#him on a plain white shirt I AM ASCENDING

[hooned]

oh he makes me weak 🥹

#enhypen #enhypenet #*jelly's #sunoo #kim sunoo #what is it with the blinking why is the lighting inconsistent belift pls oh my god #but look at him #look at my nunu oh he's so handsome #him on a plain white shirt I AM ASCENDING

[notzawzark]

I really enjoyed your story a part two would be lovely but do not push yourself and have a lovely day

GHOST (mw2) X MALE READER (platonic) PT2

woooooo yeah baby, thats what ive been wait for, thats what ive been taking about, wwoooooo, another installment of my poorly planned fanfic

as perusual: sorry for any typos, and do not expect some grandiose writting, i am not that smart

CW/TW's: toture, gore, vomit, if i should add more just tell me and i will

I throw on a shirt. A button up. Not one I chose myself, but its not like I hate it. Its ugly but in a charming way. I put on leather boots, keeping the pants I wore to sleep on. Its not my best outfit, but considering how little sleep I got last night, I don’t anyone will care. I sure as hell don’t. 

I leave my room, entering into a hall. The cold concrete  below me tapping under my feet. I stop in front of ghosts room. I hear talking on the other side of the heavy metal door. Faint, but still there. The guards posted in front of the door ask me if I want in. I tell them no. I want to get somethings first. I wonder the halls. Looking for the stairs up. The building were currently holed up in (and have been for awhile) is some old abandoned hospital. When we first set up here, it was trashed. To this day  It still doesn’t look very homely, but its better then it was.

Ive been stashed away in the basement, Also where the interrogation room is set up. i find the stairs, ascending up to floor level. I make my way to the current medical ward. there are so many people. You wouldn’t expect this place to be so packed, but it almost always is. Most of the people here are good. Civilians. Simply people in need of doctors, but without the money to get any. Cant say the same for the people stationed in the basement.

“hey.” I try and get the attention of one of the makeshift medical staff. His name is Chester im pretty sure. “shit-“ he turns around, startled. he was tending to some random sick person. Cant tell why their sick though. “(reader)!” he sounds pleasantly surprised. Like meeting an old friend unexpectedly. Weve only really ever talked a few times. “I need bandages.” I tell him. He looks around, a but confused, “uhm…” he takes a second “do you mind if I ask why? Or is that.. uh.. can I ask why?” he lowers his voice into a whisper for the last bit, leaning in.

All the ‘doctors’ know who theyre working for. The same man im working for. But that’s about all they get to know. We bring them medical supplies so that they can help their towns people. in return, they fix up anyone we bring to them, no questions asked. It’s a covert deal, and they arent aloud to talk about us. If they did, my boss would probably anonymously tell the police what they have set up here. Only one of the doctors has a medical license.

“the bandages arent for me” he understands that he isnt gonna get much more then that, nodding and leading me away from his current patient. He takes me to a closet “bandages and stuff are in here,” he opens it, “can I ask what type of wound your bandaging?” he asks, leading me in.

“I don’t know.” It sounds like a copout, but I genuinely have no idea. It could be anything. Cuts, burns, chopped off limbs. “oh wow.” He looks worriedly, searching through the random supplies. He hands me a roll of white bandages, “here” and then he goes back to looking around. “what are you looking for?” I peek over his shoulder. “well your probably gonna need more then just the plain bandages, even if we don’t know what you gonna have to fix up.” he hands me some bandage tape. “thank you” I tell him.

we part ways, and I start back to the basement. Stopping on my way to ghosts new room to get a bucket of water, two rags, and a towel.

I stop in front of the door, there isnt any talking now, nodding to the two guards. They go to open the door, but its prematurely opened by someone else. Im greeted by a man covered in someone else's blood. The man with the cart of torture supplies. The butcher. “hi-“ my voice cuts off. “hello.” He looks down at the assortment of things Chester handed me. He grunts, pushing past me, dragging his cart behind him. Its bloody. Very bloody. there are a few loose teeth on it that werent before, and it leaves a trail of blood behind him as he leaves.

I enter the room, hastily met with the smell of blood and vomit. I turn my face, it smells fucking awful. The door is shut behind me. The table has been moved off to the side, and ghost to the middle of the room. Hes covered in his own blood. “hey..” I let out. I try not to let my concern waver my voice. Ghost groans, and then ends up in a coughing fit. His mask is off, but his head is dropped down, facing the floor, blood soaked in his hair. I go over to the table, dropping my supplies down, and picking up his skull mask. “would you like your mask back?” I ask, turning to him. He just coughs more. Im pretty sure he coughed up blood.

I get up closer to him, placing down my bucket of water, his breathing hastens, he turns his face away. It takes a moment for it to click, “oh shit-“ I look at the rag in my hand, “im not gonna water board you bro, I swear.” I panic out, trying to make him less weary of me. 

It doesn’t work much, and he tenses everytime I move. Pulling up my sleeves, I dip the rag in water, and then start to clean out his wounds. There are different kinds. Some deep gashes, some circular holes in his skin, others bruises so blue youd think it hurt his bones. I don’t really get a good look at his face, even while I try and get blood off of it. he moves his face away everytime I try to touch it. its Understandable, but it makes things much more difficult. 

I give up on trying to clean his face, and just put his mask back on him. He immediately seems more comfortable, still incredibly tense, but less so then before. I continue to clean off all the blood on him. Its tiring. Eventually its done though. I wrap the towel around him, covering him and helping him dry all in one. I get up, and grab the bandages, and tape. i get back to him, placing both on the ground. I open the package for the bandages. 

I cover up most of the big gashes, and even a few of the smaller ones. Im covered in dried up blood now. I clean up around his chair too. Just getting blood up off the floor. Theirs vomit beside him. I begrudgingly clean that up too. I throw the second rag into the bucket. Taking a deep breath ones ive left the floor.

“thanks” ghosts voice sounds hoarse and it cuts out at the end. I go sit up in the table off to the side. “whens the last time you slept” I ask him the first real question of the day. Its quiet for a few minutes until he responds, “four days.” I mouth a ‘wow’ under my breath. I hold my breathing in thought, puffing out once I get to my conclusion. “ill let you sleep the entire time im here.. which should be..” I trail off thinking and doing math in my head, “two hours I believe, if you tell me what you guys know.”

He doesn’t respond. “what about a hint.” I smile at him. “no” his voice sounds more firm. The smile doesn’t fade. “fine, then you wont sleep for another day.” I hop off the table, and get onto the chair that was discarded next to it. Theres still paper and pencils, and so I start drawing. I draw him again. Its quiet in the room for nearly 20 minutes, I look up from my drawing every now and then to make sure he isnt asleep.

Hes falls asleep. I throw a balled up piece of paper at him. He startles up, looking around frantically to assess the situation. He drops his head back once he realizes it was just me. “if you had given me that hint I would have let you stay asleep” I taunt him. “fuck off” he blurts out. Hes getting comfortable, that hes just tired enough to not give a shit.

It gets quiet again.

“you know what-“ I look over to him, getting out of my seat and sitting on the table again. “if you tell me about your family ill let you sleep..” I pause, “that or your name” he looks me dead in the eyes, then up and down. Silence. “how’d you know about my brother?” he asks. A surprise for sure. “we made a little file on you, figuring out everything we could before we ambushed you. It was in that file… one of the few things about you in that file, and not just about ghost.”

“I am ghost.”

“you are a ghost.. you know how hard it was to find that out about your brother? That you even had a brother?”

“that’s the point.” He says in between coughs

I take a deep breath in and out. “I guess it is.” I say looking off.

A silence settles again. For about five minutes. He stares at me for three of them before looking away. “my brothers name was tommy.” I snap my head towards him. I didn’t actually expect him to tell me about his family. “is that so.” I inquire more. “he had a kid.” He continues. “and where is that kid now?” ghost doesn’t answer.

“and what about your dad?” he doesn’t respond, just like last time. I sigh. i want more, but technically he followed the rules I had. “you can sleep.” I jump off of the table, and get back to my drawing. Ghost gets as comfortable in his seat as he possibly can. Wasting no time to getting to sleep.

An hour and a half pass by. Ive filled the entire page with drawings. Ghost is sound asleep- the door starts to open. Shit. “HEY-“ I greet the person at the door loud enough to wake ghost up. “your back early,” I turn to the door. And ghost hurriedly wakes up. “(reader).” ‘The butcher’ greets me back, waving one of his hands stiffly at me. 

“uh- can we have a few more minutes?” I rush out as the large man starts hauling in his cart into the room. He stops in his tracks. Slowly turning to look at me. “your time is up.” fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck “yeah but… i-I I was- I was starting to get somewhere with my… interrogation.”

“where?”

“he was starting to talk about his- uh his family and-“

“the boss doesn’t want to hear about his family.” He cuts me off

I look to ghost, and then to the man in front of me. “yes but-“

“why are you wasting my time (reader)?”

He cuts me off again.

I mumble and apology. I really shouldn’t have fucking done that. Shit, all cause I wanted to show ghost my stupid drawing.

He leaves his cart next to ghost, who has started hyperventilating. “you gave him bandaids.” He points out. “I didn't want him to bleed out.” I  had already thought of an excuse. “I didn’t say you could give him bandaids.”

“yeah but he was probably gonna die”

“I didn’t say you could give him bandaids.” He turns to me. “yeah and the boss didn’t say you could kill him,” I retort.

He picks up a pair of pliers, holding them so tight his knuckles turn white. Hes threatening me. Fuck. “im sorry, I just didn’t want valuable intel to die.” I soften my voice, trying to de-escalate the situation. He turns back to ghost. I start to leave. “your not aloud to leave.” He snaps his pliers a few times to emphasize.

“come on man-“ I turn around towards him, my voice breaking. I don’t want to be here. He hums a bit, snapping his pliers a few more times. He doesn’t respond. “ill get you those drugs you wanted.” He stops humming, and lets the air fill with silence. “alright, you can leave.”

I practically run out of there. I feel bad. I feel bad for ghost. I feel bad about having to steal from the med ward. Shit. I really wanted to show him my drawing. I bet he would have told me it was cool. I get to the showers upstairs, and I wash all of his blood off of me. Then I go to my room. I put the drawing next to the first one. Hopping onto my bed.

If I get caught stealing ill be as good as dead.

hiiiiiiiii i see you made it to the end again, blushes

if everything goes to plan there should be at least five chapters of this fic when im done

#mw2 fanfic #call of duty mw2 #male reader #x reader #platonic reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #mw2 #reader fanfiction #fanfic #platonic fanfiction

[theskinnyyellowdog]

Alonso to Ferdinand — W.H. Auden

Dear Son, when the warm multitudes cry, Ascend your throne majestically, But keep in mind the waters where fish See sceptres descending with no wish To touch them; sit regal and erect, But imagine sands where a crown Has the status of a broken-down Sofa or mutilated statue: Remember as bells and cannon boom The cold deep that does not envy you, The sunburnt superficial kingdom Where a king is an object. Expect no help from others, for who Talk sense to princes or refer to The scorpion in official speeches As they unveil some granite Progress Leading a child and holding a bunch Of lilies? In their Royal Zoos the Shark and the octopus are tactfully Omitted; synchronized clocks march on Within their powers; without, remain The ocean flats where no subscription Concerts are given, the desert plain Where there is nothing for lunch.

Only your darkness can tell you what A prince's ornate mirror dare not, Which you should fear more-- the sea in which A tyrant sinks entangled in rich Robes while a mistress turns a white back Upon his splutter, or the desert Where an Emperor stands in his shirt While his diary is read by sneering Beggars, and far off he notices A lean horror flapping and hopping Towards him with inhuman swiftness: Learn from your dreams what you lack, For as your fears are, so you must hope. The Way of Justice is a tightrope Where no prince is safe for one instant Unless he trust his embarrassment, As in his left ear the siren sings Meltingly of water and a night Where all flesh had peace, and on his right The efreet offers a brilliant void Where his mind could be perfectly clear And all his limitations destroyed: Many young princes soon disappear To join all the unjust kings.

So if you prosper, suspect those bright Mornings when you whistle with a light Heart. You are loved; you have never seen The harbour so still, the park so green, So many well-fed pigeons upon Cupolas and triumphal arches, So many stags and slender ladies Beside the canals. Remember when Your climate seems a permanent home For marvelous creatures and strange men, What griefs and convulsions startled Rome, Ecbatana, Babylon. How narrow the space, how slight the chance For civil pattern and importance Between the watery vagueness and The triviality of the sand, How soon the lively trip is over From loose craving to sharp aversion, Aimless jelly to paralyzed bone; At the end of each successful day Remember that the fire and the ice Are never more than one step away From the temperate city: it is But a moment to either.

