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jasmines-library · 6 months

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Oh, Baby.

WHUMPTOBER DAY 21. Prompt: Vehicular accident.

Fandom: supernatural.

Summary: on the way back from a hunt, an out of control car veers into yours sending it hurtling off of the path and into a tree, leaving you trapped. Too far from the hospital, the Winchesters are left with the task of getting your body from the car as they wait for Cas to arrive.

Warnings: car crash, dislocated shoulder, broken bones/ribs, blood.

Word count: 1.4K

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

Dean was driving too fast. His foot was pressed all the way down on the pedal as he let the impala fly down the road. He was drumming along to the rhythm of the music as you and Sam sang. The hunt had been successful and spirits were high. The three of you were looking forward to a hot shower and a warm bed, because the night was cold and an eerie chill hung in the air.

The October chill had cast a fog over the road, which obscured everything further than a few metres ahead, but Baby was nearing Kansas and Dean knew the roads well, so he wasn’t too fussed by the narrow roads.

But what happened next came out of nowhere. Another passing car had skidded off of the road and veered into your lane. It smashed into the left passenger side of Baby, sending her sliding off the path. Your side of the car took the brunt of the impact as it collided with a tree. The motion sent your body sliding roughly into the door with a force that was sure to leave bruises. The glass spiderwebbed and then shattered, raining down hundreds and thousands of tiny glass flakes over your head.

Dean groaned when the car stilled, sitting up abruptly. His chest felt tight where the seat belt had flattened against his ribs, so he fumbled to unclip his seatbelt. As he twisted he caught sight of his brother whose head hung low against his chest. There was glass in his hair and a small cut on his temple.

“Sam.” Dean reached over to shake his brother. “Sammy.”

Sam sat up abruptly but immediately regretted the pull in his side. “What..?”

“Are you ok?” Dean took in the caved in metal, pissed that he would have to rebuild it again.

“Fine.” Sam brushed the glass from his hair as he too surveyed the damage. But his eyes widened and he gripped his brother's arm when he suddenly remembered you in the backseat. “Y/n.”

The two of them manoeuvred their bodies in the small space so that they could face you. Some of the roof had caved in, which made it hard to see, but they managed to make out your unconscious body in the darkness. It was crumpled against the doorframe. Your head rested on the window ledge, hair matted with blood from where it had collided with the frame and scraped against the shards of glass. Your arm hung at a concerning angle, and they were almost 100% sure your shoulder was dislocated, but they couldn’t tell from this angle.

Dean reached over the seat, straining his body but you were too far away for him to reach you, so he tried to call your name. You didn’t move.

Dean cursed and pushed hard on his doors to open it. “See if you can get her door open.”

Sam forced the door open and clambered out of the car as his brother made his way round the crushed bonnet. Half of your door was completely obscured by the tree that had made the car stop spiralling out of control, making it impossible to open the door.

Dean rammed his fist into the side of the car in a fit of rage.

“Fuck! Sam help me move the car.”

The Winchesters shuffled round to the back of the car and began to haul the car away from the tree. It took a great amount of effort and their boots leaving dents in the frosty ground of them to move the impala, but when it finally inched far enough away from the tree and your door was visible, they breathed a sigh of relief. But immediately took it back when they tugged in the misshaped handle and the door didn’t budge.

Then Dean tried to rouse you again, reaching through the window and rousing your body. You whined as all of the pain flooded in at once.

“Sweetheart?”

You twisted your head to glance up at him through droopy eyes. “Dean?”

“It’s us.”

You whimpered as you tried to shift, pinned down by your seatbelt. “Hurts.”

“We know sweetheart. We’re gonna get you out of there. Just hold on for us okay?”

You nodded, but made no noise.

Sam tried the handle again but it was stuck down firmly as if someone had welded the pieces together and then encased them in a layer of concrete just to make sure that they were secure.

He then considered the window. They could pull you out from it but that would run the risk of injuring you further, especially with the shards of glass jutting out from the bottom. It was far from Sam’s first choice, but at the moment it was looking like their only option.

“Give me your jacket.” He reached out a hand to his brother.

“What?” Without his jacket the cold air would bite at Dean’s skin. Sam knew this, but Dean’s jacket was thicker than his and would provide you more protection when they moved you.

“Just give it to me.”

Dean shrugged it off after pocketing his phone and placed it in his brother's hands who then laid it across the bottom of the window and leaned forwards to talk to you.

“Okay Kid I need you to unbuckle your seatbelt. Can you do that for me?”

You fumbled blindly for the buckle, wincing at the tug on your arm and ribs, both of which were already forming dark bruises and were more likely than not broken in some places. You relaxed as the pressure lessened, but without the fabric keeping you in place, your body slumped forwards.

Sam hooked his arm under your shoulders ready to guide you out of the window. “This is gonna hurt sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

When Sam tugged upwards you screamed. Every inch of your body burned as he slid you out of the window. The strain on your shoulder was immense, and the brothers were now certain that it was dislocated.

“Stop.” You begged. “Please.”

Sam’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry but I can’t.”

He pulled you out the last stretch of the window without adding too many cuts to your fragile body, only a few nicks here or there. Dean helped ease you down onto the ground.

“Cas is on his way.” He told his brother, who gave him a brief nod of acknowledgment because his full attention was on you. It was too far to get to the hospital in time.

“We have to pop it back in.” Dean told him, gesturing to your shoulder. “If we leave it like that it’s going to get worse.”

Sam bit his lip. “I know.”

“Please… it hurts” you whimpered. “No more. Please.”

“Just a little bit more and then it’ll stop. I promise.” Sam told you, bracing his hands on your shoulders as Dean leaned you against his chest. You cried into his chest, clinging onto his shirt to hide from the cold.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart.”

“On three.” Sam said. “One. Two-“

He rolled the joint, forcing it back into place before you had time to brace yourself. You cried out sharply, nursing your arm as tears flooded your cheeks.

Shakily he removed his hands.

“All done, y/n. All done.”

Dean rubbed your back gently and cast a worried gaze at his brother who towered above the two of you.

It was fateful waiting for the flutter of wings. Dean held you close to his chest as you shivered. Whether it was from the pain or the cold he didn’t know, but they had to keep forcing you awake when your eyes drifted shut. As Dean held you, Sam made work of trying to salvage anything from the car. He had found a blanket wedged in the backseat and draped it over your shoulders.

At last, Cas finally appeared.

“I am sorry.” He rattled out. “I came as soon as I could.”

“Can you help her?” Sam asked.

He reached out and placed a gentle hand on your forehead from where a blinding light was emitted and then a wave of calm washed over you, soothing all your aches and pains before you fell asleep against Dean’s chest.

“She should be fine now.” Cas instructed “she just needs to rest.”

“Thank you.” Dean pulled your sleeping form and smiled gently into your hair, glad to still have you by his side for a while longer.

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY 21 ⛤ DAY 23 ->

Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

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lemmetreatya · 1 year

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Southern Reiner not being used to the cold at all. Every time the temperature drops below 59, he stocks up on milk and bread and salts the driveway and you can't even step outside for a minute without him going "baby, where's your gloves? You're gonna freeze!"

FINALLY GETTING GRACED WITH A SOUTHERN REINER ANON DO YOU KNOW HOW MICH SCREAMING IM DOING RN?! TOP 3 FAVE CONCEPTS OF THIS MAN UFFUFUFF

Okay but big man would genuinely be so concerned for your health and well being due to colder seasons and itd be so amusing seeing him fuss around you (not like he dont do that anyways) but to suddenly see big burly reiner, who usually isn’t fretful of anything, suddenly worried and apprehensive just makes you swoooon with laughter!! 🤭🤭

Rubbing your eyes of sleep, you stand by the front door of your farmhouse to watch your husband frantically shovelling snow salt onto the drive way.

It was much earlier than he was supposed to rise today, considering it was your turn to give all the animals their feed, but he seemed to be up for a different agenda.

With your hands now on your hips, you squeeze your face at him.

“Reiner, what in the world’s you doing out here at fuck-o’clock in the morning?”

Suddenly hearing your voice, Reiner looks up in panic before dropping his shovel and extending his hand out towards you.

“Baby, no! Get back inside!”

“Why?!” You exclaim.

You stick your head out the door further to check your surroundings. If snow was going to fall, it would have done so in the night. However, all that was on the ground was a thin layer of frosty morning dew.

With a flail of his arms, Reiner continues to talk at you from the bottom of the drive way.

“I’m serious, get back in! It’s way too cold for yer to be out at this time, you’ll freeze!”

Deciding to play with him, you briefly close your eyes and take a deep breath of the outside air. The action only makes Reiner panic more.

Once you breathe out a whaft of warm air that creates a steam of white come out of your mouth, you shrug.

“Welp, it don’t feel too cold to me! My lungs are still warm.” You joke.

“Oi, stop that, you’ll catch a nasty bug!” Bundled in his wooly scarf, hat and gloves, Reiner makes a beeline towards you.

To play with him even more, you step outside the door and stand just on the welcome mat. Still in your sleepwear of silk gown, slippers and hair bonnet, you amusingly start to peel off the shoulders to your gown.

“But the weather feels fiiiiine to me!” You coo.

By this point, Reiner knows you were playing with him so when he reaches you, he has a half grumpy, half tired grin on his face.

“You play way too goddamn much.” He grumbles.

Seeing he wasn’t mad, you playfully turn around to shake your ass in his face, but he puts a stop to it by landing a large palmed slap-and-grab to the bouncy flesh.

Inside, now!” He muses.

#reiner headcanons #reiner braun #reiner aot #reiner x reader #reiner x black reader

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occultvettr · 8 months

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I sporeling-ified my sona (sporlings au by @sporelings-au )

Frosty bonnet. It can be difficult to spot that Occult is a sporling cause the fungi are tiny and them being mossy is way more noticeable.

Yknow those videos and photos of animals getting a hold of cameras. That’s Occult with HEP surveillance cameras.

#sporlings au #sporling oc #occultvettr #fun fact that pupil shape is the one I’ve been giving bdubs lately #no relation but thought it would be fun since I amped up the mossy-ness of Occult #i mean my mc skins do have his moss hoodie lmao #i considered giving him a jellie plush but made it a fox instead lol #minesona

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drhoz · 1 month

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#2056 - Mycena tenerrima -

Frosty Bonnet

Photo by Patrick Wake

Found growing in a sodden woodpile.

