#I’ll post the full one once my bookshelf is squared away

[ace-n-revelry]

Καλή χρονιά

#these filters are fun #dionysos #dionysus #shrine #I’ll post the full one once my bookshelf is squared away

[snowdice]

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 97]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45

I have no idea how long I’ll work. I’m currently stuck waiting for a ride. So *big shrug.*

Chapter 46 (Patton)

Patton hadn’t been aware until Virgil came along what exactly Mr. Deknis did in the winter. Most of his staff had gone home or had winter tasks unrelated to gardening to do, but Mr. Deknis and a few choice members of his staff still apparently did a lot despite not being able to plant anything.

He frequently invited Virgil to join in on these tasks, and Virgil often accepted. Patton wasn’t sure why he seemed to enjoy things like deep cleaning gardening tools and checking over equipment, but he did, so Patton was glad.

“Alright, that’s enough of that for today,” Mr. Deknis said once Virgil finished brushing off the paste that had been applied to remove rust from a hoe.

“Are you sure?” Virgil asked. “I have more time to work. Even if you need to go, I can still work on something. Unless you don’t want me messing with things without supervision…”

“I’m not telling you to leave, Virgil,” Mr. Deknis said with a half-smile. “I just thought you might want to help me out with something else today.”

“Oh, okay. Sure,” Virgil agreed, sounding just a touch excited.

“Let’s put all of this away,” Mr. Deknis said.

Virgil and Patton helped him put things away, though Patton felt more like a hindrance as both Mr. Deknis and Virgil seemed to know exactly where everything in the room went whereas Patton wasn’t sure about some things.

Patton didn’t always come with Virgil when he was helping Mr. Deknis. Sometimes Logan would come instead, and Virgil had been coming alone with increasing frequency over the last month or so.

He seemed to like it. He always seemed to look forward to spending time with Mr. Deknis and not only because Mr. Deknis often bribed him with snacks of dried or pickled fruits and vegetables.

Once the tools and cleaning equipment were stored away, Mr. Deknis led them down the hall. Mr. Deknis had an entire hall to himself on the first floor of the castle which included his bedroom as well as places to dry and can things.

Where he was leading them now was a small study next to his bedroom. Patton had never been there before and by the way Virgil was curiously looking around, neither had he. It was a cute little area with a small desk and a bookshelf full of books that seemed to all be on plants.

“I’m starting to think about what I want to grow in the gardens next year,” Mr. Deknis explained as they crammed into the small office. He pointed to a large piece of paper on his desk.  “This is the plan at the moment, though it’s nowhere near finalized.”

He pointed at an empty square sketched on the large paper. “I was thinking I wanted to plant something new here, but I don’t know what. It’s just a small patch between the vegetable and flower garden. It’s sort of by the one three teared fountain. I usually use that patch for newer plants, so it could be a vegetable or a flower. I was thinking you could help me pick out something to put there.”

Virgil looked up at him, eyes wide.

Mr. Deknis smiled at him. “Would you like to?”

“I…” Virgil said. “I wouldn’t have any idea what to put.”

“Well, I have a few different books of plants you can flip through,” he said. “Any idea what kind of plant you’d like to grow?”

Virgil shrugged.

“I’ll just give you a few for now,” Mr. Deknis said, selecting three different books. “If you can’t find anything you like, just let me know and I’ll give you another book. There are plenty of different types of things to grow. This is just a start.”

“Thank you,” Virgil said, eyes staring down at the field of flowers drawn on the cover of the book on the top of the stack in his arms.

They spent the afternoon on the floor of Mr. Deknis’ living room. The gardener made them some lavender tea and let them eat some candied walnuts and then retreated to an armchair to read his own book about plants.

Patton and Virgil laid on the floor flipping through the different books. Virgil still wasn’t very good at reading, so Patton would read the descriptions of the plants that caught his eye to him. One of the books was about different vegetables and one was about herbs, which of course, did catch Virgil’s attention a bit because of his love for edible things. Yet the pictures of flowers seemed to interest him the most.

They ended up eventually looking only in the flower book. A while after that, it became clear that he preferred flowers in the orchid family verses composite flowers because he liked the shape of their petals better. So, then they focused more on looking at the different types of orchids that existed.

“There are a lot more types of orchids than I knew there were,” Patton said.

“It’s the second largest family of flowers,” Mr. Deknis told them from his chair. “There’s a lot of different kinds, over 28,000 species at least. Vanilla comes from an orchid plant. If there are none in that book you especially want, I could get a book specifically on orchids.”

Virgil, having already flipped through the book multiple times looking at the orchids in it, looked up at him with a bit of excitement in his eyes. “I would like that,” he said. “Yes, please.”

Mr. Deknis’ eyes softened on him, and he got to his feet. “I’ll go see what I have in the office.”

“Getting to grow something in the garden is exciting,” Patton said once Mr. Deknis left.

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed. “It is.”

It was very nice of Mr. Deknis too, Patton thought. He didn’t have to offer to let Virgil plant something, in fact, him happening to have an empty patch in his plans was probably a little bit of a fib, but it was a nice one.

Virgil liked plants, and it would give him something to look forward to over the winter and then something to do in the spring and summer. Honestly, Patton couldn’t wait to see him experience the castle in the spring. He’d already loved it in the fall, let alone when things started to grow. Patton had a feeling he’d be spending a lot more time outside this summer.

Mr. Deknis came back with a good-sized book filled with pictures of flowers. “Why don’t you take this with you for tonight,” he suggested. “It’s almost dinner time. We can talk about it more when you come to help me again on Saturday.”

“Thank you,” Virgil said, taking the book. “I will see you Saturday then.”

“See you Saturday, Virgil,” he said with a smile.

  Chapter 47 (Logan)

Logan and Virgil had gotten into the habit of having reading lessons in the afternoons 3 times a week. They would sit in the small library near the royal wing for an hour or two and do different things related to increasing Virgil’s literacy.

Logan had started with just teaching him letters, but he’d memorized those long ago at this point. Now, Logan would spend most of the time having him read simpler books out loud and correcting any mistakes he made along the way. Improvement was surprisingly fast, though in truth, Logan hadn’t had any measure for how long it would take a teenager to learn to read and Virgil was quite dedicated.

Usually, their lessons ended with Logan reading a more complicated book while letting him follow along. The last week, they had been reading the library book Virgil had chosen for himself, Into the Mist. It was an interesting book to read to Virgil, though Logan was unsure if it would be as interesting if he were to read it on his own. In truth, it was a good, but rather ordinary fantasy book. Virgil, however, seemed incredibly fascinated by it. He had never heard a high fantasy story before in his life and he was constantly comparing and contrasting things in the book to things he understood in real life as well as asking Logan about them.

It also became clear that Virgil did not quite understand real life fully. He attributed the same amount of awe to hearing the ocean being described as he did to the main character’s climb up the sky to a cloud city in hopes of saving his love interest’s life. In fact, he seemed more in awe of Logan’s explanation of the ocean since it actually existed.

Logan had a sudden intense urge to plan a trip to see an ocean at some point in the future. Lamir was a costal country and its castle sat on top of a cliff that overlooked the sea. It would be easy enough to take a trip to their ally’s country at some point.

“So, cloud mites don’t exist?” Virgil confirmed yet again.

“No,” Logan said. “They don’t. In fact, their existence would go against all magical laws since they are sentient without being alive.”

“But crabs do?” Virgil asked.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Crabs do not go against the natural order of things,” Logan said.

“But why?” Virgil asked.

“I… don’t understand the question.”

“They don’t have the right number of legs.”

“W-what do you mean by that?” Logan asked, confused.

“Animals can only have an even number of legs on either side.”

“No,” Logan said. Virgil nodded vigorously. “What about beetles? Those have 6 legs. Three on each side.”

“But beetles are bug,” Virgil pointed out.

“Bugs are animals,” Logan argued.

“No, they’re not.”

His face was so serious, and he was so sure, that it was funny. “Bugs are animals,” Logan said.

Virgil seemed confused by this. “But they have 6 legs.”

Logan couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Virgil, what do you think and animal is?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Virgil said, pouting slightly at being laughed at. Logan leaned over to bump their shoulder together which seemed to pacify him. “Cows. Birds. Frogs.”

“I think we need to get you a tutor. You are missing some fundamental building blocks in your education.”

He huffed, peering at the book.

“It’s no fault of your own,” Logan assured. “You are not born with information like that. People were just negligent in teaching you these things.”

Virgil nodded. “That actually reminds me of something.”

“Mmm?” Logan asked.

“There’s something I need to teach you.”

“And what would that be?” Logan asked.

“Survival instincts.”

“What?”

Virgil slammed his hand down on Logan’s desk. “You have no survival instincts,” he declared. “I bet you don’t even know what hemlock tastes like.”

“Isn’t that poisonous.”

“Yes,” Virgil said.

“Then of course I don’t know what it tastes like.”

“Exactly! That’s the problem.”

“I don’t need to know what poison tastes like, Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes, you do,” Virgil argued. “It’s an important skill.”

“I think your view of what constitutes as an ‘important skill’ may be skewed,” Logan said.

“You’re a prince,” Virgil said. “Knowing about poisons is an important skill for you.”

“It’s really not though.”

“You’re at war,” Virgil reminded, “and they already tried to assassinate your father. Do you think they’re not going to send someone else when your father is alive at winter’s end, and they’ve heard no word from their assassin? Do you think if they realize you’re not easily manipulatable, they won’t come for you too?”

“Well, I mean…” Logan said. “You do have a point there.”

“And you need to learn how to climb things and catch things.”

“Why do I need to know how to catch things?”

“We’ve already had this discussion,” Virgil said. “In case someone throws a knife at you.”

Wait. When had they had that conversation?

“And while we’re on the topic of knives, you need to know how to use a knife effectively.”

“I know how to use a knife,” Logan claimed even though he knew he didn’t know how to use a knife in the way Virgil was talking about.

Virgil, despite having no concept of taxonomic classification, was no fool. “Chopping things for potions doesn’t count,” Virgil said. “I’m talking stabbing lessons. For you and Patton, though to be honest, Patton has an advantage already over you when it comes to using weapons.”

“Why does he…” Logan thought. “Because he managed to get a hit on you with a cookie sheet one time?”

“His reflexes are better,” Virgil said, “as well as his ability to use his environment to his advantage. You’re always completely oblivious about what’s going on around you.”

“Excuse me. I am incredibly observant,” said Logan.

“How many chairs are in the dinning room we walked through to get here two hours ago?” Virgil asked.

Logan thought for a moment. “I’m not sure.”

“Exactly! You walk by them every day and you don’t even know how many chairs there are in that room.”

“I have no idea what that has to do with anything.”

“How would you know if someone tampered with the chairs if you don’t know how many of them there are or their positions.”

“Tampered with the chairs?” Logan asked. “What are you talking about? I filter out unnecessary information. That doesn’t mean I’m unobservant.”

“Yes, it does,” Virgil said. “Plus, half the time you don’t even know where I am when you know I’m in the same room as you,” Virgil said.

“Well, that’s because you climb on top of things and hide in walls!” Logan said. “That’s hardly fair.”

“You mean I’m quiet and good at hiding like… an assassin might be.”