But should you fail to keep your kingdom And, like your father before you, come Where thought accuses and feeling mocks, Believe your pain; praise the scorching rocks For their desiccation of your lust, Thank the bitter treatment of the tide For its dissolution of your pride, That the whirlwind may arrange your will And the deluge release it to find The spring in the desert, the fruitful Island in the sea, where flesh and mind Are delivered from mistrust. Blue the sky beyond her humming sail As I sit today by our ship's rail Watching exuberant porpoises Escort us homeward and writing this For you to open when I am gone: Read it, Ferdinand, with the blessing Of Alonso, your father, once King Of Naples, now ready to welcome Death, but rejoicing in a new love, A new peace, having heard the solemn Music strike and seen the statue move To forgive our illusion.

[legiomiam]

FIND THE WORD Tagged by @winglesswriter my words are: snarl, grunt, growl, paw, beast, pet (which is already part of a snippet I used) HERE’S MORE TDADP FIRST DRAFT

I tag: @juls-writes @samplewriting @@writertyto @happystarfishnightmare

And your words are: kind, pain, chair, sun

☙❦❧ SNARL

Visions of snow white butterflies in the winter came to her with a snow dusted forest, a map that would have locations tacked out, places her father had been and then an area drawn out with the engraving of a knife that she had witnessed her mother do the only other time she had watched her parents fight. It was fresh in her mind, a hissing snarling creature that became of her mother at a thought Rashka couldn’t quite make out from her father, brain too thick with the fog of sleep. But she tried, tried to pretend to be asleep, frightened at what would happen if she was made to leave the room. Her mother had dutifully freed the dagger from her husband’s waist and brandished it, slicing across his shirt in a fury for ancient words and wild eyes. Ivette had turned to the map engraved on the west most wall and dug deep outlining her way through marked rivers and trees, forests that were beyond that Rashka would never get to see. A plain of land that was forbidden. Her mother had whispered one word once she was done with that line, knife point pressed to Seung’s jugular, scared that harm would come of it their flesh and blood and found the strength to sit up, ready to call like to like. Instead her father had lovingly knocked the blade away and cupped her mother’s face, murmuring promises and placing kisses.

☙❦❧ GRUNT

“And I am no longer sleeping.” He sighed, leaning over on the arm he lowered to the dirt. “At least tell me that we’ll get to eat.” Their eyes met. It was strange to watch, Brahm thought, how focused they seemed on each other before it seemed to drop a few degrees. “Fine no food. Fucking Vampyres, you know Demigods do get hungry, you heathen. We are part human, I like eggs like any normal fucking person.” Demigod. Brahm was on high alert, how could he not tell? “If you’re not used to being around unfamiliar beings then it’s hard to pinpoint them. Since I spent a couple of centuries—” the boots are being pulled on as there’s a pregnant pause “—around some other halflings, or whatever you all call your mixed breeds to make you feel better about yourselves in your self imposed self righteousness. Do not give me that look, your people are the worst of them all.” A finger was pointed at Rashka from the shirtless dark haired stranger she was with. Something about that rubbed him wrong, how casual they were. She wasn’t his, Brahm had to keep telling himself over as a shirt was pulled on. It was only when the man grunted did the bandage register his attention. “Shouldn’t you be healing or unharmable?” Naveen was suspicious, good.

☙❦❧ GROWL

The manor was still when she opened the front door, several lights were on and normally a very busy foyer was silent. Not thinking about the time she realized that she had missed lunch and her stomach growled as she ascended the stairs. Dinner would be soon, wanting to tell Synthian about the family she ran into in town, that Klaas was becoming more lenient with the beings under his rule. A small creeping feeling halted her with her grip on the handle to her door, they probably weren’t here with his willingness. Instead of Synthian the target of her letter changed to her mother, maybe she could convince the family to pack up and head to her home land for safety. Sitting at the little desk in her room she took pen to paper, a few drops of ink falling from the little pot to the parchment.

☙❦❧ PAW

“Speak, I can hear your mind chasing field mice from over here.” He followed her along the worn dirt path into town where shops were opening up for the day, the sun having lost the pink glow of daybreak with their nonchalant gait. “She attacked you last night. Was she feeding on the merchant is that how he was killed? She was very quiet about what happened.” Chandra stopped to stare at a fat tabby in a shop window, it’s paws outstretched as it napped. “The wound looks like it’s healing if not already healed now. Well that one does, the other—” “Oh that wasn’t her,” he rubbed the bite higher on his neck from the giggling girl he had followed into her bathing room after Rashka had ran off, much to his best friend’s quiet annoyance. She had little fangs that were too much like that tabby cat’s and she used them well against him, until she had started snoring into the area she had once bitten and leaving Brahm unsatisfied. Not that he would have been anyways, defiant brown eyes stayed clear in his mind’s eye. “She did do this one, but no she wasn’t feeding on him, I should’ve let her from her injuries.” “So instead you let her feed off you?”

☙❦❧ BEAST

“To humans, Vampyres don’t exist. A fairytale that was told to scare them into behaving.” “What’s in the—” a gasp left her. “What’s in the northern territories then?” “Grievers, monsters, dragons, beasts, and demons that would rip them limb from limb, Rashka. You are included in that, a demoness that would destroy those in her path. That merchant saw a pretty face but knew none of the warnings that came with it. What dangers that beauty held.” “Pretty face and wide hips.” She scoffed before snapping her head towards the man next to her. That smirk was back as he shrugged. “Vampyres are an otherworldly beauty; it would have made his neighbors jealous and resort to manslaughter to have you. That’s got to be some consolation to you—” “I don’t want to be wanted because I have a face and hips that men would kill for—” “And tits and an ass worth grabbing. Oh come on, they’re a handful, be proud.” A laugh burst from him as she struck his shoulder. “I’m sure your politeness will also be a bonus.” “He mentioned selling me,” Rashka smiled despite the grimness of her words. Smiled for before her, just coming into view, were a few lights of the village that Chandra and Naveen had to have been waiting for them. “Well he said that Chandra would have sold for a lovely price, that a trader would pay for her hide.” “I’m not upset that you slew him then,” the tone was gruff, hard and sharp. “While Fae have lived among humans peacefully, we— it doesn’t matter.” You owe her nothing, she was a quick bedding in the grass. You answered her question about Vampyres the best that she would be able to understand.

#tag game #this dark and divine place #godly ruins

[cower-before-power]

Chocolate Chip Pancakes: Part 1

Summary: Ever since circumstances have placed Nanami Kento as your temporary roommate, your feelings for him have grown all the stronger. Will a misunderstanding cause you to finally admit your love? Or will it only drive the man of your dreams away?

Pairing: Nanami Kento x F! Reader, Gojo Satoru x F! Reader (FWB), Gojo Satoru x ? (it’s a surprise I guess)

TW: AND THEY WERE ROOMATES, Swearing, mentioned nudity, implied sexual content, mentions of birth control, alcohol, friends with benefits situation (no love triangle I promise!), some angst, pining, Gojo being a little shit 

Link to A03 here

PART 2 NOW UP HERE

PART 3 NOW UP HERE

A/N: Welcome to my first piece for my Jujutsu husband! Can’t believe it’s taken me so long to write anything for him, I’ve had this idea for a while now. There will be a Part 2, so please let me know if you would like a tag for it. Thank you for reading, and please enjoy, my sweet potatoes!

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If there was a place between Heaven and Hell, you were in it.

The sight of broad shoulders straining the fabric of his plain white t-shirt, biceps flexing with each whip of the whisk through the bowl, handsome brow furrowed in concentration- absolutely heavenly. 

The fact that all you could do was ogle longingly- utter hell.

“I think you’ve whisked the batter enough,” you say, taking a sip of the perfectly prepared coffee in front of you. It had been waiting for you, piping hot, as soon as you’d emerged from your morning bath. Same as it had been for the last four months.

For that’s how long you’ve been stuck in the purgatory that is living with Nanami Kento.

It must be purgatory, you think, for isn’t that where you atone for your sins? An age of penance before ascending to the bliss beyond? You’ve certainly made your share of mistakes; maybe this is life making you pay for them. To have the object of your desires within reach, but beyond your grasp. To be so domestic, almost couple-like, but without the actual couple. To see him shirtless on his way to the bathroom, all warm and rumpled and sleepy, and not being able to grab him and kiss him stupid.

Pure fucking torture.

“I know you like your pancakes extra fluffy,” he says, continuing to whisk the batter within an inch of its life. Your heart flutters in your chest, he is so attentive to every little detail. 

“You just got home last night, you shouldn’t be making me breakfast,” you take another sip of coffee. “You must be exhausted.”

He finally gives the poor batter a rest, setting the bowl down so he can put in your favourite addition- a heaping amount of chocolate chips.

“I’m fine,” he replies shortly, but the tiredness in his voice betrays him. “Besides, I always make you breakfast.”

It’s true. Ever since he’s been staying with you, you had woken up to not only coffee, but a full breakfast on the table (many times your favourite sweet pancakes). You’d tried to protest at first, after all he was the guest in your home, but he’d been unrelenting. Consider it a thank you, he’d said, a thank you for keeping him out of a hotel for such a long period of time.

“I think you’ve thanked me enough,” you rest your hand on your chin, once again admiring the flex of his arms as he ladles batter into the frying pan. “Not that I’m complaining. You are way better cook than I am.”

He huffs a soft half-chuckle. “It’s true, but my cooking is quite ordinary and forgettable. Yours at least is memorable, if nothing else.”

“Rude,” you pout, but you’re fighting a smile. “I’ve half a mind to kick you to the curb, sir.”

He smirks, and your heart thumps wildly at the sight. How is he so damn handsome when he does that?? “You wouldn’t. You’d miss the pancakes.”

“It’s true,” you sigh. “I’ll definitely miss them when you leave. Have you heard from your landlord recently? How’s the renovations coming?”

You have a massive burst pipe to thank for your current situation. Nanami had showed up to Jujutsu Tech one morning, harrumphing about how a pipe had literally exploded and flooded his entire apartment with water. He’d been away on a mission at the time, so the mess hadn’t been noticed until the apartment below him had water literally dripping down their walls. It had done considerable damage, and he was forced to leave until repairs and renovations could be done.

He’d resigned himself to living in a hotel, but your love-addled heart had leapt into your mouth before you could stop it and blurted out that he could just save money and stay with you. He’d seemed rather taken aback, but decided it was better than the alternative. You had known each other for a long time, he was a friend and you really did want to help him out. But there was a large part of you that really wanted him near, to have him in your space like he belonged there.

You’d thought you could handle it, but you had slowly been unravelling at the seams. There was only so much soft and domestic Nanami you could take. If he didn’t leave soon, you were going to do something stupid like climb over the kitchen table and kiss him senseless.

“He says he doesn’t know yet,” Nanami plates your pancakes. “I’ll have to continue to intrude on your kindness for a little while longer, I’m afraid.”

“It’s not a bother, you’re a friend and colleague, you’re welcome as long as you need to stay,” you wave your hand dismissively, mouth souring at the words leaving it. The only reason you haven’t attempted to tell the blonde haired sorcerer your feelings yet was because of that one word- colleague. 

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop on his conversation with Gojo, but you had dropped your papers in the hallway right outside of his office and couldn’t help but hear. 

“Come on, Nanami! Don’t be a stick in the mud!”

“I am not a stick in the mud, I’m just being practical.”

“Isn’t that the same thing??”

“I told you already, I don’t date colleagues. I do not mix work with pleasure. Now can we get back to the matter at hand?”

You shake you head, dislodging the past out of it. It did you no good to think on how your heart had sunk into your boots, how you had come to realize your feelings could never see the light of day. Even though you knew he would be kind about it, you did not want to face rejection. Better to just admire him from afar. Perhaps in time your feelings would just fade.

You sigh to yourself as you drown your pancakes in syrup. Your feelings had definitely not faded, and having him live with you had only made to strengthen them. Not only was he handsome, strong, brave- all the picture perfect fairy tale shit- but he was considerate (he always let you have the hot water before him), helpful (he did more than his fair share of cooking and cleaning), handy (he built you a plant stand from scratch one weekend, claiming boredom) and just plain....incredible. He was your perfect man, the one you dream of building a happy life with. 

So close, but just out of reach.

“I think that’s more than enough,” Nanami deftly plucks the bottle from your hand, ignoring your whine of protest. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

“Who are you, my mother?” You stick your tongue out at him, making to grab for the bottle. He’s too quick for you thought, snatching his hand out of your reach lightening fast. “Come on, Nanamin, give it here!”

“Don’t call me that,” he places the bottle next to his plate, blocking it from your reach with his own hot cup of tea. 

“You let Idatori call you that, and I’ve known you longer,” you make another attempt, trying to get around his mug, but he bats you away as if your hand is an obnoxious fly. You try to ignore the tingle from his skin briefly touching yours. If even the slightest brush feels like grabbing an electrical fence, you’re not sure you could survive anything longer (but oh, do you ever want to know).

