amelia answered. 

Ben shrugged, “Don’t you like each other though?” Recalling how Alcyon acted towards his mom. 

Amelia paused, confused and slightly concerned, “Yes, but that doesn’t make him your dad. What if your teacher and I like each other, would you start calling him dad?”

“No, but he’s probably better than my actual dad though.” Ben replied, making a face, he couldn’t picture his teacher and his mom together. He understood her point though. 

“Alcyon is a space marine. He’s our protector, but I’m not sure he’s um… ready for you to be calling him ‘dad’.” She wasn’t sure how to feel about Alcyon in all this, to be honest. He was intimidating, at some points can be very frightening, and was weird about certain things, being unaccustomed to what humans here take for granted. But on the other hand, Alcyon was incredibly devoted to her, fiercely so. He was so different, and was so much more than everything she found lacking in her previous relationship. Amelia had to admit that she did love him in the short time they were together and that their relationship was intensely… romantic? But the fact remains that the emotional wounds left by her ex were too raw, too recent. She didn’t want to use Alcyon and to think of him as simply a rebound or a temporary band aid solution to that emotional trauma. The topic of fatherhood? Yeah, she’s definitely not ready to touch that conversation at all. 

Lenora stepped in, “Ben, maybe hold off on calling anyone your dad. Orca might feel real weird about that.” She figured that would likely cause conflict between the two chaos space marines, considering how overprotective and clingy Malaran was of Ben. Chances are, Malaran would be upset and jealous of Ben’s relationship with the chaos Iron Warrior if that’s the case. The thought of Malaran begrudgingly calling Alcyon “dad” was very funny though. 

The boy agreed and decided to drop the topic. He hadn’t even considered how Orca would feel. Another question nagged his mind, “Ms. Lenora, since Erriox is Alcyon’s brother and Orca’s cousin, can I call you ‘Aunt Lenora’?”

Lenora stared, trying to find the correct words to say. She looked helplessly at Ben’s mother who only giggled at them. She tried to explain, “Erriox is not actually related to them, you know? Kind of like in certain cultures where I would call another woman, like your mum, “sister”; but she’s not actually related to me.”

“But that means I can still call you Aunt Lenora even though you’re not really related to me if Erriox calls Orca, his cousin. You’re much better than my actual aunts.” Ben countered. 

Lenora laughed, she couldn’t fault his logic and she couldn’t say no to the little bit of flattery at the end. An aunt by space marine, she is then.  

“I suppose.” She said exasperatedly and fondly, “You can call me Aunt Lenora.”

Ben cheered. By that time they had arrived at Alcyon’s room. Amelia turned and hugged Lenora tightly, “Thank you so much, Lenora. Thank you for bringing Ben back to me. I thought I lost him for good. I owe you so much for this.” She said, heart full and feeling eternally grateful to the other woman. 

Lenora hugged her tightly back, giving Amelia a comforting squeeze, “It’s all good, don’t you worry about owing anything silly like that. Just take care of yourselves. I’ll probably see you around the base sometime.”

She pulled away a little, suddenly remembering something, “I put some extra toiletries in Ben’s backpack. So if he’s looking for a toothbrush or something, it should be in there.”

Amelia hugged Lenora again, she couldn’t be ever more grateful to her, “Thank you so much.You really didn’t have to.”

“It’s fine. I have extras anyway.” 

“You’re the best, Aunt Lenora.” Ben said, his voice muffled as he burrowed in to join in on the hug. Lenora just laughed, her tiredness briefly forgotten with the boy’s enthusiasm. She clutched them both tightly once more before taking her leave. 

“I’ll see you guys around.”

Mother and son watched Lenora leave before entering Alcyon’s room. His room was relatively spartan. The only evidence that he was bonded to a human was the soft dark green fleece blanket on his bed and a few stems of dried Achillea millefolium flowers and dandelions tied together in a small bouquet on his desk. 