Logan pursed his lips. Virgil tilted his head and smiled at him. “I am plenty observant,” Logan insisted once again.

“Prove it,” Virgil said.

“And how should I do that?” Logan asked. “Beyond simply memorizing the furniture arrangements?”

Virgil shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll get an opportunity soon.”

Logan wished he would have been observant enough in that moment to notice the determined spark in his eyes.

  Chapter 48 (Thomas)

Thomas was leaving his office when he ran into his son. Or more accurately, his son almost ran into him. “Is everything alright?” Thomas asked.

“I…” Logan said. His hand came out to grasp Thomas’s shirt sleeve, odd behavior for him at least at this age. He used to do such things when he was very small. “Yes,” he said anyway. “Everything is perfectly fine.” He glanced behind himself down the hall.

Thomas looked at him and then looked down the hallway, concerned by his strange behavior. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” Logan said, but he wasn’t letting go of Thomas’s shirt.

“You seem a bit anxious, Logan,” Thomas said.

“I am not,” Logan denied, releasing his shirt. Thomas caught a glimpse of something moving above their heads. The hallway Thomas’s office was in had large pillars along the outer wall that really no one should be able to scale despite there technically being grooves in them. Yet, there Virgil clung to the chapiter of one of them. Even more bewildering, he was gripping a pouch of some kind in his teeth.

They met eyes briefly. Virgil tilted his head at Thomas. Then, he removed one hand from the pillar. How was he up there? He made a motion with his hand that seemed to be telling Thomas to step back.

Thomas looked back at his son. Logan hadn’t noticed Virgil, too busy glancing behind him and not looking up. Thomas looked back up at Virgil and took a big step back. The moment he did, Virgil grabbed the bottom of the pouch with his free hand and let go with his teeth. The pouch flipped upside down dropping its contents right onto Logan’s head.

Logan gave a high-pitched shriek that Thomas didn’t think he’d ever heard from him before. “Virgil!” he yelled, now absolutely soaked.

“Learn to look up,” Virgil said seriously, still clinging to the pillar.

“I hate you,” Logan replied.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean in anger,” Thomas reminded. He was a bit worried Virgil may overreact to Logan saying things like that to him, though he seemed perfectly calm at the moment.

Logan scowled at Thomas. “You’re on his side?! He just dumped water on my head!”

“He needs to be trained to be more observant!” Virgil said.

Logan turned his scowl to Virgil. “Come down here, you intolerable creature! I’m done with your so-called training!”

“And what would you do if I did come down?” Virgil asked while arching an eyebrow, wholly unconcerned. “Quote facts about animals at me?”

Thomas was unsure what about that comment angered Logan, but it apparently did.

“You little…”

“Boys,” Thomas interrupted. “What’s going on here?”

They both immediately started speaking at once, doing their best to talk over each other. Thomas didn’t catch much of either rants except something about ‘training’ and Virgil ‘stalking the halls’ and an “exploding muffin.”

“Okay, okay,” Thomas said, putting a hand up to tell both of them to be quiet. “One at a time. Virgil first.”

“Really?” Logan asked.

“Logan,” Thomas scolded.

He mumbled something under his breath, but he did quiet down.

“Virgil,” Thomas started again. “What’s going on?”

“I’m training him,” Virgil said.

“Training him?” Thomas asked. “Training him for what?”

“For life,” Virgil answered. “He isn’t observant enough.”

“Ah,” Thomas said, still fairly confused. “And how are you training him?”

“Right now, we’re doing situational awareness training,” Virgil said.

“And how does that translate to you dumping water on his head?” Thomas asked.

“He wouldn’t have gotten water on his head if he’d noticed me,” Virgil answered, seriously. Thomas tried not to laugh at the look on his face.

“That is, perhaps true,” Thomas said. “However, dumping water on people’s heads is not nice. Perhaps there is a nicer way to do this training?”

“People trying to kill them won’t be nice,” Virgil said.

“No one is trying to kill Logan,” Thomas said.

Virgil just pursed his lips. “Maybe,” Virgil said. “Not yet.”

Thomas was unsure where this fear had come from. Perhaps he had heard about the successful assassination of Lamir’s late queen. Thomas hadn’t exactly publicized the fact that the queen had been killed and not simply died when he’d returned, but he had told certain people including Logan and Patton. It was possible one of them had let it slip and Virgil had freaked out about it.

“Well,” Thomas said. “It still isn’t nice to ruin someone’s day over a threat that doesn’t exist yet.”

Virgil just huffed at him. He was being surprisingly petulant which actually made Thomas smile just a tad. He’d not even been able to imagine this side of him a month ago. “Why don’t you come down here?” Thomas suggested. “We can talk through the issue and come to a compromise.”

Virgil stared down at him with skeptical eyes.

“Perhaps with tea and cookies?” Thomas suggested.

Virgil tilted his head and slid down the pillar until his feet touched the floor. “What kind of cookies?” he asked.

“We’ll have to see what Helen has made lately,” Thomas said. He turned to Logan and frowned. “You should probably change before you get sick being wet and in the cold.”

Logan nodded and shivered a little bit while rubbing his own arms. Despite the castle being warm, it was no fun to be completely soaked during the winter. Thomas wasn’t even sure if Virgil would have thought to not use freezing cold water. Even with heating elements, the water in the castle could be very cold if you didn’t wait for a bit for it to warm up. Thomas didn’t think Virgil would have thought too far ahead in this ‘training.’

“I’ll take Virgil down to the kitchen and get some tea and cookies for all of us,” Thomas told Logan.

He gave his son a look trying to communicate ‘I’ll talk to him.’ Logan pursed his lips, but nodded, seeming to receive the message.

“Why don’t we meet you in the royal dining room, so the conversation is more private?” Thomas suggested. It would be a much calmer environment than the main dining hall or the kitchens.

“Sure,” Logan agreed, turning to walk off in the direction of the royal wing. The poor thing was huddled in on himself and cold.

Thomas looked over at Virgil and smiled at him softly as Logan left. “Let’s go see what cookies Helen has ready,” he suggested.

  Chapter 49 (Virgil)

“So,” King Thomas said as they walked through the halls towards the kitchens. The path to the kitchens from pretty much anywhere in the castle was familiar to Virgil now. Food was abundant in this place and there were no restrictions on Virgil eating it. There were no restrictions on anyone in the castle eating it, unless you counted Patton’s mother insisting people eat a more varied diet than only cookies. Personally, while Virgil did like cookies, he had no complaints over that matter. “You and Logan seem to be having a disagreement,” Thomas continued.

“I’m right,” Virgil insisted, and he was.

 However, explaining why Virgil was right to the king was a bit difficult when Virgil was hiding why he knew Logan developing survival instincts was important. It was clear that Virgil did not get his point across correctly because the king laughed slightly.

“Everyone believes they are right during a disagreement,” Thomas said. “I’m sure Logan has his own ideas about who is correct.”

Virgil frowned at him. “I am.”

“Perhaps you are both right,” the king suggested.

“But…”

“You cannot dump water on people’s heads in the castle hallways, Virgil,” the king scolded, but it was a gentle scolding and Virgil forced himself to not climb the wall and disappear. He had a point to make. “Especially not in the winter.”

 “He’s the prince,” Virgil argued. “He needs to know how to protect himself in case of danger.”

“That is true,” Thomas conceded. “You are probably correct that we should be making sure the royal family is well protected and can protect themselves. We have been safe for a long time, but there is always a risk.” He seemed contemplative for a moment. “However,” he continued. “The way you are going about it is not correct in my opinion. Clearly, it is not in Logan’s opinion as well.”

“But…”

“You risk making more problems than solving with your strategy,” the king said.

 “Like what?” Virgil asked.

“Well,” Thomas said. “Getting someone wet when it’s cold is never a good idea even inside a castle.” Virgil… could agree with that. “You also could accidently ruin something important by getting water on it if you don’t give warning. Even if you are doing something besides pouring water on his head, if you continue to do things to ‘train’ Logan in the same vein, he is likely to become more paranoid than vigilant.”

“What’s the difference?” Virgil asked.

“Being vigilant means you are prepared for danger around every corner. Being paranoid means you are expecting danger around every corner.”

 “There doesn’t seem like there’s much of a difference,” Virgil said.

“There is,” said the king, as they pushed through a set of double doors. “Take any of the royal guards,” he gestured subtly at the two people guarding the room to the hall they’d just come from. “If a guard is constantly worried that every little sound is a danger and every new person is an enemy, they will waste all of their energy and time chasing down stray rodents and interrogating maids that decided to walk a different path to their destinations. When real danger does appear, they may be too worn out or distracted to react.”

 “However, if the guards are calm and instead of instantly overreacting to every small thing, they make a note of it in case it ends up being something they need to react to later, then they will be prepared to act if there are any actual threats.”

Virgil bit his tongue to stop from mentioning that he’d managed to sneak by the guards to the royal wing the first night he was here. A boy with a cookie sheet had done more against him that King Thomas’s guards.

“That’s why I make sure everyone who works for the castle, especially the guards have not only time off to sleep and eat, but time off for leisure where they are not expected to be hypervigilant.”

 “All people need to have a time and place to feel safe, even the ones whose jobs it is to keep others safe. Logan’s job is not the same as the guards who keep the people in this castle physically safe, but he is training to be king. He needs time to perform his duties and to relax between them. Harassing him all day with survival training is not going to help him.”

“People don’t need to feel safe,” Virgil argued. “They need to be safe.”

The king stopped walking and turned to him. Virgil couldn’t help but cringe a bit as the king studied him.

 “You haven’t had a chance to feel safe very often in your life, have you?” the king asked.

Virgil shrugged, looking away.

“What would make you feel safe?” Thomas asked.

“Logan being safe,” Virgil said.

“Logan is safe, Virgil,” the king tried to argue.

Virgil scowled. “I don’t trust your guards. Even the best guard won’t be able to help if Logan gets trapped alone with someone. He needs to learn self-defense.”

“Well, I’m already planning to up security in the castle when spring comes. Would me asking if he’d be willing to do self-defense training with someone help?”

 He thought about it for a few moments. “Maybe,” he said, lips pursed, “but what if the person you get to teach him isn’t any good at it?” Honestly, Virgil wasn’t sure if he could trust anyone in this entire kingdom to do proper training.

Then again… Prijaznia had been holding its own against Mocnejsi for… Virgil didn’t actually know how long. He just knew that he’d always remembered there being a war going on between them for his entire life. And… while no one had ever actually said it out loud, Prijaznia was probably winning. It’s why Mocnejsi was going for things like assassinations and tricks instead of normal warfare.

 Not to mention Prijaznia was less… war torn. Sure, he’d been living in the castle recently, but even in his travel to the castle, people seemed to be a bit better off.

So, maybe there were some people in the kingdom who knew what they were doing when fighting. However, Virgil wasn’t going to trust the king to pick out who should train Logan.

“I’m sure we can find someone who is up to your standards,” the king said, though the curl to his lip seemed to indicate he wasn’t taking Virgil seriously. Of course, as far as he knew, Virgil was just a random kid his friend had befriended, so that was probably fair.

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It was a bit frustrating to not be able to tell Logan’s dad why Virgil was worried or how he knew how to help, but Virgil wouldn’t dare give him even the slightest hint of the truth. He respected the king. He was starting to like the king. Yet, Virgil was not a fool.