“Itadori is a child, and so he may use childish nicknames,” he replies. “As I have said many times.”

“But-”

“Stop being jealous of a schoolboy and eat your pancakes.”

“I’m not jealous,” you mutter, shooting the syrup bottle one last longing glance. In reply, Nanami opens his paper and blocks it and his stupidly pretty face from view. You harrumph. If there’s two things you have not enjoyed about your roommate, it’s his attempts to monitor your sugar consumption, and his habit of hiding his chiseled features behind the financial section.

“Honestly, you are as bad as that blindfolded idiot when it comes to sugar,” Nanami’s voice drips with its usual disdain when speaking of his senior. “The two of you are like a pair of children.”

“Hmmph, maybe I should be eating breakfast with him then, and not Mr. Stick-Up-His- Ass,” you retort, giving up on your mission and instead deciding to just eat your meal. Satoru wouldn’t regulate my sugar intake, you huff internally, no, he’d insist we need a second bottle. He’s probably enjoying his own super sweet breakfast right now without any constraints....

You stop with a piece of pancake halfway to your mouth, eyes widening almost comically as his name in your thoughts jolts you to remember.

“Shit!” you cry without thinking, dropping your utensils with a clang. Nanami puts down his paper, a frown etched on his face.

“Something wrong? Are they still too hot? I’ve told you multiple time to check your food before-”

“It’s not the pancakes,” you jump to your feet, cursing yourself. “I uh....I...forgot to take my birth control! Be right back!”

You rush out of the room before he can respond, tearing down the hallway to your bedroom. Shit, how could you have forgotten? In your excitement that Nanami was home early from his mission, the events from last night had completely slipped your mind. 

“Satoru!” you hiss as you barge into your room. “Satoru, wake up!”

The white haired man gives a soft grunt, rolling over to bury his face in your pillow. 

“Hnggggh....”

“Wake up and get out of my bed,” you stomp over to him, bending your face down right to his. “Satoru!”

He jumps slightly, groaning as he shifts his head to crack one brilliant blue eye at you. “Hmmm?”

“I said, get out of my bed!” you grab the covers and attempt to pull them off, but he doesn’t let you. 

“Where’s the fire, sweets?” he yawns, sleepy grin forming on his face as he watches your pathetic attempts to yank the blankets away from him. “You’re not usually this eager to get rid of me.”

“Nanami came home early,” you give up on the covers and instead rush around the room, collecting his discarded clothes. “He doesn’t know about our....arrangement and I’d really not rather have him find out. So get dressed and warp your ass out of here!”

You toss the clothes at him, but they just bounce of his Infinity and flop sadly on the bed beside him. You growl, but he just laughs as he props himself up on his elbows.

“Why? You’re a grownup, no need to be ashamed of your needs.”

“I’m not ashamed,” you cross your arms, glaring at him as he arches his back and stretches lazily. He’s pretty first thing in the morning, you can’t deny it, but every time you wake to him you wish with all your heart it was the man in your kitchen. To see warm brown eyes instead of brilliant blue, to feel a broader body pressed against your own, to feel a thinner set of lips kiss you good morning.

 “I just don’t care for him to know,” you continue. “It’s private, I don’t need it being broadcast to anyone that we occasionally fuck.”

Truth is, you’re a little afraid of what Nanami would say if he found out. His dislike for the Strongest is well known, and you wonder if his view of you would diminish if he knew you were tumbling into bed with him. Would he respect you less? Would he judge you for your choice? It’s not like you intended to start this...thing with Gojo. But between relationships you found yourself getting bored and lonely. When you’d complained to your friend, he’d put the offer on the table: If one of you wanted some easy late night “company”, the other would provide. You hadn’t thought it would be that smooth (you’d seen a lot of movies that said otherwise), but to your surprise it was. Gojo Satoru was still your goofy annoying friend, he just sometimes gave you pretty incredible orgasms. Simple. Useful. Convenient. 

Right now a huge fucking pain in the ass.

It was something that was very off and on, and really more off, in truth. You hadn’t seen each other in that way since Nanami moved in, but your frustration and desire had finally begun to boil over and you found yourself having to let it out somewhere. Hence, your current situation.

“If I was having sex with me, I’d be bragging about it constantly,” he winks at you, saucy grin spread across his face. “I am a stellar fuck.”

“Yeah, yeah, you and your dick are a gift,” you roll your eyes. “Now hurry up and leave. My pancakes are getting cold and soggy out there.”

“Oya oya, so bossy,” he laughs, but he grabs his clothes and climbs out of your bed. “Keep your panties on, sweets. I’ll make myself scarce before your boyfriend notices.” 

“If only,” you sigh, wondering if Nanami has noticed you’re taking longer than you should to swallow a tiny pill. You hope he won’t come looking for you.

“Still don’t know why you don’t tell him,” Gojo pulls on his blindfold, fiddling and fussing until it makes his hair sit just the way he likes. Vain bastard.

“Yes you do,” you frown. “We’ve been over this like a million times, Satoru. He’d just reject me.”

“Or so you think,” he says, now slipping on his underwear.

“We are not having this argument again. Unless you explicitly heard from him-”

“You know he’d never tell me anything like that!”

“Then I don’t want to have this fucking conversation-”

“Gojo? What are you doing here?”

His voice cuts through the air, and time seems to stop as you freeze, mouth hanging open with your sentence left unfinished. 

You slowly turn around to face the doorway, body trembling as you find your closed door now standing open. Nanami is staring at the scene before him, eyes wide. You’ve never seen such a look of surprise on his face.

Your heart drops into your feet. The cat is out of the bag now. There’s no way you’ll be able to explain a mostly naked Gojo in your room without telling him the truth.

“Oya, Nanami, haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” Gojo grins cheekily at the shocked sorcerer. “We could have been in the middle of fucking, you know!”

You shoot the white haired man a sharp glare, but he just winks at you. Nanami’s mouth opens and closes. His eyes are darting between you and Gojo, and with a slowly diminishing spirit, you watch a myriad of emotions flitting across his usually stoic face.

Surprise. Disdain. Anger. Disappointment.

Each one sends a shard of ice right into your heart. You knew he’d react this way. You knew you would lose standing in his eyes. If there was any chance, any small minute thread of hope that he could possibly return your feelings, it was now severed.

Something almost sad is the last thing you see in his oddly vulnerable face, before the cool mask slips back over.

“I’m sorry, I should have knocked first,” he says, and you wince at the hollowness of his voice. “I came to check on you as you were taking so long, and I heard a male in here....”

“Just leaving after a whirlwind night of passion!” If looks could kill, Gojo would be dead a million times over. 

“I did not know you two were....together,” Nanami forces the last word out, as if it’s personally offended him. You want to disappear, to hide from the intensity of his eyes. You’ve never seen them like this before, seemingly vacant but with something burning hotly far down in their depths. You can’t look at them; your own gaze drops to your feet. 

“We,” you croak, finding your mouth dry and your tongue stuck. “We, I mean, last night, that is to say-”

“Well, I’m all ready to leave now,” Gojo, now fully dressed, interrupts your pitiful attempts at forming a coherent thought. He bounds over to you and presses a kiss to your cheek. You want to push him off, but you can’t seem unclench your fists from your sides. “See you later, sweets! Magnificent performance as always, thanks for the good time.”

And with a final wink, the bastard is gone.

You shift your weight awkwardly, unable to raise your eyes. The air is thick with tension. It almost feels as if you’ve stumbled into a curse’s domain; suffocating and teetering on the edge of unbridled disaster.

“Look, Nanami, Gojo and I, we aren’t-“

“I always figured it would be him,” Nanami says dully, and you swear his words are tinged with bitterness. “Well, I hope he makes you happy. You deserve that.”

That makes you finally look up, your brow scrunched in confusion. He clearly thinks you and Gojo are more than you actually are, but why does he sound so forlorn about it? 

“Wait, why are you talking like-”

“Your pancakes will be ruined by now,” he speaks over you, as if the sound of your voice is the last thing he wants to hear. “You’ll have to make yourself something else. Try not to burn down the kitchen.” 

Words that would once have been said with a playful tease now fall flat at your feet. Your heartrate slowly begins to accelerate, and your traitorous brain begins to whisper the impossible. Could it be Nanami isn’t just disappointed in your choice for the reasons you think? 

You don’t want to give yourself false hope, but you cannot help but grasp at the notion. You’ve never had any indication before, no signs, nothing you could definitively say was anything more than friendship. Was this all just in your imagination? Were you reading into things too much? You feel foggy. confused. If he’d only listen to you, if you could only talk about this...

“Nanami, just listen, can we just talk-”

“I have to get ready, the higher ups will be expecting my report,” he turns on his heels and takes a step away from you. It feels like the beginning of an end; like if you don’t talk about what’s happening, he’ll slip even further out of your hands. 

“Nanami, please,” you beg, watching those beautiful broad shoulders sink slowly. You don’t even know what you’re pleading for; all you know is you do not want to watch him walk away. 

He pauses, just briefly. The silence feels louder than a scream, deafening you, choking you, dragging you down to some dark place you do not want to see.

“Don’t worry, I’ll still make you pancakes tomorrow,” his words are soft, small, all wrong. Your own are stuck in your throat.

An exhale, another pause, a slight shake of his head. 

And then he’s gone. 

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

Taglist: @ghost-party @mediocrityexpert @my-child-gaara @pterolycus7 (again, let me know if you want a tag for Part 2!)

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento fic #nanami kento imagine #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru fic #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk gojo satoru #jjk nanami #jjk nanami kento #nanami x reader #gojo x reader #my writing

[scotianostra]

November 10th 1871 saw the Journalist Henry M Stanley find the missing Scottish missionary David Livingstone with the classic “Dr Livingstone, I presume?”

November 10th 1871 saw the Journalist Henry M Stanley find the missing Scottish missionary David Livingstone with the classic “Dr Livingstone, I presume?”

David Livingstone arrived in Africa in 1840 with two goals: to explore the continent and to end the slave trade .Back home his writings and lectures ignited the public’s imagination regarding the “Dark Continent” and elevated Livingstone to the status of a national hero.

In 1864 Livingstone returned to Africa and mounted an expedition through the central portion of the continent with the objective of discovering the source of the Nile River. As months stretched into years, little was heard from the explorer. Rumors spread that Livingstone was being held captive or was lost or dead. Newspapers headlined the question “Where is Livingstone?” while the public clamored for information on the whereabouts of their national hero. By 1871, the ruckus had crossed to the shores of America and inspired James Gordon Bennett Jr, publisher of the New York Herald, to commission newspaper reporter Henry Stanley to find Livingstone. Incidentally Bennet’s father was a Scot, the younger Bennett is THE man where the phrase “Gordon Bennett” as an expression of incredulity, but that’s another story!

Leading an expedition of approximately 200 men, Stanley headed into the interior from the eastern shore of Africa on March 21, 1871. After nearly eight months he found Livingstone in Ujiji, a small village on the shore of Lake Tanganyika on November 10, 1871.

There is nothing better than the first had eye witness accounts of history and Stanley being an adept reporter meticulously wrote everything down, the following is his account on finding Livingstone.

“We push on rapidly. We halt at a little brook, then ascend the long slope of a naked ridge, the very last of the myriads we have crossed. We arrive at the summit, travel across, and arrive at its western rim, and Ujiji is below us, embowered in the palms, only five hundred yards from us! At this grand moment we do not think of the hundreds of miles we have marched, of the hundreds of hills that we have ascended and descended, of the many forests we have traversed, of the jungles and thickets that annoyed us, of the fervid salt plains that blistered our feet, of the hot suns that scorched us, nor the dangers and difficulties now happily surmounted. Our hearts and our feelings are with our eyes, as we peer into the palms and try to make out in which hut or house lives the white man with the gray beard we heard about on the Malagarazi.

We are now about three hundred yards from the village of Ujiji, and the crowds are dense about me. Suddenly I hear a voice on my right say, ‘Good morning, sir!’

Startled at hearing this greeting in the midst of such a crowd of black people, I turn sharply around in search of the man, and see him at my side, with the blackest of faces, but animated and joyous, - a man dressed in a long white shirt, with a turban of American sheeting around his woolly head, and I ask, 'Who the mischief are you?’

'I am Susi, the servant of Dr. Livingstone,’ said he, smiling, and showing a gleaming row of teeth.

'What! Is Dr. Livingstone here?’ 'Yes, Sir.’

'In this village?’

'Yes, Sir’

'Are you sure?’

'Sure, sure, Sir. Why, I leave him just now.’

