#hm gertie

[hee-blee-art]

part 2 of the new postman! alfred is nervous :)

[ <- part 1 ] [ directory ] [ part 3 -> ]

[ID: Five comic pages of a colourful cartoony toyland.

Basil, a black and white cat marionette, is walking down a small road. He reaches a large castle-looking wall with tall golden gates and gatehouse towers on either side. Beyond the wall is a sprawling city. Basil stops to take it all in in the morning light.

BASIL: [whistles] Well I’ll be. Kinda fancy ‘round here. Got a wall with a big gate and everything…

Sir Alfred, a nutcracker doll dressed in a red uniform and black cap, is sitting in one of the towers, engrossed in reading a book titled “The Mystery of the Emerald Spectacles.” He spots Basil through the outward facing window of the gatehouse and quickly sets the book aside and goes to the window, a little flustered. 

ALFRED: Oh! Hello! Good morning! Ahem—what can I help you with, good sir?

B: Well, opening up the gate would be a good start.

A: Right! Yes. My apologies, it’s usually open by now, I was just busy with, ehm—here—just a moment.

Alfred cranks the gate open and then joins Basil on the inside of it, now breathless from working the gate crank. Basil marvels at the city.

A: Welcome—huff, huff—to Toyhouse Corners!

Alfred dashes over to Basil and holds out his hand. 

A: I’m Sir Alfred, the gatekeeper and the town guard. And who might you be?

Basil looks at Alfred’s hand but doesn’t shake it. 

B: …Basil. Uh, Postman Basil. 

A: Postman? Is Gertie out sick today? 

B: Nope. I’m the new postman for this area—so, mostly your fair city, it seems. 

A: Oh! Hm. I wasn’t informed there was to be a switch up. What happened to Gertie?

B: [shrugging] Dunno. Maybe she kicked the bucket?

A: Good heavens! Well, I… I mean, I suppose she was getting up in years… oh my, how very dreadful.

B: Hold on, you said you’re Sir Alfred, right?

A: Uhm, yes, I am.

Basil digs around in his delivery bag.

B: You’re my first delivery.

end ID.]

#art #comic #webcomic #toys #nostalgia #toycore #nostalgiacore #comics #original comic #ocs #basil #postman basil #digital art #toyhouse corners #toyhouse corners comic #I'm going to keep posting installments here and rbing them to @toyhousecorners for now #I may switch to posting them directly there at some point

[antimatterz]

interesting turn of events

dan heng x gn!reader

typical "there's only one bed" trope but i've never written one before and wanted to do it once so here we are. no warnings.

content under the cut | masterlist

something about the dark, glum streets of boulder city left you with a smothered feeling. it was as if a weight lay upon your shoulders, slowing you down with its heaviness. it was exhausting, and the more time you spent outside, the more tired you became. maybe that was why all the citizens seemed so dull and gloomy. this town was completely void of a spark, nothing that brightened the misery. just being here made the sense of depression sneak up on you, and the continuous stress of the underworld netizens was contagious. 

along with your travel companion, you made your way through the town that was shrouded in darkness perpetually, looking for a place to stay and get some much-needed rest. 

     "you feel it too, huh?" dan heng asked, breaking the silence that had lingered between you for a while. 

     "feel what?" you asked, not immediately grasping what the male was getting at. 

     "the absence of hope," he explained, gazing into the dark distance afore you. "there's no joy here, no liveliness, nothing that brings a reason to live to these people. it's... depressing." 

     "yeah, it is," you agreed, nodding as you listened to his words. "i've spent a few days here and it's already weighing upon me. imagine having to spend your entire life here in the underworld." 

     "it's never been easy here, but ever since they sealed it off, the life has been sucked out of this place," dan heng mused, solemn eyes still looking ahead of him. "i can't wait to resolve this all and get back to the surface." 

     "i'm afraid it won't be fixed overnight," you sighed. just like dan heng, you weren't looking forward to staying here much longer. 

of course you had march with you, who brought quite some liveliness to the sullen atmosphere, but even the cheerful girl was affected by the gloominess of this place. and then there was dan heng, ever the pessimist – or realist, as he prefered to call it. everyone dealt with the situation here in their own way, and so did you. you made sure to keep a close eye on all your companions, and did what you could to console those who appeared to be heavily affected by the misery that had intricately weaved itself into the underground. 

     "i'm starting to fear that we have no other option than to spend the night in the goethe grand hotel again," dan heng commented as you passed through yet another alley. 

     "aww, you're acting as if it was that bad," you lightly mocked him. "okay, the mattress wasn't soft at all and it smelled really suspicious but at least we had a place to sleep." 

the male muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like an additional list of complaints he had regarding the goethe grand hotel, but he still led you through the dark streets towards the mentioned hotel. 

once inside, you were greeted by gertie, the owner of the old hotel. as cold and run-down as the building might've seemed, the woman greeted you warmly. 

     "hello ma'am, do you have two single rooms available for us?" dan heng asked politely. 

     "please, just call me gertie," the woman behind the desk waved dismissively. "i'll check right away, give me a moment." she went through a log on the desk in front of her, flipping through some pages before she found what she was looking for. "hm, i'm sorry. i only have one room available tonight. would that be a problem?" 

you and dan heng exchanged a look, and his face was as unreadable as ever. you had no idea what he thought about the situation that unfolded, and you had no idea what to say. a silence followed, in which gertie's face grew from questioning to mildly confused.

it was dan heng who first cleared his throat, shaking his head.

     "it's no problem," he answered, and you just nodded along.

     "it isn't," you agreed.

but really, wasn't it? on the inside you were freaking out mildly. you barely just met dan heng, and though you got along just fine, you wouldn't say you were on sharing-a-room terms. but it was either that or finding an even lousier place to stay, which held no appeal to you at all. 

     "excellent, here are your keys to room six," gertie announced, handing the keys to the male next to you. "enjoy your stay, and don't forget to leave a review." 

you instantly thought back to the reviews you already left behind, twice. your reviews had been nothing but positive, even though the hotel wasn't all that great. gertie was a kind woman, and you simply couldn't find it in you to leave a review that voiced your true feelings about the facility. but to leave the same review yet another time? hm. maybe you'd just ignore the parchment in the dresser. 

you followed your travel companion up the creaky wooden stairs that brought you to the first floor, and the male swiftly opened the door to hotel room six. it was dark and plain and it screamed poverty, much like the rooms you previously stayed in. there was, however, something that caught your eye – and judging from the way dan heng's eyes had widened, he noticed too. there was one bed, a single-person bed, and nothing close to a couch or sofa or anything else to sleep on. you felt your heartbeat pick up as realization hit you.

     "uhm," you brought out. "dan heng, there's only one bed." 

     "so i noticed," the male replied dryly. 

     "what do we do now?" you asked. 

     "simple. you take the bed, i'll sleep on the floor," dan heng shrugged. it wasn't even a suggestion; it was a solution already set in stone – for dan heng, at least. you weren't quite having it.

     "i don't think sleeping on the floor is a good idea," you hesitantly brought up. "we're supposed to meet with serval tomorrow and who knows what will happen after that? we need all the rest we can get, and sleeping on the moldy floor won't result in proper rest." 

     "so what do you suggest, y/n?" dan heng questioned, arching a brow. 

     "i-i was thinking, why don't we just... share the bed?" you reluctantly spoke up, eyes trained on the wooden bed as you refused to look at him. "that way, no one has to sleep on the floor." 

     "a single-person bed isn't made for two people to sleep in," dan heng stated matter-of-factly. "but i see your point, i don't think sleeping on the floor would do us any good." 

and with that, it was pretty much decided. you and dan heng – the mysterious guy you secretly admired from the very moment you opened your eyes and found him about to perform cpr on you – were about to sleep in the same bed. to be fair, you were struggling to keep your cool, but you didn't want to make a fool out of yourself in front of your travel companion. so you turned around, telling dan heng that you were going to change into your sleeping attire and heading into the bathroom. once there, you breathed out. it's no big deal, you kept telling yourself.

really, it wasn't.

as you deemed yourself ready, you exited the bathroom and the male went in after you. hesitantly, you made your way over to the bed and crawled under the covers. now it didn't matter what dan heng would do; you had secured your spot on the bed. maybe he would have a change of heart and decide to sleep on the floor regardless – no, that was unfair to think. it was you who came with this suggestion in the first place.

you lay in a manner that made your back face the bathroom door, nervously awaiting it to creak open. eventually, it did, and dan heng came out. you shut your eyes tightly, and your heart did multiple somersaults when you felt the mattress dip besides you as the male sat down. you heard the covers rustle as he shifted, and you shuffled as close to the edge as you could. it was uncomfortable, but imagine accidentally touching dan heng? no, you would spontaneously combust out of sheer shame and you were positive he wouldn't necessarily appreaciate it, either.

it wasn't comfortable, as you lay stiffly, afraid to move – or do so much as breathe in and out steadily. you were hyperaware of the body that lay next to you. because the bed was so small, he was close to you, regardless of how much you tried to keep your distance. your back was facing him, but you inhaled his scent nevertheless, and boy, he smelled good. fresh and comforting, like the fleeting touch of jasmin flowers. it made you want to crawl closer to him, to breathe in deeply and fall asleep against him, basking in comfort. but aeons, you would never have the guts to do so. dan heng would surely be freaked out.

or would he?

"y/n?" he muttered after a long silence.

a little surprised, you halfheartedly turned around. it had been quiet for a long time, and you were certain he would've been asleep by now. well, apparently he wasn't. you caught his gaze, illuminated by the dying oil lamp on the nightstand.

"good, you're awake," dan heng stated.

"yeah," you said, very much confirming the obvious. "what's it?"