Apparently a synonym of M. adscendens, but the various resources I'm using seem to contradict each other as to which name has priority, and the geographic range. It doesn't help that there are other very similar genera in the genus, so for the time being I'm going with Neale Bougher's guide to fungi of the Perth region.

#mycena #australian fungi #cooleenup island #mycenaceae #australian mushroom

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productsreviewings · 1 year

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Spring could also be simply across the nook, however the chill issue and freezing temperatures are nonetheless right here. Typically, it could wreak havoc on our lovely gardens, and in case your evergreen garden is now coated in glistening snow, chances are you'll profit from the following tips. Whereas it could seem to be your garden's days are over, there are issues you are able to do to guard your garden from winter injury. Based on gardening consultants, these important lawncare ideas will guarantee a wholesome backyard, and a greater likelihood of surviving the colder months. So if you wish to know how one can defend your garden and preserve it in prime form, observe these 5 lawncare tricks to beat the frost.1. By no means attempt to 'defrost' your gardenSalt in a spade (Picture credit score: Shutterstock)Whereas it could be tempting to attempt to defrost your garden whereas salting your backyard paths, by no means apply it to frozen grass. What's extra, if temperatures are nonetheless low, making use of water could cause extra injury to your garden. "Strolling on icy steps or a frozen driveway may be harmful, and sprinkling salt may be actually efficient at melting ice and snow," says gardening knowledgeable and founder Suhail Patel. Luxurious curtains (opens in new tab). "Nonetheless, it's best to all the time keep away from utilizing salt in an ice backyard as a result of it could injury some vegetation, particularly evergreens, and forestall regrowth." It's all the time greatest to depart your garden alone and permit it to defrost naturally.2. Preserve the grass off Sneakers on a frosty garden (Picture credit score: Shutterstock)We regularly assume that frost alone can injury a garden, nonetheless, strolling on the grass could cause injury. It is because any stress utilized to a frozen garden will break the frozen grass leaves and doubtlessly injury the foundation system. Moreover, grass blades are extraordinarily delicate in winter and lack power. "Whereas boot grip on frozen grass and vegetation may be satisfying, it is not so excellent news to your inexperienced," advises Patel. "Strolling on ice or frozen floor can simply injury the underside of plant roots in addition to compact the soil and thereby reduce off the water your vegetation must preserve them wholesome." To cut back the danger of harm, keep away from strolling in your garden when it is snowing and wait till it is fully thawed.3. Preserve your garden clearLeaves on a frosty garden (Picture credit score: Shutterstock)Clear your garden of useless leaves, branches or different backyard particles throughout snow. Usually, leaving moist leaves in your garden throughout freezing climate will create a perfect breeding floor for 'snow mould' to develop. This sort of garden illness thrives in damp and darkish situations and may severely injury your grass or worse, kill your garden.Specialists suggest utilizing useless leaves and particles to create mulch and reuse it in your backyard. "Mulch may be made utilizing natural matter equivalent to decaying leaves, bark, straw or compost," says backyard knowledgeable and founder Chris Bonnet. (opens in new tab)GardeningExpress.co.uk (opens in new tab). "Inserting it round plant roots will assist insulate and defend them from the chilly, nonetheless, this solely works with hardy vegetation."In order for you simpler tips about recycling backyard leaves, test these out 5 Methods to Use Fallen Leaves in Your Backyard 4. Do not mow your grass Lawnmower within the snow (Picture credit score: Shutterstock)Though you need a neat and well-maintained garden year-round, keep away from mowing your garden after an in a single day snowfall. Grass blades can be extraordinarily fragile, so the strain of your garden mower will solely break the grass plant, inflicting critical injury. What's extra, as soon as damaged, the grass plant won't be able to heal from this injury, which can make it harder when attempting.

Revive useless grass Simply in time for the hotter months.As an alternative, wait till the grass is totally thawed, or when the climate warms up earlier than taking out the lawnmower! In any case, guarantee that none of those are created 7 Lawnmower errors. 5. Plant safety Outside vegetation coated in fur within the snow (Picture credit score: Shutterstock)As you're employed in your garden, you should definitely defend your vegetation from frost. If you wish to preserve the one that you love, potted vegetation alive, it could be worthwhile to maneuver them indoors throughout freezing temperatures. "Throughout chilly climate, it is a good suggestion to perform a little analysis in your backyard vegetation to search out out which of them needs to be moved indoors throughout a giant freeze," recommends Patel. "Whereas some vegetation are fairly pleased to be exterior in chilly climate, others won't fare so effectively and can should be introduced inside till hotter temperatures arrive."One other tip is to wrap delicate vegetation with bubble wrap or particular fleece that may defend the plant from warmth and harsh climate. You'll be able to cowl the highest of the soil with a mulch to guard it from freezing and thawing.For extra garden care ideas, take a look at Methods to make your grass inexperienced in 8 straightforward steps, Methods to Plant Grass Seed Methods to lay sod to make your grass greener and improve your garden. Earlier than you do, although, be sure you're not making any of those seven frequent garden care errors.At the moment's greatest gardening gloves offers

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kirklandmunoz · 1 year

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#women jacket

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whileiamdying · 7 years

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Emily Brontë’s WUTHERING HEIGHTS; Chapter XI

Sometimes, while meditating on these things in solitude, I’ve got up in a sudden terror, and put on my bonnet to go see how all was at the farm. I’ve persuaded my conscience that it was a duty to warn him how people talked regarding his ways; and then I’ve recollected his confirmed bad habits, and, hopeless of benefiting him, have flinched from re-entering the dismal house, doubting if I could bear to be taken at my word.

One time I passed the old gate, going out of my way, on a journey to Gimmerton. It was about the period that my narrative has reached: a bright frosty afternoon; the ground bare, and the road hard and dry. I came to a stone where the highway branches off on to the moor at your left hand; a rough sand-pillar, with the letters W. H. cut on its north side, on the east, G., and on the south-west, T. G. It serves as a guide-post to the Grange, the Heights, and village. The sun shone yellow on its grey head, reminding me of summer; and I cannot say why, but all at once a gush of child’s sensations flowed into my heart. Hindley and I held it a favourite spot twenty years before. I gazed long at the weather-worn block; and, stooping down, perceived a hole near the bottom still full of snail-shells and pebbles, which we were fond of storing there with more perishable things; and, as fresh as reality, it appeared that I beheld my early playmate seated on the withered turf: his dark, square head bent forward, and his little hand scooping out the earth with a piece of slate. “Poor Hindley!” I exclaimed, involuntarily. I started: my bodily eye was cheated into a momentary belief that the child lifted its face and stared straight into mine! It vanished in a twinkling; but immediately I felt an irresistible yearning to be at the Heights. Superstition urged me to comply with this impulse: supposing he should be dead! I thought—or should die soon!—supposing it were a sign of death! The nearer I got to the house the more agitated I grew; and on catching sight of it I trembled in every limb. The apparition had outstripped me: it stood looking through the gate. That was my first idea on observing an elf-locked, brown-eyed boy setting his ruddy countenance against the bars. Further reflection suggested this must be Hareton, my Hareton, not altered greatly since I left him, ten months since.

“God bless thee, darling!” I cried, forgetting instantaneously my foolish fears. “Hareton, it’s Nelly! Nelly, thy nurse.”

He retreated out of arm’s length, and picked up a large flint.

“I am come to see thy father, Hareton,” I added, guessing from the action that Nelly, if she lived in his memory at all, was not recognised as one with me.

He raised his missile to hurl it; I commenced a soothing speech, but could not stay his hand: the stone struck my bonnet; and then ensued, from the stammering lips of the little fellow, a string of curses, which, whether he comprehended them or not, were delivered with practised emphasis, and distorted his baby features into a shocking expression of malignity. You may be certain this grieved more than angered me. Fit to cry, I took an orange from my pocket, and offered it to propitiate him. He hesitated, and then snatched it from my hold; as if he fancied I only intended to tempt and disappoint him. I showed another, keeping it out of his reach.

“Who has taught you those fine words, my bairn?” I inquired. “The curate?”

“Damn the curate, and thee! Gie me that,” he replied.

“Tell us where you got your lessons, and you shall have it,” said I. “Who’s your master?”

“Devil daddy,” was his answer.

“And what do you learn from daddy?” I continued.

He jumped at the fruit; I raised it higher. “What does he teach you?” I asked.

“Naught,” said he, “but to keep out of his gait. Daddy cannot bide me, because I swear at him.”

“Ah! and the devil teaches you to swear at daddy?” I observed.

“Ay—nay,” he drawled.

“Who, then?”

“Heathcliff.”

“I asked if he liked Mr. Heathcliff.”

“Ay!” he answered again.

Desiring to have his reasons for liking him, I could only gather the sentences—“I known’t: he pays dad back what he gies to me—he curses daddy for cursing me. He says I mun do as I will.”

“And the curate does not teach you to read and write, then?” I pursued.

“No, I was told the curate should have his —— teeth dashed down his —— throat, if he stepped over the threshold—Heathcliff had promised that!”

I put the orange in his hand, and bade him tell his father that a woman called Nelly Dean was waiting to speak with him, by the garden gate. He went up the walk, and entered the house; but, instead of Hindley, Heathcliff appeared on the door-stones; and I turned directly and ran down the road as hard as ever I could race, making no halt till I gained the guide-post, and feeling as scared as if I had raised a goblin. This is not much connected with Miss Isabella’s affair: except that it urged me to resolve further on mounting vigilant guard, and doing my utmost to check the spread of such bad influence at the Grange: even though I should wake a domestic storm, by thwarting Mrs. Linton’s pleasure.

The next time Heathcliff came my young lady chanced to be feeding some pigeons in the court. She had never spoken a word to her sister-in-law for three days; but she had likewise dropped her fretful complaining, and we found it a great comfort. Heathcliff had not the habit of bestowing a single unnecessary civility on Miss Linton, I knew. Now, as soon as he beheld her, his first precaution was to take a sweeping survey of the house-front. I was standing by the kitchen-window, but I drew out of sight. He then stepped across the pavement to her, and said something: she seemed embarrassed, and desirous of getting away; to prevent it, he laid his hand on her arm. She averted her face: he apparently put some question which she had no mind to answer. There was another rapid glance at the house, and supposing himself unseen, the scoundrel had the impudence to embrace her.

“Judas! Traitor!” I ejaculated. “You are a hypocrite, too, are you? A deliberate deceiver.”