In the meantime the head of the expedition had halted, and Selim said to me: 'I see the Doctor, Sir. Oh, what an old man! He has got a white beard.’ My heart beats fast, but I must not let my face betray my emotions, lest it shall detract from the dignity of a white man appearing under such extraordinary circumstances.

So I did that which I thought was most dignified. I pushed back the crowds, and, passing from the rear, walked down a living avenue of people until I came in front of the semicircle of Arabs, in the front of which stood the white man with the gray beard. As I advanced slowly toward him I noticed he was pale, looked wearied, had a gray beard, wore a bluish cap with a faded gold band round it, had on a red-sleeved waistcoat and a pair of gray tweed trousers. I would have run to him, only I was a coward in the presence of such a mob, - would have embraced him, only, he being an Englishman, I did not know how he would receive me; so I did what cowardice and false pride suggested was the best thing, - walked deliberately to him, took off my hat, and said, 'Dr. Livingstone, I presume?’

'Yes,’ said he, with a kind smile, lifting his cap slightly.

I replace my hat on my head and he puts on his cap, and we both grasp hands, and I then say aloud, 'I thank God, Doctor, I have been permitted to see you.’

He answered, 'I feel thankful that I am here to welcome you.’

Should you pick up on the "being an Englishman” words remember these were Stanley’s words, and he really should have known better, he himself was from Wales originally, leaving when he was just 15 to make his way to the USA.

Stanley joined Livingstone in exploring the region, finding that there was no connection between Lake Tanganyika and the Nile. On his return, he wrote a book about his experiences: How I Found Livingstone; travels, adventures, and discoveries in Central Africa.

More on Stanley here https://www.historic-uk.com/HistoryUK/HistoryofBritain/Sir-Henry-Morton-Stanley/

#Scotland #scottish #journalist #Wales #welsh #africa

[han-shinsuke]

P.S. LISTEN TO JULIA MICHAELS ‘HEAVEN’

n a n a m i k e n t o x d o m f e m a l e r e a d e r

(requested)

🔞🔞⚠️⚠️

W A R N I N G. DIRTY ACTIVITIES AHEAD. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

NANAMI'S HOES? CUM 😂😂

///

I was so flabbergasted after being ignored by my man twice when I tried to get him under my pants during the party. Nanami Kento just got home from his two weeks business trip abroad and I made sure to present myself in my most paramount state so I exerted a lot of effort and time to look beautiful in his eyes. I was expecting him to pull me in a corner or a darkened room and start banging me but he made no move instead he just walked passed by me and just nodded his head like what the fxck! I’m his girlfriend! He's supposed to hug me or kiss me!

In my annoyance, I grabbed two bottles of beer from the tray carried by a roving waitress and decided to drown myself tonight with alcohol! While chugging the beer emptied, I keep glancing at Nanami's direction near the pond in their garden and I feel like crying from his glorious and manly beauty that I have been craving for weeks to taste again. Damn. I’m so fxcking horny for my man right now! I want him to rail me hard and milk me dry until I beg him to stop like that way he used to do every time we were alone in his room! Have I done wrong? I don't remember any! So, why is he ignoring me?! I’m so fxcking beautiful and sexy tonight that I came up to a decision of not wearing a bra and the only cover that my two hardened nipplesx have right at this hour are just silicone cover and a skimpy crop top! I’m not even wearing a panty under my denim shorts! And it's all for you, you God’s gift to thirsty women like me!

I lost count of the beer I had taken down and I must say I’m so pretty wasted that I can't stop myself from dancing along with Julia Michaels’ 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏 when it started playing all over the place. I swayed my hips slow and grind down like a harlot on the dance floor where intoxicated souls gathered and it didn't took me that long to enjoy myself when I found myself being dragged by a tall and lean man wearing a plain white shirt and a khaki pants partnered with a very expensive oxford boots for men.

Finally, Nanami! You've noticed me! Due to alcohol influence in my system, my senses and thinking capabilities heightened. I yanked my arm from his grip and smiled seductively as I played with the strands of my hair, “daddy, I like to fxck.” I whispered enough for him to hear.

Nanami’s jaw clenched and I can hear his teeth gritting inside his mouth. I opened my plump lips and lolled out my tongue, “daddy, please, I’m thirsty for your cxck.” And with that, Nanami's patience snapped broken. His strong and muscular arms scooped me up and carried me effortlessly on his shoulders as he made his way through the partying crowds.

I was giggling loud when he kicked his bedroom door and headed towards the open window. Nanami dropped me on my feet and moved swiftly in removing his clothes. He sat on the foamed window seat and spread his thick thighs. His large palms caging his long and fat cxck as he motions me to kneel.

“You slut. Fcxking take responsibility for this.” Nanami struggling to breathe from anticipation would always be the best view for me.

“Want me to suck your cxck, daddyyy?” I asked him in my singing tone while gripping the top of his thighs as I slowly lower my head down to the tip of his penixs.

Nanami sucked in a good amount of air when I put the half of his wholeness in my mouth and lolled around my wet tongue on its’ width, “fxck baby~ lick its' head for daddy~” he said in his hoarse voice and I gladly obeyed. I pumped his cxck with my mouth and I don't mind feeling its' tip against my throat for his satisfaction is my priority at this moment.

“Yeah baby~ you are doing so fxcking good sucking my cxck~ keep going aannhhhgggg~” I lolled out my tongue again and wrapped its' wetness around his length as I moved my head up and down, not leaving Nanami's shaft unattended. My palms trails from his size down to his balls that I squeeze gently and suck gently before moving up to his shallow but sharp vline, up to his toned and hard six packs, ascending even higher to his chest.

Nanami gasped for air harshly when my fingers pinched and tugged his nipples while my mouth and tongue are busy worshipping his pulsating cxck.

“Fxck baby~ you're making me crazy aaahh~” I tugged his nipples even harder and grazed my long nails in circular motion around it as I sucked him fast, not even paying attention to my gagging state.

He's stuffing my mouth pretty good and I'm loving it. I retracted my fingers from his nipples and placed them back around his size, playing with his pinkish balls once again. Nanami moaned again. I feel proud of myself. I’m really doing a good blowjob.

My mouth made a popping sound when I repeatedly suck his tip and flick my tongue against its' tiny hole. “I’m cumming baby~ daddy is cumming~” I know because I can feel him throbbing between my lips. My hands stroked his length tightly while my lips are clenching its' head to help him reach his peak.

“Aaahhh~ fxck yeah baby~ Hnnnggg~ swallow my semen baby~ be a good girl for daddyyy~ fxck you~ fxck you baby~” I giggled again when Nanami spilled his seeds in my mouth and he even shove my face hard down to his wholeness as he release his cum right in my throat making me gag from his overflowing juice in my mouth.

“You good, daddyyy?” I showed him my tongue and let him watched as I licked the juice dripping from his cxck and I even showed him how I clean my lips stained by his semen.

Nanami gripped my long curls and smashed his lips against mine and we kissed each other torridly. Letting our saliva mix together between our tongues rubbing hard against each other. I moaned in his mouth and smiled between our grazing lips because at last! I could kiss him again!

“Fxck me, daddyyy~ rail me hard with your fat cxck please~” I broke away from his lips only to remove my top and snatched off the silicone cover from my nipples. My eyes are filled with lust when I squeezed my breast in front of him.

“Sit on my cxck baby~ daddy will gonna destroy that pusxy~” Nanami stroked his cxck and licked his lips as he bore his eyes on me.

“I like that daddyyy~ wreck my insides~ pump your loads inside my pusxy daddyyy~” I'm swaying my hips again as I slowly remove my shorts, revealing my silky soft hairless womanhood. I fondled my left nipple and slid two fingers between my slit and seductively went closer to Nanami while moaning really loud and dirty. “I missed your cxck inside my pusxy daddyyy~ make me full dadddyyy~ I’m a slut for you~”

Nanami smirked at me before he pulled me down straight to his really hard and fat cxck. He just inserted his penxs inside mine but I'm already squirting my juice by just having him buried to the deepest core of mine.

“Aahh~ squirting already my baby? You miss daddy’s cxck that much?” Nanami sways his hips against my bottom and I know I can no longer stop myself from wanting more of his touch and kisses.

I cupped his face and lift my lower part a little bit in order to put my nipples inside his warm mouth. I moaned, “ooohh~ shxt dadddyyyy~” Nanami sucked in my nipple and flicked his tongue against it making me arch my back and shove his face harder on my breast as I grind my wet puxsy against his cxck.

I caught his large hands and pinned them on the window ledge and hovered myself on top of him as I forced him eat, lick and suck my both breast.

“Gosh~ daddyyy~ lick my nipples again aaahhh~” I pushed myself harder onto him, completely overpowering Nanami Kento under my small frame as I continue grinding and pumping my cunt against his pulsating penxs.

“Fxck babymmmmppppp~” My round and perfectly shaped mounds drowned his moans as I keep restricting him with my tight grip and continuous hard pounding down to his hard shaft.

I don't stop pumping him but I stopped restricting his other hand and put it behind my lower back and commanded, “finger my ass daddyyy~” Nanami grinned when I remove my bouncing breast on his face and he did what I told him. I feel him inserting two fingers in my butthole and the remaining three in my stuffed cunt. My mouth formed an ‘O’ when I realized that I'm pumping his large cxck and long fingers at the same time in my two holes.

“Oooh~ dadddyyyy aaaahhhh~ harder daddyy~” I grabbed his other hand and suck his fingers while I'm pounding him from the top like an expert cowgirl riding an aggressive bull.

“what a cute slut my babyyy~ hmmm~ let's cum together aaahhh~” Nanami inched his face closer on mine and I shut my eyes closed when he licked my face before biting deep on the sensitive spot on my neck.

“Aaahh! Daddyyyy! Oooohhh hhnnngggg~” I lost grasp of the situation from his deep and unannounced attack so I found myself exploding my orgasm while still sucking his fingers.

“Ooohh~ You cum so fast babyy~ Wait for daddyyy~ let me breed your little cunt with my seed hhhngggg~” Nanami moaned in my neck and kissed the spot he bit before catching my attention away from his fingers that I am sucking. His wet fingers grabbed my face and kissed me again in a very dirty but lidido arousing manner.

“Dadddyyy hhhnnngggg~” my moans get contained inside his mouth when the kiss deepened and his fingers and cxck went deeper into my pusxy and pound me so hard that I'm having trouble breathing in his mouth.

I flinched and bit on his lower lip when he spanked my waist while his penxs and fingers are screwing my two holes harder than before.

“Daddy is cumming babyyy~ Aaahhhh~ here comes daddy's seeds babyyy~ tell your cunt to swallow it all aaahhhnnggg~” I hugged him tightly when our body vibrated and his warm seeds exploded inside me making me tremble on top of him as I grind myself against him so my entrance would be able to swallow him dry.

Nanami moves his hands up and down my waist, making sure none of his juice will be gone to waste.

“Daddyyy~ I feel so good hmmm~” I whispered in his ears while I'm still pumping my pusxy on his lap in a very slow and sensual speed.

“Ah, that's good to hear baby~” Nanami whispered, too, in my ears. I cupped his face again, pecked on his lips and tilted his head to lick his jaw and his neck.

“I love you, Nanami Kento.” I said to him then thrust my hips down against his buried cxck inside my cunt.

I laughed at him when I heard him moaned.

Guess, daddy can go for another round.

////

MAG COMMENT KAYO HEHEHE. DAGDAG MOTIVATION LANG! SALAMAT SA MGA MAGBABASA! I RUB YOU GUYS 😂😂

#nanami kento #Jujutsu kaisen #smut #dirty imagines #imagines #reader #gojo satoru #itadori yuuji

[fivenightslaughter]

Wicked Serpentine (Part 5)

pairing: draco malfoy x femravenclaw!oc

summary: slowburn enemies to lovers fic, a TON of parts. <3

warnings: use of m*dblood, bullying, swearing, mean malfoy

word count: 3,276

taglist: @gloryekaterina

I woke with a slight jolt, the sun showering my body in warm light. It was somehow even prettier during the day, as everything in the room seemed to glitter delightfully, the glass window to my left threw a faint rainbow on the floor. The blues seemed even deeper in the light and I noticed both girl’s beds were empty, but definitely slept in.

Sitting up, I threw my legs over the side of the bed and rubbed harshly at my eyes. I felt a yawn escape me. What time was it? I bent down to open my case, remembering I had a watch buried in there that I hadn’t pulled out last night.

Squinting my eyes, I read the hands. It was seven-thirty and I didn’t have a class until nine. Just how early did the other Ravenclaw girls leave bed? Shaking my head, I walked to the stand at the end of my bed and placed it atop my clothes.

I noticed my own hair falling in front of my eyes and ran a hand through it, shocked at how many knots it twisted into overnight. It was definitely the best sleep I’ve had in weeks, that was for sure. I couldn’t help a laugh as I picked up my clothes for the day and looked down at myself.