"you know..." the male began, trailing off after barely speaking two words. he seemed to think, his eyes darting away from you momentarily. he didn't look like he would speak up anytime soon, but you didn't urge him on. dan heng was the quiet type, usually not too happy when he was forced to talk. so you let him, waiting patiently.

you followed his gaze, only to find that he was looking at nothing in particular. though the oil lamp casted a warm hue upon the furniture and walls, it was hard to make out details and dan heng was pretty much staring into a void of nothingness. that was really out of character for him; even though he was silent often, his gaze was always focused and aware. now you fully turned around to face him properly, temporarily forgetting about your previous worries.

"were it anyone else, i would've objected," he spoke up after recollecting himself. "as in, i would've slept on the floor."

"what?" you questioned dumbly, not getting it.

"i like you," dan heng bluntly said. "that's why i agreed on spending a night in the same bed as you. i thought about it and realized, were it march who asked me to, i would've refused blatantly. i don't mean any offense but –"

"hold up," you said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "you what?"

"i said what i said, y/n. i like you," the male repeated, finally looking straight at you. "i simply found you attractive from the start, but as we are spending time together here in belobog, i grew attracted to how you are as a person just as much. i'm sorry if this catches you off-guard, but i've been thinking it over and felt like i had to say it."

you stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. dan heng liked you? now that was something you never dared to hope for. surely, with you it also started with an infatuation, but spending time with dan heng made you realize that you also liked him. and now he was telling you he liked you back?

"you didn't inhale too many geomarrow particles, did you?" you hesitantly joked, not believing what was happening.

"i'm dead serious, y/n." dan heng shook his head. "you know me, i barely joke around, let alone in a situation like this." his hand reached out to find your cheek gently, and he looked at you solemnly. "now, i am slowly losing my facade if you don't say something back."

you instantly cracked a smile, placing your hand on top of his.

"i would've never suggested sharing a bed if it wasn't you," you told him. "i like you too. it started when i opened my eyes and found a hot guy bent over me, about to give me cpr, but as time passed –"

"you think i'm hot?" dan heng asked, and for the very first time, you caught a hint of amusement lingering on the edge of his voice.

"ah, forget i said anything," you uttered, instantly turning around so your back was facing him once more. aeons, that was stupid!

you heard dan heng chuckle, and two arms snaked around your waist from behind. he pulled you closer to him, gently hugging you against his chest.

"don't lay so close to the edge of the mattress, you might fall off."

you only nodded, inhaling his scent as you realize your previous wish had suddenly come true. who would've thought? was this real? were you dreaming? or were you the one high on geomarrow particles? you had no idea, but you decided not to care. smiling softly, you nuzzled closer to the male. you'd see tomorrow; for now you were going to enjoy this.

#dan heng #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr dan heng #dan heng hsr #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #honkai #honkai star rail dan heng #— enyo writes

[critrolesideblog]

Essek and Caleb lounge in the bed in the room that was once Caleb's and is now theirs. Their legs tangle beneath the silken sheets as they lean against an excess of pillows, both things Caleb has gotten into the habit of including in the casting of the tower in recent months, should his Kryn colleague arrive. A tray with a charcuterie board overflowing with fruits, cheeses, meats, and other snacks is held aloft between them by the tail a spectral cat as they sip on chilled wine and discuss their recent adventures.

"So anyway," says Caleb. "Once I had shapechanged, I cast Gravity Fissure. Of course, I tried to aim so it would only hit Uk'otoa…" There is a long pause in which Caleb expects a chorus of whispers, but Essek merely raises a curious eyebrow.

"Is something wrong?"

"Ah, no, it is nothing."

"Why did you pause?"

"It is nothing, truly." Caleb waves a mildly chagrinned hand. "It is one of our bits, you know. I don't suppose we've had cause to do it around you much. Usually, when someone says Uk'otoa, everyone else whispers Uk'otoa. I merely paused out of habit."

"Ah, I see," Essek replies, picking among the snacks on the tray. "I missed my cue. Please --" he pops a grape into his mouth -- "back to your story. Say that last part again, and I'll do the bit."

"That isn't necess--"

"No, no, please. I believe you were casting some advanced dunamancy." There is a warm flame of desire kindling behind his lilac eyes as he takes a sip of wine.

"Ah, yes, I cast Gravity Fissure at Uk'otoa--"

"Uk'otoa," Essek chimed in his normal, conversational tone. "… Like that?"

". . . Hm, well, ja, normally we really lean into the stage whisper: Uk'otoa -- like that."

"Ah, I see. Once more, once more." He beckons imperiously as he searches for another snack on the tray.

"I cast the spell at Uk'otoa--"

"Uk'otoa," Essek's voice dips deep in tone, but not volume. The sort of voice he often used as Shadowhand. "Like that?"

Caleb narrows his eyes at him, and practiced as he is now at seeing past the serene masks Essek wears, when Essek glances at him sidelong, he sees plainly the amusement and mischief hiding in the slight quirk of his eyebrow and narrowing of his eyes. Caleb tosses a small wedge of cheese toward his head for his trouble, which sails past its mark, and the spectral cat, Gertie, swats it out of the air. The mischief and amusement come out hiding entirely as Essek lays back on the pillows laughing. Dimples appear on his cheeks as he laughs, and Caleb can't help but reach out run his thumb along Essek's cheekbone as he commits the image to memory. Essek leans into the touch with a small sigh.

"If you are quite done fucking with me," Caleb says, after a moment, tossing a blackberry at him. It slows in its trajectory mid-air and, with a guiding swish of his hand, Essek floats it into his waiting teeth.

"Fucking with you?" Essek's voice is still silky and deep as he rises from the pillows. "Not at present, but that can certainly be arranged." The fire in Essek’s eyes catches in Caleb’s heart.

"Hm, Gertie, I think that will be all for now."

#might I interest you in some self-indulgent fluff this Sunday afternoon #shadowgast #my writing tag #caleb widogast #essek thelyss

[halevren]

FHJY Spoilers || my live thoughts as I watch episode 11

three hours. three hours along. this might take me a bit to get through 😭😭 I might not note every little thought because that's. A lot. But definitely a good portion of the normal random stuff

THE CONTENT WARNINGS ARE CONCERNING ME.... BODY HORROR??? GORE??? THIS ISN'T A HORROR SEASON. I THOUGHT THIS WAS GOING TO BE A FUN HAHA SEASON???? WHAT??????????

HELLO ONE AND ALL

Ally Brennan Beardsley Mulligan

"What if just shows up for the interview" well I guess that means riz and fig have to create a

PETE WENTZ IS WANDA'S (RECENT) EX BOYFRIEND

"Cause if I say it to Brennan, I'll just be wrong"

CANCELLED 😭

im showing my emo autistic friend this session because they know literally everything about emo bands and apparently Pete Wentz has drank piss multiple times before. Hm.

"Let him sweat"

Mommy/baby time??????

"You are my little baby"

Sklonda embarrassing Riz to Fig is so real and accurate

spys tongue

spy's tongue or spies tongue

Very Humanoid Animals 😭😭😭😭😭😭

AN ORANGUTAN

NAT ONE BECOMES 23 🔥🔥🔥🔥

19 steal orangutan tho

VOMITING

NAT 20 MURPH

BROKEN CRYSTAL??

BLOOD SPLATTER?

oh goodness

Something happened here

CONFUSED?

STABS HER HAND?

Copperkell

Riz asking his mom to see dead bodies

omg did Kalina say Ragh Barkrock because she wanted them to investigate everything that she did back then in reference to him specifically (like the killing clone Lydia / destroying the house, etc.)

Emergency meeting. Even you Fabian.

CARBONIZED BLOOD?

rage kills

CRRRRRRIT it's a 7

IDENTIFY SPELL!!!!!!!

oh no. Brennan why you asking the state of emotions

"Fuck"

TWO IN ONE ONE IN TWO

Identify spell is overwhelmed

ATTACKS ADAINE????

NAT 20 PERCEPTION CHECK

The rot of dead gods??

INTERIOR OF A BODY?

gross gross gross gross

"gorgug..... very good....."

"You have to tip me this time" "nah"

building a God??? oh my...

The daymare queen

Bobby Dawn.

Asking what would make Kristen angry is such a loaded question. So much stuff

"My president!"

gorgug just grabs the angry shard

"I did not tell you I shit." "No, the whole school knows about it"

ADAINE HAS A SCOOTER?

AELWYN ASKED THE SHELTER FOR ALL THE UNWANTED CATS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

AND SHE'S ALLERGIC TO CATS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"I have so much love to give exclusively to cats"

Camaraderie in toxicity

SHE HAS NO FRIENDS 😭😭

omg aelwyn and fabian boned

"Fuck you. Bitch"

Malarkey

"Tell Kristen to not come back."

zac's little shrugs hehehehe

"I drive down to bastion city and do crimes."

"I shall steal everyone's bones"

THE CATS CAN SMELL THE WARD AND THEY WON'T TAKE THE MEDICINE

aelwyn my beloved I love her so much

FIG DISGUISED AS KIPPERLILLY COPPERKETTLE

Ruben is just constantly being terrorized by fig in the dreamscape

devil's nectar Gertie infodump

KRISTEN AND GERTIE KISSED

"Okay, well let's go out sometime. I'm painfully single, uh, and none of my friends wanna see me naked anymore." Kristen Applebees you are so fascinating

LOCAL FOOD TRUCKS? THE FUCKING FOOD TRUCK FEST

KRISTEN MAKING OUT WITH GERTIE TO DISTRACT HER FROM FABIAN

"Kristen, you know that's my nemesis right?"

KRISTEN GOT HER KISSES IN 🎉🎉🎉

RIZ IS ON THE SCHOOL STAFF?????

LET FIG BECOME THE CLERIC TEACHER

LET WANDA CHILDA BECOME THE CLERIC TEACHER

A CV OF WANDA CHILDA

A WICKER PAPER??????

"I pooped right now."