“Who is, Nelly?” said Catherine’s voice at my elbow: I had been over-intent on watching the pair outside to mark her entrance.

“Your worthless friend!” I answered, warmly: “the sneaking rascal yonder. Ah, he has caught a glimpse of us—he is coming in! I wonder will he have the heart to find a plausible excuse for making love to Miss, when he told you he hated her?”

Mrs. Linton saw Isabella tear herself free, and run into the garden; and a minute after, Heathcliff opened the door. I couldn’t withhold giving some loose to my indignation; but Catherine angrily insisted on silence, and threatened to order me out of the kitchen, if I dared to be so presumptuous as to put in my insolent tongue.

“To hear you, people might think you were the mistress!” she cried. “You want setting down in your right place! Heathcliff, what are you about, raising this stir? I said you must let Isabella alone!—I beg you will, unless you are tired of being received here, and wish Linton to draw the bolts against you!”

“God forbid that he should try!” answered the black villain. I detested him just then. “God keep him meek and patient! Every day I grow madder after sending him to heaven!”

“Hush!” said Catherine, shutting the inner door. “Don’t vex me. Why have you disregarded my request? Did she come across you on purpose?”

“What is it to you?” he growled. “I have a right to kiss her, if she chooses; and you have no right to object. I am not your husband: you needn’t be jealous of me!”

“I’m not jealous of you,” replied the mistress; “I’m jealous for you. Clear your face: you sha’n’t scowl at me! If you like Isabella, you shall marry her. But do you like her? Tell the truth, Heathcliff! There, you won’t answer. I’m certain you don’t.”

“And would Mr. Linton approve of his sister marrying that man?” I inquired.

“Mr. Linton should approve,” returned my lady, decisively.

“He might spare himself the trouble,” said Heathcliff: “I could do as well without his approbation. And as to you, Catherine, I have a mind to speak a few words now, while we are at it. I want you to be aware that I know you have treated me infernally—infernally! Do you hear? And if you flatter yourself that I don’t perceive it, you are a fool; and if you think I can be consoled by sweet words, you are an idiot: and if you fancy I’ll suffer unrevenged, I’ll convince you of the contrary, in a very little while! Meantime, thank you for telling me your sister-in-law’s secret: I swear I’ll make the most of it. And stand you aside!”

“What new phase of his character is this?” exclaimed Mrs. Linton, in amazement. “I’ve treated you infernally—and you’ll take your revenge! How will you take it, ungrateful brute? How have I treated you infernally?”

“I seek no revenge on you,” replied Heathcliff, less vehemently. “That’s not the plan. The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t turn against him; they crush those beneath them. You are welcome to torture me to death for your amusement, only allow me to amuse myself a little in the same style, and refrain from insult as much as you are able. Having levelled my palace, don’t erect a hovel and complacently admire your own charity in giving me that for a home. If I imagined you really wished me to marry Isabel, I’d cut my throat!”

“Oh, the evil is that I am not jealous, is it?” cried Catherine. “Well, I won’t repeat my offer of a wife: it is as bad as offering Satan a lost soul. Your bliss lies, like his, in inflicting misery. You prove it. Edgar is restored from the ill-temper he gave way to at your coming; I begin to be secure and tranquil; and you, restless to know us at peace, appear resolved on exciting a quarrel. Quarrel with Edgar, if you please, Heathcliff, and deceive his sister: you’ll hit on exactly the most efficient method of revenging yourself on me.”

The conversation ceased. Mrs. Linton sat down by the fire, flushed and gloomy. The spirit which served her was growing intractable: she could neither lay nor control it. He stood on the hearth with folded arms, brooding on his evil thoughts; and in this position I left them to seek the master, who was wondering what kept Catherine below so long.

“Ellen,” said he, when I entered, “have you seen your mistress?”

“Yes; she’s in the kitchen, sir,” I answered. “She’s sadly put out by Mr. Heathcliff’s behaviour: and, indeed, I do think it’s time to arrange his visits on another footing. There’s harm in being too soft, and now it’s come to this—.” And I related the scene in the court, and, as near as I dared, the whole subsequent dispute. I fancied it could not be very prejudicial to Mrs. Linton; unless she made it so afterwards, by assuming the defensive for her guest. Edgar Linton had difficulty in hearing me to the close. His first words revealed that he did not clear his wife of blame.

“This is insufferable!” he exclaimed. “It is disgraceful that she should own him for a friend, and force his company on me! Call me two men out of the hall, Ellen. Catherine shall linger no longer to argue with the low ruffian—I have humoured her enough.”

He descended, and bidding the servants wait in the passage, went, followed by me, to the kitchen. Its occupants had recommenced their angry discussion: Mrs. Linton, at least, was scolding with renewed vigour; Heathcliff had moved to the window, and hung his head, somewhat cowed by her violent rating apparently. He saw the master first, and made a hasty motion that she should be silent; which she obeyed, abruptly, on discovering the reason of his intimation.

“How is this?” said Linton, addressing her; “what notion of propriety must you have to remain here, after the language which has been held to you by that blackguard? I suppose, because it is his ordinary talk you think nothing of it: you are habituated to his baseness, and, perhaps, imagine I can get used to it too!”

“Have you been listening at the door, Edgar?” asked the mistress, in a tone particularly calculated to provoke her husband, implying both carelessness and contempt of his irritation. Heathcliff, who had raised his eyes at the former speech, gave a sneering laugh at the latter; on purpose, it seemed, to draw Mr. Linton’s attention to him. He succeeded; but Edgar did not mean to entertain him with any high flights of passion.

“I’ve been so far forbearing with you, sir,” he said quietly; “not that I was ignorant of your miserable, degraded character, but I felt you were only partly responsible for that; and Catherine wishing to keep up your acquaintance, I acquiesced—foolishly. Your presence is a moral poison that would contaminate the most virtuous: for that cause, and to prevent worse consequences, I shall deny you hereafter admission into this house, and give notice now that I require your instant departure. Three minutes’ delay will render it involuntary and ignominious.”

Heathcliff measured the height and breadth of the speaker with an eye full of derision.

“Cathy, this lamb of yours threatens like a bull!” he said. “It is in danger of splitting its skull against my knuckles. By God! Mr. Linton, I’m mortally sorry that you are not worth knocking down!”

My master glanced towards the passage, and signed me to fetch the men: he had no intention of hazarding a personal encounter. I obeyed the hint; but Mrs. Linton, suspecting something, followed; and when I attempted to call them, she pulled me back, slammed the door to, and locked it.

“Fair means!” she said, in answer to her husband’s look of angry surprise. “If you have not courage to attack him, make an apology, or allow yourself to be beaten. It will correct you of feigning more valour than you possess. No, I’ll swallow the key before you shall get it! I’m delightfully rewarded for my kindness to each! After constant indulgence of one’s weak nature, and the other’s bad one, I earn for thanks two samples of blind ingratitude, stupid to absurdity! Edgar, I was defending you and yours; and I wish Heathcliff may flog you sick, for daring to think an evil thought of me!”

It did not need the medium of a flogging to produce that effect on the master. He tried to wrest the key from Catherine’s grasp, and for safety she flung it into the hottest part of the fire; whereupon Mr. Edgar was taken with a nervous trembling, and his countenance grew deadly pale. For his life he could not avert that excess of emotion: mingled anguish and humiliation overcame him completely. He leant on the back of a chair, and covered his face.

“Oh, heavens! In old days this would win you knighthood!” exclaimed Mrs. Linton. “We are vanquished! we are vanquished! Heathcliff would as soon lift a finger at you as the king would march his army against a colony of mice. Cheer up! you sha’n’t be hurt! Your type is not a lamb, it’s a sucking leveret.”

“I wish you joy of the milk-blooded coward, Cathy!” said her friend. “I compliment you on your taste. And that is the slavering, shivering thing you preferred to me! I would not strike him with my fist, but I’d kick him with my foot, and experience considerable satisfaction. Is he weeping, or is he going to faint for fear?”

The fellow approached and gave the chair on which Linton rested a push. He’d better have kept his distance: my master quickly sprang erect, and struck him full on the throat a blow that would have levelled a slighter man. It took his breath for a minute; and while he choked, Mr. Linton walked out by the back door into the yard, and from thence to the front entrance.

“There! you’ve done with coming here,” cried Catherine. “Get away, now; he’ll return with a brace of pistols and half-a-dozen assistants. If he did overhear us, of course he’d never forgive you. You’ve played me an ill turn, Heathcliff! But go—make haste! I’d rather see Edgar at bay than you.”

“Do you suppose I’m going with that blow burning in my gullet?” he thundered. “By hell, no! I’ll crush his ribs in like a rotten hazel-nut before I cross the threshold! If I don’t floor him now, I shall murder him some time; so, as you value his existence, let me get at him!”

“He is not coming,” I interposed, framing a bit of a lie. “There’s the coachman and the two gardeners; you’ll surely not wait to be thrust into the road by them! Each has a bludgeon; and master will, very likely, be watching from the parlour-windows to see that they fulfil his orders.”

The gardeners and coachman were there: but Linton was with them. They had already entered the court. Heathcliff, on the second thoughts, resolved to avoid a struggle against three underlings: he seized the poker, smashed the lock from the inner door, and made his escape as they tramped in.

Mrs. Linton, who was very much excited, bade me accompany her upstairs. She did not know my share in contributing to the disturbance, and I was anxious to keep her in ignorance.

“I’m nearly distracted, Nelly!” she exclaimed, throwing herself on the sofa. “A thousand smiths’ hammers are beating in my head! Tell Isabella to shun me; this uproar is owing to her; and should she or any one else aggravate my anger at present, I shall get wild. And, Nelly, say to Edgar, if you see him again to-night, that I’m in danger of being seriously ill. I wish it may prove true. He has startled and distressed me shockingly! I want to frighten him. Besides, he might come and begin a string of abuse or complainings; I’m certain I should recriminate, and God knows where we should end! Will you do so, my good Nelly? You are aware that I am no way blamable in this matter. What possessed him to turn listener? Heathcliff’s talk was outrageous, after you left us; but I could soon have diverted him from Isabella, and the rest meant nothing. Now all is dashed wrong; by the fool’s craving to hear evil of self, that haunts some people like a demon! Had Edgar never gathered our conversation, he would never have been the worse for it. Really, when he opened on me in that unreasonable tone of displeasure after I had scolded Heathcliff till I was hoarse for him; I did not care hardly what they did to each other; especially as I felt that, however the scene closed, we should all be driven asunder for nobody knows how long! Well, if I cannot keep Heathcliff for my friend—if Edgar will be mean and jealous, I’ll try to break their hearts by breaking my own. That will be a prompt way of finishing all, when I am pushed to extremity! But it’s a deed to be reserved for a forlorn hope; I’d not take Linton by surprise with it. To this point he has been discreet in dreading to provoke me; you must represent the peril of quitting that policy, and remind him of my passionate temper, verging, when kindled, on frenzy. I wish you could dismiss that apathy out of that countenance, and look rather more anxious about me.”