I was still wearing the grimy clothes I had arrived here in. Gross. I recalled Luna pulling the curtain back last night, revealing the stairs up to this room. There were stairs down as well; and I faintly remember seeing some sort of parchment hastily scribbled on, surely for the first years, labeling it as the way down to the showers and bathrooms.

I was thankful for that much. Opening the door, I started down the cold stairs, the stone sending chills up my body that made me hurry down even faster. There were so many stairs it was dizzying.

I reached the bottom, attempting to ignore the common room through a curtain on my left. There was already a bit of noise and I’d guessed most of my housemates were early risers. I spotted the sign I saw last night and hurried down a second set of stairs.

This path down was a bit ways longer and darker than the way up to the rooms. The stairs were warmer and watery footprints splashed certain steps. I went a bit slower considering the rather ample time I had to get ready.

Arriving at the bottom, I wasn’t surprised that the bathroom had been mostly retired for the morning, and that I was likely the last. I spotted a line of showers across from where I stood with thick blue curtains and stalls. There was a folded pile of plush blue towels and a few benches.

Setting my clothes down, I hesitantly stripped before entering the shower. Thoughts swarmed my head as I turned it on. For a moment, I stepped back, expecting a second of freezing water but it never came. It was pleasantly lukewarm, actually.

Letting it splash my scalp and run the grime from my body, I began to slowly untangle the knots that had formed overnight. The events from the night previous felt like it wasn’t more than a dream gifted from the gorgeous bed I’d slept in.

My thoughts and the comfortable water didn’t do a lot to ease my nerves for the day, but I was clean nonetheless. After what felt like a couple minutes, I’d finished up and opened the curtain. Snagging a blue towel from a bench, I wrapped it around me. It was as comfortable and inviting as everything else I’d experienced so far.

Slowly drying off, I pulled on a buttoned white dress shirt, along with a charcoal colored sweater. I paused, not too eager to sit down and slip black tights over my slightly slick skin, but I heaved a sigh.

I stuck to the bench a bit when I sat, tugging black tights up to my waist. I slipped on a black skirt and winced; it was the last piece of clothing I’d brought down.

I had no Ravenclaw-colored ties and only a plain black robe, which I’d managed to leave up in my room by accident.

I crinkled my nose, resolving to be more mindful of where I place things. I’m sure having to ascend the awkwardly long stairs again would do well to teach me that lesson. The heat was starting to leave the room and I slipped dress shoes on, hurrying up the stairs.

I checked the watch I’d brought down with me- it was 8 am now. Fastening it onto my wrist, I journeyed back up the stairs. It felt weirdly shorter than the first couple times and I raised my eyebrows about how much quicker the door had approached than before.

The door was propped open a bit and I jumped as I walked in, noticing another girl. She was kind-looking with long brown hair and dark eyes. She spun to face me, a smile lighting up her face.

“You must be Eris! I’m Cho. I’m actually-…” She hesitated, her eyes widening, “Well… Nevermind, actually.” She gave a short laugh and rubbed her hands together. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion and she sucked in a breath.

“I’ll tell you some other time, okay? Anyway, you have some gifts that were dropped off to the common room for you!” She beamed, raising her eyebrows.

The look of confusion on my face was even deeper than before as she handed me a plain looking cardboard box. A second, much smaller green one sat on top, sticking out like a sore thumb.

A “Thanks…?” was all I could manage.

She looked from the boxes to me and clasped her hands together before gathering whatever books she had originally come upstairs for.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it!” She called behind her as she exited the room.

I walked over to my bed and set the larger one down, opening it up. I gasped, seeing a folded black robe with a blue lined inside and the Ravenclaw crest above the left breast. There were two robes, along with three blue and white Ravenclaw-colored ties. There was also a single blue and white scarf along with a schoolbag.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Who would do this for me?

There was a small, square piece of parchment on the bottom of the box, folded in half. I plucked it up, flipping it open.

“Proper robes are necessary. Do not be late or without uniform. I will not hesitate to subtract house points.

Head of Slytherin House,

Severus Snape. ”

A weird smile found its way to my face. As heavy handed and cold as he was, he was becoming the only adult figure in my life to offer some kind of guidance. It soothed my anxiety to know I had anyone looking out for me.

Within the minute, I’d slipped on one of the black and blue robes. I quickly threw the tie around my neck and tucked it under the collar of the white dress shirt. Fumbling for a second, I tied it off and tucked it below the robe. I shouldered the empty bag.

What could this next box be then?

I opened it, completely unaware that in doing so, I’d be completely knocked backwards onto my rear. A loud bang had erupted into my face and covered my hair and face in some kind of black soot. I choked up the blackness and sat dumbly on the stone floor.

I heard the door open and Cho rushed over to me. I think she was listening in and had never begun making her way down the stairs, but I was thankful for that at the moment.

“I was on my way down and I heard a loud noise! Are you okay?” She seemed troubled by my appearance and my trip to the ground.

“Ah, hold on actually!” She reached to her side, pulling out her wand. Pointing it directly after, she swished it in a fluid motion.

“Scourgify!” Her wand lit and the dusty blackness had quickly dissipated, nowhere to be seen except for the coating on the inside of the little green box. I looked down into it and saw a dirty piece of parchment that looked like it had been torn off of the corner of a page.

I read it aloud to Cho. “D.M…? Who on earth…?”

She avoided my eyes and instead examined the room. It was clear she recognized the initials.

“Of course Draco Malfoy would target... someone... like this. I’m so sorry, Eris.” She spoke his name through gritted teeth, scrunching up her face. She looked truly apologetic.

Cho knew that I could tell that her use of ‘someone’ was a substitute for words she would never say.

I pressed my lips together at her usage but quickly moved on. Draco Malfoy. So that was his first name. He seemed even worse than his impression on the train gave off.

I wasn’t surprised he’d gone out of his way to do this to me, considering how much I stuck out. Neither was Cho, based off of her statement.

I shrugged it off as best I could, glad for that ‘ Scourgify’ spell. I’d have to be sure to learn that. Maybe I’d ask her to teach me sometime.

“It’s okay, and thank you for the spell. I appreciate it, otherwise I’d have been screwed.” I spoke, leading her to finally meet my eyes. She stuck her arm out to help me up and I gladly grabbed her outstretched hand.

In an attempt to brush it off, I turned and went to grab the books I’d need for the day off of the opposite side of my bed. Spotting the box from Snape, I placed the lid back onto it and picked it up, kneeling to slide it under my bed.

Cho looked overly curious, her chin tilted up as she tried to see over my bed to where I was.

“So, who was that first, non-explosive, box from?” She finally asked.

I shrugged. I had a feeling that Snape wasn’t the most kind or overly gracious person, so I kept it to myself.

“Definitely not Malfoy.” I said under my breath, being just loud enough for her to hear.

She pursed her lips in an attempt to fight off a laugh.

“Yeah, definitely not.” She agreed.

Sliding my school bag from my shoulder onto the bed, I began tucking my books into the opening. I fished my wand out from underneath my pillow, where it had disappeared to when I fell asleep last night. I made sure to slip the green box in the bag as well.

I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with it yet. I mulled over the options for a moment. Who do I tell? Do I confront him myself?

Walking to the table in the middle of the room, I grabbed parchment and a quill, folding and tucking the paper into my bag.

I checked my watch and it was already 8:20. My stomach grumbled noisily and I swore I saw Cho smile out of the corner of my eye.

“Would you like to go to the dining hall before classes start?” She asked, already knowing the answer as she held the door open for me to leave the room with her.

She paused for a moment, looking at me. “The question for the main door changes daily, I suggest making sure you have everything you need before leaving Ravenclaw for the day.”

I nodded, thankful for her warning. Double checking that I had everything I needed in my bag, I walked past her and quickly ambled down the stairs. She closed the door and we both headed for the common room at the bottom left of the staircase.

Opening the curtains, I earned a few glances from straggling Ravenclaws who hadn’t left yet. Cho bumped me lightly and whispered “ignore them” under her breath, eyeing them. The room wasn’t as hauntingly beautiful during the day as it had been when Luna and I came in last night, but it was still dazzling.

Cho was ahead of me now as we exited the common room, back into the hall Luna had guided me to the previous night. It was still a bit dark, but daylight noticeably seeped through windows and cracks. It was still foreboding, however, as if the castle itself had secrets making it darker than it should be.

Fighting off the weirdly ominous thought, I noticed Cho far ahead of me yet again. I started off after her. I’d definitely regret losing her in this maze. I’m sure I’d learn my way, in time, but I was on a tight schedule for my very first morning and couldn’t afford that right now.

We quickly came upon a large, open doorway. I recognized it as the dining hall where I was assigned my house. The memory felt weirdly far away for not having happened all that long ago.

There were quite a few students in the hall, quietly eating or discussing their classes for the day. I followed Cho to a seat and she slid a plate toward me. It had bacon and buttered toast along with a couple other odd things I wasn’t a huge fan of eating.

I managed to finish the toast and bacon just before I felt something hit the back of my head. Turning around and looking to the floor, I quickly identified a grape, literally half-eaten from someone’s breakfast. It was followed by laughing and taunting noises. I didn’t even have to look to know who had done it.

Two more pelted my head as a voice called out. “Enjoy your gift this morning, Woodwork?”

Cho looked to me empathetically, her hand fiddling nervously with her sweater collar. She placed a hand on my arm and seemed to think for a second before also turning to face the grape-slinger.

“Just leave her alone.” She spoke sternly in his direction.

More laughter ensued.

“Come on, Chang. Why lower yourself to befriend such a filthy little mudblood? Unless it’s just out of pity?” He sneered, his mates jeering and snickering with him. She looked crestfallen at his easy use of the word.

I pushed my plate away from me and stood, patting her on the shoulder.

“It’s fine, Cho. I think I’m just gonna find my first class.” I assured her. Without waiting for her reply, I left the dining hall and took off in no particular direction.

Checking my watch, it was 8:40. I was falling a bit behind on time and I felt stupid for taking off without even asking Cho where to find my classes earlier on. It was Potions with Snape, which gave me a tiny semblance of solace.

Taking a deep breath, I wondered what I should do. My problem-solving was cut short by a leg jutting out in front of me while I walked. I stopped just short of tripping, quickly turning to face whoever stood in the hallway with me.

“Half decent reaction speed for a muggle-born. I’d honestly expected you to be much… Slower .” A smirk lifted his mouth as he awaited my reaction to what he likely thought to be the funniest joke ever.

Meeting his eyes, I decided to try and solve my problem with the only option presented to me.

“Where’s the Potions classroom?”

He seemed taken aback for a moment but he recovered quickly, his face falling into a sneer. His nostrils flared and he narrowed his eyes. Were his only expressions singed with fire?

“I know where the bloody Potions classroom is! I’m on my way there now. ” He proclaimed. My solace dissipated into nothing. Of all classes to have together, did it have to be this one?

His disgusted and impatient expression tipped me off to the quick realization that he had taken my reply differently than I’d meant. He must have thought I was calling him thick by asking if he knew something so obvious to him.

I tried to formulate a reply on the spot. “Wait, no, well-”

He cut me off quickly, metaphorical fumes expelling from his ears. “No? Are you telling me what classes I have, now, too? You’re awful confident for a stupid little pratt.”

I winced, breaking eye contact with him. I looked to the floor and counted a stone or two before sighing. It was too early in the morning for whatever heated competition he wanted to ignite.

“I asked because I don’t. Know where it is, I mean.”

The hall was silent for a moment before he let out boisterous laughter. It went on for long enough for me to awkwardly fiddle with the strap of my bag and wait. His hand jut out to hold him against the wall. His other one rested on his stomach, as if he’d just heard the funniest thing and couldn’t contain himself.

He quieted and I’d gotten curious enough to look back to his face. He stared, his grey eyes calculating and colder than before.

“You’re pathetic.” A smile lifted his face. It was eerily genuine and sweet, clashing viciously with the words he’d just spoken. Or maybe it’d spawned from the joy he gained from the coldness of his statement.

My jaw was clenched and my hands still rested on my bag’s strap, pulling and picking at the edges. I chose to ignore him and move on, letting the emotions in me simmer down as I checked the time. I looked back to him as vacantly as I could manage.

“Well, lead the way then.” I stated plainly. His glare broke away from me to peer at my watch from across the hall. I readjusted my bag. I hoped deep down that voice hadn’t revealed my nervousness.

“It’s 8:55.” I offered, when it was clear he couldn’t read my watch in the poorly lit hallway himself. I was convinced my body language was giving away my discomfort, but if he had noticed, he didn’t show it.

Huffing, he started down the hallway, not bothering to check if I could keep up.