Adaine over break research paper of curses

RUBEN IS HENRY'S NEPHEW

NAT 20 GORGUG PERCEPTION

He leaves the motherboard.... I worry that it might be stolen by someone else

"Seems suspect." "What do you mean suspect?" "Seems Suspect" their sibling dynamic is so real

THEY BROUGHT ZAYN!!!!

how did they get Zayn through TSA

TELEMAINE HAS A LITTLE THING THAT SAYS GORGUG'S NAME 😭😭😭😭😭

YAK BAK

GRAPE NIP

Hillariel is so pretty

GILEAR IS SO STRESSED

GILEAR SAID FUCK

Gilear is the only person who has made the fig curse the main priority

"I want the yogurt back on my shirt"

ALL THE MONEY GILEAR IN THIS SITUATION MAKES GOES STRAIGHT TO ADAINE

"HE GRABS ME?"

RIZBERT

"TELEMAINE STOP BULLYING ME"

(High pitch voice) "how did she bring winter?"

I heavily fw gertie x tracker

THEIR PLAN B IS SHRIMP JUMP

CRAW FATHERS

GORGUG CLEARLY PISSED OFF

oh fig.... I feel so connected to you

"Who's Wanda Childa....?" "She's my alter emo"

Sandra is so true. I often ask my friends how they percieve me so I can understand myself better.

"What if I punished this man to eternal rock"

"I don't want to see that." Sandra grabs fig's cigarette and takes a hit instead.

SPY'S TONGUE LORE

Kalina with the Spy's Tongue........

I love this lore and conspiracy theories talk

they're annoying but have great record keeping

GORGUG PUT HIS HEADPHONES ON THE SECOND THEY ENTERED THE CHURCH

NAT 20 INSIGHT

Narnia burning man

Fig and Fabian are living it UP

tracker............. i can't say I like her very much after that phone call. So I'm not the most thrilled to see her.

GORGUG PUSHING EVERYONE OUT OF THE WAY TO THE HOT CHOCOLATE

WORLD STAR

Half the party is living it up having hot coco while the other half is experiencing / witnessing a very emotional moment

RUNES RELATING TO GIANT DEITIES

GIFT EXCHANGE

PIPES OF THE SEWERS

CHA CHA CHA CHA CHA CHA CHA

THE RATETTES

EAR WORM?

"PUT ME IN YOUR BRAIN"

A PULL UP BAR!!!! IMMOVABLE BAR

BRACERS OF DEFENSE

"Oh shit they're so practical. I have to wear bracers. What can I do? They're so tactic?"

RIDDLER RIZ?

FIRE GIANT JUICE

"Is this legal?" "It's Not."

WOODEN ORANGUTAN MASK

SO MUCH HOLE

HE SENDS A TEXT TO MAZEY THEN PUTS HIS PHONE ON AIRPLANE MODE

KRISTEN NOOOOO

THE BAR

assisted pull ups 🔥🔥🔥

Naradriel is actually so sweet

Hillsong / wolfsong close enough

NAT 20 INVESTIGATION CHECK FOR MURPH

SCORTCH MARK?

LIST OF NAMES??

WEDDING CONTRACT

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

RUVINA MAID OF HONOR

THE MASK

"PUT THE HOLES AWAY AND MAKE THEM"

WHAT'S THE NAME. WHAT'S THE NAME. WHAT'S THE NAME. WHAT IS IT. WHAT IS THE NAME BRENNAN

OH GOD

ANKARNA

GLOWS RED? OH MY GOD FIENDISH ENERGY

ADAINE BROUGHT BACK ARKARNA AND LYDIA'S CHEST CRYSTAL

OH MY GOD IF LYDIA DIES I'M GONNA PUNCH MY WALL /HJ

negative one initiative........

SAVING ROLLS FOR FIG? WHY

PRIDE ARMOR

THE MOON BEGINS TO WHAT?

TEARS HER FLESH? OH GOD

BRIDE ARMOR

CASSANDRA IS PROTECTING THEM 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

SEVERAL DIVINE INTERVENTIONS ARE HAPPENING SIMULTANEOUSLY IN CONFLICT??????????

FIG INTO THE BRIEF CASE JUST LIKE GILEAR WAS

SIX LEVEL COUNTERSPELL

COUNTER SPELL CRIT!!!!!!!!!

FIG WAS ALMOST KILLED?????????????

RIZ JUMPS AFTER FIG

BARONNNN FROM THE BARONIES

ROËMAENCE PARTNÆR

FABIAN DIDN'T JUMP INTO THE BRIEF CASE. GORGUG, FIG AND RIZ HAVE SO FAR

okay thank god fabian did jump in

DIVINE INTERVENTION ROLL

DEATH WARD ON AELWYN 🔥🔥

BARON IS WARNING KRISTEN?

DID WE JUST WATCH GILEAR FIG DIE?

NAT 20 DEX THROW FOR KRISTEN

what dimension are they in. What is riz's briefcase

ENDING OFF ON A ROLL FOR INITIATIVE??

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FEEL WHAT

#fantasy high junior year spoilers #fhjy spoilers #dimension 20 #d20 #fantasy high #d20 fantasy high #dimension 20 fantasy high #fantasy high junior year

[sothischickshe]

trick or treat!!!

Thank you sweetie 😘😘😘

OK, how about the new beginning to the fic I'm supposedly editing?

Gertie’s truly is a shithole. Abrasively bright bulbs dot its ceiling, providing an ambience nobody is looking for of a bar while glaring nude upon his pummelled pupils. Near half those fixtures are busted but the fact offers only barest relief: that pervasive glare off high gotta be almost worse on the corneas at his shadowier spot than from any island of intense luminosity he bypassed when selecting this outlying spot along the bar. Considerable cobwebs, plus every stain across the close-by clutch of once-cream tabletops, are distressingly easy to catch sight of in this position anyhow.

Vision now sweeping rapid, Rio’s reminded how none of the interior doors entirely fit their frame; journeying for the bathroom’ll involve huffing and froing along that cluttered back hall come fall… This forms a further frustration for forward-fucking-looking, with the year steadily burning onward.

In distracted irritation he huffs deep, subsequently imbibing the upholstery’s reek. As perpetual, it’s of stale tobacco mixed with some pickling fishiness despite the fact he’s never clocked a soul smoking nor eating inside.

Yeah, Gertie’s gotta be at least two or three rungs below your classic dive. A flop, that might be. In more ways than the one though it remains convenient — no trait worth sniffing scornful over — being only a block and a half up from his own bar makes it a handy location to slide upon when not in a particularly, hm, conspicuous mode.

(and for comparison, here's how it started.)

Trick or treat me(me)!

#Fanfiction #Writing #nbc good girls #tv #Have I been working on this for over 2 years?! 🤯 O dear #I'm not sure I like the newer version more than the old one but o well! #I'm also not sure you'll like this fic sweetie as it's v angsty and fts a lot of r1o/not b3th & some b3th/not r1o #But o well maybe you'll trust me on this journey 😈 #Y is it over 136k ooh la la #On editing #Y am I better at editing on my phone; it's not a convenient way to do it waah! #Something

[verfound]

WIP Tag Asks?  Oh dear.  😬

A-hem.  @nerdypanda3126 is mean and knows exactly what she’s doing she has seen the Hoard y’all.  It’s been a hot minute since I did that Festering Folder WIP Wednesday, and the Hoard has not shrunk at all.  There’s a reason I’m the WIP Dragon.  😬

Anyway.  😂  Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips. (You can make your own post or reblog this one!)  I have deemed that this isn’t just for writing either. Sketch titles? Comics? Dnd campaigns? If you have an unfinished project, it counts!!  (I am only doing the MLB ones, since that’s the fandom I’m mostly writing these days and the list will be over 500 long if I include all the fandoms.  😂)

and I...am putting this under a cut bc apparently the list is five pages long...   😬  Also, Quick had a great idea: the tag WIP Wednesday: Festering Folder Edition talks about some of these, if you want to go for something new/I haven’t discussed yet.  🖤

·     All Our Broken Pieces

·     Alya Césaire is Just Trying to Help

·     And by the End of this Fic, We’ll be More than Just Friends

·     And You Thought the Bathtub was Good

·     Angsty Little Gremlin Baby

·     At the End of the Aisle

·     Banana Bread

·     Before I Say Goodnight

·     BlackBoard Blunders

·     Boat Life Not Gimmick

·     Booty Call

·     Bread Brothers

·     Breakup Songs

·     Burrow Down

·     Card Captor Sakura AU

·     Community Service

·     Coffee Shop Soundtrack

·     Coyling

·     Crayonarchy

·     Dammit AC

·     Dead Girls Tell No Tales

·     Dead Like Me AU

·     Evening Officer

·     Family Dessert

·     Fu’s Florals

·     Fun with Arts and Crafts

·     Futuresee

·     Give a Mergirl a Starfish

·     Guardian Stone

·     Haaave You Met Mari

·     Here in this Diary

·     Hey Let’s Do a Singalong

·     Hey Sicky

·     His Most Prized Possession

·     I Didn’t Expect to See You Here

·     I Didn’t Run

·     I Guess I Live Here Now

·     I Need Nipples

·     I Stand Alone

·     I Think I’ll Call Her Fang

·     If This is a Rom Com

·     It Ain’t Made of Kevlar

·     Jagged Loves Jagged

·     Julie & the Phantoms Untitled Crossover

·     Just Your Avg Sat

·     Karma Chameleon

·     LBSC SA 2022 – Dropout

·     Legally Blonde AU

·     Let’s Smoosh Faces

·     Luka Streaks On

·     Making it Work

·     MegaMind AU

·     Missed Point

·     Octothorpe JAG

·     Off Me Ship

·     Oh You’re Vocal

·     One More Time with You

·     Opportunity Presents Itself

·     Ordered Chaos

·     Our FirstFirstFirst Date

·     Pandora’s Box

·     Pants Aren’t RocknRoll

·     Paper Notes

·     Park Bench

·     Pink Fish Blue Fish

·     Please Come to Boston

·     Princess Heartmaker

·     Reality Jagged

·     Remembering You

·     See You at Gate 52

·     Sexy Guitar Guy p2

·     Snapshots of Us

·     Some People Say Hi

·     Soultember – Welcome to the Gray

·     Spinnerette

·     Suitcase Pancakes

·     That Agreste Guy was HM

·     The Couffaines’ Little Suicide Machines

·     The Girl with Flowers in Her Bones

·     The Quarantine Kwami Baking Championship

·     The Storm Rages On

·     The Tip Goes In

·     The Unexpected Roommate

·     They Know Where to Find Me

·     This is My Angry Face

·     Unsolicited Advice

·     Untitled 2-9; 11 (Selkie AU); 12-16; 17 (TS Baking Meet Cute)