The king obviously misinterpreted the disgruntled expression on his face. “Maybe you can also do some of your training,” he said, “but there has to be compromise. You and Logan need to talk about it without fighting before anything goes any further. I can mediate. We’ll talk about what things might be okay and what things are off limits.”

“Okay,” Virgil said, still not happy, but knowing there wasn’t much else he could do.

“Okay,” the king agreed. They were now at the door to the kitchens “Now, let’s get those cookies.”

  Chapter 50 (Patton)

Patton was starting to get excited. There had been a small snow storm a couple of weeks before, but since then, the temperature had been on the rise with no sign of more snow on the horizon. It was still a bit chilly, but Patton only really felt the need for a light coat instead of any more extreme winter wear. It was great!

Usually everyone including Patton was relieved as Winter turned to Spring, but this year, Patton had even more of a reason to be happy about it. Virgil had gotten a tiny bit more comfortable going outside over the winter, but he still didn’t like it too much.

 Patton could almost feel the change in him as the warmer months drew nearer like a flower getting ready to bloom. He was happier and more energetic. Mr. Deknis was getting things ready to start planting as soon as his seasonal workers started to arrive in the coming weeks. In the meantime, Virgil helped him get ready with a lot of enthusiasm.

It was probably the warmest it had been today. It wasn’t nearly summer, but Patton wouldn’t call it cold. So, while Logan was off doing princely duties in the afternoon, Patton decided to test if it was warm enough now for Virgil to willingly go outside.

 Patton found Virgil in Mr. Deknis’s rooms a couple of hours after lunch, figuring he’d be done with whatever task they were doing that day by then. Patton ended up being correct as when Mr. Deknis let him into his living room, Virgil was busy flipping through yet another book of orchids, still trying to decide which he wanted to grow.

“Hi, Virgil,” Patton said, walking into the room with Princess Marisol on his heels. She had been lazing in a sunny spot by a nearby window but had gotten up to follow him as he walked by.

“Hi,” Virgil replied. He closed the book and set it aside.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to the dovecote with me,” Patton said. “I wanted to send a letter.”

 Virgil thought about it for a moment, and Patton would swear he was using some secret weather sensing mechanism in his head to check the weather before saying, “Okay.”

“If you two are going to the dovecote, would you mind taking a letter for me as well?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Of course,” Patton agreed.

Mr. Deknis turned to grab a sealed letter off his desk. “It’s for my daughter,” Mr. Deknis said. “The handlers should know the right pigeon to give it to.”

Patton nodded and took it.

“You have a daughter?” Virgil asked, sounding more surprised than Patton would have expected.

 “Yes, Darlene,” Mr. Deknis said. “I’ve talked about her. I thought I’d mentioned she was my daughter.”

“I didn’t know you could have children.”

The statement clearly rang with truth to Mr. Deknis’s ears, but it didn’t make him look any less confused. “Why would you think that?” he asked.

Patton’s eyes widened as he recalled a conversation from months ago where Virgil had been confused about why Mr. Deknis was allowed to be a gardener when he was a multrum. Patton didn’t know much about how multrums were treated in Mocnejsi, but it hadn’t sounded very nice and Patton could draw some conclusions about why Virgil thought that. The problem of course was that Patton was pretty sure very few people in Prijaznia would be confused about Mr. Deknis being allowed to have a kid.

#proofread stories #not writing

[goddessofthundathighs]

INTERLUDE I: NOLA MEETS ERIK

July 2003

“Are you sure you want to go to school all the way in Los Angeles?” Papa Simon asked from my doorway as I began packing up my room.

“Dad, we’ve had this conversation already. This is my dream school and they gave me a full-ride scholarship. How could I possibly turn it down?”

“I know, Skybear, but Papa Ruben and I are gonna miss you so much. You’ve never gone this far away before.”

“You’re right, I haven’t but that’s all the more reason for me to go, right? I have dreams and things that I want to accomplish and unfortunately, I can’t accomplish them here.”

“Simon, leave that girl alone. She knows what she’s doing and we’re only a phone call and a plane ride away should she ever decide she wants to come back home, right baby?” I smiled wide, knowing my Papa Ruben would always come through with the defense.

“Right, Daddy. I love you both.”

“And we love you too, sweetheart. Let’s get these bags packed.”

----------------

Present Day

“Sky!”

“What?!” My head snapped up quickly, completely distorting the design I was currently working on. I was testing a 3D dildo generator for my website. The tool would basically allow potential shoppers to design their own dildo or strap-on and it would be 3D printed and shipped to them. Thanks to Shea and her outburst, mine was now a whopping 15 inches long.. whoops.

“My bad, didn’t mean to scare you, you just didn’t answer my question.”

“Repeat it, I was working on something.”

“I asked how you and Dr. Nigga met. Y’all strike me as failed lovers.” I laughed at her comparison. She was partially right, but there was more to it than that.

“We weren’t lovers, but we have messed around. We went to the same college, The Sigmund Freud School of Psychology and Psychosexuality in LA. He was a sophomore, and I was technically a freshman although I had already taken all of my gen-ed classes thanks to a dual enrollment program at my high school. He was helping the underclassmen move into their dorms and as soon as my dad laid eyes on him, he goes ‘He looks like his dick ruins lives’.” O’Shea cackled, nodding her head in agreeance.

“Was that Papa Ruben? I feel like Papa Ruben said that and Papa Ruben is never wrong.” I nodded, because she was right. One thing about my dad, he could always spot a snake in the grass and his accuracy was unmatched.

“That was definitely Papa Ruben and all me and Papa Simon did was laugh because although it was hot outside, he still looked like a super fuck nigga. He had on a black muscle shirt, body and tattoos gleaming because of sweat, black and red basketball shorts with matching Jordans and that damn Cuban around his neck.”

“Wait that nigga got tattoos?!”

“Yesh.”

“Did he have the fronts back then too?”

“Yes ma’am, but he had top and bottom ones. A bitch was hot!” I explained, fanning myself. “Anyway, he comes over and introduces himself to my dads before taking my trunk of clothes from Papa Simon. He smiled that pretty ass smile at me and in true Erik fashion, tried to flirt. Now mind you, I definitely thought this nigga was fine as fuck, but back then I was still figuring out who I was and what I liked so I lowkey dismissed him. Not on purpose, but it happened. To my surprise, he simply laughed it off and continued helping me take my stuff to my room. He even mounted my tv and showed me where my classes were. Like he was a genuinely nice guy. Fast forward to the second semester of my freshman year, we have the same psychology class because, again, I had already taken all my gen-ed classes. We were almost always paired together on projects because of our intelligence, another reason his ass stayed trying to holla. One day he asked me why I never responded to his advances, seeing as how it was clear that I was feeling him. Which I was, but I was also feeling someone else too, I just didn’t know how to tell him. I avoided him and the question for about a week until he cornered me in the library and demanded that I give him an answer. I smiled sweetly, looked him square in the eye and told him that I wanted to fuck his girlfriend.” I looked over at O’Shea and she looked back at me like I had grown 3 heads.

“Bitch no you didn’t tell him that!”

“What? He asked, hell. This was like the second semester of my sophomore year and by this time I had had a few girls and boys and I realized that I preferred women because they were softer and I understood them better. I didn’t and still don’t have time for the fragile ego of a man.”

“So what did he say to that?” I paused briefly, thinking back to that night in the library.

“Did you seriously just tell me that the reason you don’t wanna fuck wit a nigga is because you wanna fuck my girl? What kinda shit is that, Nola?”

“You asked. I figured you wanted my honest answer.” He kept me pinned against the bookshelf, his eyes searching mine for any hint of a lie. He finally let me go once he found none.

“You something else, Nola.”

“My parents named me Skylar.”

“And your best friend named you Nola. See you in class.” He winked at me, flashing that million dollar smile and walked out of the library, leaving me a little more than hot and bothered.

“He laughed and told me that I was something serious and let me go on about my business. At some point during my junior year we developed a friends with benefits type relationship because 1.) We were both single and wanted to remain single and 2.) His dick was very bomb. I even taught him how to eat pussy.

“You taught him that?!”

“Yes ma’am. At first all he would do was rub and suck the clit aggressively. I was the one that taught him that he had to lick every part of the pussy, get it nice and wet and flick the clit with his tongue.”

“Ok, you can stop talking now. I haven’t talked to this nigga all day and I intend to keep it that way,” Shea interrupted, crossing her legs.

“Papa Simon was kinda disappointed that we didn’t end up together, but he also loved my ex, so I guess it balanced out.”

“I was meaning to ask, what happened with that?”

“That’s another story for another day,” I concluded, not wanting to take a dive into my feels especially since I had so much to work on.

“Ok so tomorrow then?” She tried again. I shook my head, knowing this conversation wouldn’t die until I spilled the beans about Monica.

“Fine, I’ll tell you tomorrow, now tell me about your date with Fathead.” Shea rolled her eyes, as she had been actively avoiding this conversation, not wanting to relieve the horrific incident that she was sure almost ended whatever it was she had going with Erik.

“It started off fairly well with him teasing me about how much I love ice cream and him calling me a child because I wanted to watch Hercules.”

“Fuckin’ child,” I responded out of habit.

“Shut up! That’s the same thing he said!” O’Shea pouted, crossing her arms over her chest for further emphasis of her point.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Please continue,” I coaxed, rubbing her arm to let her know I was done being an ass.

“Anyway, we basically had a whole Disney marathon. We watched Hercules, then Mulan, then The Emperor’s New Groove and were getting dummy high the whole time. So midway through Kuzco’s shenanigans, I tried my luck with him again because I saw how mellow he got when he was high. Like I was even able to fully appreciate how good he looked when he wasn’t in a suit and tie. Your best friend is a work of art, sis.”

“Oh, I know,” I said with a smirk.

“So I’m just sitting there, practically drooling over the bulge in his pants and this nigga looks at me with the straightest face and asks if I’m gonna suck it or just stare at it.”

“And I oop! That wasn’t Erik, sis. That was Killmonger.”

“Who?”

“Don’t worry about it, finish the story.”

“So, not one to back down from a challenge, I dropped to my knees and started doing the Lord’s work. He’s loving the shit, too. He’s cursing and moaning and praising me, telling me how much of a good job I’m doing. The shit was great. Then just as I was finding my groove, I fucked up.”

“What you mean you fucked up?” O’Shea paused and I could tell that she was having a hard time continuing, but she did anyway.

“I’m not sure how it happened, but his dick got caught in my braces.” I didn’t want to, but I simply could not help the screech that left my lips at the mental image of Erik losing his shit about his dick being caught in her braces.

“Did he cry?” I managed to choke out through my laughing fit.

“No, but he was pissed. Like so pissed that he got up and left.” I stopped laughing then. How dare he leave her in such a vulnerable state knowing what he knows about her little personalities and how they operate. Shea must’ve caught my mood change and quickly came to his defense.

“He made up for it, though! He came and picked me up and we talked about it and then we went and got ice cream.”

“Of course he made up with ice cream.”

“Aaand he took me to Disneyland and got me this.” She held up her wrist so that I could see the charm bracelet in all of its glory.