Once inside, Ben dug through his backpack, pulling out spare clothes, more snacks and sandwiches, a large bottle of water, a bag of toiletries, a ziploc bag with some first aid items, among other things. Ben gasped when he pulled out a copied set of Blue Planet DVDs and a letter folded inside one of the DVD cases.

“In case you end up somewhere safe and able to find a DVD player. Enjoy the Blue Planet series! They are very good and I think you’ll like them. I don’t know where you and Orca plan to go after this, but I hope this pack will be enough supplies for a little while. At least until you get to another safe place. Good luck! I hope you find your mom. - Lenora”

That woman gave her son so much. Amelia didn’t think the kindness of strangers would stretch this far as she had already done so much for them. Amelia decided then that she would at least treat Lenora to dinner next time she sees her. 

****************

Mother and son were sleeping peacefully by the time the two chaos marines returned to Alcyon’s room. Malaran’s first instinct was to gather the boy and bring him with him to his room, but thought better of it. 

“Let them sleep. I will be with them. Come join us again in seven hours.” Alcyon told him. The Black Legionnaire nodded as he retired to his own room for the night. 

Alcyon stripped down to his body suit. Sitting at his desk, he switched out his heavy leg prosthetic for a lighter one and then took off his metal claw. It was only when he lived with Amelia that he started doing this, not wanting to accidently nick her again during their sleep. Human skin and flesh tears so easily. After the first couple of scars he made, Alcyon became much more careful using his claw around her, something he would never have considered for anyone, let alone a baseline human. 

He slipped into the bed behind Amelia, his tall bulk protectively blocking them both should a threat enter from the doorway. He watched his human’s son sleeping deeply, nestled into the curve of her body. Reporting to the Warmaster had been interesting, piecing together the events between him, Malaran and Erriox. The Warmaster was deeply unimpressed and grumbled about a can of worms under his breath. In the end, Amelia was able to reunite with her son, which was all that mattered to him. This time, he will make sure to keep his this little family together, to make up for his past mistake to his dear mate. He will destroy anything and anyone who dares threaten his peace.

“Kingfisher?” came Amelia’s whisper. It was a strange name, but he didn’t mind it, though only she was allowed to call him that. 

The chaos Iron Warrior rumbled a low affirmative, feeling her body sag in relief against him. He brushed her hair back delicately, pressing a kiss to the shell of her exposed ear, drawing out a blissful sigh. Her head tilted to reverently place a kiss to the skin of his arm stump where it met the metal attachment point for his claw. Alcyon hummed with quiet satisfaction, not daring to purr, lest he wakes up the boy. He wrapped his arm around Amelia, listening to their steady heartbeats as he closed his eye. 

*****************

The mattress dipped with his weight as Erriox joined her. Lenora hummed in comfort as she felt his warm body curl around her and his rumbling purr vibrate down her back, relaxing as the exhaustion of the day’s events caught up to her. Erriox kissed the nape of her neck and nuzzled into her hair, inhaling her scent. She drowsily looked up at him, exhaling a sigh of contentment, “You’re back. It’s good to see you.”

“I’ve returned.” Erriox replied, his voice soft as his hand drifted along her exposed throat; memorizing the feel of her pulse and the warmth of her skin. He tilted her head back, kissing her languidly before pulling her closer to himself. “Don’t ever drive like that again.” He grumbled, closing his eyes and draping his arm over her. Lenora laughed in acknowledgment and intertwined her fingers with his, bringing his hand up to her chest as she drifted off to sleep.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry #space marine husbandry sentience #iron warriors #black legion #oc: erriox #oc: lenora #oc: malaran blackspike #oc: ben #oc: alcyon #oc: amelia plover

[mappingthesky]

not a prompt necessarily but I’m always down for planymphia angst 🙏🙏🙏

in response to multiple asks i’ve received for planymphia angst… here is this <3

i know baby, no attachment

None of this had been in the plan.

It was the first thing they’d talked about that first night in Jane’s apartment; Neither of them were looking for anything serious. They were both unavailable, incapable of making any promises. Not now. Not yet. It would be clean, simple, no strings attached. Just two people using each other. Innocently, admittedly using each other, but using each other nonetheless.