·     Voodoo Viperion

·     We’re a Chance Left Untaken

·     When the Clock Strikes 13

·     Weight of it All

·     You’re Doll’s Haunted

 House Band:

·     A Harmonious Christmas

·     A Kick in the Head p2

·     Anyone Ever Told You

·     Barnyard in D

·     Can I Help

·     Dance Little Sister

·     Darnin Can You Hear Me SOS

·     Dear Old Gertie

·     Dewey’s Diet

·     Every Third Year

·     Favorite Mugs

·     Harold the Glitter Cow

·     I Already Said Goodbye

·     I’m a Unicorn

·     Kicking Things Off

·     Letting Go

·     Maman’s Day Surprise

·     Maman’s First Maman’s Day

·     Maman’s Night Out

·     Melody Super Spy

·     Papas Don’t Get Sick Days

·     Papa’s Ink

·     Piggy Sue

·     Pocket Pals

·     Sing 2 Death AU

·     Squeaks

·     Surround Sound

·     Take It Off

·     The baby Swing

·     The Cookie Principle

·     The Sexiest What Now

·     They were Supposed to be

 Dingo Files:

·     5 Things Luka Regrets Telling Dingo

·     ABBA Doesn’t Shred

·     Adrien is a Fcking Idiot ·     Adrien is Still a Fcking Idiot

·     Alibi

·     All I Want for Christmas

·     Australian Conditioning

·     Basement Corpse

·     Be More Dingo

·     But We’re Thinking of Changing Our Name

·     Cell Block Dingo

·     Coming Up Schlort

·     Ding Attenborough

·     Dingho

·     Dingo’s Cock

·     Five Words

·     Hail the Motherland

·     He Travels for Work

·     Here’s the Latest

·     Hoist the Colors

·     Ininko Montoya

·     Jellyfish Suck

·     Maybe I Could Love You

·     MLWeeklyPrompts: Only a Kiss

·     MLWeeklyPrompts: Operation SSASS

·     Nails

·     Never Check 3 AM Texts

·     Nothing for Christmas

·     Peregrine King

·     Personal Use

·     Rich Boys Don’t Stink

·     Right to Remain Stupid

·     Stealing Smoochies

·     Stowaway

·     Sunglasses

·     Sur-prise

·     That Time it was Luka’s Fault

·     Tie Me Up

·     Twins Damocles

·     Who’s Mari

·     Who’s Your Daddy

 Winters:

·     A Day in Your Scales

·     Brooms Aren’t Just for Cleaning

·     Human Feet

·     I Want One

·     Keep Your Mate Warm

·     Snake Tales

·     Snakefolk can be Fluff

·     Spring in the Citadel

·     Spring is for a Summons

·     Spring is for Courtship

·     Summer Skin

·     Summers are for Celebrating

·     Summers can be Hot

·     The Stairs

No pressure tagging...oooh, how about @livrever @19thsentry-blog @haphira and @ladyfreya123 ?  (Nerd already got Quick, Min, & Laurel 😂)

#wip folder #wip hoard #wip dragon #wip ask game #oh dear #maybe I'll do this Sunday #SSS festerng folder edition 👀

[smile-files]

another little comic! 

fun fact: peppo’s plushie is from build-a-pear workshop.

#hello mello #hm #hm peppo #hm gertie #comic #dandy's doodles #i love this #bright colors

[slasherrabbitmadness]

Victorian DILF Brahms x Female Reader

Series: Don't forget who you belong to.

Chapter 2 - Give me your answer, do

Underthecut - NSFW, Male Masturbation, Oral - Male Receiving.

Brahms sat idly in his living room, leaning back in his large leather recliner. Feet shuffling along the Egyptian carpet, thumbs twiddling as he hums Daisy Bell by Harry Dacre,

"I'm half crazy, all for the love of you." He smiles as he thinks of her. How her hair shines in the sun, like a halo above her head. Her eyes sparkling whenever she laughs, how the corner of her eyes crinkles ever so slightly. How her smile makes his heart skip a beat.

Brahms sucks in a breath, his hum-singing continues, "There are bright lights the dazzling eyes of beautiful Daisy Bell." He sits up straight, eyes on the unlit fireplace, the gold gate held an ornate Chinese dog welded on the front. He looks above the fireplace to the mantel, the rows of photos in their ash wood frames.

His face is stern as he glances at a particular photo. He, a half-smile as his hand rests on his son's shoulder. Lawrence when he was a boy of eight. Lawrence's other shoulder had a delicate white hand upon it. Gerti, her lips dark with her favourite shade of lipstick, her slight freckles littered her face, her silky blonde hair up in a beautiful age-appropriate bun.

His hum-singing fades as he continues to stare, the family photo, the family in the photo appearing as sharp and elegant as their social standing. That day, Gerti had scolded him all morning, her eyes wide and glossy, her alabaster skin held a blue and yellow hue under her eyes. Her fingers were cold and clammy.

"For the love of everything, Brahms, hurry for once." Brahms flinches as he can still hear her screeching, "Lawrence, get the cat's paw out of your mouth and stop pulling its tail!" He chuckles,

"I miss that cat," Brahms laughs to himself. Never one for pets but how that scraggly little beast could make his son laugh in the most jovial way, warmed him greatly.

His amused grin falls as his eyes lock with Gerti's. Grabbing the photo, his thumb ghosts over her image, remembering how once soft her skin was. His stomach churns as a chill seeps into his bones, shaking him in his spot.

He places the family photo back on the mantle, right next to a photo of her. Her hands grasping each other, face tilted slightly, a timid smile upon her face. "Sir, I don't need my photo taken!"

"Y/n, as my employee of a year, you are practically family." Brahms let out a shaky breath as his mind replays the conversation. "And you may call me, Brahms. You address Gerti by her full name."

"Gerti and are intimate in ways that have allowed us to be close."

"Pray tell may I watch these intimate moments?" His cheeky reply had cost him an ear full from his wife when she had found out. Brahms still never understood why women used such charged words to describe a close friendship.

Brahms left the living room, a stirring in his gut had him heave. He wanted to call upon her for aid, 'Fetch me a water with some ice, and actually bring some black tea and one of our lemons from Italy.' he clears his throat at the thought of dryness being washed back by the cold refreshment.

He had given her a few hours a week for personal time. Free to be spent however she pleased. Ever since the death of his wife and Lawerence attending Rugby School for Boys she had more free time. Much to Brahms immense displeasure.

Brahms had taken to stalking her on her days off. Wanted to see what she got up to. Where she went and specifically with who. He would linger twenty feet behind, always darting behind stalls and other tall men to hide, he even took to wearing a coat that he kept hidden in hopes she would not recognize him further.

He stared in amazement at how well she helped an old lady onto the trolley all the while juggling her belongings, refusing a 'tip' "It's the nice thing to do." in reference to helping others.

His cheeks flushed whenever she stopped to smell the flowers, literally. A quaint smile as she turned down the offer for a free one from the vendor. She often stopped to sniff the white and yellow flowers. He had noticed Daisys were her favorite.

He seethed when one day you were stopped by a handsome Youngman, his tall lean frame stood confidently as his dark brown eyes held a softness as they looked down at you. He had overheard the name in a distinctly American accent, "Dan, yeah I'm studying medicine with my colleague, I'd introduce you but..." He hated that you always walked near the campus, hated all the young men eager, too eager to chat up a single young lady.

Dan had never gotten farther than chaste conversations and one quick feather-light kiss on her cheek.

Brahms wondered if he should up and move, just to be a little further away from the university, away from the young men, away from one of them stealing her away. She was his, he had just yet to convince her. Ask her, even bring it up in any conceivable way.

One occasion made the blood sear in his veins. He should have been more away, should have been more vigilant of this Dan fellow. He watched from a distance as Dan rounded the corner and collided with her. His tall body fell over hers, his hand had just managed to catch the back of her head, softening to the blow to the ground.

"Oh, God! I am so sorry!" Dan's eyes wide in shock, "Oh, I'm so sorry."

She laughed, "No, no, it's fine," Brahms gritted his teeth.

"No, it's not." Dan pulled himself and her up, his hand holding her in a firm grasp. "I am so sorry." He scratched the back of his head, his expression doleful.

"Accidents happen." She assured, grabbing his hand still wrapped around hers. " It's okay Dan."

"You remember me!" Dan's brown eyes lit up. A Radiant smile over his face as he stepped closer to her.

Brahms seethed as the scene played out before him. She smiled, he smiled. She laughed, he laughed. The words between the two began to fall effortlessly between them both.

He watched despondently. How she could let herself relax so easily in another man's presence. How her demeanor shifted around Dan. Those stiff shoulders eased themselves as Dan placed his hand on her shoulder and winked.

Brahms cursed, the university's chapel bell rang out. Every thunderous clang shot through Brahms. Every clang was a reminder he had another place to be. The dreaded desk in the dreaded little corner of his office.

He turned one last time, eyes watched as she smiled with a warmth he'd never seen, how she leaned into Dan as his smile shined bright.

Brahms walks up to his maid's room, thanking Gerti for installing a sense of comfort in Y/N as to never locking the door.

He jiggles the door handle, "Hm..." Again, "Weird," his eyes narrow, "Bloody thing is locked." He jostles the handle, "Bloody woman..."

Click

"Ah, there we are." He hums in approval as the door creaks open. Forever grateful for the previous owner teaching him how to easily unlock a door in the house without a key "Rickety ol' tings" Brahms mocked the man's heavy accent.