The stolidity with which I received these instructions was, no doubt, rather exasperating: for they were delivered in perfect sincerity; but I believed a person who could plan the turning of her fits of passion to account, beforehand, might, by exerting her will, manage to control herself tolerably, even while under their influence; and I did not wish to “frighten” her husband, as she said, and multiply his annoyances for the purpose of serving her selfishness. Therefore I said nothing when I met the master coming towards the parlour; but I took the liberty of turning back to listen whether they would resume their quarrel together. He began to speak first.

“Remain where you are, Catherine,” he said; without any anger in his voice, but with much sorrowful despondency. “I shall not stay. I am neither come to wrangle nor be reconciled; but I wish just to learn whether, after this evening’s events, you intend to continue your intimacy with—”

“Oh, for mercy’s sake,” interrupted the mistress, stamping her foot, “for mercy’s sake, let us hear no more of it now! Your cold blood cannot be worked into a fever: your veins are full of ice-water; but mine are boiling, and the sight of such chillness makes them dance.”

“To get rid of me, answer my question,” persevered Mr. Linton. “You must answer it; and that violence does not alarm me. I have found that you can be as stoical as anyone, when you please. Will you give up Heathcliff hereafter, or will you give up me? It is impossible for you to be my friend and his at the same time; and I absolutely require to know which you choose.”

“I require to be let alone!” exclaimed Catherine, furiously. “I demand it! Don’t you see I can scarcely stand? Edgar, you—you leave me!”

She rang the bell till it broke with a twang; I entered leisurely. It was enough to try the temper of a saint, such senseless, wicked rages! There she lay dashing her head against the arm of the sofa, and grinding her teeth, so that you might fancy she would crash them to splinters! Mr. Linton stood looking at her in sudden compunction and fear. He told me to fetch some water. She had no breath for speaking. I brought a glass full; and as she would not drink, I sprinkled it on her face. In a few seconds she stretched herself out stiff, and turned up her eyes, while her cheeks, at once blanched and livid, assumed the aspect of death. Linton looked terrified.

“There is nothing in the world the matter,” I whispered. I did not want him to yield, though I could not help being afraid in my heart.

“She has blood on her lips!” he said, shuddering.

“Never mind!” I answered, tartly. And I told him how she had resolved, previous to his coming, on exhibiting a fit of frenzy. I incautiously gave the account aloud, and she heard me; for she started up—her hair flying over her shoulders, her eyes flashing, the muscles of her neck and arms standing out preternaturally. I made up my mind for broken bones, at least; but she only glared about her for an instant, and then rushed from the room. The master directed me to follow; I did, to her chamber-door: she hindered me from going further by securing it against me.

As she never offered to descend to breakfast next morning, I went to ask whether she would have some carried up. “No!” she replied, peremptorily. The same question was repeated at dinner and tea; and again on the morrow after, and received the same answer. Mr. Linton, on his part, spent his time in the library, and did not inquire concerning his wife’s occupations. Isabella and he had had an hour’s interview, during which he tried to elicit from her some sentiment of proper horror for Heathcliff’s advances: but he could make nothing of her evasive replies, and was obliged to close the examination unsatisfactorily; adding, however, a solemn warning, that if she were so insane as to encourage that worthless suitor, it would dissolve all bonds of relationship between herself and him.

#Wuthering Heights #Emily Brontë #Gutenberg Project

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sinning-23 · 2 years

Text

Sleep Headcanons

Arcane simps lets gooooo

Sevika

-she doesn't get a lot of sleep (fucking thanks a lot Silco)

-when she does she make sure you're tucked close to her.

-hates sleeping on her mechanic arm because it makes a loud whirring noise

-likes slinging one arm over you, or having contact with you in some way

-please play with her hair, she got it pulled back 24/7 I know she got a headache from it

-talks in her sleep'

-snores

Silco

-bad bitches have sleep apnea

-rarely sleeps, because bad bitches also handle business

-can't seem to get comfortable when he sleeps so he's always tossing and turning.

-expect to wake up with him draped over the side of the bed somehow.

-will never admit that he sleeps like a fucking psycho and wears socks to bed

-has a skincare routine before he sleeps (I don't make the rules)

-quite literally "one eye open when I'm sleeping"

-has night terrors and won't tell you about it. Kinda hurts but you respect that you aren't on that level with him yet

Mel

-sleeps like a fucking vampire

-cannot sleep without drinking milk first

...weirdo shit

-either sleeps with the lights on or something playing

-goes to bed early like the bad bitch she is. Beauty sleep is essential

-sleeps naked

-fetal position

-for the love of gods don't wake her up unless you have a death wish

-also talks in her sleep

-big cuddler

-will probably roll over on top of you

-HEAVY sleeper

-will get upset about the blanket ratio

"you have more blanket than me! Look!"

-prefers to be the big spoon

-kisses your nose if you fall asleep first

-always has the ac blasting and it never bothers her but you're over there looking like frosty the god damn snowman

-yawns really loud for emphasis of how tired she is

Viktor

-AS STATED BEFORE...BAD! BITCHES! HANDLE! BUSINESS!

therefore he doesn't sleep much

-will make you drag him to bed

-puts up a fuss about nir needing sleep and something about 'science never sleeping'

-passes out as soon as he hits the pillow

-I feel like he wears a bonnet lmao I can't get that out my head

-also has a skincare routine. he doesn't do it often but when he does its serious business

I'm talking serums and oils and 4 different cleaners with 2 separate exfoliants

-always says "sweet dreams my love" and kisses your cheek

Vander

-SOUNDS LIKE A DAMN VOLCANO WHEN HE SNORES

-BOMBS IT SOUNDS LIKE BOMBS

-and then there's a long silence and you have to play the

"is he dead right now" game before he snores again

-loves to have you fall asleep on his chest

-can sleep without blankets, they always end up on the floor anyway since he kicks them off so much

-holds your hand when you fall asleep

-surprisingly light sleeper, he usually scared himself away with that fucking ANIMAL snoring

Jinx

-has nightmares

-doesn't like sleeping sometimes so she'll just stay awake for days

-"jinx please go to bed"

"nah

-when you can get her to lay down she clings to you

-loves being little spoon

-lots and lots and lots of pilloes and blankets

-talks a LOT in her sleep

"take the piza out the dishwasher "

"huh?...oh shes sleep"

Ekko

-can sleep almost anywhere

-sleeps on his stomach and gets mad when his chest hurts the next day from being compressed on it

-durag...need I say more? matching bonnets anyone?

-also snores but its very rare

-drools but won't admit it

"Okay then what is this? this big ass wet stop where your FACE is"

"I don't know what you're talking about. maybe it rained?"

"over your face? inside the room?

"yes"

-makes sure you have water by your side of the bed in case you get thirsty at 3 am.

#ekko #silco #jinx #mel medarda #sevika #vander #viktor #headcannons #sleep #cute #semisad?#comfort characters #arcane

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jumpedoverthemoon · 3 years

Text

Mycena adscendens (frosty bonnet)

#cottagecore #forest #aesthetic #green #nature #cozy #plants #happy #honeycore #grandmacore #mushrooms #fairycore

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mycoblogg · 9 months

Note

What's your top three favorite fungi that you have found/seen irl?

oh, i *love* this question. unfortunately, i do not have access to my camera roll so i can't provide my own photos !! however, i will try to find the closest ones from the internet. (the sources of each image will be below the cut, as usual<3)

1 // death cap mushroom (amanita phalloides) : this mushroom was absolutely insane to find because it is the world's most poisonous mushroom !! i found it earlier this year, completely by accident. i was looking for a different mushroom i had driven past with my brother, then he spotted it. :-) i was so happy i immediately patted it.

2 // frosty bonnet (mycena adscendens) : another "most" - this is the smallest mushroom in the world !! i've found these multiple times ; i believe they're quite common here. i found a few at my boyfriend's house, a few down the street, & some growing on a moss-covered tree. they are so tiny i couldn't photograph them with my phone !! (& i didn't have my camera with me)

3 // chicken of the woods (laetiporus sulphureus) : this was one of the first i found, & i found a *huge* cluster !! it was at my old high school. my friend & i used a looong branch to break off a piece from a tree. my mother wouldn't let me eat it, but i am sure i could've. ^^"

so, yeah !! those are probably my picks. :-) i have also seen beautiful purple & green ones, but i couldn't stop to take a picture so i couldn't iD them.

[images : source, source & source]

#• askbox replies: •#(ask : tylovesmushrooms)#||#great to see you btw !!#always happy to get an ask from you :-)#|#: frosty bonnet :#[mycena adscendens]#: death cap :#[amanita phalloides #: chicken of the woods :#[laetiporus sulphureus]

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wendy130 · 3 years

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(This is for after you wake up, do not do this tonight, you need the rest)How about Tiny mushroom george and dream stuff?(I don't know what to choose so surprise me!)

Title: “Happy National Mushroom Day”

//This was originally going to be something else, but one of my friends needed some fluff, so I changed it to this. :]

//(Ngl, the other idea was going to be a lot shorter and prob more boring, so thank ye for the inspiration for fluff, Monarch <3 )

//Based off of this post, specifically this part:

//”Once, while Dream was sleeping, George covered his entire bed and part of his room with mushrooms. Dream’s reactions was priceless :] He had groggily gotten up and it took him a whole five minutes to realize there were a bunch of tiny mushrooms (most likely frosty bonnets/Mycena Adscendens) protruding from his bedsheets and pillow and oh god the walls-”

----------

George grinned at his masterpiece and scanned over the walls and floor of Dream’s room. Every little nook in the wall and every small crack on the ground were filled with hundreds of different mushrooms; hell, even the ceiling wasn’t spared from his destruction. Most were the typical dirt brown, creamy white, and bright red types, but there were also iridescent blue, inky black, and pale purple mushrooms mixed in with the bunch. On the ceiling, small, black mushrooms dotted the edges of the beige top, and on the walls, bunches of them clung to the sides.