They’d been on the couch in Jane’s dimly lit apartment. Jane was an obvious sort of gorgeous. It was the first thing Nymphia had noticed about her, what drew her in on that first night they’d met: she’d been wearing something meant to lure you in, hypnotized by the clinging of her clothes to her body, the wave of her hair, her eyes tightlined and sharpened like knives. Jane was almost lethal to look at, all done up and primed to kill; the most magnetic friend-of-a-friend Nymphia had ever been introduced to. She was somehow even more gorgeous now, sitting on the couch in her casual clothes, her face aglow in the light of the television, her auburn hair pulled up into a messy top knot. She was painfully, effortlessly attractive, and, much to Nymphia’s surprise, only so much of a smooth talker. She came off suave at first, all punchlines and quick remarks, but after a while Nymphia could start to see her thinking. Jane would be in the middle of a sentence, flying through it, hurtling towards some revelation, and then she’d catch herself. She’d pause, freeze on a word and scoff at it, like she was considering whether whatever she was about to say would be worth the sentiment. And then she’d go a bit shy, averting her eyes and playing with the pilling on the upholstery, giving away just how carefully considered she was. And just when Nymphia was starting to think that Jane was completely nervous to her core, that Nymphia might actually have the upper hand in this situation, Jane would bring it back. She’d pick her head up and let the words go, say something so stunningly direct and devastating. It left Nymphia a little breathless, a little too endeared, a little too eager to kiss her.

They could have guessed at the chemistry, but it didn’t come close to the real thing.

What happened when Jane’s skin hit Nymphia was the sort of collision that produced suns and planets and supernovas, flinging particles off into space with enough pressure to form entire worlds. Nymphia could practically see the stars behind her eyes, fluttering shut when Jane was hovering above her, hand between her legs, finding some undiscovered place that Nymphia didn’t know had been there all along, waiting to be found. Jane turned Nymphia’s body into something more than it was before, transforming her irrevocably. Jane was a comet crashing through her atmosphere, and Nymphia was awe-struck, staring at the sky and watching the sparks shower. You can’t be prepared for such life-altering things, it's what makes them so devastating.

What neither of them could have predicted was the ease of what came after - the lying in bed, talking about it. The debrief. Nymphia was a bit too happily fucked, and unwilling to share the extent of her satisfaction. She was worried she would come off easy, inexperienced somehow. Jane, however, was endlessly attentive. She wanted Nymphia’s experience of the encounter, all the details - what she liked, what satisfied her the most, what she wanted more of. Her sheer desire to please was enough to pull the details out of Nymphia. She was rewarded when Jane allowed her to relive it, this time through Jane’s eyes. Jane’s gaze was far off with remembering, a smile playing at her lips as she recounted her experience of Nymphia in such erotic detail, every telling arch and shudder, and the whole thing was so overwhelmingly flattering that it sort of made Nymphia want to do it all over again.

Nymphia had known better than to pack an overnight bag. She thought she had, anyway.

Her eyes were closed and she was nearly asleep when she’d mumbled, ‘I should be going soon.”

Jane just chuckled. “You’re half asleep already.” Her fingers trailed up the curve of Nymphia’s thigh. “Just spend the night. If you want to.”

Nymphia's eyes were suddenly open, “Yeah?” Jane traced stars onto her hip.

“Mhm,” Jane hummed, eyes flickering up, then back to the curve of Nymphia’s waist.

Nymphia closed her eyes, savored in the feeling of Jane on her skin. A long moment passed.

“D’you cuddle? Or is that against the rules.”

Jane’s hum was an amused look at you asking so soon. She was already pulling Nymphia to her chest.