He inhales as he enters her room. The simple little abode warmed his heart. Her bed and the nightgown left upon it stirred his loins. He walks to the bed, grabs the nightgown, bringing it to his nose, he growls as he inhales, her natural scent lingered on the garment.

Brahms holds the garment in his teeth as he shucks off his pants, freeing his painfully erect cock. The thoughts whirl in his mind as he plops onto her bed, sighing with content as he sinks down into the mattress and a sneer as he grips his cock.

The same bed she slept, where when the night calls for it, he knew she'd sleep naked. "Fuck..." He growls through the nightgown, ripping it from his mouth to place it over his chest. Her bed, her bed where she no doubt has touched herself, even if briefly in a beautiful sinful manner.

Does she shy away as she dipped those delicate little fingers into her dripping pussy? Does she bite her cheek to stifle her pitchy moans when that jolt of pleasure shot through her?

Brahms collects some spit in his large hand, sucking in a breath as his cold spit touches his cock. His hand pumps eagerly around his thick member, a low groan as the image of her crawling up to him floods his mind. He sighs as he pictures it as her hand gripping him, gasping at how large it is,

"Brahms, my fingers can't even wrap around it!"

"That's okay, love, use those pretty little lips and that wet little tongue to help you."

"What if my make-up smears?"

"Oh, love, that's what I want." Brahms throws his head back, thumb circling his swollen head, picturing it as her delicate wet little tongue. He grips himself harder as he swears he can feel her lips wrap around his cock.

His low groans and breathy moans fill her little room, her name falling from his lips, "So beautiful, Y/N. My love, so perfect, mhm, yes, further down your throat, moaning around it."

Brahms breathing hitches as he pictures her, clawing at his chest as tears prick the corner of her eyes, "I'm a little nervous," She says as she rubs her glistening pussy, inches over his leaking cock.

"You got this, my love." Brahms keens,

"Will it fit, Brahms?..." She bites her lip, a hand groping her beautiful chest.

"My love, just relax, I have you." He pictures gripping her hip to ease her down onto him, gripping his cock as he imagines her warm pussy gripping him.

Audible slaps from the fisting of his cock, mixing with his now desperate pleas and moans fill her room. She's on top of him, her chest flushed against his, she's commenting on how she loves the feel of his hairy chest, praised-filled moans as she comments on his pecs flexing under her.

Brahms bucks his hips into his hand, "Hold you close." He moans as he pictures rolling on top of her, her legs wrapping around his lower half, arms pulling him in close, whispering in his ear,

"Brahms cum in me, cum in me, make me yours." He grips squeeze around his cock, imaging it's her pussy clenching around him, "I love you, Brahms."

He hisses as his body shakes, muscles flexing, toes curling as he snarls out his release. The image of her accepting his seed sends heat washing over him. His cock pulses in his grip, his cum spraying over her nightgown, the remaining spilling down his fingers and cock.

His temples pulse, his ears ringing. His toes unfurling as his legs ceased in their shakes. He squeezes his cock a few more times, hearing her breathlessly thanking him, "It's so warm in me. Thank you, Brahms." He swears he can feel her nuzzling into his chest as if she was there.

Brahms coughs as he sits up, shaking his head as he gingerly throws his legs over the side, placing his feet on the door. The nightgown falls over his cock. He snorts, using it to clean himself. He stands up, placing the nightgown where he had found it. A wicked and mischievous grin spreads over his face at the thought of her wearing his spent at night.

He grunts as he retrieves his trousers, pulling them up in haste, tucking his chub back in. A content sigh as he eyes the bed and nightgown. She wouldn't be sleeping alone for much longer.

Brahms snaps his attention to the trill of his front doorbell. He clicks his tongue as he makes haste to the door. He debates on if he has time to properly clean his hand, decides to just wear a fancy white-glove he leaves, conveniently, near the front door instead.

"Coming! My Maid is out currently," He sucks in a breath as he pulls a glove over his right hand, he cocks his head quickly before opening the door. "Sorry, it'd have been answered sooner...who are you?"

Brahms stared down at the short man before him. His brown hair combed expertly to the side, his brows immaculate under his thick glasses. He wore a glowering expression, his lips in a tight line.

The man clears his throat, "Herbert, Herbert West." Brahms makes note of his American accent, "I believe this paper is for the lady of this residence." Herbert whips the paper in front of him, his expression changing to say "Well, hurry and take it!"

"Mr. West."

"Herbert."

"Herbert, If by Lady you mean, Gerti? She passed awa-"

"I don't mean your dead wife."

Brahms's eyes narrow at Herbert. He opens his mouth the speak.

"I mean, Y/n. She is the only lady living here. So Dan tells me."

Brahms's jaw slackens, "Dan." He says more to himself.

"Yes, it's an invitation to a formal at the university. He already invited her. Just wanted to make sure she got all the details, it's all there on the paper." Herbert whips it again in front of Brahms.

Brahms yanks the paper from Herbert, eyes scanning it wildly.

University of London

Residents of Handel Mansions we formally invite you to bring along the most beautiful dame for the start of our fall formal.

September 28th, 1900

Entrance fee 1 pound, with a beautiful dame on your arm the fee is waved.

Brahms stares back at Herbert who pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Well," Herbert begins, "I figured be best to drop it off for Dan. He's been awfully busy." He flashes a smile to Brahms as he turns, "Dan also says to let Y/n know he wishes her luck at her new job on Robitaille's farm." He turns back around to Brahms, "Oh, it was nice meeting you, Mr.?"

Brahms pauses, clearing his throat, "Brahms Heelshire."

Herbert clicks his tongue, "I knew that." He walks down the stairs, a pep in his step, "Was nice meeting you Mr. Heelshire."

Brahms stares at the short man walking away, nodding to a man walking past. He turns back around, slamming the door behind in, the frame shook.

He stares down at the paper, eyes reading it over and over again. "A formal." He starts, "That Dan..." His breath catches in his chest, "A job?" he questions aloud.

He collapses against his door, slumping over as he crunches the paper in his hands. His thoughts raced to her, cursing himself for not intervening that day she ran into Dan. Wishing he just took the reprimand from his employer and raced in to shove Dan away from you. Creating some fantastical lie as to why he was suddenly there.

Brahms's thoughts slip to his son. Lawrence, his green eyes shine whenever he and Y/n play. He hugs her like he did his mother. How y/n always promises to play with him, tuck him at night. How were you going to tuck him in if you were to be away? How were you going to be there to kiss his little cheek as he falls asleep?

"How are you going to be there for me?"

#brahms heelshire #Brahms x reader #Brahms x you #Brahms imagine #Brahms heelshire x reader #Brahms heelshire x you #Female reader #Slasher x reader #Slasher x you #Slasher imagine #Herbert West #Dan Cain #Smut #Lemon #Victorian AU #Victorian era #late victorian era #edwardian era

[ghostxraven]

hi pi! i hope you are well :) if you'd like to, could you share more abt poison and ghoul as parents? i love them so much <3

hi eden! i’m well ty!! and i would LOVE to

uhhh so they’ve raised a kid before, obviously, but when the girl was a baby all of them were teens (ghoul & poison specifically were about 16 when she came home for the first time) so the ‘parenting’ style with her was different than it was with charlie. mostly because it was their first time trying to take care of a child and so when charlie came home they were a bit more confident but ALSO definitely because they mellowed out a bit (poison mostly) when they got older. with the girl it was a more complicated situation — the fab four were somewhere between parental figures and older siblings to her, she was able to get away with a lot more stuff but also saw a lot more claps because they didn’t have any way to keep her from that. with charlie they were able to keep a bit more from her — the girl could watch her, when claps happened, and by the time charlie was born they’d stopped looking for violence/picking fights with dracs, crows, etc. too, which helped.

i think when they were talking about having a baby, one thing that was really important to them was being a Team. so they do their best to talk to each other about everything. and especially when charlie is very little, she always wants to be held, so they take turns passing her back and forth. if poison’s got her, ghoul will make her formula and bring it out for her, with a kiss for both of them and a can of power pup for poison. if ghoul’s got her, it’s poison who’ll get the clothes/bottle/diapers/etc. teamwork!

ghoul has a tendency to talk to babies like small adults. serious faces, serious questions, “uh huh, mm hm, tell me more” with babytalk. i think he kinda talks like this with charlie (and the girl. but this clip specifically makes me think about charlie). he’s very gentle, very good with kids, diagnosed with older sibling syndrome. the problem with that is that he can be a little fussy and overbearing when charlie gets older (he tries not to be. but sometimes he can’t help it 😔) um i think he’s particularly good at doing charlie’s & the girl’s hair. at the same time that he’s good with kids he also has a tendency to take the girl and later, charlie, to dubiously safe situations (ie bomb deals/trades with sort-of dangerous rough-and-tumble crews in like. a jerryrigged baby bjorn/sling with a bag of teddy grahams and a sippy cup in a diaper bag. it does occasionally help deescalate situations if the other crew is jumpy.) also i think ghoul will sing her little songs to help her go to sleep and keeps her with him if he’s working in the shed/diner and she’ll be in either her highchair or on a blanket with her toys where he can keep an eye on her.

poison loves kids and is an older sibling but is also very nervous about turning out like what he vaguely remembers his parents being. also between starting the crow program and leaving the city with kobra he wasn’t....the BEST older sibling (he was actually kind of a dick, and really regretted it later). and they really don’t want to project any of that (any issues whatsoever, really) onto a child, so they’re really careful with kids. they kind of treat the girl and charlie like they’re breakable, especially when they’re very small babies. almost....touch-shy? like especially as a teen he would smile at kids and play with the sandpups at gravel gertie’s when the four volunteered, but he wouldn’t want to hold them, wouldnt want to touch them too much, and that carried over a bit with the girl and even when they had charlie. they got better about that, though they still have a tendency to overthink the way he interacts with kids and talks to them. the upside is that he’s very soft with the girl & charlie, and once he got more used to it, he wanted to make sure they weren’t touch-starved and started being a lot more touchy-feely. it’s like all their sharp edges that outside crews see (and even some that friends/members of their crew see) get smoothed over with their kids. poison’s a bit of a pushover for the girl & charlie so they’ll come home from the market with a new pack of crayons and a little pouch of candy just because charlie pointed at them and made big puppy eyes. ghoul’s more willing to tell her no, so they DO balance each other out. on the other hand if poison is on a run alone with charlie there’s no one to stop them from buying her a new toy or stopping on the way to let her play at gertie’s even if there’s a time crunch <3 (and they will). poison will also take her out on drives if she’s fussy during the night, and he’s a night owl so he’s pretty willing to sit up late with her when she’s an infant and needing to eat formula or be held at like 3 or 4 am.