“Oh that’s beautiful. I’ll be back in a little bit, I have a 12:00 meeting with Dr. Nigga.” I quickly grabbed my bag and keys and headed out the door. Dr. Stevens and I had a few things that needed discussing.

TAGS:

@vikkidc @thadelightfulone @sydneebleu @trevantesbrat @madamslayyy @chaneajoyyy @jozigrrl @thehomierobbstark @amethyst1993 @iamrheaspeaks @mareethequeen @forbeautyandlife @whatmoredoyouwantamericaa @blowmymbackout @wakanda-inspired @yaachtynoboat711 @nickidub718 @heyauntieeee @princessstevens @bartierbakarimobisson @xaviera108 @alexundefined @raysunshine78 @dameshaemonique @laketaj24 @youreadthatright @theogbadbitch @bugngiz @amirra88 @post-woke @im5ftbutmythroat66 @blackpinup22 @beaut1fulone-blog @chefjessypooh @queengidiva619 @love-me22 @pending-lostheart @blessyd-bthyname @unholyxcumbucket @eclecticblkgirl @kissmyafropuff @honey-poooh @diva-Princess-on-fleek @heybriheyyy @maya-leche

#vanity writes #my shit #erik stevens #killmonger smut #daddy erik #killmonger fic #erik killmonger #erik killmonger x black oc #bde #carnal stimulation

[luna-redamancy]

The Curse pt.2 (Thorin x Reader)

Previous Next 

Word Count: 2102, my longest fic ever. 

Warnings: None? 

The sunlight hit your eyes, causing a grimace to form on your face as you rolled over to try and avoid waking up for the day. But it was too late, your ears woke up to the noises of the townsfolk down on the cobblestone streets below your window, the birds chirping a little too cheerful for your liking.

Sitting up, you grabbed the blankets off of you, a renewed energy bubbling in you. Today you could go see the bookkeeper, “Surely they must have something new in stock..” You mumbled to yourself as you tidied your hair back with a ribbon, pulling on a simple blue dress over your slip as you slid on your flats.

Grabbing the leather-bound copy of Romeo and Juliet, you made your way to the door, a basket for groceries looped over your elbow. “I’ll be off papa!” You called, only getting a snore in response. Shaking your head with a smile, you bounded off. ‘Must’ve been staying up late inventing again,’ You thought as you walked through the town.

The buildings were close together as if it was a barrier against the eyes of outsiders, the streets narrow and hard to get around if you didn’t grow up here. “Little town…” You sighed, staring at the same old buildings you’ve seen since you were just a child. “Quiet village, every day like the one before..” You mumbled out loud, hearing everyone around you calling good morning to the others.

Putting on a smile you nodded at them, “Good morning,” You recited in a polite tone, your eyes wandering as you came across the potter of the town. “Good morning, Monsieur Jean!” You called happily, one of the only villagers who didn’t find you odd for your passion for books.

“Good morning (Y/n)!” He called back to you, a smile forming on his face before his brows furrowed as he began to look deep in thought.

“Have you lost something again?”

“Well, I believe I have. The problem is, I can’t remember what! Oh, well. I’m sure it will come to me. Where are you off to?”

“Off to return this book to Balin. It's about two lovers in fair Verona,” You described, the lines of the pages etched into memory for how many times you’ve read the worn pages.

“Sounds boring,” Monsieur Jean frowned slightly, not trying to come off as rude, simply honest.

Laughing you nodded kept walking on your path, trying to avoid the whispers of the townsfolk around you.

“That girl is strange, no question about it,”

“No denying she’s a funny girl that (Y/n)”

Holding your head high, you ignored the whispers as you walked into the small library building.

“Ah, if it isn’t the only bookworm in town. So, where did you run off to this week?” Balin smiled at you as he walked up to you in greeting.

“2 cities in Northern Italy... I didn’t want to come back” You joked lightly, but your heart yearned to take off like how your mind could when you were reading a new book.

“Have you got any new places to go?” You questioned, looking over to the bookshelf.

“I’m afraid not, but you are more than welcome to re-read any of the old ones if you’d like,” He encouraged, waving his hand to the shelf.

“Thank you!” You gratefully bowed your head, letting your hand skim over the spines you’ve held in your hand thousands of times. Story after story replaying in your head before deciding on which one you wanted.  

“Your library makes our small corner of this world feel big,” You said amongst your thanks as you tucked the book in between your arm and your waist, settling the previous book you had amongst the rest of them.

“Vonveryage,” Balin smiled and waved as you muttered your goodbyes as you left the small library.

Walking through the town to return home, your nose was buried in your favorite book. Skillfully avoiding the villagers coming and going in your path, you nodded politely to those when you did look up.

Using the pages of the book to drift you away from the whispers you let your memory take your legs to their destination.

“Look at her, Legolas. My future wife, she is the most beautiful girl in the village. That makes her the best.” Thranduil grinned broadly, sitting atop a white horse, closing his scope as he finished watching you from afar.

“But she’s so well-read. And you’re so… athletically inclined.” Legolas argued quietly from next to him on his own horse.

Thranduil chuckled, “I know. She can be as argumentative as she is beautiful.” He sighed dreamily as they guided their horses to go into town.

“Exactly! Who needs her when you’ve got all of us behind you?” Legolas questioned, following behind him.

“Yes… But ever since the war, I’ve felt like I’ve been missing something. And she’s the only girl that gives me that sense of…”

“Je ne sais quoi?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Thranduil said cooly as he continued on causing Legolas to facepalm in the background.

As soon as the two entered the town, all eyes went to Thranduil. His piercing eyes drew googly eyes from the women getting their dresses fitted across the street. Legolas rolled his eyes as he could hear them gossiping about the two.

The two got off their horses, tying them up to the posts on the outskirts of the town. Legolas pinched the horse’s leg slightly, enough to get the horse to stomp its foot in the mud, launching it all over the gossiping women. Their shrieks filled the air causing Legolas to hide a chuckle, “Never going to happen, ladies,” Legolas grinned as he walked off with Thranduil.

The town was bustling as the morning was in full swing, men and women scurrying about to complete their errands before the sun rose to its full height and made it unpleasant to be out.

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed as he searched for you amongst the crowd, his smile widening when he spotted you just leaving the towns square.

“Excuse me, please let me through!” He announced, struggling to get through the bustling crowd as you made your exit.

Rushing toward you finally, Thranduil latched his hand onto your shoulder, “Good morning (Y/n)! A wonderful book you have there,”  He flashed a grin as you struggled not to rip your shoulder out of his grasp.

“Have you read it?” You questioned, closing it, your finger in the book to keep your place.

Thranduil chuckled nervously, “Well, not that one..But, books…” He drifted off, holding out the flowers he had in his other hand, “For your dinner table,” He explained, “Shall I join you this evening?”

Frowning you stepped back slightly, causing his hand to drop off your shoulder, “Sorry Thranduil, not this evening…”

“Busy?” He questioned, quirking a brow.

“No…” You drifted off, just shaking your head as you finished walking home, purpose in your step more so than before.

“Moving on now?” Legolas came up, arms crossed.

“No, Legolas… It’s always the ones who play hard to get that are the sweetest prey… That’s what makes (Y/N) so appealing... “

Thranduil turned to face Legolas, “She hasn’t made a fool of herself to gain my favor, what would you call that?”

Legolas snorted, “You mean dignity?”

“It’s outrageously attractive, isn’t it?”

Shaking his head, Legolas walked away from his longtime friend as Thranduil turned to watch you walk into your house as the village girls called after him in the background.

“I’m back Papa,” You called as you entered the house, setting down your basket of the small groceries you gathered, searching for your father in the small house.

Hearing a tune coming from the dining room you grinned.

“How does a moment last forever… How can a story never die, it is love we must hold on to, never easy, but we try…” Your father, Bard, sang to himself as he tinkered with the music box in front of him.

“Oh, (Y/n)!” He looked up realizing you were in the room, a small smile on his face before slipping back into concentration. “Could you…..Hand me--” You already knew what he was going to ask, holding up the tool he needed. “Thank you dear, I also need a---” You held up the other tool expectantly.

Bard chuckled, “No, no no… Actually…” He looked closer, side glancing at you. “That’s exactly what I need… Thank you.”

Smiling you pressed a kiss to his forehead as you began putting away the groceries. “Papa, do you think I’m odd?” You questioned, your voice small as you placed the goods in the cupboard.

“Odd? My daughter? Odd? Where did you get an idea like that?” Bard questioned, concern coming over his face.

“I don’t know. People talk…” You mumbled, shutting the cupboard door.

He sighed and shook his head, “This is a small village, you know. Small minded as well. But small also means safe…” Bard started, trying to find the words to console you. “Even back in Paris, I knew a girl like you, who was so… ahead of her time. So different. People mocked her. Until the day they all found themselves imitating her.”

Turning to face him, you realized who he was talking about. Your mother. “Please, just tell me one more thing about her.” You asked, moving to lean against the dining chair as your father stood up, realizing how late it was.

Packing up his bag, your father began to leave the small house, leaving your question unanswered.

“Papa?” You called his attention again as he reigned Philippe, the family horse.

Sighing, Bard looked down with unbearable sadness clouding his eyes, tears almost stinging the surface. “Your mother was…. Fearless.” He choked out, turning so you wouldn’t see him getting upset.

Sniffling slightly, he coughed as he rubbed away any signs of his heartache, “So, what can I bring you from the market, my child?” He questioned as he turned to face you once more.

You grinned, knowing he just asked to be polite, “A rose, like the one in the painting.”

Bard chuckled as he shook his head, remembering the painting he created long ago and the red rose he painted in it also. “Are you sure you don’t want anything else? You ask for that every year..”

Patting his head, you smiled softly, “And every year you bring it.”

“Then I shall bring you another. You have my word.” Bard kissed your forehead fondly, hating to leave you alone.

“Goodbye, papa!” You called as he gathered the reins. “Goodbye my dear, come on, Philippe, you know the way.”

Waving at him as the cart rolled along the cobblestone, “I’ll see you tomorrow?” You questioned, worry in your voice.

“Tomorrow, with the rose!” Bard called back, turning to smile at you as you gave a worried smile back. “Stay safe!” You yelled out as he disappeared from view. Sighing you leaned against the fence, “He’ll be safe… He always is..” You reassured yourself as you walked inside to cook yourself lunch.

Day turned into dusk, the townsfolk happily in the taverns and inns drinking their night away as you sat against the windowsill, a blanket draped over you and your book happily in your hands. The fire crackled pleasantly, warming the house with its flames.

Pausing your reading, you glanced outside the window, trying not to worry too much. Winter was coming soon, and that meant it was getting more dangerous for travelers like your father to be out late.

“He’s fine.” You scolded yourself for worrying as you dragged your eyes back to the book now in your lap.

High pitched whining caught your attention to outside this time. Cupping your hands around your eyes to see through the glass better, you gasped.  Philippe barrelled back into the town, whining and raising up on his hind legs to stamp his hooves on the cobblestone.

Throwing on your cloak, you abandoned your book and warm house, throwing on your flats once more. “What is it, Philippe?” You questioned worriedly, your eyes widening in horror as you saw the fabric of your father’s coat in his mouth. “Where’s papa, Philippe….” You muttered out, your eyes searching his for some sort of answer that never came.