That first night turned into a three-day sleepover, because of course it did. Nymphia and Jane stretched themselves over the long arc of the weekend, sharing the sort of welcome, unexpected ease that you can’t put down, the kind that you’ll happily destroy your routine over and resign yourself to picking up the pieces after the fact. One weekend became another, and then occasional nights at Nymphia’s apartment with the door shut and her duvet crumpled at the end of the bed. And then they added the weekday rendezvous: Nymphia meeting Jane at her place after work on Thursday evenings, promising not to keep her up late and failing miserably, leaning her head on Jane’s shoulder in the morning as she locked the door on her way out. And then Nymphia was bleeding into Jane’s week, her Tuesdays and Wednesdays, her breakfasts and dinners, her late-night ice cream cravings and subsequent walks to 7-11. And then it was all too regular: Nymphia and Jane, Jane and Nymphia.

It's been a few months now, and there are so many things Nymphia loves about Jane.

She loves how Jane drives with one hand on her thigh, or with her fingers in her mouth. How she looks over to the passenger seat with that special look that's reserved just for Nymphia, and makes her feel like the only person she's ever wanted. She loves how she listens to her music loud, sings along when she’s drunk and tossing her hair, or when it's Sunday morning and she’s at the stove and there’s a record spinning in the living room. Nymphia loves how unabashed Jane is, how bold. How she never hesitates when it comes to the people in her life, how to be loved by Jane is to be fiercely defended by her. Nymphia loves how Jane kisses her in the middle of her sentences, especially when she's talking too much. She loves that Jane is so rough. How she can fuck her like she hates her. She loves how Jane can be so tender. How she can fuck her soft and slow, as reverent as religion. How Jane can make a mess of her, then put her back together again.

There are so many things Nymphia hates.

She hates that Jane is so impulsive, how she strikes so thoughtlessly, how she has to return to the wounds later to draw the venom out of them. How Jane is so stubborn, so set in her ways, so inflexible. How there’s two Janes - the one she’s with now, the one she is around her friends. The one who doesn’t kiss her, hardly touches her aside from a possessive arm around her shoulder or a tap on her knee. How the real Jane, Nymphia’s Jane, emerges as soon as they’re alone together, the one who will see her downturned gaze on the way home and coo what can I do, princess? Hmm? What can I do to see that pretty smile? Nymphia hates that she forgives Jane so easily, that she crumbles every time, that she loves Jane completely and entirely and beyond any measure of hurt that she could unknowingly inflict upon her.

She hates that she’s still sitting at this party, long after Jane promised they’d leave. She hates that Jane’s friends clearly like her; they laugh at Nymphia’s jokes, compliment her shoes, send knowing glances and winks across the room every time Jane so much as mentions her name. She hates how, when they ask what they are, Jane is all too quick to brush them off.

It's obvious that Nymphia’s upset by the way she pounds up the stairs, by the way she wordlessly digs through her purse for her keys, by the way the anger and the hurt and the disappointment emanate from her like poison.

“I just can’t believe they asked that,” Jane scoffs. Nymphia says nothing, gritting her teeth as she turns the key in the lock.

It should be obvious, but Jane is a bit too self-absorbed to notice.

“Like, we don’t even know what we are,” Jane says, and Nymphia feels sick, because she thought she did. “Why would she put me on the spot like that? In front of everyone?”

Nymphia pushes into the apartment, beelining for the kitchen.

“I mean, it was weird, right?” Jane continues, relentless. “Why do they need to know so bad?”

“Yeah,” Nymphia’s voice is hard, laced with venom. She chucks her keys onto the counter with a little too much force. “Why would they?”

“Right,” Jane doesn’t notice. “It would be nice if they could just let us-“

“I don’t know why they could possibly be so confused.” Nymphia interrupts, working off her thigh-highs.

Jane misses a beat. “Wait. Are you-“

“I can’t fucking imagine why they’d think that we’re together.” Nymphia lets her boots drop to the floor, one gut-wrenching smack after the other.

Jane blinks, brows knit together. Nymphia straightens up, fumbles with things on the counter that don’t need to be fumbled with. “Are you upset about this?”

“Why would I be upset?” Nymphia picks up a stray mug, sets it down again. “You just told all of your friends that we’re nothing serious. Why would I ever be upset about that, Jane?”