He hopped from one mushroom to another until he reached the foot of Dream’s bed, in which he grabbed onto the fluffy fabric and started to climb. After heaving himself up, he wiped his forehead. He still had much more work to do. And that started with Dream’s bed.

Oh, Dream was going to hate him once he woke up.

----

Dream groggily woke up on his bed and dragged himself halfway up his bed; slowly, he rubbed at his eyes, shooing the sleep away from them. He cracked his eyes open slightly to see his green bedsheets with their dotted mushroom pattern.

Wait.

Dotted mushroom pattern?

He shot up from the bedsheets, and his eyes locked onto the mess of his room. What the fuck? He threw off his covers, and his head swiveled around to take in more of his surroundings. Mushrooms adorned his walls and floor. What the fuck. Was he still sleeping? He pinched himself. Ow, nope, definitely awake. He couldn’t even get out of his bed unless he wanted to feel the gross squishing feeling of stepping on the mushrooms. What had happened since he had fallen asleep?

“Mornin’ sleepyhead,” a voice called to him from his left. He snapped his gaze to look at where the voice came from. He found George grinning like a madman while resting on one of the bigger mushrooms that hung to his walls. “Did you sleep well?”

“George, what the fuck?” He asked in an incredulous tone. George started to giggle at this,

“Happy national mushroom day!” he exclaimed. Dream’s face contorted to a more annoyed and dismayed expression. Noticing this, George added on, “don’t worry, I’ll help you take all of this down. It should only take an hour, and no damage is done to your room.”

With this newfound information, Dream loosened up and started to laugh himself, “how long did this take you to make this?” George paused, and a sheepish look crossed his face,

“Uh... I only got an hour of sleep after starting this as soon as you fell asleep.” Dream’s eyes widened,

“You WHAT?“ he yelled in disbelief. He watched as George simply rubbed at his nape and shrugged. “That’s it. We’re getting rid of these mushrooms later, and you’re getting sleep right now.” He threw himself up and ignored the mushrooms strung across the floor. Striding towards George, he picked up the small mushroom boy in his arms and brought him back to his bed.

George retaliated, “wait, wait, wait- I’m fine. As much as I love sleeping, we don’t have to-” Dream plopped down onto his bed and cut him off,

“Nope, you’re getting some well-needed sleep.” With that, Dream fell to his side and cradled George to his chest; he ignored the grumbling that George made and simply snuggled closer to George, pretty much spooning the sleep-deprived tiny.

It didn’t take long for the small boy to fall asleep, especially when he was surrounded by warmth. Dream sighed in contentment, shifting his sleeping pose slightly so it would be more comfortable. As he did that, though, he felt a cool sensation poke at his arm. He huffed and frowned slightly; he was definitely going to ban George from doing this ever again.

#g/t #g/t mcyt #g/t Georgenotfound #g/t Dreamwastaken #g/t Mushroom George #drabble #writing #ask

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nooneelsecomesclose17 · 3 years

Text

Go to the ends of the earth for you - Part 4

Bet you thought I'd forgotten this didn't you? I have no excuses, except that it's been misbehaving and would not go right. It was meant to be the last chapter but they had a lot to say even though not much happens!

(AO3 link)

Fourteen months later

Aaron couldn’t stand still, never mind Seb. It was early, he’d left the village far too early in his excitement, but he hadn’t wanted to be late, that would’ve been unbearable. It’s two months since they’d found out his release date, it coming through the day of Annie’s funeral and now the day was finally here.

“How long Dada?”

“Not long mate. Do you want to sit inside the car? Are you cold?”

“No. I don’t want to miss Daddy.” He smiled and wrapped an arm round him, sitting next to him on the bonnet of the car. He couldn’t help wondering if this was how Robert had felt all those years ago, waiting, wondering.

“You won’t. Promise.”

“And he’s staying, not goin’ away again?”

“No, definitely not. He’s not going anywhere.”

“Not even if those people don’t like him?”

“What people?” He could sense a note of fear in Seb’s voice, suddenly quiet.

“The man with no hair, Granny Faith took me to get a cookie and I heard him, he was talking about Daddy.” Aaron let out a sigh. He’d had very little to do with Paddy or his Mum the past year but he knew their dislike of Robert hadn’t dimmed one little bit, and now it was affecting Seb. He crouched in front of him, ruffling his hair a little.

“Daddy’s not going anywhere, no matter what anyone says. So if you hear anyone talking about him again take no notice ok?” Seb nods and leans forward for a cuddle. Aaron doesn’t want to let him go so he just stays like that.

“Can I get in on that hug.” The voice startles him so much he almost drops Seb in shock. Turning he finds Robert standing there, familiar grin in place, and he laughs a little.

“Daddy!”

“Hi little man.” Aaron hands him over to Robert with a smile, content to wait for his own moment with him. “You’ve got so big!”

“I’m almost half the window!” Robert looks confused, looking to Aaron for help.

“We’ve been marking how he’s growing haven’t we? Every Friday night he stands next to the window and we put a mark on the wall.”

“That’s amazing.” He lets Seb chatter, eyes never leaving Aaron’s, eventually pulling him into a one armed hug, that would have to do as it seemed Seb was in no mood to let go of his Dad anytime soon.

The excitement is clearly too much and by the time they reach the outskirts of Hotten, Seb’s dropped off in the back of the car, head leaning against the side of his car seat, giraffe toy clutched in his hand. Aaron reaches over and squeezes Robert’s hand.

“You ok?”

“I am now. So, what am I facing back in the village?”

“Nothing much, I promise. Gran said she might pop in, and Vic wants you to meet Harry, at some point but I told her to leave it for today. I don’t think Paddy or my Mum will be hanging out any bunting, if that’s what you were hoping for.”

“I got that much…Seb heard him?” Aaron nods. “Great.”

“Hey, it was a one off. It won’t be long before we’re out of there will it?”

“You still want to leave?”

“I want what’s best for our family, and I don’t think that’s the village is it.”

Robert doesn’t answer and he’s quiet for the rest of the drive. Aaron leaves him to it, knowing it takes some adjustment when you first get out of prison. The village is quiet when he pulls the car to a stop at the house, Robert looking around seeing if anything has changed.

“You want to go inside?”

“No. I…can we go to the graveyard?” Aaron nods. “I just want to say goodbye.”

Aaron had hated going to the prison, telling Robert that his Gran had died, knowing he wouldn’t be able to go to the funeral, and say goodbye. Instead Aaron had stood next to Vic in his place, but he knew Robert felt guilty anyway, that he’d not been there.

Robert’s quiet as they stand there, the plaque on the wooden cross glinting in the sunlight. He shifted Seb in his arms so he could take his hand.

“Vic wouldn’t hear of sorting out a stone, not until you were here, same with her will.”

“I should’ve called more, should’ve visited, but I got so wrapped up in everything, and I suppose, I knew what she’d say about Chrissie, knew she’d see through me especially after I met you, so I stayed away. Then everything just kept getting in the way.”

“You called, I heard you. She knew you loved her Robert.”

“Maybe. I wish she could’ve met him,” He runs a hand through Seb’s hair, the little boy still sleeping, head resting on Aaron’s shoulder. “And you.”

“What would she have said about me then?” Robert chuckles.

“He’s a nice enough lad, Robert, but he could dress a bit more smartly. You know what I think of those hoodie things. She would’ve loved ya, known how much I love you.” He takes another look at the grave. “Come on, let’s go home.”

————

The next few days are quiet, the weekend allowing them the excuse to stay indoors away from everyone. The only people they see are Vic with Harry and his Gran who drops in with some supplies insisting she knew they wouldn’t want to go to the shop, full of apologies for what Seb overheard, which they wave away because it’s not her fault that Paddy just can’t keep his mouth shut.

After that Aaron has to go back to work. Cain probably wouldn’t mind if he took some more time but he doesn’t want to take advantage, and besides they have to try and get back to normality at some point.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take him to nursery?” Robert’s staring at a cup of coffee and has been the past twenty minutes, but he looks over at Seb who’s playing by the sofa.

“I can take care of him.”

“I know, but…I s’pose I thought you’d want to check in at the haulage firm. He’ll be fine there, he likes it.” He steps over, hands resting on Robert’s shoulders. “I can come with you if you want, Cain will give me an extra hour.”

“You think I can’t cope?” He doesn’t react, he’s gotten used to the defensive tone in Robert’s voice over the past few days, knows it’s not directed at him.

“No. Of course you can, but I know how strange it is coming back after you’ve been inside, and that’s without wanting to avoid my family.” Robert looks up at him. “I’m not daft Robert.”

“I know that.”

“So…why don’t we take Seb to nursery this morning, and you pick him up and the three of us will have lunch. We can’t stay shut in here for the next year.” Robert nods. “Come on monster, you ready for nursery?”

“What about Daddy?”

“I’ll pick you up at lunchtime, and then me, you and Dada are going to the…where are we going?” He asks as he tries to get Seb to stand still long enough to get into his coat.

“Pub?”

“Feel like living dangerously do you?”

“I’m not hidin’. We can do the cafe if you’d rather.”

“No, no, it’s been a while since I’ve felt the death rays, I almost miss them.” Happy that he’s brought a smile to his face, Aaron kisses him goodbye and hurries Seb out of the door.

————

The pub is about half full when they get inside and he points at the table by the fire telling Robert he’ll get their drinks while he settles Seb down. He can see his Mum by the bar, pretending not to look at them but he knows better. She’s next to Cain who lifts his pint and winks at him. He’d told him his plan that morning. He wasn’t going to let Robert feel as though he couldn’t go about the village because of his Mum and Paddy. Robert hadn’t said as much but Aaron wasn’t stupid. He goes to order but Robert’s hand on his arm stops him and he smiles.

Matty takes their order and everyone leaves them alone. There’s some kind of delay with their food, Marlon’s probably having one of his tantrums so he goes to order another drink. He knows his Mum has been watching the whole time.

He subtly waves Matty away when he tries to serve him, locking eyes with his Mum and staring until she comes over.

“Two pints and an orange for Seb please.” He bites back a laugh when she all but snatches the money from him without saying a word.

“Playing with fire aren’t you?” Cain sidles round the bar to his side.

“I told you, I’m not hiding away and neither is Robert. Are you going to throw the Dingle code in my face if I don’t stop?”