“Philippe, show me the way,” You begged, determined to find out what happened to your father.

Hoisting yourself onto the stead, you trotted off into the night, down the trail your father traveled so many nights before. “Please be okay...” You whispered to yourself as you galloped down the path, anxiety smacking inside your core, the cool night air sending shivers down your spine as your mind thought hundreds of horrible things that could have happened to him. 

Tags: 

Forever tag:

@lady-of-lies @all-things-fandomstuck @xxno-wayxx @fizzyxcustard @izzydaelleth @aquaangel18@raindancer2004 @love-colorfulglittercollection

Thorin tag:  @greennightspider @ashleygrrrl @skylarkvip

The Curse Tag: 

@tschrist1 

#The curse #beauty and the beast au #thorin x reader #disney au #disney #xreader #reader-insert #the hobbit #middle-earth #erebor #thorin son of thrain #thorin oakenshield #thorin #jrr tolkien #the hobbit desolation of smaug #the hobbit an unexpected journey #the hobbit the battle of the five armies #thorin x you

[ackbang]

special delivery to my reibert secret santa: @freckledskittles! they asked for college reibert, where annie has two stupid friends that would be perfect for each other and sets them up on a blind date. and wow, if that ain’t my shit too?? this is my first time writing reibert, and in pure isayama fashion, i do nothing but talk about reiner for 2k words. please enjoy, and happy holidays, my dear. <3

mocha latte

Reiner Braun grew up in the small town of Liberio. It was a town nestled within the foothills of the Virginian Adirondacks; the kind of town that the residents lovingly called a village because there was not much there to make it anything more. Once a popular railway town, it fell into being a town of stagnant quiet that rolled along much like the early morning mists in the valleys. The town square was measured in feet and comprised of one general store, a post office that closed at noon, and a library with three rows of books, all that sat along the only road that left in and out of town.

Life was quiet, and Reiner didn’t know it could be anything more than summer nights filled with the sounds of crickets and jars of lightning bugs. He didn’t know the difference of life outside of three feet of snow and neighbors that lived almost a mile away. He didn’t know about a life that didn’t involve a community, where everybody knew everybody else, where restless mothers with sweating brows caused by heated stoves chatted for hours on phones that still had cords. Where murmurs of the boy without a dad and a mother without a crucifix around her neck was the type of boy you were best to stay away from.

Reiner had been to the city once. He was so small then that he had barely remembered much else besides how tall the buildings had been around him. Like giants, he told his mother, his hand squeezing hers. She smiled down at him and nodded. Told him stories about Greek myths and the great beasts that formed the world. They were called titans, she said. Reiner begged her for more--she had so much control over the knowledge of his world, she might as well had been a god to him at that moment. They spent the rest of the day at the art museum, reading thousand year old stories on old terracotta pots. She bought him a book on mythology that sat with a worn spine on his bookshelf.

The kids turned to teenagers, and Reiner began to fill out his shirts with muscle as his voice grew deeper. He did manual labor throughout the year--chopping wood, shoveling driveways, landscaping. He saved his money and bought books. He saved money because he wasn’t going to be like them. He was going to be different. So many of them were stuck in the foothills, their feet sinking into the soil like old trees, building families before even having a chance to grow themselves. The friends he had were in his books. They were in the mythologies.

His mother brought him to the closest town that had a Wal-Mart to pick up a nice pair of clothing for his high school graduation. She took him to the Waffle House and let him get the All-Star Special. “For my All-Star,” she said, an affectionate grin on her face as she sipped at her light coffee. Reiner was the first one in the family to go to college, and was the only one in his class of forty to leave the state for school.

She was proud.

She was so proud and she said it to him so many times as she helped him move his things into his dorm room. “Eight hours.” She kissed his cheek. “I’m only eight hours away. If you need anything at all, I’ll come get you.” She nodded as she looked into his eyes. Six inches shorter than him, and she still looked so tall--for so long she had been his entire world.

He kissed her cheek back and nodded. “I know, ma. You’re just a phone call away.”

Reiner had no idea. He had no idea how watching her pull out of the parking lot would grip something around his heart so strongly it made him ill. Eight hours felt like an ocean at times. It had only been a few days and he couldn’t bring himself to eat anything at all.

His roommate Connie threw a pack of pop-tart at his face the morning before their first class. “You need to eat something, dude.” The pack fell onto the keyboard of the laptop in his lap.

Reiner ran a hand down his face and blinked a few times. He’d been staring at the schedule of his classes for the past hour, only thinking of how in a couple of weeks, the grass would start frosting in the morning back home. “I will… I will.” He picked up the pack and tore it open, taking a mouthful of both pastries and chewing, crumbs falling from the corner of his lips and landing in the crevices of his keys.

“You play any sports?”

Reiner looked over at Connie. He shrugged. “We didn’t have any sports teams back home.”

Connie laughed. His laughter was always loud but genuine. “What the fuck kinda backwoods place do you come from?”

“Liberio.”

“Where?”

Reiner laughed in response, shoving another mouth full of pastry into his mouth. After he swallowed, he continued. “Yeah. I’ve never played anything outside of touch football.”

“Man, you’d be a beast. You got arms for days.” Connie flexed his muscles and laughed again. Reiner smiled. “There’s open try-outs next week. We should go together.”

Reiner looked back down at his schedule. He had no idea how intense his semester was going to be. He was on course to be a physical therapist eventually--but this semester was full of prerequisites like math and English. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try. It’s not like I’ll ever make it.”

A week later he was Sina University’s football team’s defensive tackle.

Being social didn’t come easy, but people tended to like him. He liked his teammates, and he found himself at parties and tasted cheap beer that never seemed to get him drunk. He kissed his first girl, a short little blonde quiet thing that attached better to the corners of rooms than to people. He followed her outside onto the green lawns that didn’t frost and tried to take her hand. “Let me walk you home,” he said.

He didn’t remember hitting the ground, but it happened and the wind was knocked out of him. He coughed the air back into as she stared down at him. In the night, her eyes looked pale like the moon, and her personality as interesting as a twig. She said her name was Annie, and they became best friends.

Reiner managed well through his first semester. He made good grades while balancing his newly acquired social life. The pain of homesickness was distant at times, but when he went back for winter break, he sat in a pile of snow that made it hard for him to breathe. When he went back inside the house, he watched the steam curl off of his mug of coffee until it ceased. His throat hurt as if he had been talking, and perhaps he had because his mother was smiling bigger than he had ever seen her smile.

“I’m so proud of you, Reiner.”

Reiner finished out his first year on the Dean’s List, and he hugged Connie good bye as they packed up his dorm room to go back home for the summer. “Hopefully we’ll be roomies again, yeah?” Connie stepped back and raised his fist for a fist bump.

Reiner accepted with a nod. “Totally.” He dragged Connie back into a hug before closing the dorm room door behind him.

Summer was lonely, and he found that he missed school like how he missed home. Annie came to visit for a week, and they went hiking and camped at the peak of a mountain in order to watch the sunrise. “This is beautiful.” She said.

“It’s home.” Reiner said softly. He looked down at Annie and he had seen so many movies that plotted like this. He was supposed to reach out and hold her hand. They were supposed to kiss. In this special moment, overlooking the most important place to him, he was supposed to react.

Annie matched his gaze, her eyebrows downcasting. The golden sun caught her pale skin and outlined her in neon. Reiner supposed she was beautiful in all her unique features, but he didn’t feel anything. “What are you looking at?” She said stiffly.

Reiner looked forward, and the sun crept up the sky so immeasurably, it seemed to be stuck in time. “Nothing.” He said.

The next semester started, and Connie was once again his roommate. He juggled through practice and games and studying and classes, and somehow having regular hang-outs with Annie. He told her about the blonde cheerleader that always looked at him. “I think she really likes me.” He said, biting into a mediocre school burger.

“Nope.”

“What?” Reiner covered his mouth with a napkin when he realized he was losing pieces of food from his gaping mouth.

“She’s gay.” Annie said, matter of factly.

“No way.” Reiner swallowed. He’d never really known anybody that was gay. “She doesn’t look like she would be.”

“What, does she have to wear a sign around her neck or something?” Annie rolled her eyes and dropped her fork next to her salad. “Listen. I know somebody you should try out.”

“I’m fine.” Reiner sighed. It’s not that he didn’t want to experiment with relationships. Despite being an outcast for so long, college turned him into somebody new. He’d become the big brother to his team, even helped tutor some of them when they needed it. He already had too many social obligations as it was. “I don’t have time for a girlfriend.”

“Just trust me. They’re a mega nerd like you and your weird… Mythology obsession.”

Reiner raised an eyebrow and nodded. With a gentle laugh, he took a gulp of his water before nodding again. “Fine.”

Annie setup the date at the school coffee shop. She had a few instructions: wear the red letterman jacket, get there at 2PM, and don’t try to be a gentleman and take the bill. “Most importantly,” she said, “Be yourself.”

And it was at that time that Reiner forgot how it was even like to be himself. Back home, he had been a recluse. He kept himself busy with carrying logs and sleeping under the stars. He had worlds inside his head with monsters that made storms with their breaths and created mountains with their bodies. At school, he found himself to be whatever people needed him to be. He sat at the metal table picking at a callous on his palm, feeling more homesick than he did when his mother first left him here--a whole ocean away.

He tapped his phone awake. 2:13. His eyes wandered across the cafe, to the entrance, then back at his phone. 2:13. He sighed and hung his head.

Eren and Jean had called him their big brother. Armin helped him drill down the difference between sins and cosines. Connie stayed up late with him watching movies from the early nineties that Reiner had never seen. His friends were part of who he was now, but is that all he was?

2:18. He paused and stared at the tall man sitting at the window--skin that matched the color of his mother’s coffee, hair deep as mocha. Reiner looked back down at his hand and picked at a scab on his index finger.

He was about legends and giants and worlds so large and vast that they couldn’t contain his size. He was going to be greater than anything that came out of that small little town.

2:25. Reiner gasped a little when the tall man matched eyes with him. His eyes were sad, his brow withered in worry, and they darted away as soon as they met. Reiner shook his head, agitated that he had been stood up by this mystery girl, and rose from his seat. The legs of his chair screeched on the concrete floor, and his shoes squeaked as he passed a few tables and stopped in front of the tall man.

“Hey.” Reiner said. He didn’t have to tilt his head too far down to look into the sitting man’s face. He turned his attention to the man’s coffee cup, and saw it to be empty, a dark pool of mocha remaining at the bottom of the mug.

The man startled so abruptly that his chair wailed under him. “H-hey.”

“Looks like my date stood me up.” Reiner said, pulling the chair opposite out and taking a seat. “You look like you could use some company.” Reiner landed his elbow on the table and extended his hand. “Name’s Reiner.”

The man looked at the hand as if it were a cobra, the soft sheen of sweat at his forehead shining under the large lamp above the table. He raised his hand and connected firmly with Reiner’s and shook it once. His palms were sweaty, and it made Reiner smile. “Bertholdt.”

Reiner took back his hand and folded his arms across his chest. “What are you doing here lookin’ so glum?”

Bertholdt shrugged.