“I didn’t say that, Nymph,” Jane starts, already on the defense. “I said that we’re something.”

“Oh, right. My bad.” Nymphia scoffs. “We’re something. Let me know when you’re ready to illuminate me on whatever the fuck that means, Jane.”

Jane recoils at Nymphia’s profanity, unfamiliar with her frustration. She’s never seen her like this- so hurt, so ready to retaliate.

It's not funny. Jane shouldn’t laugh. She really shouldn’t, but she’s viscerally uncomfortable and horrifically unprepared for this situation, so she does anyways. “Are you really angry about this?”

The whole thing is white hot and embarrassing, and Nymphia has tears in her eyes when she turns and whips her purse to the floor.

Jane jumps. “What the fuck?” She’s wide-eyed, both hands held up in shock. “Nymphia. Are you serious right now?”

“I don’t know Jane,” Nymphia bites. “Are you serious?”

“What?”

“I kinda thought you might be,” Nymphia steps over her bag. “Y’know, because you cut me a key to your fucking apartment. I thought maybe that constituted we were more than,” she curls her fingers in the air, “something”.

Jane shakes her head, jaw tight and temple pulsing. When she speaks, it's in a lower voice, almost ashamed. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“You never want to talk about it!” Nymphia’s voice cracks, a desperate wail. Jane’s mouth opens, already halfway towards defending herself until she looks at Nymphia and sees her bottom lip quivering, the spilling over of her tears. Jane looked back with a concerned, almost panicked expression, lips frozen and slightly parted.

“Do you love me, Jane? Do you even fucking like me?”

Nymphia surprises herself with the question. She’s so amped up, so high on adrenaline that she lets it all out- the culmination of weeks of words she’d bitten back, suddenly pouring forth from where they’d been collecting in a lump in her throat.

“No, seriously, do you? Because I can’t fucking tell. I think you do, because- because you say all these beautiful things, and you spend so much time with me, and you take such good fucking care of me. So you must fucking love me, right? But when your friends ask, I have to sit there and listen to you tell them that we’re something. Like it’s so fucking confusing to you. Like it's a goddamn secret. Do you know what that feels like?”

Nymphia is fully pacing now, walking the length of the kitchen over and over again. Jane follows her with wincing, pained eyes.

What Nymphia hates, more than anything, is that she doesn’t hate Jane at all. Not for any of it.

“I’m fucking in love with you, Jane, alright?” Nymphia whines, hands whipping through the air with frustration. “I’m so in love with you, and everybody fucking knows it. Your friends, my friends, my mom, everyone! But no one seems to have any goddamn clue if you love me too. And you know what? I’m not sure if I do, either.”

When she finally expels the last of the words from the hole in her heart, Nymphia looks up through her tears. She can barely stomach the sight of Jane, lips parted and wordless, unsure of what to do with the outpouring of Nymphia’s heart. She stares at her, eyes twisted in pain, then looks to the ground, like Nymphia’s words have slid off her and collected in a puddle at her feet. Nymphia just cries, a pained and exhausted whimper on her lips as she pushes past Jane and into the living room. She collapses on one end of the couch, pulling her knees to her chest and hiding her face behind one hand, hot tears sliding down her cheeks and into her mouth.

Jane stands in the center of the room with her back turned, still facing the phantom of Nymphia’s words that may very well haunt her kitchen forever. Her head is spinning, because how the fuck did this happen. Nymphia is openly sobbing behind her, and the sound is so gut-wrenching that Jane is nauseated.

Nymphia makes a horrible, shuddering gasp for air and Jane finally breaks, crossing the room and dropping to her knees on the floor where Nymphia sits. She doesn’t even look at her, just sobs, and Jane can physically feel her heart fucking breaking.

“Nymphia,” she says, placing her palm on Nymphia’s knee. “Nymph. Hey.”

Nymphia shakes her head, face contorted with tears. She flinches at Jane’s hand like it fucking hurts, and Jane winces as the guilt slices through her. She exhales a sharp puff of defeat and drops her head in hurt.