they keep her crib in their room until she’s old enough to have her own; ghoul made her a mobile out of meticulously cleaned and sanded down spare parts from discarded projects and poison painted the wall behind it. i don’t wanna call them crafty because that makes them sound like a diy pinterest couple (tho. modern au that’s honestly what they are) but they do make a lot of stuff for the girl/charlie (and even later jet’s little cousin) including but not limited to: a new highchair (the girl’s was a lil old by then and also uh. made of a crate and some wood planks), a set of blocks with her name on it, a drac-in-the-box, a monkey halloween costume based off a picture in one of cherri’s many books, and a plush animal (rabbit? giraffe? horse? yes) only a little more finessed than the one ghoul made for the girl when they first adopted her.

other assorted thoughts: they do the little swinging thing between them when they’re standing on either side holding her hands.

poison draws pictures with both the girl and charlie.

charlie will help ghoul make food in the kitchen and steal little bits of batter while ghoul pretends not to notice.

charlie loves being in on a secret so she gets to help plan birthday “surprises” for both her parents & uncle kobra and jet. sometimes it’s not so secret but she gets so excited about it that obviously no one’s going to point it out to her.

when she’s about four charlie finds a hurt baby bird out on the carpark in front of the diner and through the combination of her & the girl making a “presentation” on all the reasons they should be allowed to keep it and ghoul making soft sad eyes at the baby bird in the shoebox poison reluctantly says she can take care of it until it’s better. by the end of the chick’s stay with them poison cries when they have to let it go, so.

this isn’t necessarily a poison/ghoul parenting thought but it is charlie-related um i think the girl was super excited to be an older sister and even though they have a ~14 year age gap between them the girl and charlie are very close. charlie thinks the girl is the PEAK of cool and if they aren’t going to be doing something overly teenage and stupid the girl will let charlie tag along with her and her friends sometimes. she’s also very patient in playing games with her and charlie’s most vocal advocate when it comes to doing stuff she wants (charlie wants to go to see doc. charlie wants a popsicle. charlie wants to play at the playset in zone 3. charlie wants to borrow a movie from uncle cherri) and can understand her when she’s first learning to talk even better than poison or ghoul especially really early on. she’s the diner’s best CJ translator (also i think charlie has a bit of a speech impediment & is hard of hearing so for people outside of the fab four & their circle of friends it can be hard to necessarily understand everything she’s saying; the girl really helps with this and they practice sign language together with ghoul since he’s the best at ZSL in the crew. also she’s autistic just like poison)

anyways wah i talked a lot sorry but i hope this is what you were looking for! (i always love talking about my canon tysm for giving me the opportunity 🥺❤️)

#ttlotfk #killjoys california #danger days #headcanons #funpoison #pi's personal #query on top #treasured mutuals #january tag ❄️ #hcs #charlieeeeee :} & the girl!! #i love the girl......i love the idea of her being the Super Cool older sister who takes her tiny baby sister everywhere <3 #bitches really do be like 🤲 *projects childhood and personal experiences/siblings’ life experiences onto fictional characters* #ty eden!!! #long post

[inky-duchess]

one of my grandmothers is named gertrude! better just known as gertie. and my grandfather was named richard. and his nickname? hm. well...

Gertie is my Nana too 💜😍

#ask answered #Nonny

[adamsvanrhijn]

Do you think Thomas ever read Les Mis and of so what were his thoughts?

i think thomas is prejudiced against french people because he’s english 

but really... hm.......................... what a question for me to receive. i think perhaps not. there’s undoubtedly an entire five volume wraxall in the crawley library somewhere. (not to mention a french edition.) (plausible they’d only have a french edition, actually, because they all read french, in which case thomas would.... not be able to read it....)

if he did though, what his thoughts would be depend on when in his life he reads it.... s1/pre s1 thomas would take to very different parts than 1926 thomas. i can see him being intensely affected by valjean + just absolutely hating marius with vitriol for a wide variety of reasons, all of which are to do with deep seated personal issues

waterloo probably hits different after the war

concept: 1926 new butler downton abbey downstairs book club, everybody reads les misérables, they don’t even make it through volume i because daisy gets so zealous about fantine it ruins it for everybody else and they all decide they do not want to deal with 5 volumes worth of this (and also because andy was struggling)

this begins the great daisy and isobel alliance of 1926 - forever

gertie the kitchen maid, who i am imagining is like if ivy had an extremely awkward younger sister:  But wouldn’t it be so nice to have nothing you’ve got to do but stroll round Paris eating apple tarts everywhere?

mrs patmore: Ah, yes, I imagine it would be, but I don’t suppose you’ll ever know, will you, so put that on the stove before 

daisy, waving around a whisk: BUT D’YOU REALLY THINK IT WAS SO NICE AS ALL THAT WHEN BY THE END OF IT

mrs hughes, poking her head into the kitchen: Mrs Patmore! you’ll be pleased to know I’ve spoken with Mr Barrow and he agreed with me that we’d all best put down the Hugo and get a start on the Waverley novels 

this is absolutely not the post you asked for, sorry

[patricianandclerk]

If you still have asks open, I would love to see some TMA where some *other* Power's ritual succeeds, and Peter and Elias (and everyone else, if there is space) are forced to navigate *that* world.

Also I’m like obviously a massive Elias/Peter fan, so if you can work that in that would be great but obviously isn’t required.

My Ask | My Ko-Fi | My Ao3 | Requests always welcome!

Pretty canon-typical body horror, gore, and suicide talk.

The Tundraran aground on the yellow beach outside Shoeburyness, and she keeled hard toone side with a judder that hit from the base of Peter’s spine all the way upto the back of his teeth. He heard the rusted creak of a few of the shippingcontainers above breaking free of their moorings with the force of the slam,crunching against one another, and he managed to save himself from hitting hardagainst the metal wall.

He heard afew cries and moans of pain, shouts for help up and down some of the decks, butnone of them sounded incredibly urgent – injured limbs, perhaps, but none arethe wheezing shouts of anyone crushed beneath machinery. In any case, thecensus of those still alive was Tadeus’ responsibility – Peter had moreinteresting things to do.

He couldfeel the change in the world as he came onto the strangely balmy air of thedeck, and he was forced to move slowly and ungracefully to the edge of it, theship at a forty-five degree angle… The air itself was thick as molasses,slightly sweet on the tongue, and he softly sighed.

Staring outover the dunes that make up the Shoeburyness beach, spanning out into the far,far distance, he saw strange, spiralling shapes that made his eyes water. Evenbefore his eyes, the heavy dunes moved and shifted toward and away from thehorizon, the fat chunks of grass hopping from one dune to the next, scurryingthrough fractal patterns as though they were dancing steps, this time eight beats,this time three, then six, then three, then four—

“Tadeus!”Peter called out, turning back, and Tadeus took a few moments before he raisedhis head from the hatch, meeting Peter’s gaze where he came to crouch over it.

“Only halfa dozen injured, Captain, and no dead,” Tadeus said lowly.

“It doesn’tmatter, lad,” Peter replied, giving a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s the end of theline.” Peter put out his hand, expectant, and Tadeus stared at Peter’s palm, atthe rough-hewn surface of his skin, and when he lookeed up to Peter’s eyes, Petersaw the lovely, lovely fear there.

Such ashame it wasn’t the time to enjoy it.

Tadeus,hands shaking just slightly, bowed his head and drew the whistle on its chainfrom about it, setting it into Peter’s palm.

“You canrun, if you like,” Peter said mildly. “I won’t mind.”

“Is— Is itbetter to be Forsaken, than whatever that is?” Tadeus asked, and his gaze flittedfrom Peter’s face to the shifting, spiralling dunes. His lips were parted, andhe looked not terrified, nor desperate, nor even angry, but resigned. He knewthis would com, one day, Peter supposed. This, or something like it.

“I thinkso,” Peter said. “But I could kill you, if you’d rather. I think you’d preferthat, Tadeus.”

“You wouldn’trather condemn me with the rest?”

“I would,”Peter allowed, shrugging two great shoulders, and he smiled, very kindly, verywarmly. Tadeus shivered. “But we’re friends, you and I. I’m willing to make asacrifice for you before I attend to my… Ha. My other responsibilities.”

For a moment,Tadeus was quiet and taciturn, and then he reached out, his hand touching Peter’schest underneath the thick fabric of his woollen coat, touching only more cordedwool, but he relaxed as though he found a heartbeat there, his eyes closingshut. He nodded his head, slowly, and Peter smiled, reaching out to cup hischeeks.

He wasmerciful twice over – a quick snap, and that was all, Tadeus falling forwardand into his arms.

Peter slungthe body over his shoulder, clambering down one of the ladders to the shifting sands,and he walked with Tadeus going slowly cool against his chest. It would figure,he supposed, that the Distortion would complete their ritual, and rain theirstrange terror down on the world… And what terror it was.

It would bedifficult to say how far he walked from the Tundra, but he kept the oldboat in sight, and when he blew on the whistle, the fog rolled in thick and heavyfrom the sea, coiling about the ship in fat, heavy twists that were still toothick and too normal to be of the Spiral. They shared… It could hardlybe called an alliance.