Reiner hummed. He looked Bertholdt up and down, studied the size of his nose, the color of his eyes, and found himself focussing oddly on the length of his neck and how the tendon tensed every time he swallowed. The white polo collar that popped out from under the teal sweater set him apart from the jocks he had grown accustomed to hanging out with. He was one pair of glasses away from being a nerd.

“There’s an exhibit going on at the art museum about Irish folklore.”

Bertholdt searched Reiner’s face and a smile cheated across his lips. It reminded Reiner of home somehow. “That sounds nice.”

“Wanna go?” They stared at each other for a few more moments before Reiner added, “I mean, I left today open for a date, and now I’m bored so…” Reiner shook his head, slapping a hand to his forehead. “N-not that it’s a date. Jesus.”

Bertholdt relaxed into his seat and laughed. It reminded Reiner of summer nights with jars full of lightning bugs. “That sounds fun.” He lifted his hand up and fingered the curve of the coffee mug handle. “But I’ve already been to it.” He smiled, and it looked strained but eager to remain on his lips. “How about we go to the natural history museum instead?”

Reiner smiled big, his teeth showing. He thought of books with worn spines, and wondered if Bertholdt had any of his own. “Sure.” He nearly spit it out, the excitement thrumming in his chest. “That sounds great.”

#reibert gift exchange #reibert secret santa #reiner braun #bertholdt hoover #annie leonhardt #connie springer #snk #aot #mine #my titans #ack fics #titan fics #this was so fun to write and i want to do more #there's so much more i could write #i love this au #kaj;slrea;s #i hope you enjoy T_T;

[skyruemonroe]

It's a Chicken Nugget Hazel Levesque. Tfw u tried to write a pjo fic even tho the series has been dead for u since 2014

After years of being lost in the fields of Asphodel, Hazel Levesque was brought back to life to be a part of a prophecy. The Prophecy of the Seven destined seven half-bloods to rise to the call and defend the world as they know it against an ancient Earth goddess, Gaia. Out of the seven demigods, only six were defending the world “as they knew it”. Hazel had been dead since 1942. Hazel’s half-brother Nico Di Angelo jail broke her out of Asphodel and threw her into a new century. The 21st century might as well have been an entirely different world versus the time she’s from. Buckets of information were poured into her head with every passing day. Nothing reminded her of the 1930s and there were no familiarities besides her newly made friendships with the rest of the seven. One of the seven gained a little more than her friendship. Frank Zhang took affection with his cheeky smile and stole her heart with gentle gestures. Frank had become the praetor of New Rome after the war with Gaia had ended. They haven’t been able to spend too much time sharing stories and giggling flirtatiously  His post kept him busy, but Hazel was kept busy with her lessons about the modern day.

Camp-Half Blood had such a slower pace compared to the rest of the world.  Instead of obnoxious, horn blowing and car engines growling there were trees rustling, birds chirping and the sweet, relaxed chatters of campers. Although, chatting was more so cheering and groaning when war games were in session. As far as she was aware war games weren’t planned for the rest of the week. More time to relax and enjoy her friends’ company.

Friends. An ethereal smile flooded into her face as she headed towards the Hestia cabin. Tight, copper curls bounced against her shoulders as she started to skip. Her eyes were a gold sun and they shined brighter with every friendly wave from campers lingering in the ring of cabins. The canary letters printed on her purple SPQR shirt, along with the brown in her knee-height boots created a casual accent against cinnamon skin and high-waist blue jeans.

The Hestia’s cabin door swung open before she could raise her hand to knock. “Miss Underground has arrived,” a pointy eared, scrawny boy announced. He grabbed Hazel’s hand and yanked her into a room of laughable cheers. “It’s thanksgiving Charlie Brown and we’ve got taste testing to do.”

“Leo, it’s not thanksgiving and who’s Charlie Brown?” Hazel’s eyes widened as his bony arm pulled her to the rest of the group. It was odd seeing everyone letting their guard laze and unscathed. Leo was wearing a clean, stainless, white t-shirt and brown cargo shorts rather than an almost grey with filth button down shirt and jeans.

“Darling Hazel…Grasshopper you’ve still got much to learn. I, the qualified Percy Jackson will show you Peanuts after food. “Percy closed his eyes put his right hand on his chest and held his right arm out to Hazel as if he was making an oath. A small smirk flickered on his face as he awaited a face palm from his beloved girlfriend. Hazel’s right eye scrunched as her left eyebrow rose. Are peanuts not food? Are they slang now?

“Seaweed brain. Why are you like this?” Grey eyes rolled as a blonde haired girl spoke. A soft chuckle tumbled from her lips as she tugged on of her curls.

“Anyway~” Leo interrupted the couple before flirtatious bantering could hit off. “Courtesy of the Hestia cabin. Today you’re going to try chicken nuggets and other 21st century foods. ” His brown chucks tapped against the ground softly as he walked backward into a chair. His curls matched the brown choppiness of a girl who was leaning towards a blonde boy with thick, black glasses. “Maybe you’ll eat the vegan stuff Piper likes. ” He jutted his thumb to the girl behind him.

Hazel rolled her eyes at the brown haired girl’s spot on jazz hands behind Leo’s head. “How many other foods?” The smell of oils and modern day convenience stores wafted all through the cabin. “Why couldn’t we do this at the dining hall?” Hazel figured it make more sense to take advantage of the dining hall’s magical properties than to have Hestia campers do all the cooking.

“Lots of foods will be tested. Foods I will eat.” Piper finger gunned at Hazel. Reminding everyone that she wasn’t going to be consuming chicken nuggets or any other meat products. “We wanted to do it here because homemade is the best way to have food. ” Piper pulled herself up onto a wooden table in the center of the cabin. Then playfully leaned forward to flick Leo and Jason’s heads. “I’m a vegetarian. Not vegan…yet. ”

Jason turned around with puffed out cheeks, narrowed blue eyes and pursed lips. “Pipes owh. I didn’t say anything.”

Percy giggled as Leo slyly un-tied  Piper’s grey converse. “Piper you might want to hop down from the table. If we’re going to be eating I don’t want your butt where my food will be.”

Piper gave an understanding nod and hopped down from the table. Her shoe lace on her left foot got caught under her right shoe, throwing her forward onto her face. Hazel looked away as Piper shot back up. Should she have said something so Piper wouldn’t have fallen?

Maybe she shouldn’t have said something. That was quite hilarious though. In order to hide the corners of her smile Hazel pretended to cough.  

Annabeth sat in the corner eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed firmly together  like she was about to explode. “They’re all frozen foods. It doesn’t make sense to have it here in the Hestia cabin.”

Before more common sense could spill off her tongue a Hestia camper came out with bowls filled to the brim with chicken nuggets. “The blue bowl has tyson chicken nuggets, the green bowl has vegetable based nuggets and the purple bowl has breaded chunks of chicken. Or homemade chicken nuggets. ”

“Thanks!” Five of the kids chorused in unison.

“Why didn’t you just say homemade chicken nuggets? Why make it more complicated?” Percy scooted his chair towards the table. The screeching sounds of the chair legs against the floor were so irritating. Annabeth kicked Percy’s chair forward flying him all the way up to the table.  Instead of multiple fragmented screeches there was one big scooch.

Piper immediately started snatching nuggets from the vegetable bowl and stuffing them in her face. Jason followed her actions but much more slowly. At least Piper wasn’t intense and mean. Hazel hasn’t ever seen her trash or make a scene over people eating meat. Frank was making his way into becoming vegetarian as well. Percy and Leo would tease him about how soon his heavy armor would turn into eco-friendly grass woven shirts.

Giggling, Hazel walked over to the table and picked up a homemade chicken nugget first. They looked delicious, she thinks. Hazel hasn’t seen any other homemade chicken nuggets to compare them to.

The moment Hazel popped a chicken nugget into her mouth. A boy solidified through a shadow cast on the wall by a bookshelf. “I knew you all would do this. You got nuggets. You didn’t get McNuggets. You’re dead to me. ” Once the boy was completely visible his pale skin stuck out like center piece against all the warm colors in the Hestia cabin. The bags under his eyes were an unsettling grey. Did those bags ever go away? What would he look like without fatigue weighing on his skin. Does Will ever make him sleep? Hazel bit her lip into a smile as she thought about her brother and his hot mess of self care.

“Nico!” She dropped the next chicken nugget she was about to eat onto the table and ran over to give him a loving hug

“Hay! Be careful you’re going to hurt the happy meals. ” His grip tightened around the gold m-shaped handles. He lightly kissed her cheek then smiled back.

“Hay Hay back a way way!” Percy grinned. All eyes turned to a young man balancing a stack of chicken nuggets on his nose.  A few Hestia campers were watching the group from afar.  Their heads tilted and eyebrows raised.  Were these dorks really the brave heroes to save the world? In the full picture they looked like the weird group of misfits who’d sit a table away from the ‘squares’ at school.  "Someone is missing. “ He looked around at everyone in the room.

The room was filled of people. "There’s no one missing. Frank already told you he couldn’t make it. ” Hazel took a Happy Meal from Nico’s hands. Her eyes widened as she noticed the teeth and tongue painted onto the box. “Why does it have a face?” The corner of her upper lip raised while the skin on her nose scrunched up.

“To make it more kid friendly. ” Leo offered an explanation and then turned to Percy. “Calypso couldn’t make it because she isn’t feeling well. ” Leo stuffed as face in the midst of talking in order to cover up the immediate look of love sickness.

Percy shook his head. “No, not them. Someone that’s Nico’s TYPE. ”

Everyone in the room let out an annoyed sigh.  "LET IT GO. “ The entire cabin shouted.

"Percy you’ve got me, your girlfriend. You can’t hold on to Nico growing out of his crush  forever. ” Annabeth smacked the back of head, causing all the chicken nuggets to fall onto his lap. Nico huffed and picked up a glass full of a red drink from a platter just being brought in. Hazel looked over to the Hestia kids.  Why were the so distant? This wasn’t a selective food party. It’s an everybody food party. Hazel opened her mouth to call everyone over but was cut off by Percy’s revenge.

“Annabeth. There’s a spider right behind your head. ” He pointed and forced a look of surprise upon his face.

“Kelphead. Do you really think that’s gonna work on me? I found the Mark of Athena. I’m not scared of spiders anymo-”

Leo took his shoe off and started to get up, “I’ll kill it. ” He looked to where Percy was pointing. Annabeth flew into Percy’s arms that millisecond. All the chicken nuggets on his lap fell onto the floor. A hestia kid groaned in the background. They’re going to have clean up the mess when they all leave.

Hazel felt dirty for laughing so hard. The guilt faded away as Piper joined her. Hazel’s hair smushed against Piper’s shoulder as she leaned into her jean jacket.  Looking to Nico her eyebrows furrowed. “Are you drinking blood?” She understood the term edgy now. Wasn’t this taking 'edge’ a bit too far? Her pupils shrunk a bit as her mood was tainted with fear and disgust.

Everyone laughing at Percy and Annabeth now laughed at Hazel’s confusion. Nico’s head jerked back as his eyes bugged and he spit his drink out of his mouth. “No! It’s not blood. Good gods Hazel. It’s Kool-Aid. ”

The blonde boy behind Nico nodded. “Yeah Hazel it’s just a soft drink. It comes in a ton of different flavors and colors. It tastes pretty nasty unless you pour half a bag of sugar in. ”

“Jason you’d only put the amount it said to put in until I showed you how to make Kool-Aid. ” Leo raised his eyebrows and looked over to the Hestia campers. “Are you guys going to chill with us?” A toothy grin sprawled across his face as Leo waved them over to the table.