Nymphia just cries and cries, and the reality of the situation sinks in Jane’s stomach with every sob. She’s sick to her stomach with concern, worried that Nymphia might actually fucking hyperventilate, and then she’s gently begging the girl to breathe. She goes to reach for Nymphia again and pauses, scared to reach out, scared to hurt Nymphia, scared that she’ll recoil from her again. It’s then that Jane knows, for the first time in all of her life, what she wants. She knows, right as it threatens to slip out of her hands.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Jane hears her own voice. Her words hang in the air for a moment, floating like smoke between Nymphia’s shaky, shattered breaths. Jane looks up.

“This,” she says, a tentative hand on Nymphia’s knee. “What you and I have. I’ve never-”

The words are hard for Jane to stomach. They don’t pour out like Nymphia’s do. They catch in her throat, feel wrong in her mouth. She’s not sure they’ll be enough.

“I’ve never had this with anyone,” she says. “I’ve never wanted to. Not until now.”

Nymphia wipes at her eyes, shudders a bit as her breathing quiets.

“I, um,” Jane glances down, scared to look. “I don’t know how.”

Nymphia finally looks at Jane, so small and nervous and crumbling at her feet. She wants to take her hand, to show her, to be endlessly patient even if it kills her. The desire is so enormous, even now. She almost hates herself for it.

“I know I’m fucking it up,” Jane says to the floor, her voice tiny and wavering. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that.”

“I just need to know,” Nymphia whispers.

Nymphia swallows hard, and then Jane looks up and its so fucking harrowing, so moving, because Nymphia can see the guilt in her eyes, the desire, the glimmer of words she can’t figure out how to say. She watches as she considers, catches herself, lets it go.

“I do.” Jane says. Nymphia’s heart plummets, because she knows what she means.

“I don’t want to say it now,” Jane says. “I don’t want it to be an apology. I want you to know I mean it. Is that okay?”

Nymphia nods and Jane mutters over and over I do, I do, you know I do.

It's beautiful and tragic and overwhelming, and Nymphia wants to crash into Jane, to merge together and surpass the need for words entirely. It's too soon to know yet if it's for better or for worse, only that she does it - that she reaches out and takes Jane’s hand.

“I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it.” There’s a hint of a smile on her lips, a bit of Jane laughing at herself. “But I want to try.”

Nymphia just nods and feels more tears streaming down her cheeks, and Jane’s crying too, and then they’re crashing into each other. Nymphia is leaning down and throwing her arms around Jane, who is sitting forward and clinging to her like she’s scared to let her go. Like she caught a shooting star in her bare fucking hands.

It's a whisper against her hair, but Nymphia hears it. “Can I try again?”

Nymphia could hate herself for it for all of forever. She’s prepared to. Jane doesn’t know what she’s doing, and she doesn't either. Nymphia nods anyway.

It's a new world, one of their own making. It's unexplored, uncharted, and they’re venturing into it together, hand in shaking hand. It's dangerous. She’s doing it anyway. She might hate herself for it. It might be the bravest thing she’s ever done.

#take a shot every time jane says something 3 times in a row in one of my fics #also. too many commas. AND WHAT ABOUT IT #i just want you to know i’ve had this one in mind for literal weeks #and i had it in my drafts on AO3 AND I FUCKING LET IT EXPIRE #AND THE WAY I HAD TO WRITE THIS FROM MEMORY… #i love u guys. u better be grateful <3 #WOOOO ANGSTY #with a hopeful ending #because i am sooooo nice ::) #prompt #she writes #planymphia #chappell roan inspired OFC #shoutout 2 my muse also. u inspire me #but not with angst. just with ur brilliance #OK BYE

[n0ts0surel0ck]

Some autistic Sherlock headcanons!!

Based on my own autism

Sherlock hates getting his hair cut. He can’t wear ear defenders and he despises the small talk and how loud the clippers and blow dryers are. So, he generally wears his hair long and/or cuts it himself. Mariana eventually starts cutting it for him, since it equally bothers him when his hair touches his ears or neck. She’s just… not very good at it.