My footsteps were short and quiet and I walked, much quieter than his as his shoes clicked down the corridor. I felt ghostly and pale, much like Luna.

The boy clearly grew curious about whether or not I was actually managing to follow and gave a short glance behind him. I felt a tiny and triumphant laugh bubble in me as he faced back forward, frustrated that, yes, I had still existed in the same hallway as him.

To my surprise after a few twists, turns, and stairs, he slowed a bit. It became less difficult to stay within a few steps of him.

He stopped suddenly and we nearly collided.

His back was to me and all I could see was his neatly combed mop of blond, a few stray strands battling his regally put-together look. He spun to face me, his face likely slightly red from rushing down the hallway.

“You will never amount to anything. You’re utter waste in the wizarding world and my father owns house elves more competent than you.”  

Without another word, he’d pushed open a door and disappeared through it. I’d guessed this was the classroom, then.

He sat near the back corner of the classroom and it was suddenly as if I didn’t exist. Not even a second, piercing glance in my direction.

How I wished that silence could have stretched forever.

#draco malfoy x oc #hagrid #diagon alley #harry potter #harry potter imagines #draco malfoy imagines #george weasley imagines #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #draco #slowburn #enemies to lovers #draco malfoy smut #george weasley smut #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!oc #lily evans potter #lily x snape #lily x severus #slytherin #ravenclaw #hogwarts #cho chang #luna lovegood

[reithel1]

Lucifer: Revelations (Outline for a Movie)

OR

Lucifer: Season 6.66

(How I Would Have Written Season 6):

I Love the actors, the characters and have deep appreciation for everyone in front of and behind the cameras… the story had quite a few good things… but parts were missing, some were confusing and some parts that were just plain mean… you naughty writers!

Lucifer Season Six was a disappointment to a lot of people. I swear, if I hear one more person say “bittersweet” I’m going to kick someone right in their dark chocolate.

It wasn’t “bittersweet” … much of the Chloe-and-Lucifer story was just bitter, period. (Also, a lot of folks are appalled at the way Trixie was snubbed…)

First, it’s obvious that none of your writers are old enough to understand the pain they are trying to write about…

They say, “it’s ok because they know Lucifer and Chloe will have eternity together”… This is something that a younger person would write… someone who has never had to live for several decades without that one person… the love of her life, raise his child alone… missing those milestones… first steps, first giggles, birthdays and holidays… it’s even worse, much worse, if he is somewhere else missing them too and she has to feel his pain too. And that is just HUMAN suffering.

Compound that with knowing your loved one is in a place where a month of your pain is a thousand years of torture for him, and it becomes unfathomable.

I have done the human part and wouldn’t even wish that pain on a fictional character.

That Time Travel nonsense just doesn’t work if it means that Lucifer has to sacrifice everything he has worked through, trying to so hard to come to grips with his own daddy issues. There is NO WAY that he would agree to walk away from his own child after all of that. NO WAY that he becomes a deadbeat Daddy.

So, I learned a new word… RETCON… it means “Retroactive Continuity”… something can be changed so that things that come after it can also be changed…

This can be corrected if it is shown that parts of the sixth season were just old, sick Chloe’s dementia, bad dreams, an injury or an illness-driven hallucination...

For one thing, once Rory returned to Chloe’s deathbed, couldn’t she have EASILY just sent up a prayer to Uncle Amenadiel aka GOD, and said, “I know the truth now, please tell Dad it’s time to come home, Mom needs him... it’s time!” and Lucifer could have been there within seconds! So the final scenes of Chloe dying without him don’t make any sense. Amenadiel not taking Chloe to see her Dad and Mom in heaven before heading to Hell also doesn’t make any sense… if she lived to be old, Penelope would have joined John by then.

So, I present: LUCIFER: REVELATIONS OR SEASON 6.66:

NEW GOD: I would change the plot so that Lucifer initially ascends the throne, attempts being God, (people AND angels died for him to become God, you know), he discovers what a hard job it really is, (remember when he said he hated the cacophony of voices in his head? How hard would it be for him to have to deal with 7.79 billion people praying to him in different languages, almost all at once, and see how he handled THAT!), then discovers Chloe is pregnant and THEN figures out that he doesn’t want the God job... How hard would it be for him when he’s God to constantly hear what she is thinking and have to turn a “deaf ear” to it? Not comment on it out of respect for her... adjust to letting her have some kind of privacy? After awhile, Lucifer begins to take more and more time away from his God duties, as if pretending he’s deaf and turning off his “hearing aid.”

NO GOD: On a celestial level, the other angels get frustrated because Dad has vacated the throne, Michael was gone (being punished in Hell) and Lucifer is gone frequently because he wants to step down — spend more time with Chloe as she nears her due date, then with the baby and Trixie, settling in to being an “earthly” Dad, and sort of neglecting his “Father of the Universe” duties… and Amenadiel doesn’t want it either... New rumbling began regarding who should rule... Since earth is once again basically without a God, things begin to descend into chaos, both on the earthly plane and in Heaven...

MICHAEL: Lucifer’s counsel helps Michael understand that the same parental issues that caused him to be rebellious and mischievous has caused Michael to be resentful and devious… This revelation helps them both, Lucifer forgives Michael and after awhile, Michael finally forgives himself for being a dickhead, and finally self-actualizes his wings back. Michael returns to the Silver City, and is happily reunited with all his siblings who are pleased that he has found his way... but soon, he feels the tension of the empty throne, he considers trying to claim it, but he is a different angel now, feels that it is no longer his destiny or his desire to rule... he feels unfulfilled in Heaven and returns to Hell to help Lucifer with his giant new task of helping lost souls find their own way out.

Lucifer is surprised and very pleased to be working wing-to-wing with his brother and it helps lighten his work load, but is dismayed to hear of the unrest in Heaven and the disintegration of things on earth. Since Michael has made such a transformation, while Lucifer was still God, he fixes Michael’s wing and shoulder, removes his scar and makes him beautiful again, with shimmering gold wings. Now he’s just as lovely as Lucifer and has no further reason for jealousy.

AMENADIEL: I wanted to see Amenadiel in a situation where he saved that racist boss by stepping in front of him and deflecting a bullet… the same black guy he has been so horrid to has now saved him… Amenadiel could have a few choice words for him, maybe pulls his shirt open and show him there is no bulletproof vest… right before leaving to go back to the Silver City.

NEW REBELLION: Near the end of the Movie: Wouldn't it be great if Lucifer and Michael could return to Heaven for a battle scene and fight together with Amenadiel against a new rebellion led by someone other than Lucifer or Michael? Now Lucifer is finding out how his father felt when Lucifer rebelled against Him all those many years ago! Surprised? Betrayed? Angry? Hurt? (Maybe it could even be Rory or some as-yet unborn angel child that starts this rebellion against him... but this time, it’s not because he wasn’t a good Dad, but because he is not being a good God in their eyes.)

They would find a way to make their brothers and sisters stand down by stopping the rebellion by a show of wit and power but not fighting... maybe just as the battle is about to begin, Lucifer (who is still God at this point) slices a veil of clouds with the flaming sword, showing a brilliant white and diamond view of a Heavenly Host of souls, millions of them... (CGI) all the good souls who have agreed, plus all the souls that he has saved from Hell and ascended to Heaven who have vowed never to serve any angel who takes the throne by force... (this scene would be great close to the end of the movie for a chance to see everyone one last time as they all stand together in the clouds in support of Lucifer), and can include any/all main characters that have recently deceased — if any — Ella, Maze, Eve, Linda, Trixie... previous characters: John and Penelope Decker, Dan and Charlotte, Father Kinley/Dromos and Squee, Delilah, Jimmy Barnes, Father Frank, Candy Morningstar, Reese, Cain, Abel and LeMec and Mr Said Out Bitch and any angels like RayRay, Zadkiel, Sara, Gabriel, and any other fan favorites from the past that we’d recognize, anyone who is available and willing to do it for the right price), and it is an amazing, breathtaking sight to behold... and with Chloe, Michael, and Amenadiel by his side, Lucifer says, “What would be the point of sitting on a throne in an empty kingdom where the only ones to bend a knee will be a few of your own brothers and sisters?”

This has paved the way for the New God...

(Note: For a couple of seconds each, show a view of the couch back home in Hell’s Therapy Office: Julian and his dad Mr. Tiernan are waiting for their session, squabbling. In another room, Malcom is sitting in a lumpy chair in front of a big screen TV that doesn’t work, with a table of food looks beautiful but has no taste or smell, and a glance into another room with Pete surrounded by lilies, listening to angry women — Ella’s voice and his mother’s — screaming at him 24/7. He and Malcom are both staring at a sign above a Red Light that isn’t lit... “Come to Therapy Office when Lit”)

NEW GOD/OG GOD: The three brothers calmed the rebellion, but they still have an empty throne that none of them really want to ascend to... Lucifer is still technically God, and Michael and Amenadiel try to convince Lucifer that he should resume his duties but Lucifer and Michael are now humble enough to know that it is not their calling... their work in Hell needs them.

Big fanfare! Dad comes back, and Lucifer gladly returns the family business back to its rightful owner... ALL of Lucifer’s lessons are NOW FINALLY completed, FINALLY he has a whole new understanding of how tough God’s job was, he has a whole new appreciation and respect for his Dad and the two of them can finally have the relationship they have always needed and Lucifer has always craved and Lucifer will finally have the chance to have a real family with his Dad and Mum, since they worked out their shit in her dimension, (He’s GOD for Heaven’s sake, you damn well know He can travel between dimensions if He wants to, and I’m sure Goddess is equally powerful and can come and go as She pleases too... gimme a break!

PS: Uriel and Remi can make an appearance too, because I am quite sure Dad is very capable of snatching his children’s souls out of their bodies, or creating replicas or holograms or whatever… removing them from harm’s way just in the nick of time, or giving them new bodies up in the Silver City. He IS God!)

God tells Lucifer he saw him at the Colosseum and was practicing blinking his eyes at the end (we saw three quick black outs at the end of season five while Lucifer held up the flaming sword and said, “Oh my Me”... figured it must’ve been God blinking, but it wasn’t mentioned again).

The three brothers now understand the pecking order, Amenadiel is second in command and has his ability to slow time plus almost as many powers as God (but not quite all the “omni’s”), and Lucifer and Michael are 2nd and 3rd in line, having slightly less powers than Amenadiel but more than the other angels, are happy to facilitate the transformation of Hell while helping out in Heaven whenever called upon to do so — those rare times when God, Goddess and Amenadiel are absent, need extra help or errands run somewhere in the world. Lucifer is still the Lightbringer but that is about all that stands him apart from Michael at that point, as they stand together as matching archangels.

And maybe in the end, the seven of them, (Dad, Mum, Amenadiel, Linda, Lucifer and Chloe and Michael) all working together to make earth and hell better places, and raise Charlie, Trixie and Rory and any future angel babies to be the next generation so that Grandpa and Grandma, Moms, Dads and Uncles can actually take a Vacay once in awhile and visit Mum’s dimension... or... Boca maybe? French Riviera? And Michael helps cover the workload in Hell’s Therapy Office, while Lucifer is away.

LINDA: Speaking of Linda, Linda and Amenadiel should realize eventually that they miss each other and really do love each other. In my story, Dad returns and takes his throne back so that would give Amenadiel and Linda plenty of time to fall back in love, especially now that Maze has married and no longer has a reason to be jealous of them. God and Goddess may retire eventually, or at least lighten their load in this dimension so they can work part time in Goddess’s dimension, so it would be nice if Amenadiel wasn’t going to be alone for eternity since he will obviously be second in command, and in charge, when God and Goddess are busy elsewhere. Plus, there’s Charlie and maybe future angel babies???

DAN: I would have shown Lucifer spending more time with Dan but getting frustrated with him like he always did, (and like he did with Mr. SOB), until he finally takes Dan through a rewind of every important scene of the last days of his life, in reverse, to see why he was feeling guilty... he would have landed on Trixie and their game of unicorn armies soon enough. (And by the way... how is it that Lucifer instantly knew the source of Lee’s guilt, and the Professor’s, and apparently everyone else’s in hell, but couldn’t figure out what Dan was feeling guilty about???) The way Dan ended up in Heaven with Charlotte, waffles and chocolate pudding cups was pretty perfect. I wouldn’t change that.

They didn’t need the whole time travel bullshit to pull it off... and it would have made a much better story without it.

MAZE and EVE: Maze and Eve was pretty good... in a movie, we could see more of their daily life, find out if they have a dungeon in their basement... you know, for Saturday night orgies... (or for some quick, fun torture before turning in their bounty catches)... find out if they ever decided to raise a kid together... maybe Trixie went to stay with them when she turned 18?

Plot twist! Maybe something happens to Trixie and Maze sacrifices herself to save her and dies... ends up in Heaven after all. (See below.)