Jason looked to the side. It’s not his fault he never experimented outside of instruction. Some people are made to be set in stone. Hazel laughed at Jason’s face then turn to see the Hestia kid’s expressions. There was a bit of confusion and hesitant nodding. “It’ll be more fun with you!” Hazel twirled over to them and extended her hand to the eldest looking camper.

“Well I don’t see why we’re all sitting back here. ” The Hestia kid took Hazel’s hand and they both went back to the table. The other kids followed. “So, you’re Hazel Levesque?” They noted her copper curls, SPQR shirt and bond with the world’s saviors. “How’s the 21st Century treating you?”

Hazel let go of the Hestia camper’s hand then spun around to come face to face. She looked up a tad because she only came up to their chin. “I am Hazel Levesque. It’s. It’s interesting. Not like anything I’ve ever witnessed but I love it!” Hazel bashfully tugged on one of her curls and gazed down at the floor. “I still feel like I don’t know enough to really contribute. ”

The Hestia camper chuckled lightly. “You don’t have to learn to create. You create to learn. Bring in what you do know and then go from there. ” They patted Hazel lightly on the shoulder.

Hazel’s golden eyes rose to meet the Hestia camper’s blue eyes. They weren’t as chilling and intimidating as Jason’s but they were even more infinite and capturing. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name?”

“You can call me Jace. ” The Hestia camper grinned. “You’ll have more fun in this generation if you stay away from 5sos and meme stans and… Politics. ” Jace popped the P in politics and slid in a chair across from Piper. They grabbed a veggie nugget and poked it into their mouth.

“What’s a five sauce stan? What’re memes?” Hazel paused before trying a veggie nugget. For Frank. She’s doing this for Frank.  He’s going vegetarian. That means she has to get more acquainted with vegetable based products.

“Memes are the best thing about the 21st century. Ever. ” Leo firmly stated while llaying upside down on his chair like a bat. His curly hair rested on the floor. “Five S.O.S Is actually an acronym for a ban named Five Seconds of Summer Piper likes them. ”

Piper scoffed. “You say it as if being a fan is derogatory. ” She kicked Leo’s chair over a bit. His head rubbed against the floor.

“Beauty Queen you’re so violent today. Look up what Stan means on urban dictionary Hazel. It’ll boost your Internet skills. ” Leo pulled himself and leaned over to pinch Piper’s cheek.

“What’s the urban dictionary? ” Hazel looked away from Jace to Leo.

Leo’s mouth had just opened but Percy’s laughter spilled before he could say anything. “We’ll show you after Charlie Brown. You’ll need it. ”

Annabeth poked Percy’s cheek. “Jace if you don’t mind me asking, how were you born?” She cringed as the words fell from her mouth. That question was so annoying to ask and be asked. Her need for knowledge made it so she had to know. “Why’d she change how she felt about cabins?”

“With each home Hestia blesses a child is brought into the picture from their hearth. We’re not really born. A lot of us were adopted into a home and blessed by Hestia or we were literally created from the sentimental warmth of a fire place. ” Something along those lines. Jace rolled their eyes. “Also, I’m not sure. Ask her. ” This lot is something else. “Hey Hazel have you ever tried nachos? ” Another one of their siblings brought out chips draped in cheese fondue. “You’ll love 'em. ”

Hazel giggled and shook her head. She’d heard of nachos before. One time Percy, Annabeth and Hazel went to a video gaming arcade, Percy naturally went straight to the restaurant area. Annabeth followed after rolling her eyes and asking why’d he order food if he hated it the last time. Percy replied he was going to get something different. Over all the cheering and beeping Percy’s voice declared her wanted nachos with extra cheese. The woman working the counter nodded with a straight face and and loud groan. She must’ve been in a terrible mood because she gave Percy a plate of nachos.

#percy jackson #the big bang #i never finished it

[greenmantle]

assorted tdt notes, part 1

trb notes | tdt pt 2

i’m back with random notes of things that appealed specifically to me in the dream thieves! i’m writing these notes as i read (hooray for structure!) so..enjoy!

i still don’t understand the secrets at the beginning. it all sounds like nonsense to me. i do love that the second secret is framed as like a song, that’s cute

“probably not pleasant at all,” the gray man describes declan waiting to have his door kicked in, while at the same time describing declan’s whole entire life

old people make ronan anxious

“at night, [gansey] looked particularly small” gansey is tiny #confirmed by ronan

“and [in ronan’s dreams] the trees speak [latin].” “like in cabeswater.” wow maggie was really. heavy handed in directly linking cabeswater to ronan from the start

sullen and elegant and fluently disdainful of dream-ronan’s clumsy attempts to communicate. page 39 is how early it was being made evident that ronan had a big embarrassing crush

the puzzle box: “rainbow-striped grain of the wood” idk what that means but i like the concept #rainbowsforronan

“and it’s been dating your girlfriend,” ronan says to blue, about the puzzle box, further confirming that blue sargent likes girls, thank you

i love how much all the gang hate kavinsky but i’m particularly tickled by adam’s complete and utter refusal to acknowledge him beyond saying he was a prick at the beginning of the book. goals

i feel like noah telling ronan he knew why he was mad and then saying “it’s not my job to tell other people’s secrets” should have tipped me off a little more when i first read this, but it did not

rather than focus on that whole “the devil showed niall lynch his genitals” thing i’m gonna focus on how the lynches had “an enormous number of guns of all sizes” and say i hope someone had the forethought to get rid of at least 90% of those guns

“gansey belonged to some religion that only required church attendance on christmas” gansey is #NotRonansChristian (is that a bad joke)

MATTHEW LYNCH: A BEAR OF A BOY, SQUARE AND SOLID AND EARNEST

matthew is fat this is canon

ronan and ashley hate each other and i deserve scenes of them being rude to each other @ maggie where are they

“he hid the insatiable wanting well, but now that she’d seen it once, she couldn’t stop seeing it. but he wouldn’t be able to explain it to maura.  and he would never really have to explain it to blue.  it was his something more.” i just...love bluesey. those kids get each other

“she’s a lovely woman, i suppose. if you like them bald and racist.” is gansey’s most iconic line and it’s about his grandmother. poetic

speaking of grandmothers, blue refers to her grandmothers, plural, as both being dead. blue’s grandmas confirmed lesbians

pg. 118: gansey, dangling his arm outside, patted the side of the car as if it were a horse. “that’ll do, pig. that’ll do.”

nerd

adam thought that he couldn’t trust his own eyes and then two chapters later ronan dreams about adam strangling him

“ronan could not kill him, no matter how much orphan girl begged. it was adam.”

the raven king was just..full of call backs

ronan knocked over a bookshelf to keep the night horror in his room but he stopped to pile the books up. cute

gansey uses a box cutter to fight off the night horror. does he always get his murder weapons at home depot? god, he’s butch

does anyone get this reference

“she wore a dress ronan thought looked like a lampshade. whatever sort of lamp it belonged on, gansey clearly wished he had one.  ronan wasn’t a fan of lamps.” 1 most iconic passage in any piece of literature 2 ronan knew about gansey’s big crush on blue and stayed in his own lane

ronan calls adam einstein and in return adam reminds ronan that there must be a shovel somewhere in one of the barns at ronan’s house

ronan’s response: oh, yeah.

blue goes with ronan when he sees aurora for the first time since he left the barns - there’s something to be said about ronan and blue and mothers. will revisit at a later time

ronan is angry when everyone else isn’t but is so calm when everyone else is angry that it makes blue angrier

calla has four coyotes tattooed on her spine

declan’s middle name starts with a ‘t’ what do you think it is. i bet it’s tiberius #thelynchfamilywasastartrekfamily

ronan owns at least one cowboy boot. yee haw.

while i’m gone dream me the world. something new for every night. still gets to me so hard. that whole substance party chapter just. gets. to. me. good gansey/ronan content

ronan sarcastically blows gansey a kiss as he, helen, and adam fly away in the helicopter

helen gansey, about vegan food: you have to use olive oil instead of butter because cows make butter and italians make olive oil

vegans vote, too!

gansey has a vinyl lp that is “too clever to interest” blue and noah, hipster gansey lives

next paragraph: gansey wrote beatles lyrics on his giant printout of henrietta hipster gansey cancelled annoying music snob gansey activated

or are they one in the same?

this post is almost the length of my first trc reread notes post and considering i’m only halfway done with the book..i had to stop. i’ll be back with part 2 eventually!! please share with me your thoughts and feelings about anything and everything mentioned above

#trc #trc reread #tdt liveblog #mine: text

[firstade-universe]

Now We Wait

Supervisory Special Agent Lexa Woods is at the top of her field. She is currently the team leader of the Cyber Crimes division of the FBI. She has top quality agents under her command and they are the most successful team in the last twenty years. To date they have put away 19 identity thieves, 27 human traffickers, and 42 child predators. That is the number Lexa is most proud of. She is currently in her office, reviewing case files, as they just closed a very high profile identity theft ring, when she gets a knock on the door.

“Come in.” The door opens to reveal a blonde woman in her late twenties. She is wearing the most perfectly tailored suit, and has her hair tied back in a tousled pony-tail.

“Hello SSA Woods, I’m SSA Clarke Griffin from the Violent Crimes. I was hoping I could get your help on a case.”

“Of course. Close that and have a seat.” Clarke did as she was told, she closed the door gently then made her way toward the desk. She shakes Lexa’s hand before handing over the file folder that was previously tucked under her arm. She sat in the chair in front of Lexa, who flipped open the folder and began reading. “Bank Robbers. Never had one of those cases before.”

Clarke nodded. “Yeah, and these guys seem to be moving at the most random pattern. I was hoping to steal a few minutes of your analyst's time. I hear Reyes is the best the Bureau has.”

The brunette can only smirk at that. She hand picked Raven Reyes to join the FBI so she could have her on this specific team. “Oh, she is. However she has gone home to Florida for the long weekend. I have no problem with you borrowing her once she had returned on Tuesday.”

“Oh.” Clarke sighed softly. “I see. Well thank you very much for your assistance. These two are really quite the piece of work and I’ve been after them longer than any case I’ve ever worked.”

Lexa looks through the file again and then looks back to the blonde with a raised brow. “This case is only five weeks old.”

Clarke sits up straighter and squares her shoulders a bit. “Not to sound arrogant, but I am pretty good at my job.”

“I didn’t mean to imply you were incapable. I am impressed that this is the longest case you’ve ever work. Cases sit on my desk longer than this sometimes. I meant no offense, SSA Griffin.”

The blonde sighed. “Sorry. I get a little defensive sometimes. I work very hard to be recognized by my own work, not who my father is.”

Lexa stared at her blankly for a moment. “And who is that?”

Clarke’s jaw dropped slightly. “You really don’t know? My father is Jake Griffin. Assistant Director of the FBI.”

“I see.” Lexa nodded firmly then chuckled. “Wait, do you have any other siblings?”

Clarke gave her a confused look. “No. Just me. Why?”