John finds a salon for Sherlock that does sensory appointments. It’s a silent appointment, so he doesn’t have to talk, and John gets him some earplugs to help with the noise. They’re not as good as his ear defenders but they do for the short time it takes to get his hair done. He mostly gets a dry scissor cut so he doesn’t have to be wet and so the clippers don’t touch him. He doesn’t like the vibration. He finds that he actually enjoys the sensation of a blow dryer when the sound isn’t overwhelming him. The heat and the air pressure are soothing.

Sherlock is very particular about fabrics. He despises polyester and other scratchy, synthetic fabrics. Everything he wears has to be 100% cotton. If he got his way, he’d wear an old pair of holey, decade old pajama pants and a jumper everywhere, but he doesn’t. He understands that he has to be presentable. He likes linen, the material doesn’t touch him as much, doesn’t stick to sweat, and allows for plenty of airflow. During spring and summer, and often stretching into fall and winter, he wears a pair of grey linen trousers. When it finally gets too cold, he switches to a pair of cotton ones that have an elastic waist band. He hates when there’s a lot of pressure below his diaphragm, so he keeps it loose. Shirts are mostly tees in the summer, a bit too big so they don’t touch him much. In the winter, he wears big sweatshirts, a half-peacoat, and a green scarf.

He’s been buying men’s high-top converse since he was in middle school and refuses to wear any other shoe. They’re comfortable, allow him to move without being heard, and don’t add to his height. He hates breaking in new ones, and so holds on to the ones he’s wearing for dear life. John has seen him wrap duct tape all the way around his shoe to keep the sole from falling out before.

His bedroom is kept perfectly organized by absolutely agonizing effort. He is particular about that space, since it’s where he rests. He doesn’t work in there. His chemistry equipment is in the living room and he never goes into the room on cases unless John forces him to change clothes. His room is a sensory heaven that he works tirelessly to keep so. Cleaning is difficult for him, but he resets the space every time he leaves it, even when he’s in a rush.

The rest of the apartment is a bust. His executive dysfunction takes over as soon as he crosses the threshold into the hallway. He leaves toothpaste uncapped, cups and plates everywhere, clothes wherever they fall. It drives John insane and he tries to clean up after himself, but it feels like an insurmountable task.

His hyper fixations overtake conversation constantly. Sometimes he and John will engage in conversation that is just… incomprehensible to those around them. John’s talking about the weather and Sherlock’s talking about Pendolino trains. Neither is acknowledging the other’s topic of conversation, but they’re responding to each other in turn and seemingly having a lovely time.

He likes to stim “with” John when something exciting happens. He grabs both of John’s hands so they’re facing each other and has John pull him back and forth quickly. He likes it when John and Mariana mimic a stim back to him, especially vocal ones. When the three of them are in the office together, it’s just an echo chamber of mouth pops and buzzes.

Sherlock respects the fuck out of routine. His in unconventional, but he follows it almost religiously. This means he respects other’s routines just as aggressively. He never moves John’s items, and if he borrows anything, he puts it back exactly where it was, position and all. He noticed John folding laundry in a certain way and now, if he steals one of John’s shirts and washes it after, he folds it in that certain way.

#sherlock & co #sherlock and co #sherlock holmes #john watson #mariana ametxazurra

[onceinawhilemoon]

The Tale of The Empty House Quest and The Power of Imagination

There's something that I haven't noticed before in the ending credits of SHCO.

The credits show Stonewood Manor in a “past vs. present” sequence. We see the rooms as they were in the past: vibrant, warm, and beautiful, before they transform into the present: dark, cold, and ramshackled.

But the present here isn't just the present; it's Sherlock’s present while he was staying in the manor, and we can see ALL THE AUCTIONED PIECES THAT WE'VE BEEN BUYING THROUGHOUT THE GAME and even that sketch of Ms. Nini's fugly thief in Sherlock's room.