“Nah. I reckon it’s about time she got a taste of her own medicine.” He says seeing her going into the back, their drinks abandoned on the side. He looks over at his uncle, surprised. “Tried telling me I shouldn’t have given you a job not long after I took you on.”

“What?”

“Said I was going against the family. Told her it weren’t me doing that…she ignored me for a few weeks but I reckon she found not many people wanted to listen, so now she’s talking again but she’s frosty. Suits me. Less earache that way.” He snorts a little as Matty brings over the abandoned order. He gives him the rest of their order before going back to the table, not that surprised that Cain follows.

“Alright Sugden. Good to see you.”

“Er, cheers Cain.” He gives Aaron a look but he shakes his head. He’ll tell him later.

“Here.” He hands him his drink when Cain’s gone back to the bar without another word.

“Ta. What’d your Mum say?”

“Nothing. Literally. Guess it’s a good job she’s not like that with all her customers or her trip advisor rating would be rubbish.” He lays a hand on Robert’s knee at the look on his face. “Leave it, she’s not worth the trouble.”

“She’s your Mum.”

“Mmm, who can’t support my decisions. I’ve had a year to get used to this Robert. It’s better than her being in my ear all the time about you.” He looks down at Seb, thankfully engrossed in his colouring and not listening. “She can get as annoyed as she likes, this is our local for the next few months and I’m not avoiding it because of her.”

“I quite like this new you.” He laughs at Robert’s face as Marlon puts their food down with a smile.

“Eat your food.” He can’t help smiling to himself though.

————

“You ready?” Aaron can’t help pulling at his tie as they stand outside the solicitors office in Hotten, the sunshine making him feel hot in his suit. He supposed he didn’t really need one, it was only the reading of a will but Robert had put his on so Aaron had followed suit.

“I think so. Where’s Vic? She said half past?” Robert worrying about being on time was a new thing, probably left over from prison Aaron mused, you lived by timetables in there. He rubbed a hand up his arm to reassure him.

“She was taking Harry and Seb to Diane’s remember? She’ll be here.” Robert nods. He’s been quiet all morning. Aaron supposes he’s still grieving for his Gran and the fact that he couldn’t say goodbye properly. “See, here she is.”

Vic rushes up to them, complaining about Diane keeping her talking and then Robert’s ushering them inside, taking charge and the two of them let him. Aaron wants to laugh at how much time he’s spent in a solicitor’s office this past year for one thing and another and not once because he was in trouble. It made a nice change.

Thankfully they’re not kept waiting and then they’re sitting in this posh office and Aaron can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. He’s always thought of Annie Sugden as a typical farmer’s wife and mother, not well off, just comfortable enough for her old age. Neither Robert nor Vic seem surprised at the sums been bandied about so he keeps quiet.

“No.” Robert’s whisper drags him out of his thoughts, just catching the man in front of them mentioning a house, looking straight at Robert. “She can’t.”

“Mr Sugden…”

“No! She wouldn’t.” He’s out of his chair, all but running from the office before Aaron can stop him. He goes after him, hoping Vic will make their apologies, hoping he’s not got far. He’s right outside, leaning against the wall, breathing hard.

“You ok?”

“Did you hear?”

“Yeah. Your Gran left you her house.” He’s confused by the reaction because surely Robert knew he was in the will, he’d been invited to the reading after all. “That’s…good isn’t it?”

“I don’t deserve it. She…can’t. Not after everything I’ve done.”

“She knew all that, and she still wanted you to have it. She obviously loved you Robert, you were her grandson.”

“No, if she’d know I was in prison she wouldn’t…she’d be so disappointed in me, ruining the Sugden name.”

“Rob?” He moves aside to let the siblings hug each other. He feels out of his depth because he didn’t know Annie, has no idea if Robert’s right. He hopes she wasn’t like that, wouldn’t disown her grandson given everything, but he was so convinced. “It’s what Gran wanted.”

“Should’ve been for you, not me. You’ve been here all these years, I haven’t even visited or anything.”

“You called her, she told me how much she used to love hearing about Seb. Anyway she left me money which is better than a house. It’ll help me more.”

“Vic, did the solicitor say when the will was written?” Aaron can see that Robert’s gearing up for another bout of convincing himself he’s not worth any of it and he says the only thing he can think of.

“About a month before she died.”

“And she knew…about Robert, about what we’d done, everything?” She nods and he smiles in thanks before turning to Robert. “See? She knew everything and she still wanted you to have it.”

“But…”

“No buts. I didn’t know her, so you tell me, did anyone ever make your Gran do anything she didn’t want?” He snorts and Vic’s laughing, leaning against her brother.

“I suppose not. Still…seems unfair, that house is worth more than what you got Vic.”

“Maybe but Gran’s helped me out a lot over the years and not you. I’m not bothered by it Rob, so you don’t need to be.”

“Besides, if you keep it I expect Vic will be quite happy to borrow it every now and then, eh?” She shoves him playfully but his words have the desired effect, Vic’s love of the sunshine is well known and Robert teases her whenever she moans about the lack of it in Yorkshire. “Might have to up the rent mind or she’ll never leave.”

“Oi you! You might be my brother-in-law but I knew you long before he did.”

“Yeah yeah.”

“You didn’t you know.” Robert says as they’re walking back to their cars. “I met him at Katie and Andy’s wedding.”

“You did?” Aaron can just remember being dragged to some party because his Mum was working. He’d just been glad to be away from his Dad for a few days but he can’t remember Robert.

“Mmm. You were sat at the bar on some manky video game. Had a right face on you. Mind you, so did I. I wanted to be anywhere but at their wedding.” His face changes, memories coming all at once and Aaron takes his hand, knowing exactly where his mind has gone. “So…I fancy some chips.”

“Dressed like this?”

“Why not. There’s no law says you can’t eat chips in a suit.” With that he walks ahead leaving Aaron and Vic to catch up, smiling at each other. Aaron’s not blind, he can see just how Robert’s mood has improved from being out of the village, despite the circumstances.

————

“Seb, come on bedtime.” Robert’s in the bath so it’s his turn to try and get the little boy into bed. Just lately he’s become determined to stay up as late as possible even when he’s falling asleep on his feet. “I’ll read you two stories if you go up now.”

“No.”

“It’s already late and you have nursery tomorrow. You don’t want to be too tired to play with Isaac do you?”

“Not go to nursery.” He carries on colouring, despite the adamant statement.

“Why?” Aaron sits down beside him, instantly worried, because he loves nursery and hates leaving.

“Stay here with Daddy. So he’s not sad.”

“Why do you think Daddy will be sad? He knows you like nursery, he won’t mind mate.”

“Cos he was, other day.” Seb whispers, looking up at him with big eyes.

“He was? Do you know why?”

“The man. He saw him. Uncle Cain was there and he told the man to be quiet but Daddy’s still sad.” He crawls into Aaron’s lap, picture abandoned. Aaron doesn’t need to ask which man, Seb only uses those words for one person.

“Oh, well you don’t have to worry about that mate, I’m here now. I’ll make sure Daddy isn’t sad anymore.”

“Why doesn’t the man like Daddy? He’s fun, he plays with me when I ask.”

“I know he does. You don’t worry about any of that ok, I’ll sort it. That man won’t upset Daddy again, promise.” He hugs him tighter before tickling him to make him laugh. “Now, come on, bed. I’ll even let you stay awake until Daddy’s done in the bath, but you have to get into your ‘jamas first.”

He tries his best not to let Seb see how angry he is but he has to take a couple of minutes to himself in the kitchen calming down before going upstairs. He was going to pay a visit to Paddy the next morning because he wasn’t having the little boy upset, let alone Robert.

#robron fic

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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The Birthday Party (Diamond Chaney) - Ortega

fic summary: Ellie spends the night of her birthday crying over a girl that doesn’t like her back. Lawrence will consider the evening a success if she can comfort her without her own heart shattering in the process.

a/n: this one goes out to the anon on my blog that asked me “after rereading freshers au about 3 million times I must ask… are we getting a chapter about Ellie’s 18th birthday party? I’m just thinking about the unrequited crushing/diamond Chaney potential”. apparently i am unable to say no to any anon that comes to me asking for more diamond chaney content, nor am i able to name any of these fics after anything other than 1975 song titles. hope u all enjoy!

***

It’s an image that could hang in the Louvre but it’s one that breaks her heart.

Ellie is sitting on a red brick wall with her legs dangling off it, pale and bare except from a couple of bruises where she’s banged them off the flat’s furniture. The grass on the raised ground behind her is wet and cold, shining under the streetlamps in the damp of that hazy timezone between midnight and morning. She’s right in the middle of the yellow spotlight from above, and Lawrence thinks it’s weird how a colour that’s the same as the sun can all at once seem so cold. The mist, though light, hangs suffocating and stagnant in the air. It casts its moisture over the cars parked on the road opposite, and there’s an urge Lawrence has to push down to draw a little heart on a car bonnet, then zig-zag a line down the middle to break it.

Lawrence thinks she looks like some sort of Disney Channel character come to life; pink and white checked gingham skirt, white, long-sleeved crop top. The pink Filas with the hearts that she’d spent way too much of her student loan on and the matching pink bow that sits squint in her curly, rain-frizzy hair. There’s a crumpled, sad ball of a tissue clutched tight in her white-knuckled hands, and her pink acrylics are outlined with black smudges. Her head hangs towards her lap and as she tilts it to the sky Lawrence can see her face; her makeup, still completely perfect, but with two long, unbroken tear tracks of black mascara and eyeliner that stream down her cheeks like some sort of poison.

Lawrence feels like crying herself, almost had done when Ellie had broken down to them all in the club toilets. When she’d sobbed and her chest had risen and fallen so rapidly, illustrating the pieces of her heart that were shattering inside her ribcage as if Tia was blowing them up with dynamite. When A’whora had shushed her comfortingly and rubbed her back and Bimini had fed her tissue after tissue from the loo roll dispenser. When Ellie had whispered with all the hope and life gone out of her voice,

“I like her so much, and she doesn’t even know, and she’ll never see me like that.”

And Lawrence couldn’t say a word because she couldn’t trust herself to. Because she didn’t even know what to say. Really what could she say when Ellie had said it all already?

She recalls the way the bass from the songs that were playing out in the main room of the club had seemed so much like a sinister heartbeat; the soundtrack to the dread that Lawrence was feeling, that feeling of something slipping away.

Well, not something. Ellie.