ADAM: I thought the guy they cast for Adam was an odd choice... Eve looked like she came from that region, but he didn’t look like someone who supplied a rib to make her... all things being equal and taking DNA into consideration.... He should have looked more like her.... But oh well, not my place.... Anyway... maybe God can park Adam in Mum’s new universe and see if She can “pull” something better out of him, LoL. Hopefully his first two sons in Her dimension won’t set us all up to be potential homicidal maniacs.

ELLA: Ella and Carol seemed to be getting along ok, we could find out if she finally found a good guy... or does she like tequila too much to stick with him? Does he backslide into drinking and become violent with her? Does she have to defend herself with the taser she keeps on her key ring these days?

LOL. Anyway, there should be a scene where RayRay comes for a visit... maybe two scenes... one where she stops by to say hello right when Ella finds out that celestials are real and then again at the moment of her death. And Ella should feel welcomed and comforted by her friend RayRay in that moment... which could be something violent and dramatic (and very poignant) if it happens when she’s young... like a shooter in the police station or something.

Then she could see Amenadiel and Lucifer when they welcome her into Heaven. After Michael redeems himself, he and Ella might be a great pair in Heaven... she’s always been attracted to bad boys, and Michael, being an ex-bad boy, might be just what she needs... and her heavenly brightness, might be just what he needs! Michael needs somebody to love him and give him the balance that Chloe gives Lucifer. Yes... perfect... and then Michael would also have his eternal mate. Michael could even fly her down to Hell at some point to peek in on Pete… just for shits and giggles.

One final note about Ella... once God returns, now that Ella knows the truth... she will demand a wedding. We all know Ella wouldn’t let Chloe’s baby be born without Chloe being married to the baby daddy... even if he is an angel... and even if the officiant is God... she would want the pomp and circumstance and the flourish for Chloe and for all their friends. (Because their police friends don’t know that Lucifer is an Angel and God-frey is GOD and Lucifer’s brother/aka Officer Amenadiel is an Angel...) she would want to put on the whole shindig as much for them as the for the happy couple! (The fans want it too!) And woweee what a wedding night!

TRIXIE: I would have shown a few short clips and bits or a montage of Trixie as she reached adulthood… not only milestones like getting driver’s license and a not-catholic-Chloe giving her the keys then crossing herself… first kiss, cap and gown pic of high school graduation, but also brief scenes of her holding pic of Dan crying… maybe even looking at her mom’s gun… sitting on Linda’s couch…

Maybe Trixie follows in the family tradition and joins the LAPD when she’s old enough... Pete has been in a mental institution but has conned everyone that he’s sane and is out now… Trixie is in the precinct when Pete shows up bearing a grudge and a semi-automatic pistol… Maze and Eve are there with their latest bounty, Ella is there with some evidence on a case, and is scared when she sees him… Pete shoots at Ella, but Maze jumps him, takes the bullet, starts fighting… Pete isn’t great with a gun (and he’s still crazy) so he misses Ella, but he keeps shooting… then RayRay shows up, tells Ella not to worry, to close her eyes, everything will be fine,(nobody else can see her of course)… Maze ends up saving Trixie and Eve and several other people in the office with her ninja skills, but during the scuffle, one of the bullets hits Ella and several others are deflected, but Maze takes two more hits that would have killed Trixie and Eve and a couple of other officers receive non-life-threatening GSWs. Maze is a tough cookie, but even she can’t survive being shot three times at close range… and RayRay makes sure Ella feels no fear or pain as she transcends then goes back for Maze who survives a little longer. Long enough for a tearful, heartfelt goodbye to Eve... maybe she sings a few bars of Wonderwall? Eve, who, being 13 billion years old herself, may follow her to Heaven with a broken heart (or an aneurism or a ruptured appendix) soon after. Who knows. She’s never been sick before... will she know what to do if she feels a pain in her right side?

Ooooo! I just added this:

As she is dying, Maze thinks Eve’s wound is superficial, (but is it?), and tells Eve she thinks she is “Done, ‘over-and-out” and probably headed for Squee’s chamber of torture in Hell since she’s not sure Lucifer ever finished making the changes regarding who could rule…

After RayRay drops off Ella in Heaven she returns to the precinct massacre… Maze thinks she’s there to take Eve and begs RayRay to let Eve live… To keep us guessing, the scene changes…. SO, did RayRay take only Eve back to Heaven? Or put one under each arm and fly away? Did she take one to Heaven and one to Hell? Stay tuned…

Trixie was saved by Maze’s sacrifice and ultimately becomes a Detective like her mom and dies heroically, in the line, years later, after marrying and giving Chloe and Lucifer a couple of grandchildren to dote over. Happy reunion scene in Heaven with Dad-Dan and Grandma Penelope Decker, meets Grandpa John Decker. Maybe it could do a quick view of the person Trixie gave her life to save who goes on to become a doctor and find a cure for a disease. Framed on the doctor’s desk is a newspaper clipping of a headline, “Ninja Cop Saves Kid” subheading “Officer Subdued Three Suspects Using Karambit, Freed Hostage Before Being Shot”

LINDA: It doesn’t have to be Rory that helps Lucifer figure out that he’s supposed to be a therapist is Hell... LINDA could be the one to point out to Lucifer that he offered Lee, (Mr. Said Out Bitch), some excellent advice, the same way she’s been offering Lucifer advice for the past five years, only Lee actually took that advice (unlike Lucifer who usually skews or screws up her advice)... And that’s why Lee was there in heaven to help him when he crash-landed... “And hey... wouldn’t it be wonderful if someone could give that kind of advice to other souls down in Hell? Because until the moment that YOU TOOK THE TIME to explain it to Lee, NOBODY DOWN THERE KNEW what was causing their hell loops or that they had ANY CHANCE or ANY METHOD of escaping them! Maybe they just needed somebody to give them that clue. What do you think Lucifer? Do you know anybody who might be UNIQUELY QUALIFIED for that job?” — you see??? No need for a friggin' time travel plot device... no need to torture Lucifer, who has already spent billions of years in hell, by taking him away from the love of life and his child for billions more years!

I could also see Lucifer having a standing weekly appointment with Linda both while still living and in Heaven after she passes, to discuss his most difficult cases and get her take on them and opinions on what he should say, which he will get right sometimes and spectacularly fuck up other times!

Linda loves her role as therapist to the celestial world, and her man is God and Goddess’s 2nd in Command now, her son is an angel... she is set for eternity! The doctor is IN!

CHARLIE, RORY, OTHER ANGEL BABIES: After Amenadiel and Linda come to their senses and finally commit to being together, they should have a set of twins, possibly more babies later. Lucifer and Chloe should have at least one more. Angel babies are smart… half humans start normal… get their wings around the time they are potty trained. Linda and Chloe provide discipline, human education… empathy, sympathy, joy, and as much human history as possible. The children would be extremely smart, could skate through school jumping grades… so being home-schooled seems more logical. Controlling excitable, hyperactive children who can fly will prove quite challenging for the human parents, but the angel Daddies are thrilled with their role… teaching them to fly, schooling them about celestial business… Also, they could grow in stature faster than normal human children. They would look grown up by the age of five, but would still be as immature as children and need their mothers to guide their emotional maturity to catch up to their rapid growth.

DECKERSTAR: In my story, we get to see Lucifer and Chloe happy together, raising Trixie and Rory... Chloe always trying to keep her devilish side in check while Daddy's always having fun. Rory has him wrapped around her pinky and he is a doting daddy. She’s a handful, brilliant in school.... Sometimes a little “spirited” and that gets her in trouble.

She gets bullied at school, she says, “back off Billy, you got no idea who my daddy is! Remember the girl that bullied Trixie?

I can picture her first date... Lucifer says, “have her home by 9:30 OR ELSE” and flashes his red eyes...

The first time a date gets fresh with her and she says, “No means NO!” and tosses them out of the car!

Oh hell, watching Lucifer and Chloe raise Rory and Trixie and any other little angels that come along would be hilariously funny... could be it’s own spin off “Devil Daddy Knows Best” or Daddy Devil Knows Best... I can’t decide.

NUDITY: In a movie, we can see more of Lucifer in the nude, and have hotter sex scenes.... Not x-rated or anything, but we could get closer to R-rated... definitely expand on that orgy scene in “Orgy Pants to Work”!!! (Tom’s wife looks enough like Lauren that with the right lighting and camera angles, they could do a lot together using her as Lauren’s body double and with editing, we would never know which was which!!!). And maybe he’d actually KISS HER.

Sure, the whole “Chloe growing older while Lucifer stays young” plot thing is a pain in the ass... for some of the years, he could dye his hair greyer to match hers until it was white, even though his face wouldn’t have aged.... People see what they want to see... but it would have been a lot more heart-wrenching to have a scene where an older-looking Chloe calls a family meeting and asks the children to please understand that society just won’t handle the truth, and they must fake Lucifer’s death so that they can start a new life someplace else where nobody knows them... that means they won’t get to see him very much because he will have to live elsewhere and they can only go visit and have to pretend he’s dead. At least that way, Chloe can see him on weekends and vacations, and he can fly in for quick visits in the middle of the night when either of them get too lonely. They can set things up ahead of time for rendezvous.

At some point, she can retire from the LAPD and announce that she is moving to Florida or Vegas (some place where folks are used to seeing older women with younger men), or whatever, and she can be a cougar and he’s her pool boy? Massage therapist? Chef? (Could be a running joke.)

When she reaches a certain age, it could be a tear jerking scene if she asks him to leave her because she is embarrassed about her failing body, but would he? Why wouldn’t he just agree to allow her to lie to people and say he was living with her because he was her nephew or male nurse or something? Or simply say he was her caretaker… which wouldn’t be a lie… At that point, nobody would know them, and it’s nobody’s business anyway...

And he would definitely be by her bedside when she died, and so would Trixie and Maze and anyone else that was still alive, (if any... or did she outlive them all because she was stuck with the Tree of Life??? Nobody told us if that, and being able to conceive angel babies were the side effects of being stabbed with the Tree of Life...) and upon her death there would be a tender, tearful, “see you soon,” then RayRay would show up, she would transform into her younger self, and Lucifer would fly her to Heaven to see Amenadiel and her Dad, probably her mom by then, and any of their friends if any of them died first.

OR... DECKERSTAR 2nd OPTION:

We could dispense with the whole “she’s growing old and whatever shall we do???” problem, and just have Chloe die doing what she loves best.. protecting somebody in the line of duty. She could be approaching retirement... she and Lucifer could already be having the “I’m starting to look too old to be with you even though you’re dyeing your hair grey... what should we do?” conversation when one day, they are coming out of a fast food joint with the grandkids and bank robbers step out of the bank next door, she yells “LAPD!” they both step in front of the grandkids as she pulls her gun... RayRay shows up one second later… you see where I’m going with this right? Tearful goodbye scene… no rescue this time… Lilith’s ring is empty… this time, it is her human destiny.

After her death, Lucifer would carry her to Heaven to visit her dad and anyone who predeceased her, and then they would travel back and forth together where she would help him redeem souls part of the time in hell. Same outcome as Season 6.

Maybe, since she was a handmade gift from God (via Amenadiel) to start with, God will turn her into an angel and give her matching white luminescent wings so that she can stand beside Lucifer as an equal, and that way, they can also fly to earth now and then for vacations all over the world after all their friends and family members have crossed over (so nobody on earth freaks out from accidentally seeing them again, LoL, but if she outlived everybody anyway... problem solved.) Hey, He’s God, He can do anything, right? ;o)

Along those same lines, in special consideration for all the help and happiness they have brought to Amenadiel and later to Michael, I could also see God and Goddess granting wings and angel status to Linda and Ella so that they can be suitable mates for His sons for their eternity in Heaven, and able to enjoy all of the perks that go along with that… Maybe, if Chloe outlives them all and she is the last to arrive in Heaven, they could even have a little ceremony, where God and Goddess bestow wings and angel status on them all, including Maze and Eve, which might come as a HUGE surprise to Maze, who never dreamed she’s make it to Heaven to begin with.

They could keep the parts where Chloe and Amenadiel work toward cleaning up the LAPD… and we definitely need to hear Tom sing more… a lullaby to his baby… childhood songs when they’re older and of course, show him teaching them the piano and guitar… of course we must have full blown staged musical numbers… maybe have him sing softly to Chloe as she’s sleeping… and/or as she’s dying… it could be amazing. And I loved Bob the Drag Queen… Lux should bring the RuPaul Review and enjoy several of them… they put on a great show!

One more thing... we NEED a making-love scene with Lucifer holding Chloe in his arms while flying! Wings covering everything important, of course, but it is obvious what they’re doing! Joining the mile-high club! How about on the wedding night?!? Whooohooo!!!!! (If Chloe isn’t already pregnant when this wedding night flight happens, maybe this is when Rory is conceived???)