Like, I did wonder how Sherlock managed to refurbish and repaint every room and make them look as good as new all by himself with just a scant few items of furniture, but I never really gave it much thought, simply attributed it to game logic and rolled with it.

BUT THAT'S THE THING. He never really did.

I did wonder how Sherlock put his hand through the lit fireplace to retrieve Mycroft's key, and didn't give it much thought either because again, game logic, but that fireplace was never lit to begin with.

To Sherlock, when he set to “refurbish” the manor–which entailed him buying whatever auctioned items he could find still being sold around Cordona because like a decade had passed–and to us playing as him as we progressed in the Tale of the Empty House quest, the house started to look warm and colorful and beautiful:

In reality, though, they were just those items that he restored here and there and everything else HE WAS SEEING IN HIS OWN MIND and the ending credits show us what the manor actually looked like while we were in it:

Which means that the entire time that we were running around the house with Jon and that beautiful soundtrack as we reminisced and lovingly renovated and decorated it with trophies and case memorabilia, we were running around that same dark, cold, decaying building from the start of the game, except for those little additions here and there...

And if you look at the restored items, you’ll notice how the family portrait is still unveiled, the carpet isn't fully rolled out, Jon’s bed isn't positioned against the wall like it should have been, and there's a covered painting atop the closet in Sherlock's room that didn't originally belong there.

Everything that we reclaimed from the shops looks messily and hurriedly put together–Sherlock is a one man after all and a very busy one–and yet, his creativity and imagination were powerful enough to fill in the rest.

All this time we spent in the “refurbished” Stonewood Manor, we were simply living inside a memory. We were in Sherlock's mind seeing a product of his imagination so vivid that it created a real sense of presence in the revived manor–as real as Jon was to him–despite the actual state of disrepair.

I don't know why it never occurred to me before. It's pretty obvious now, and it makes so much sense; there was no way Sherlock was going to find everything that was auctioned still being sold and intact (and he didn't, the items he found were like 10 or 13 tops) and make the house look like that all by himself. He could have hired people to repaint and clean and bought similar furniture, I guess, but that's just far-fetched to me. He barely even spent time in the manor to put all of this extra effort on renovations.

I sobbed uncontrollably when I realized this sgsjiwise (the ending credits already make me so weak, especially with that damned music UGH).

I don't know. There's something so bittersweetly pure about him trying to reclaim the space that was once his own with whatever minimal resources he had available. Whatever he couldn't find, he simply substituted with creativity and imagination, and that was enough to imbue the space with warmth and a real sense of home sweet home. It's almost reminiscent of how a child plays. I think it's a beautiful testament to the power of imagination, how it has the ability to transform environments and create a sense of belonging.

And then, just like 10 years ago as if he still lived there, he went around and put up posters and trophies and memorabilia, despite knowing that he wasn't staying there for long, and that once he left, it was forever. It's like he wanted to experience what it was like living in the manor one last time, leaving one last imprint saying, “I was here.”

I wonder what Mycroft thought of it all when he came back later to check on Sherlock. He must have at least gone through the entire ground floor in order to get to the back garden, so he must have seen all the restored items and the very personal traces of his brother's short-lived presence scattered among the junk and clutter of their dilapidated old home. I imagine they starkly stood out not just because they were not supposed to be there, but because of how they were like little touches of life in an otherwise dead and quiet space that'd been dead and quiet for a long time..

I really admire how FW managed to set up the sense of nostalgia in this game. Not just nostalgia, but “vicarious nostalgia”. I kept having that wistful longing for places I haven't personally been and experiences I haven't personally lived but felt very connected to through Sherry's (and Jon's) memories and stories (there's like a German word for this phenomenon I'm pretty sure but I forgor) but I guess SHCO does tab into something for all of us, right? Childhood innocence and memories, imaginary friends, leaving your childhood home and coming back years later... There's a little something there for everyone to relate to, I think.

#WHO KEEPS PUTTING ONIONS IN MY FUN DETECTIVE GAME #sherlock holmes chapter one #shco diaries #thoughts & rambles