Tayce hadn’t had much time for the whole situation. Lawrence knew she cared, of course, it would be harsh to say she didn’t, but she had been drunk and not particularly tactful. She’d hoisted Ellie to her feet, smudged away her tears from beneath her lashes with her thumbs and cupped her face as she gave a speech about how Ellie didn’t need anyone to make her feel happy, and how if Tia wasn’t going to notice her then there were a million other girls and guys out there that would, and how Ellie couldn’t let anyone spoil her night and Tayce wasn’t going to let that happen either. The song’s transition into Be Faithful had prompted Tayce to take charge, gripping Ellie’s hand and leading them all out of the toilets and onto the dancefloor with a battle cry about how this was her song, and how there was no way in hell she was missing the opportunity to get to dance to it with her best bitches.

Lawrence had known that Ellie hadn’t really felt better, though. The smile on her face was fake and she’d disappeared when the others were all too distracted bickering about whose round it was next. Lawrence had seen her disappear through the main doors and towards the exit- really the idea of Ellie being able to sneak off anywhere was laughable given her height- and so she’d dashed off without thinking, following her while a sinking feeling rose in her gut.

And now she’s here, a little way along the street outside the club, looking at Ellie and her broken heart and trying to figure out how to clean up the mess without a dustpan and brush.

So she awkwardly approaches her, forcing a smile as Ellie lifts her head to look at her through sapphires filled with tears. She decides to go with what’s always served her well though life and injects some fake cheer into her voice as she opens the joke.

“Did I ever tell you about the time the police chapped my door an’ told me my dogs were chasin’ people on bikes?” she opens limply, the joke already the verbal equivalent of a racehorse about to be made into glue. “My dogs didny even have bikes.”

Ellie gives an empty shell of a laugh in return. Lawrence supposes it’s the joke equivalent of “ask a stupid question, recieve a stupid answer”- tell a shite joke, recieve a shite laugh in reply. She’s rendered silent again, left to awkwardly scuff her foot over the glistening, frosty ground until Ellie gives a shuddery breath in.

“Y'should be back inside with the others,” she starts quietly, paws at her sniffly nose with the back of her hand, the tissue being long since rendered useless. “Having fun and getting drunk instead of listening to my shit.”

“I’m already drunk,” Lawrence shrugs at her. It’s half true. She feels too exposed as she follows it up with, “And it’s not fun if I know you’re upset.”

The tiny smile that appears on Ellie’s face and the way her eyes gain just a tiny bit of life makes coming out here in the freezing cold worth it.

“Ellie,” Lawrence gives a small sigh of sympathy, moves to stand in front of her and lets the crumpled tissue fall into Ellie’s lap before she takes her friend’s hands. She’s thrown before she can say anything. “Fucking Christ, your hands are baltic.”

“It’s December in Scotland. Everything’s baltic,” Ellie gives the tiniest roll of her eyes, but her expression is mostly one of affection, the gesture clearly appreciated. The way Lawrence’s heart is sparked by it is way too embarrassing and ridiculous, and she feels like a total idiot for being in this deep.

She covers it up with a sarcastic barb, a raised eyebrow used as a capital letter. “Do you want a pep talk or don’t you?”

“Please,” Ellie replies flatly.

Lawrence has about a second to collect her thoughts, try to arrange them into something coherent and supportive like a child making a model out of junk and PVA glue. She knows it’s going to come at the expense of her own heart but really, when has she ever put her own feelings first when Ellie’s been involved? She wishes they both had the same aspect to their friendship as A’whora and Tayce: that undercurrent of flirting and tension, the fact that A’whora’s huge crush on Tayce is the equivalent of a present wrapped in cellophane, and if they’ve not already done something about that whole aspect of their relationship then they surely will soon. But with Ellie it’s different. Lawrence is bound by the ties of the purely platonic nature of their friendship and, while she’d love nothing more than to break them, there’s still that part of her that’s content to stay in the chains they created together because even though they’re tight, they’re comfortable. They’re safe.

Ellie is Lawrence’s friend, so Lawrence puts her own feelings to one side and acts like it.

“I know it hurts,” Lawrence says, unable to meet her friend’s eyes as she strokes her thumb over her knuckles. “I know it feels like the worst heartache in the world, and it’s terrible. You feel like the pain’s not going to go away or…like your heart’s been smashed. It’s that way where…you’re too far gone as friends now, and it’s that feeling of not being able to change that path you’ve both gone down and…it’s too late, and you’re sat torturing yourself with the what-ifs and wondering if…y’know, maybe if you’d done something differently, maybe this, maybe that…”

Lawrence trails off to allow herself to gain back some composure, because all she’s succeeded in doing is making her own heart hurt with the truth. It’s the fact she’s telling Ellie everything: every feeling she goes through when it’s just the two of them bickering affectionately together, or the pair of them spooning when they’re hungover and emotional, or bonding over the Scottish Twitter references that the rest of their flatmates don’t get. It’s the way that with every moment they grow closer it only feels as if Ellie grows more and more distant.

“But you can’t hurt yourself like that, you know?” Lawrence says firmly, snapping her gaze up bravely to look Ellie in the eyes. “You can’t go through every day wondering why you’re not good enough, because the truth is that…you are. You fucking…are good enough, Ellie, you don’t need to change anything about yourself. Just keep being you, because…there’s someone out there who’ll appreciate it. And love you for it.”

Ellie’s gaze turns warm and soft, and she blinks a few tears away before looking into her lap, squeezing Lawrence’s hands. “Thank you, babe. That’s really nice.”

Lawrence can’t bask in the appreciation for long though because Ellie then narrows her eyes at her and gives her an inquisitive look.

“You know. You know what it feels like. How come you know?”

It would be so easy just to let something slip out; a confession, an admission, the secret she’s been holding in for two years now. The way she could bat it all away and cover it up with the amount of Jaeger she’s consumed over the past two hour period if it didn’t go down well on Ellie’s end. The thing is, though, that a drunk mind speaks sober thoughts, and it’s so cold in the street that she’s starting to sober up anyway. There wouldn’t really be anything to hide behind.

So she gives a snort of self-derision. “I know I might just seem like a joke book in a flesh suit, but I actually have a heart underneath it all.”

“Yeah,” Ellie agrees softly, her smile growing a little bigger. “You do.”

Lawrence’s heart soars into the sky like a bubble or a ridiculous novelty helium balloon. Ellie’s being sincere; she’s not layering Lawrence’s joke with another joke, a playing card on top of another. She’s just being honest. She sees Lawrence’s heart underneath all the sarcasm and the comedy and the way she can’t ever lay a single one of her feelings bare. Sometimes Lawrence dares to hope, dares to dream. Maybe everything she feels is reciprocated even a little bit. This- with Ellie’s gentle smile and the way the streetlamp is giving her a halo and the mist that’s wrapping around the two of them- is one of those moments.

Ellie sighs heavily, cuts through her thoughts. “It’s not even like Veronica’s someone I can justifiably hate, y’know? She has to be fucking…nice, and sweet, and pretty and lovely and Little Miss Perfect. Of course Tia’s mad for her.”

Pop.

“Well, you’re nice as well,” Lawrence frowns insistently. She finds herself rambling a little, clearly not as sober as she supposes the cold is rendering her. “And sweet and pretty and lovely. And perfect. Actually, not quite. C’mere.”

Lawrence beckons for Ellie to lean down, and as she does she fleetingly thinks about how easy it would be to kiss her. Too easy but too overwhelmingly difficult all at once.

Instead, Lawrence reaches her hands up to do what she’d intended, and fixes Ellie’s bow as if she’s adjusting a crown for a princess.

“There. Perfect now.”

Ellie smiles sadly at her as she straightens up, whispers a soft, resigned “thank you”. She sighs, looks plaintively up at the sky, the yellow of the streetlamp and the inky black of the vast space hanging above their heads. She pouts, deflated and defeated.

“What do I do now?”

Lawrence looks down the street, back in the direction of the flat. She could tell Ellie to give up and get over Tia. She could tell Ellie there’s someone that she knows- that they both know- that actually has a huge crush on her, she just needs to open her bloody eyes because all that fucking eyeliner’s clearly making her blind. She could tell Ellie that even the blind man’s fucking guide dog can see that Tia is hopelessly infatuated with the tiny blonde children’s storybook character she’s been making heart-eyes at for the past three months.

But Ellie’s already heartbroken enough and Lawrence is trying to make her feel better, and the antidote of heartbreak is hope. So she gives Ellie two options.

“Well. You could just carry on pinning your hopes on a girl who you’re not sure’s ever going to like you back, if you think you’ve got enough hope and optimism left in you. Or you could move on. Find the someone else out there who’ll love you for everything you are, because there is one. I know there is,” Lawrence says, omitting the fact that said person is her best friend, standing right in front of her. She smiles tightly before adding, “Your choice.”

When Lawrence realises she’s holding her breath waiting on her friend’s decision she feels even more of an idiot than she already does.

Ellie’s smile turns a little more genuine and she doesn’t even have to say anything to tell Lawrence what she’s chosen. “Well I’ve never been one to go down without a fight, you know? So…let’s just say Veronica better watch out. I’m gonna come up behind her and knock her kneecaps in to win my girl over. No matter how lovely she is.”

Lawrence shares Ellie’s giggle with a heart made of lead. She’ll keep pining, then. Keep on keeping on, keep on sharing moments with Ellie that make her day and ruin it all at once, the cause and the cure of all her mixed-up emotions. She’d rather keep her friendship with Ellie and have her heart crack just a little tiny bit every day than not have the girl in her life at all.

“Right, c’mon you. I’m freezing my not inconsiderable tits off out here,” Lawrence says decisively, if a little quietly. She wants nothing more than to drag herself back into the club and fill herself with artificial happiness, drink and listen to dance tracks about breakups with a too-fast BPM for the subject matter.

As Ellie takes her hand the split-second before she turns around, though, Lawrence’s priorities change. Her friend’s face is pleading and a little shy as she meets her eyes for a second and then snaps them to the ground.

“Can we just stay out here for a couple more minutes? Sorry,” Ellie explains. Lawrence can tell she feels silly. “I’m starting to feel better just being out here with you, so…I don’t want to go back in just yet.”

Like a complete fool, Lawrence just smiles and nods. “Of course we can.”