“Well, I don’t know if I should be telling you this, but Jake invited me to the big Fourth of July party your family apparently hosts. He said I needed to meet his daughter, then winked at me and poked me. Then high fived his assistant.”

Clarke closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose while shaking her head lightly. “God. That man is going to be the death of me, I swear.”

An alert came through on both women’s cell phone.

[Friday July 2nd 9:49pm]

Attention all Agents and Analysts:

This is an imminent threat alert for all FBI buildings in Quantico, VA. You are advised at this time to shelter in place and follow all imminent threat procedures. A Critical Response Team will be doing sweeps of all buildings and will remove you if you are on site.

-FBI CRT

“Shit. I’ll get the window, you lock the door.” Lexa got up from her desk and moved to the window, closing the blinds quickly. Then she moves to the drawer of her desk and pulls out a ballistic sheet. “Here, take a corner.” She whispers. The kevlar material is physically heavy, but hung to fit the window perfectly. If someone were to fire a weapon at the window, the sheet would stop anything less than a .50 cal. The women worked together to hang it then pushed the heavy bookshelf, located near the door, to block the entrance. There is a rather large closet in Lexa’s office, used for storing files, and that is where the two women found themselves seated.

“So. Now we wait.” Clarke sighed as she turned her cell phone off.

Lexa sighed too. “Yeah. Now we wait.” There is about three minutes of silence before Clarke let out a chuckle. “What?” The chuckle turned into a full blown laugh. “Look, Griffin, I’m fairly positive our location is safe, but we should still be quiet.” Lexa’s tone was commanding but her lips involuntarily turned up into a smile.

“Sorry.” Clarke chuckled again, then coughed slightly, trying to compose herself. “It’s just been a very long time since I was stuck in the closet.”

Now it was Lexa’s turn to laugh. “Yeah. Me too.” They both smiled at each other. “But so far, this time it isn’t so bad. Oh! I forgot. I am sort of prepared for something like this.” She turns around to open the bottom drawer of one of the filing cabinets and pulls out a small tote bag. Then she dumps out the contents. She has a pack of playing cards, a set of dominos, a book of mad gabs, and a 750 piece puzzle.

“Impressive. Got any dinner in there?”

“I’ve got granola bars?” Lexa offers. “And water.” Lexa hands over the green pack of nature’s valley granola.

“You said granola bars, these things are crumbs.” Clarke laughs.

The brunette smiles. “Crumbs that do the job and taste like granola.” She counters.

They play through the deck of cards using five card draw rules. They threw in the added rule that the winner of each hand gets to ask a question of the loser.

Clarke won first. “I’m an only child, how about you?”

“One of eleven.”

Clarke’s eyes went wide and she sputtered out a little water, as she had just taken a sip. “Really.”

Lexa was laughing hard. “No.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “No. I have one brother, Aden. He’s young, just turned nineteen. We’re adopted.”

“You… You are evil.” Clarke laughs as she wipes her chin. “In the best way of course.” Clarke dealt out the last cards of the hand then laid hers down. “Three of a kind.”

“Full house. Most embarrassing moment. Oh and that water incident definitely doesn’t count.”

Clarke groaned. “Okay. But only if you tell me yours next?”

“Deal.” Lexa stuck out her pinkie, like a child. Clarke chuckled and pinkie swore with Lexa.

“My mom and dad had gone to the symphony and I invited my secret girlfriend over, we were seventeen. They came back early and she was most definitely topless in my lap. I wasn't out to my parents until that moment.”

“Brilliant. Okay, mine. I was new on the soccer team and I trying to impress a girl. Let’s just say I totally misjudged how much room I had, slammed right into the goal post and broke my nose.” Lexa laughed at the memory and shook her head. “Everyone saw. I didn’t even get the girl.”

“Oh, poor baby Lexa.” Clarke grinned.

Then they play dominos for a few hands, that was too slow. Next they work on the mad gabs.

“Okay Clarke, so with your answers they haiku reads: Ladybugs are purple, they have black spots on their knees. Experts at commuting.”

Clarke laughs. “Where is the lie?”

“I don’t know what kind of ocular deficiency you have or whether you just do a LOT of drugs. But ladybugs are decidedly not purple.” Lexa laughs as she leans over holding her side.

“I’ll have you know, I could draw a mean purple ladybug right now if we had the supplies.” Clarke huffs as she crosses her arm in mock offense. Lexa turns to the draw behind her again and pulls out a giant set of colored pencils and both blank paper as well as one of those adult coloring books.

“Alright Griffin, prove it.” She hands over the supplies and watches as Clarke’s eyes light up. The blonde puts the blank paper on top of the book on the floor, then begins to draw. Lexa is enamored by the smooth, confident lines the artist makes. Slowly, the image comes to life and the fact that it’s being shaded in with various purples means absolutely nothing. Clarke tongue pokes out of the side of her mouth as she focus’ on the drawing and Lexa thinks it may just be the cutest thing she has ever seen. As the drawing is completed, Clarke signs the bottom, then hands it to Lexa.

“One purple ladybug.” She catches the look of awe in Lexa’s eyes. “What?”

Lexa takes a long second to answer. “During an imminent threat warning are we on duty or no?”

“I think so. Yeah. Why?”

Lexa shakes her head. “Ask that again on Sunday.”

It takes one more hour before the Critical Response Team arrives and evacs them. The lockdown was in response to an active shooter called in for one of the offices. It turns out someone, probably now suspended, accidently discharged their sidearm.

Sunday, The Fourth of July, rolls around quickly and Lexa makes her way through the Griffin house. Well, house isn’t really the right word. The Griffin’s come from a long line of old money, so this place is best described as a mansion. She shakes hands with many of her Bureau superiors as she walks toward the rear of the property. She steps onto the large patio and makes her way to the bar that is set up. She gets her drink, an old fashion, then turns right into the path of one Jake Griffin.

“Ah, SSA Woods. Nice of you to join us.” Jake gives her what can only be described as the ‘Griffin smirk.’ She noticed it Friday night on Clarke face after the ladybug incident. “I hear you and Clarke met. She told me you ratted me and my diabolical plan out.”

She held her hands up in surrender. “Hey, I didn’t know it was a secret.”

Jake smiles at her and chuckles softly. “Well, in any case, she’s right over there if you have any more of my secrets. Have fun tonight Woods.”

Lexa slowly makes her way to where she can see Clarke standing with two men. One is standing closer than could be considered completely friendly, and the other just looks bored.

“Oh! Lexa! You made it!” Clarke calls over to her, then waves her over. “Finn, Bellamy, this is Supervisory Special Agent Lexa Woods. She’s in charge of the best team of Cyber Criminal hunter’s the Bureau has ever had.” Both men shake Lexa’s hand. “Lexa did you get a tour of the house?”

“No, I did not. But -”

“Oh! Well. Follow me, we need to fix that.” Clarke steps away from the men and loops her arm with Lexa’s. “Guys, enjoy your night.” She lead Lexa back inside the door and down a long hallway, then through a set of double doors into the library. “Thanks. I needed a scapegoat.”

“Anytime. This is a pretty impressive collection.” She walks to the nearest shelf and runs a finger down the spine of an old book. “Do you know those guys?”

“Oh, yeah. Bellamy and I have been friends forever. Finn is some guy my mom wanted me to date. I’m so not into him though.”

“No?”

Clarke closes the doors to the room. “Not in the slightest. So, Lexa. The other night you asked me if we were still on duty when we were on lockdown. Why did you ask that?”

“Oh right.” She quickly finishes her drink and sets it on the desk, then moves in front of Clarke. “You were doing this little thing, while you were drawing.” She steps into the waiting blonde’s space, who has no reaction, just follows the brunette with her eyes. So Lexa, decides to be bold, and reaches out and puts on hand on Clarke’s hip. “It was very cute, and I had the nearly overwhelming urge to kiss you.”

“Is that so?” Lexa nods quickly. “Well then. We aren’t on duty now, are we?”

“No. No we are not.”

#clexa fanfic #clexaweek2017 #clexa #fanfic #clarke griffin #lexa #the 100 #one shot

[decorfrontline]

Rustic Laundry Room Cabinet with Hutch

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Rustic Laundry Room Cabinet with Hutch

Even a small laundry room can be a dream laundry room with the right cabinet choices.  We just completed our custom Laundry Room (full tour here) and couldn’t be happier with how things turned out.  It’s been a few weeks, and the honeymoon is far from over – I can’t wait to use my laundry room and it is so pretty and neat and organized, I love being in the laundry room!  I think the only thing missing is a speaker so I can sing along while folding and sorting.

This is a huge change, going from piles of laundry – both clean and dirty – with clean on the bed and in short baskets and dirty on the floor and in taller hamper baskets.  The family is also loving always having their laundry put away and accessible.  I’m already weeding out closets too – since we don’t need as much clothes since it’s always clean!

You can see the entire laundry room and how I use it in this video

And the full blog post reveal for our laundry room here.

The big cabinet with sink and hutch has been the game changer.  I kept the height of the countertop at 32″ – so folding is the perfect height.

The hutch keeps everything put away

So the countertops are open for folding laundry.  If I run out of space on the countertops, I can use the lower shelves for added clean folded clothes temporary storage area until the kids get it put away. I do the folding, the kids put it all away.  

I orginially thought the sink would rarely be used, but it has quickly become second only to our kitchen sink!

My four year old son has claimed it, and brushes his teeth and get’s his own drinking water (we have amazing well water right out of the tap up here in Alaska).  He loves that he can keep a step stool there, and the sink is big enough that he can splash around and not worry about making a mess.

Once our baby gets here, we’ll be using it as a bathtub and for cleaning baby accidents, blow outs, spills and stains.  

The drawer directly across from the dryer is slatted on the bottom.  I use it as a “basket” and remove clothes from the dryer directly into the drawer.  I can then either fold immediately, or close the drawer and fold when I get to it.  This has been an amazing addition to the laundry room, completely taking the need for baskets (or bending over for the matter) out of my laundry system.  

The other drawers are “special” purpose – the one below the slatted is for “donate or hand-me-down” clothes that kids have either outgrown or we just aren’t wearing.  This is also where old T-Shirts go to become rags.

Another a drawer is used for special washes – for example, delicates, lights, down coats etc, and the fourth drawer is my bonus drawer where I can set things aside. Right now we are prepping for a spring break trip, so all clothes that I want to pack for this trip go direclty from the dryer, folded, and into this drawer.  I’m thinking I’ll use it for baby clothes once baby arrives.

Another little customization we did with a huge impact was hold the cabinet 12″ from the far wall.  This is to hide our mop bucket and cordless vacuum.  You would never know the mop bucket is there, but it sure is handy when you need it!

The big word on this cabinet is CUSTOM.  We built it to exactly suit our space and needs.  With our laundry room less than 60 square feet overall, we had to go custom to make it all work.  

I’m sharing the plans as we built our laundry cabinet below – but I highly recommend customizing to your family’s needs and habbits.  Think of how you use your laundry room, what needs to be stored in it, what processes you dread, and trick your laundry room out so doing laundry is a dream, not a chore.

You can watch us build this cabinet in this video–

And build for yourself with the plans below.

Enjoy the plans and please do share if you incorporate some or any of the ideas, we thrive off knowing our time blogging is benefiting you.

XO ANa

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