It issimply that they were too similar to easily destroy one another, case in point –Peter walked, never lost, over the beach, looking out over the plains that nowmade up Essex. It would be a long, long walk, were it not for the souls in theLonely to nourish him, as he made his way west.

He couldfollow the Thames.

Evenspiralling, twisting, he knew her well enough to follow her home.

–

He laid Tadeusdown outside London. He didn’t even need to bury him: the brick of the cobblesshifted and twisted about his body until it was swallowed down beneath thebrick and brick and earth and earth, and Peter walked on, into the city. Thecorridors made by too-tall buildings twisted unnaturally, but Peter kept on astraight path, forcing them to spiral around him.

He heardthe screams, of course.

They weredistant, tangled up amidst their own insanities, so caught up as to forget to evenbe lonely. It was tragic, in a way.

So close tothat beautiful perfection, and yet so, so far away—

The MagnusInstitute was dark, but Peter didn’t need much light to traverse the strange,unnatural corridors. The scant oil light allowed him enough to see his way, andhe moved down the corridors in search of Jonah’s— of James’—

—of Elias’office.

The door creakedloudly when Peter pushed it open, although he knew that Elias was near obsessiveabout keeping the hinges oiled, to avoid such pedestrian displays oftheatricality. In the dark, he saw the still new, still not-quite-familiar shapeof Elias’ body on the floor, and he actually felt a twinge of panic before heconfirmed that Elias was sitting up and supporting his own weight, even thoughhe was on the ground.

He wasleaned forward, his knees drawn halfway up toward his chest, his arms looselywrapped around his knees, his hand curled into his usually perfectly-coiffed hair.Peter stared down at him, scarcely silhouetted by the oil light from the corridor.

“Sulking,are you?” Peter asked, and in the half-light he saw Elias’ mouth fall open, sawhis head rise. So much emotion could be gleaned from that slackening jaw, thatgasp of eager relief.

“Peter?”Elias asked, and Peter chuckled lowly, taking a slow step forward in the dark,his hands sliding into his coat pockets. Elias was facing away from him, halfof his face still in shadow, and Peter reached out, sliding his hand into Elias’hair. Elias did not go so far as to sigh, but he did lean his head minutely backinto Peter’s hand, which was the biggest sign of distress Peter could hope for.

“Hi, honey,”he purred. “I’m home. Guess Gertie took her attention off the pot, hm?”

“She madeto intervene,” Elias said lowly. “Evidently, the intervention in question wasinsufficient. Welcome unto the Great Twisting, Peter. Do enjoy your stay.”

“You and Iare better suited than most,” Peter said mildly. “Better the Spiral than theDesolation – or, God forbid, Hunt. I hate running. It’s undignified.”

Elias’ headturned slightly wrong toward him. He did not turn to face Peter, but turned hisear to listen to him, and yet the angle at which he listened was… Hm.Peter gently scratched over Elias’ scalp, and then stepped around Elias to lookat his face.

The gapingsockets that were once his eyes were scraped clean, blood stained rusty-red onhis cheeks and his forehead. Peter suppressed the twin urges to gasp and toclutch Elias close to him; equally, he felt a surge of distant triumph.

“Oh, Elias,”Peter murmured, feeling the grin come to his mouth and hoping that Elias wouldbe able to hear it in his voice. “I see. Obviously, you aren’t using youreyes sufficiently, so why should you get to keep them?”

“You assumeit was my patron that took my eyes?” Elias asked, but his lips quivered. Helooked deliciously pale, and his skin was chalky – the terror rolled off of himin waves, the fear of blindness, of not knowing, and of course, of course, of beingalone. It was such a lovely thing, to see Elias vulnerable, withoutthe Eye to protect him. “I might have removed them myself.”

“No,” Petersaid.

“… No,”Elias agreed, and Peter’s hand cupped Elias’ cheek.

“I alwaystold you, darling, that my work came with more benefits than yours.”

“Because youlooked only for the benefits,” Elias said, disapproval dripping from his voice,and Peter tipped his chin up to look better at the bloody, empty sockets, toadmire the smoothness Elias’ patron had punished him with. “Your worship wasnever selfless.”

“And yethere I am, rewarded,” Peter purred, “whilst you are shivering in your sanctum,blinded, and afraid.”

Elias shuddered,and Peter cupped his cheeks, sliding his thumbs over the stubble on Elias’cheeks – he couldn’t shave, of course, without a razor, and he had no doubtbeen alone in the spiral for days on end. He leaned in, closer, brushed hislips against Elias’, felt how cool they were, felt how he shivered, and thensurged in for more, wanting for the heat of Peter’s tongue and his mouth, theassurance that Peter was here, and real.

It was forthat reason that Peter broke them apart, and the broken noise Elias releasedfrom the very back of his throat was an ecstasy of sublime proportions, adelicious morsel that settled on Peter’s tongue, and he savoured it. Theworld had gone mad, gone mad and abandoned the monster that was Elias Bouchard,and now he was there for the taking.

“I can killyou, if you like,” Peter said softly.

“Just soyou can be alone?” Elias asked, raising his head just slightly. “Is that whatyou offered Tadeus?”

“You knowme so well,” Peter murmured. “I’d offer to keep you safe, sweetheart, butblind, powerless? You’d be such a liability.”

“Very well,”Elias said, smooth as butter. “Leave me, then.”

He alwaysdid have an infuriating habit of calling Peter’s bluffs.

“You’re noteven going to tell me, with the world ended and everyone going mad, that you’reglad to see me alive?”

“I’m afraidI don’t see you alive, Peter,” Elias murmured, and Peter laughed,shoving Elias in the centre of the chest. Elias went down hard and fast – hemust have been, Peter mused, starving. He couldn’t take in his usual sustenance,watching all that went on, and food in a world like this, real food, realnourishment, was near impossible to trust. Peter hadn’t looked yet, of course,but he knew it – you’d think it was food until you touched it, tastedit, swallowed it, and then you’d find it was razorblades, or worms, or—

It was a lotof effort, keeping a pet like Elias.

Uppity, andirritable, and powerless in the way a human never could be – blindness wasn’tjust a loss of sight for him, but a loss of centre, of knowledge, ofunderstanding, of all he was. All he was now, all he was left over,was Peter’s.

Elias’ headtouched against the carpet on the floor, and Peter loomed over him, his forearmsbraced either side of his head, and Peter could see Elias’ face, the solemnityin it, the quiet, distant pain. It had nothing to do with Peter, nor with beinglonely. Peter supposed it must be dreadfully hard going, to give up as much asElias had to one’s god, and be rejected for it.

What theBeholding didn’t want, Peter was glad to take up instead.

“You werewaiting in the dark,” Peter said, “to die.”

“I thoughtyou were already dead,” Elias said softly. His eyes used to be so beautifullycold: Peter used to fantasize about drowning in them.

“You know,”Peter murmured, “if we put the world back together, your dear patron might giveyou your eyes back.”

“Hope?”Elias asked, and then laughed, low and dark and hoarse. “I changed my mind,Peter. Kill me.”

Peterkissed him instead, as the floor beneath them twisted into fractal afterfractal, shattering into infinity like mad, mad glass.

#peter lukas #elias bouchard #lonelyeyes #leftofrevolution #as defined by dictionary #answered

[lordofrunes]

@mellowmelancholia replied to your post “Oh okay.”

hm?

Don’t worry about it. Gerty just got to you before I could.

#mellowmelancholia

[theclaravoyant]

for the ship ask: Holt x Kevin?

who hogs the duvet

Neither of them. They both sleep very neatly with the duvet evenly shared.

who texts/rings to check how their day is going

Kevin calls Holt every day at lunch

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts

They don’t tend to go with “creative” gifts, they tend to prefer more practical ones... then again I do have that hc that Holt took Kevin to get Cheddar so...

who gets up first in the morning

Hmm... You know what I’m not sure. I’m leaning toward Kevin, because he seems to have the bulk of the dog walking responsibilities, but I also like the idea of their morning being a finely oiled teamwork machine

who suggests new things in bed

Why would you need new things? The old things are fine.

(and I quote: “As always, I’ll be using the main hole, or no hole.” - Captain Raymond Holt, 5x11)

who cries at movies

THE STATISTICAL ANALYSIS. IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL.

who gives unprompted massages

Neither of them, they’re not very into touching.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick

Holt. He can be SO dramatic. Speaking of which I’m about to finish a fic on this subject I’ll hopefully be publishing it tonight

who gets jealous easiest

Hm probably Holt

who has the most embarrassing taste in music

Kevin fessed up to liking that cheesy 80s song in that fic that time so I have to throw him under this bus

who collects something unusual

antique... globes...

who takes the longest to get ready

Holt because he insists on wearing his blues to work every day and those things have to be ironed to all hell

who is the most tidy and organised

Hmm... Holt. They’re both quite good at it but I feel like Holt is more attached to his specific rituals and routines.

who gets most excited about the holidays

Holt snuck out of bed in the middle of the night to hide in Jake’s room to eat his eggs and taunt him about Halloween while Kevin was peacefully sleeping and/or rolling his eyes in the distance so you tell me

who is the big spoon/little spoon

Nobody, because they don’t spoon... except when they do and I wrote post about it here because I CAN’T DECIDE

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports

HOLT

who starts the most arguments

Probably also Holt, though it depends what you count as an argument and what you count as starting one

who suggests that they buy a pet

Kevin has always been more the pet person, but it was Holt who suggested getting Cheddar

what couple traditions they have

They eat breakfast together.Whenever Kevin can, he likes to press Holt’s uniform for him.They try to talk on the phone every day at lunch

what tv shows they watch together

HOW IT’S MADE those cuties

what other couple they hang out with

Hmm, that’s tough. There are probably some couples amongst Kevin’s friends? Peraltiago comes to mind lol they need to get some new couple friends

how they spend time together as a couple

They do quite a wide range of activities including travel, they do a lot of museum things and seminars/workshops with top artisans and things in their fields, even reading or working in silence they quite like to do together.

who made the first move

Kevin. He bought Gertie and that is a first move story you do not mess with

who brings flowers home

They bring each other flowers for major achievements, but I feel like most of the time they’d rather have living ones in the garden.

who is the best cook

Holt, apparently XD

#holt x kevin #raymond holt x kevin cozner #brooklyn 99 #b99 headcanons #ask me stuff #prompt me stuff #Anonymous

[garden-ghoul]

Gerry and Gerty’s funeral home caper lmao

There is something perilously easy about Gertrude’s professional usage of her tools, Gerard included. Let him just say that it’s lucky he never got into the habit of calling Mary ‘Mum,’ or he would have accidentally done the same to Gertrude. As much as he likes Gertrude he is aware of how dangerous it would be to let her know how he feels about her—that he feels, even. Every other person she has ever worked with has been disposable, and Gerard isn’t about to add himself to that list for the crime of being inconveniently emotional.