There’s a small silence in which Lawrence hugs herself tightly and rubs both her arms, because, well. She is freezing. She’s freezing and she wishes she had a cigarette. Ellie clearly isn’t as wrapped up in her own thoughts as she had been before because she notices her friend’s discomfort, gives a roll of her eyes which is affectionate rather than exasperated and pats the wall beside her.

“Hop up and I’ll warm you up,” she says. The jolt her words give Lawrence’s heart is what can only be described as pathetic, jump leads to a dying car.

Lawrence tries to join her on the wall, placing her palms on the bricks and making to hoist herself up. Her short stature, though, is rendering this difficult, and with each new unsuccessful attempt Ellie starts to laugh more and more until she’s doubled over, unable to breathe at Lawrence’s various attempts to sit beside her.

(Lawrence always loves making Ellie laugh whether she’s intended to or not, because it’s a way of guaranteeing that her attention is on her. The more she can make her laugh, the more of her attention she gets, so sometimes Lawrence will act up as if she’s on an episode of Live at the Apollo with an audience of one, in the world’s first romantically driven stand-up set.)

Ellie continues to laugh, finally holding a hand out for Lawrence to grab with a humoured “c’mere” to accompany it. As Lawrence grasps her hand and feels sparks fly through her bloodstream, she also clearly underestimates Ellie’s strength as she’s tugged suddenly forwards and they’re both flying onto the grass behind the wall. All at once the pair of them are reduced to bundles of giggles; legs scraping against the bricks and bodies flush against the wet grass, both of them breathless with their hands still entwined.

As their laughter dies down, there’s nothing left but their faces close together and the rise and fall of their chests and the small, dippy smile that’s still there on Ellie’s lips as she looks at her. The black of the sky and the green of the grass and the blue of her eyes, colour in absolutes. Simple, like Lawrence’s feelings are anything but.

It’s ethereal and it’s sad and Ellie will never know what it all means to her.

“I love you,” Lawrence says quietly. It’s too real and too painful and too raw to leave it like that, a plaster ripped off a cut too early. She elects to follow it up with, “Ya big bow-legged freak.”

Ellie giggles again, drunk and appeased. This is good. This is what Lawrence had wanted; to cheer her up and put that starry smile on her face on a night that’s meant to be all about her, meant to be special and magical and not the bad dream it had turned into. Lawrence has filled her head with drunk platitudes and compliments that’ve hurt too much to give. Lawrence has done the duties of a friend. She is her friend. And Ellie is happy. Lawrence can’t be sad when she’s happy.

Ellie lets go of her hand, pulls her in and hugs her. In an instant, the dewey grass seems instantly warmer. The moment is nicotine and Lawrence fills her lungs.

“I love you too, babe.”

She pretends she means it like she wants her to, and the bittersweet feeling it gives her fills her heart like tar.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #ellie diamond #lawrence chaney #ellie x lawrence #uk2 #angst #unrequited love #the birthday party #ortega #me and you together

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frostysfrenzy · 3 years

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Smallville chronicles part 62 (Chloe's chronicles pun very much intended. But no I've never seen them) warning, there's a lot going on. Fortune. You get me. Carry on

Oh boy its lionel

"Rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated" LIONEL YOU LITERALLY DIED 3 YEARS AGO YOU WERE SHOVED OFF A ROOF YOU FOOL

"What. No hug for your long lost daddy" I'll give E2 Lionel one thing. He amuses

The way Chloe is just laying on top of, admiring Oliver as he sleeps. I used to not like her all that much (way back in like season 1 and 2) now I want what she's got

Did I really just say that? Oh boy I've officially lost it

Also love that they've set up their bed in the middle of watchtower

Wait so uh, watchtower was bought by Jimmy. Lol this isn't weird at all

I'm going to stop because you know. I'm insane

I could take quotes from this Chloe Ollie bed scene but I'd be quoting the entire damn thing so I'll just leave it

Go mama K!!

Mama K??

Martha really just ripped off her sling

Chloe considers Martha as her mom!!

Oliver's non green arrow undercover outfit

Lois trying to make sure her muffins get noticed

"Lois. Don't worry. I've been impressed with you for years"

"That is so low rent and so rebel"

"Well what father doesnt want to make his son happy" he says after Lex tells him killing him was the greatest moment of his life

Chloe's outfit 😂

"That explains the smell of old spice and young ambition"

"I just need you to hack into a couple national news websites" "how many?" "All of them"

"You're a convicted felon" oh but so are you Lionel

"Well snow dad's been a little frosty lately right? Maybe we should figure out a different way to get that genie back in the bottle"

Mama K defending her son!!

"How can you be so good Clark?"

The way Clark whipped Lionel across the ground after pulling him from the mansion

The Luthor mansion burning to the ground was not something I expected to see ever

Lois and Chloe taking their stand against the vra!!!

"You have no idea how much you mean to people Clark Kent" my heart!!

"I saw me, I mean Clark Kent, disguised with glasses and a bad haircut"

Mama bear Tess!

Ok well.... that's peachy

"Look Clark. I want to plan this wedding as much as I wanna jump off of a building"

"Please tell me you didn't hop across the pond for a gallon of milk" "what makes you think I'd be in England?" Clark you're standing on Big Ben

"That better be some damn good milk Smallville" "Smallville. I must be in trouble"

"I think Oliver Queen would be an absolute fool to let someone like you get away" there is not a single Chlollie scene I don't enjoy

"I feel like I can't believe you did this to my jacket" I mean yeah it's terrible but it's somehow better

"You are going global now, which is awesome quite frankly"

"Why don't I just save you the trouble and superspeed out all on my own, ok. Whoosh"

"A phone call from your wife, Mr Jones"

*trying to keep it together* "hello dear"

"It's an adrenaline thing. See I'm little bit bigger than you"

Ok that whole Clark's telescopic visions with his eyes changing. Why are we just getting this now?

"You know, when I said I wanted to spoon earlier, this isn't really what I had in mind"

"This is definitely the most romantic of my recent kidnappings"

"Yeah he's right, we should probably introduce ourselves" *takes them all out**Chloe knocks dude out with a book*

That kiss after they kicked ass

"The last thing we want is a billionaire superhero ex fugitive kicking down the door of a sex club"

My ninja baby Oliver

"Don't leave goldilocks out in the cold"

"Should we just serve up charcoal too"

"It's my power I can call it whatever I want"

"Now stay put" "like hell" come on Clark you should've known there was no chance Ollie would

"You just have to act like you're re miserable" "that shouldn't be a problem"

"When they see this adorable blond, and you are, on this adorable blond's arm" I love Ollie calling himself an adorable blond. I mean, he's not wrong

NO OLLIE NOOOOO why did he have to get tagged

Ok I've arrived at what I've heard is one of the best eps of the series so I'm excited. But still scared for Ollie

I nearly pissed myself when Clark woke up with a lemur on him

He has a ring on 😂😂 Chloe?? I'm crying laughing already

*throws chip bag in closet for lemur*

What is Chloe's dress?

"Yeah well my memory etch a sketch is blank too"

Chloe just goes in public in this weird ass wedding dress

"Are those Emil's pants?"

"Holy matrimony that's my signature"

Clark runs into the wall

😂😂😂😂😂

"Well Emil always was an overachiever"

Emil and Tess duet 😂😂

"I'm looking for the girl I came in here with last night. She probably insulted you more than once"

"Clarkie, there's only one person I know that can make an armored car go adios in seconds" drunk Tess 😂

Oliver and Lois are just casually on a rail bed

Ollie's face hugging Lo 😂😂

His face when he comes to is even better

"Morning. Sorry" I'm still crying

Oliver's giggle when he sees his outfit

I may not get through anymore eps tonight because I'm taking 20 minutes per scene here

"Clark you're beeping"

The truck is in the barn 😂😂😂

"I hate to break it to you but the last thing I want to go around with for the rest of my life is a lie propagated by my ex boyfriend" "oh"

"There's something stuck in my bra" "that's not my territory anymore"

"I can't believe in my first drunken night out I lose Lois, commit a felony, and I land my friend in jail. I'm so reckless"

Why is Chloe still in that dress?

"My lucky lemur"

Huge siren flashbacks with Lois and Ollie tied up

"One, two, shuffle"

"I didn't exactly bring my green arrow gear to the bachelor party"

"Lois? Oliver?" The dance scene 😂😂

The casino fight this is beautiful

"The only one getting luckier tonight is yours truly" *knocks him out* who needs green arrow when you have plain old Oliver Queen

I just noticed Ollie lost the bra

"Way to go all in gorgeous" "back at ya hot stuff" I love Chlollie

"I found it in a puddle of champagne in the limo"

THE VIDEO 😂😂😂😂 I'm not going to bother quoting the whole thing

"A monkey?!" Chlo it's a lemur

"I hope you weren't gonna run off without your husband"

Now I have to endure some Ollie free eps and that's sad but here goes

"Tess. You didn't have to come all the way out here. There's caffeine givers in metropolis"

"he's outside in the car"

They made a child with Lex AND Clark's dna? This can only go one way

"I'm saving him from an encore performance of daddy dearest"

"Your son is dead Lionel" have I ever mentioned I love Tess?

"Mutation's a bitch"

"Are you like my dad?" "I prefer brother"

"Are you trying to tell me that Conner is the genetic lovechild of Clark Kent and Lex Luthor?" I hate that I laughed at that sentence

"But how is Lex able to shake up a human krypto cocktail without you realizing it?"

"Hold on chicken little"

Lois is pretty. That is all

Clark just standing there in a burnt shirt

It's like Kara all over again

"I was just stopping by to see how things are going but it looks like I should've brought marshmallows"

Well oops the child found out

Just when I was starting to like this kid

Oh good lord the kid is on red k this'll be fun

"Believe me I'll trade a little motion sickness for a bullet in the bonnet any day"

Lol Connor ok. This kid just grabbed a jacket and a necklace for Lois for

*Lois tosses stolen necklace back to police* "sorry"

"You destroyed Lex with your secrets and lies" Bull. Shit.

That fur coat is a look Lo

"I'll speed you away to Paris"

"It may bring out his inner angst a little but it doesn't turn him into this"

Clark busting the ring

Damnit Lionel

How does everyone but Clark bust kryptonite with their heat vision

Ok I did not miss the classical music in every Lionel scene

"You'll always be a Luthor" oh but she won't

"I hope it's not too presumptuous but I figured you needed a last name"

"I'm sure that when we have kids of our own, you will be an amazing father" damn right he will

#smallville #my smallville bs #enter at your own risk

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