They’re in Los Angeles at the moment, for once relaxing while they wait for one of their Hunters to break cover. Gerard is generally wary of any place with too many approaches, but it’s pretty funny to see Gertrude trying to blend in with normal people out for a holiday. She’s sitting on a beach towel with her sleeves rolled up as a small concession to the heat. Reading, of course, a war history with the battlers’ miniscule eyes carefully excised from the cover; she rolls a scalpel absently between her fingers, ready for the moment when she turns the page to find another illustration. The towel, pink and orange and bought by Gerard expressly to look ridiculous, is already littered with tiny diamonds of paper. All carefully turned blank-side-up.

For his part Gerard is taking the opportunity to meet the ocean. Just at its edge it holds little of the Vast about it, so he stands watching little waves wash over the eyes that watch over his ankles, slightly hypnotized. It’s a bit kiddish of him, but he has no interest in staying inside Gertrude’s personal space bubble, which today is roughly two meters in diameter. He could be looking for shells, but he wants to not be looking for anything for a little while.

Still, every so often (carefully timed to minimize strain) he looks through the lens of himself at the taquería where their Hunter is lingering over lunch. This is his part, as Gertrude actively avoids using or even receiving gifts from the Eye—Gerard has long learned that beggars can’t be choosers—but his gut burns with the desire to avoid disappointing her. Yes, even though he recognizes that he shouldn’t care, that it’s dangerous for him to care. He tells himself not to and then does anyway, damn her. Damn her for being just slightly more like a proper mother or even a proper friend. Actively cutting out his feelings like paper eyes is exhausting, but at least it’s a convenient reminder to distrust her.

Ah. There. He sloshes out of the shallows and back toward the towel, where he starts rubbing the sand off his feet so he can put his boots back on.

Gertrude looks up over the top of her book. “She’s moving, then?”

“Yeah. Looked like she was just heading up that big street there.”

Gertrude rises like a wading bird, brushing a few stray eyes off her blouse, and snaps her book shut. Gerard hastily does up the laces on his boot and follows. “Leave the towel,” she says as if she knows he was about to pick it up and start folding it. “Heaven knows we have no use for it.”

“That was ten dollars,” he says mildly. Mostly he’s just peeved he won’t get to see her sitting on it again.

“Time is worth far more than money,” she says. Right, he thinks as she starts toward the road with strides as long as her short legs can manage. That’s why we’ve been hanging out at the seaside for two hours. Gertrude is probably never going to admit that she very occasionally enjoys ‘relaxing.’

He catches up to her in a few steps. “Does that mean you’ll pay me back for the towel, then?”

“I paid for your tickets to this country.”

“Fair enough. Oh, hang on, she’s turned. This way.”

They follow the Hunter a little over a mile, by which time both of them are sweating through their shirts. Gerard may slightly regret his pride in refusing to wear anything but black jeans, but he’d no more admit it than Gertrude would admit she regrets wearing long sleeves. There’s something unfortunately kind of charming in the fact that she won’t stop dressing like an Archivist even while on the hunt. It’s integrated into her personality—oh, hang on, that’s not charming, that’s worrying.

Gerard does not like the Archivist anywhere near as much as he likes Gertrude Robinson.

“She’s gone into… a funeral home. Bit odd for a Hunter. But I know what I Saw,” he assures Gertrude.

“Hm,” she says. “We’re going to wash our faces and have some lunch.”

Gerard doesn’t ask any questions. He’ll understand why in a bit, and he is very hungry. They stop in at some kind of health food place a couple buildings down. Gertrude has an unfortunate liking for salads—at least, unfortunate for Gerard, who never quite made it to whatever social class you’ve got to be to actually enjoy eating quinoa. He gets a salad with both chicken and bacon, which is the best he can do, and slowly freezes in the air conditioning in his damp clothing.

“I’m sure you can guess the plan, as this isn’t the first funeral home we’ve infiltrated,” Gertrude tells him. He nods. “Is the Hunter still inside?”

He pauses his chewing and focuses inward. “Difficult to tell. She’s inside a building, at least. In what looks like an office, talking to a man in business formal. He’s not afraid of her.” He hisses through his teeth and lets it go. “That’s it. My head is done with Seeing for today. Would it kill you to learn this too?”

“Possibly,” she says coldly. They don’t speak for the rest of lunch, leaving Gerard to wonder whether she expects it to kill him, or worse. Still disposable, but sturdy at least, he thinks sourly. Gertrude doesn’t speak, in fact, until they enter the funeral home and the director or secretary or something comes and greets them. Then she says, with just enough of an edge of bitter tiredness,

“Comparison shopping. I’m sure you of all people know a funeral has to be perfect.”

The woman’s eyes flick from Gertrude to Gerard. “Your husband?”

“Yes. Heart attack.”

She smiles sympathetically at both of them but especially at Gerard, who’s hanging back looking uncomfortable and glancing around at everything. A pity his head is splitting open, or he’d be able to tell from this distance exactly where the Hunter is. Gertrude asks for a tour so she can wave him around like a lint roller picking up signs of the Hunter’s passing through. And the Hunter has been here, recently. Gerard leans against the walls in a corner between two tall potted plants while Gertrude spins some bullshit about immigrating for a professorship at UCLA. He lets his eyes close and leans his head back tiredly, trying to feel through the walls and through his headache. The Hunter is almost certainly still here.

“Thomas,” snaps Gertrude, and he jolts back to attention. “Don’t lurk in corners.”

He pushes off and slouches toward her. “Would you relax, Mum? He’s not gonna get any deader from me not paying attention. It’s peaceful here. I think he’d like it.” She shoots him a tired, irritated look, and he shoves his hands back in his pockets. “I can just see him being here, is all.” Her eyebrows do the little message-received twitch, and she turns back to the director to start making arrangements. She’ll stall as long as she can; he wanders off to inspect a couple of promising doors.

This turns out to be a mistake, though he doesn’t realize it until halfway through picking a lock he hears a thump in the front room. He pauses just long enough to hear another one before he sprints back out to find Gertrude losing a wrestling match over a baseball bat with the funeral director.

“Hey! What are you doing!” he yells. The director kicks Gertrude in the chest, sending her flying into the wall, and turns toward him. “She’s frail, Mum is!” The director is just confused enough (and small enough) that he can bowl her over and take the bat. He goes for a blow on the back of the neck, harder to misjudge than the temple, and she slumps to the floor.

He pauses a moment, breathing hard before he drags her into the office by the front desk. Then he comes out and crouches by Gertrude, balancing himself with the bat. “You alive?”

Gertrude groans in response and tries to sit up. “I may have a concussion.”

“Anything else?” She shakes her head carefully and accepts his hand up. “But you’re still in no condition to be hunting Hunters, and I’d rather not either. I’m not exactly a martial arts specialist. Or a baseball player.”

“Hmh,” says Gertrude. “This may be our only opportunity.”

“You make opportunities, Gertrude. That’s precisely what you do. So don’t give me that bullshit.”

“We are running out of time. Let me tell you something, Gerard. The way I create opportunities is by not ignoring them when they are dropped in front of me on a silver platter. This is such an opportunity. And with some ingenuity none of this will prevent us from seizing it. We simply need to disguise our presence.”

He lets her boss him into camouflage while she goes to the nearest convenience store for ice. And then he spends the next five hours tailing the Hunter all over the city, gritting his teeth through his steadily worsening headache every time he loses her. He can’t even be that angry at Gertrude, because she’s right: this is invaluable information they couldn’t have gotten at any other time. They have a comprehensive list of allies, and they’ve confirmed that three powers are allied for this ritual.

No, screw that, he can be mad at her when he stumbles into the motel room two hours past dark and she’s freshly showered and reading her history book. “Tell me what you found,” she says.

He kicks off his boots with so little coordination that he falls onto the bed and just lies there.

“Gerard.”

“Yeah, hi,” he says into the bedspread. “I feel like I got repeatedly hit by a truck. You’re very welcome for doing one hundred per cent of the work.” She waits in frosty, expectant silence until he digs his phone out of his pocket and chucks it at her. “It’s all in my notes. I’ll talk t’you about it in the morning, if I’m alive then.”

Despite how much his head hurts he starts to fall asleep almost instantly. So he’s never quite sure whether he dreams her very quiet “Thank you, Gerard.”

NOTES: You know, I thought for a long time that Gerry didn’t actually have any powers from Beholding, until yesterday when I listened to First Aid again and realized he was somehow using the same knowledge-seeking power Elias has to find out passcodes. I just assume he’s not as good at it. And we do know Gertrude never even learned any other languages… unless of course she was just pretending to keep Michael out of her hair. The point is Gertrude has never demonstrated any Archivist powers so I assume she found it distasteful.

#refuse to start a magnus archives tag #fiction #sans editing once again!

[smile-files]

a quick little hello mello comic based on some existential clover thoughts i’ve been having <3

turned out pretty radical in my opinion. i hope you like it too! :)

#hello mello #hm #hm gertie #hm matthew #comic #tw bright colors #bright colors tw #dandy's doodles #should i make a hello mello sideblog for the comics and junk? #i would but at the same time i wouldn't know how to manage it lol #i dunno man