There’s enough there for a movie or about a dozen more episodes of the show... This is only an outline, but but I could write stories myself for some of these ideas… hell, they practically write themselves. Anyway, THAT’S how I would outline a Movie: Lucifer: Revelations… or Lucifer Season 6.66!!!

Now... let’s get busy and do it different this time (with no time travel nonsense and no sadistic torturing DECKERSTAR)! LOL

[wishingforatypewriter]

A Marriage of Inconvenience (Fantasy AU)

Summary: Lady Kinokuni Nene is introduced to her new betrothed, and she is generally unimpressed. (@polar-stars, I tried lol)

Nene stood placidly in front of the tri-fold mirror in her dressing room while her maid fussed with her hair and attire. She wore a gown of black velvet with a broad stripe of silver damask running up the center of the skirt and bodice. Her mother had said the rich garment would remind her new betrothed that he was to marry quality. But Nene, for her part, wondered whether the ruthless scion of the Eizan Bank would know quality if it bit him on the rear end. 

“Lady, you must be pleased,” the maid, Mea, said as she fastened a necklace — a bulbous ruby on a thick silver chain — around Nene’s neck. “So many girls have dreamed of marrying the heir to the Eizan Bank, living a life of ease and comfort.” 

“If anyone dreams of this, they’d do better to remain awake,” she replied monotonously. 

This gave Mea pause, and Nene could tell it was taking her time to decide whether she should feel offended. “Are you not excited to meet your betrothed?” 

“I am resigned to it.” She said this stoically, glancing outside her window at the carriage that would take her to meet her new intended. 

She pulled up in front of the estate nearly an hour later and was received, not by her betrothed or his father, but by a hulking young man with queued dark hair. 

“Your servant, Lady Kinokuni,” he said with a sweeping bow and an air of elegance she would not have expected based on his appearance.

“You must be Subaru,” she said, remembering what she’d had her contacts find out about the Eizans and their associates. “Your reputation precedes you.” 

“As does yours, lady.” Subaru offered his arm, and Nene took it obligingly. As he led her towards the gaudy residence, Nene remembered the tasteful agrarian splendor of the Isshiki family lands and sighed. How far she had fallen. But if she remained steadfast, her household would ascend to greater heights than ever before. “Tell me. What occupies your lord to the extent that he couldn’t be bothered to come out and greet me?”

“Business, lady,” Subaru replied. “There are debts to the bank that go unpaid.”

They had only crossed into the hall when she spotted a young man coming down one side of a double stairwell. He wore a doublet of fine indigo over a stark white shirt, and leather riding boots over gray trousers. 

He wore far too much gold about his person, but at the very least he was handsome—or would have been, were his face not marred by the tempestuous rage of a storm encroaching. 

A man—a small-scale landowner from the looks of him—followed the Eizan heir on hands and knees, begging for mercy. “I have paid the principal balance, lord. But the interest—”

“The interest was part of the deal,” he said, his voice steely as the headsman’s blade. “If you cannot pay it, your lands will be confiscated.”

This made the other man break down even further. He grabbed at Eizan Etsuya’s ankles, head to the ground in supplication. “I beg of you, lord! My children will be out on the street! Just grant me a week more.”

“You will unhand me, cretin,” Eizan said. Then he glanced towards the doors, taking notice of Nene and Subaru for the first time. 

“Mimasaka, there you are. Remove this person from my sight, and gather the men to appraise his assets come morning.” 

“Yes, Lord Eizan.”

At this, the man seemed to be on the brink of a full on apoplexy. It was a more pathetic sight than Nene could bear. Wordlessly, she pulled the ruby from her neck and placed it in the hand of her intended. 

“You needn’t be so barbaric,” she said, shaking her head. “This will more than cover the man’s debt, will it not?”

Eizan scrutinized it with a jeweler’s eye. “It will do.” 

Nodding, Nene made her way over to the small farmer and helped him to his feet. “You may stand, sir. All shall be well.” She placed a gold coin into his hand. 

“Blessed lady,” he said, bowing deeply. “You have my every thanks.” 

“Be on your way. And if it pleases you, remember the House of Kinokuni in your prayers.”

As the man took his leave, Eizan Etsuya glared at her, then turned to Subaru. “You did not mention in your report that she was a woman of kindness and charity.” He spat the virtues out as though they were venomous. 

“I am not,” Nene said, returning his sharp look with one of her own. “These are unstable times. The loyalty of those around us is more valuable than the odd hunk of silver.”

Eizan waved her off. “Bare sentiment.”

“A banker should be familiar with the concept of investment,” she said. “Because of what I did, that man will send his sons and nephews to fight in a war if I ask it. With your approach, he and his would flock to Totsuki and its allies the first chance they got—”

“If Totsuki makes a move—” 

“There is no if. Senzaemon the Great has already married one of his granddaughters to the warlord king in the northlands. He sends emissaries to the Inui queen and her mage consort in the east,” she said, relaying the details of Urara’s latest reports from Totsuki’s capital. “When they march against us, we will need every available man.”  

At this, Eizan Etsuya turned to Subaru, smirking. “Is this why her bride price was so damn high?” 

“Yes, lord. I believe it is a combination of her intellect and family name.” 

He nodded, then, gazing upon her again. “Good. I couldn’t suffer a stupid wife,” he said, smirking. “Is the hall to your liking, Lady Kinokuni?”

“It is not,” she said plainly. “The decor is expensive, but without taste. There’s too much gold and finery in plain sight, a common error of new money. True nobility is more subtle with its wealth.” 

Eizan looked deeply vexed at the statement, as though he wished very much to shout at her. But instead he sighed. “Subaru, have the serving staff change the furnishings this weekend. Ensure that all new pieces are to Lady Kinokuni’s liking.” 

Nene gave a small smirk at this. If nothing else, at least it seemed he could be taught. 

#shokugeki no soma #etsunene #eizan x nene #fantasy au #wow...this ship...I'm kinda feeling it

[nocturnal-jeon]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚁.𝙰. ➛ 𝚓𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔 {1}

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚖𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙. 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚝, 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚁.𝙰. 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚑.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2.2k

_________________________

Your heart pinged at the sight of nuclear families practically killing themselves as they each held a section of their future doctor or future lawyer’s things. They wore smiles of pride and bliss, regardless of the weight of the books and the decorations, as they helped push their loved ones into the next chapter of their lives. 

You, on the other hand, forced your best friend, a short, blonde haired man-child at the name of Jimin, to help you move it. Through an hour-long argument, which mainly consisted of Jimin pouting like the small child he is, you had to be the adult in the room and explain all the geographical reasons why it would make sense for him to help you move in first given the location of your dorm and his. 

But of course, Jimin chose to ignore reason. And you and Jimin ended every argument like you usually did. Flipping a coin. And like most times, it flipped in your favor. The sounds of Jimin’s grunts and pants as the two of you trudged up the stairs caused your eyes to smirk as you glanced over at him. You loved being right. 

A thin sheen of sweat was beginning to pool up on his forehead, the sticky feeling no doubt causing discomfort. The sun was beating down on the old dorm building, placed farthest away from the center of campus. Just your luck. 

The twenty or so years weighing down the old brick building lessened the effects the air conditioning had overtime, which left the air stale and musty. “I can’t even express how much I don’t want to do this,” he panted, nearly throwing himself back down the flight of stairs he just ascended when he realized that there was still another floor to go. 

“Well, I didn’t want to pack up your entire room for you, but see, that’s real friendship,” you chided, a cocky smile on your pink-tinted lips as you readjusted your grip on the boxes in your arms and began walking up the last flight of stairs. Jimin slowly trudged behind.

Using the little flexibility you retained from the years of gymnastics your parents forced you to partake in, you raised your right leg, clothed in thick sweatpants, and pushed on the door, causing it to open. The halls were bustling with students and their families moving to and fro. Some were embracing their loved ones, tears pouring out of their eyes and phrases like ‘I’ll miss you’ being exchanged. Some were happily talking to their roommates and their families.

So many different emotions all condensed into one hallway. 

“Do you know what room number you’re in?” Jimin asked beside you, panting like a dog as his blonde hair stuck to his damp forehead. “Of course I know what room I’m in. Who do you think I am?” you chortled, your eyes scanning the room numbers in pure confusion. Or maybe you didn’t. 

“So, who do I think you are?” Jimin dragged on, a smirk on his lips. “To me, you look like a confused freshman who doesn’t know what room they’re in,” he teased. You shrugged your shoulders. “It just slipped my mind,” you admitted. “Just slipped my mind,” Jimin mocked in a higher pitched voice, his head moving side to side as he spoke. “Go ask your R.A.,” he suggested, bouncing up and down on his knees to regain strength. 

“And how am I supposed to know who that is? I mean, look at all these people,” you said, using the flick of your face to gesture towards the many bodies moving about in the corridor. “Well, if you read, on that door down the hall, in big, bright letters, it says R.A.,” Jimin pointed out, his tone filled with amusement. You followed his gaze and chuckled to yourself when you did, in fact, find said door. 

Rolling your eyes at your best friend, you began dodging people as you passed. “Reading. Remember that? Probably slipped your mind, too,” he muttered, pain shooting through his arms as the weight of your boxes began to strain his muscles. The door was closed and on it was a list of rules and regulations, all seemingly typical of a door belonging to the R.A. 

Balancing the box in your arms on your knee, you placed three quick but powerful knocks to the door before quickly putting your knee back down and holding the box with both hands. You puckered your bottom lip out and blew air out, causing the flow to travel up your face, temporarily cooling it. “Maybe he’s out and about right now,” Jimin impatiently suggested. 

“Maybe you just need to be a little bit more patient,” you instructed, chuckling when you heard a groan escape Jimin’s plump lips. Quickly, the door swung open, the slight breeze it created cooling your hot body. Emerging from the dark room was someone who didn’t fit the description of a typical R.A. 

What stood in front of you was a chiseled, well-built young man. You tilted your head up slightly so you could meet the brown eyes of this stranger. He wore a white t-shirt that pressed against his bare, fair skin, faintly outlining the curves of his muscles. On his legs were sweatpants the same color as yours, tight in all the right places, exposing his meaty thighs. 

And his face. Fuck, his face. His jawline clenched as anger surged through his body, but all it did was make him even more attractive. His forehead was slightly hidden as a small section of his charcoal hair curled over. His hands were comfortably placed in the pockets of his sweats, the veins snaking up and around his forearm like that of a vine against a tree. 

“What do you want?” The stranger’s voice came out strong, deep, and sharp like thousands of knives. You felt small under his judgemental gaze. “Are you the R.A.?” you questioned. He let out a deep, almost condescending chuckle, shocking you. “Did you read the door?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, amused with your stupidity. You ignored the question, posed to make you feel small, and you swallowed the saliva pooling in your throat. 

“I forgot what room number I have and I was wondering if you could remind me,” you snarkily replied, shocked by your tone. Jungkook smirked. He liked girls with a little fire in them. “Give me a second,” he said, reaching with his veined arm towards possibly a table hidden by the wall. Quickly, he pulled a packet of papers towards his face, slightly holding it out so he could see under the yellow light illuminating the hallway. 

His eyes scanned the paper and you noted how he nibbled on the inside of his mouth as he tried to make sense of the words and numbers on the pages. “Wait, you don’t even know her name,” Jimin sighed beside you. Jungkook’s eyes flashed up darkly from the page as he looked straight at Jimin with a cold, hard stare. Within a second, his eyes were on you, the obvious irritation still clearly evident. 

“Well, are you gonna tell me or not?” he grumbled. “Y/n Y/l/n.” His gaze lingered on you for a few more seconds before he looked back down at the pages, the charts and numbers making a bit more sense. You pursed your lips in confusion when he let out a deep groan. “222,” he said, tossing the papers aside on the floor without care. “Do you know where that is?” you inquired, wanting to escape the gaze of this stranger. 

He began to walk into the hallway, giving no fucks about the distance between the two of you. Once you realized that he would keep moving, regardless if you did or not, your sore feet moved aside and you watched as the muscles flexed in his back as he stretched his arms ahead of him. He walked a mere three feet before turning and facing a door, to which he opened and pushed open. 

“Home sweet home,” he said in a not-so-cheery voice. The door, identical in color to the rest on the floor, was right beside his room. You quickly glanced at Jimin who was trying his best to hold in his laughter. 

“Don’t bother me again.” The R.A. sped past you and disappeared into his room, slamming it behind him. “He seemed so sweet and welcoming,” Jimin joked, walking into your room. It was luckily a single. The walls were covered in worn-out bricks and the floor was brown wood. The room wasn’t the largest, but it was just a little bigger than the room you had back home. Home. Well, at Jimin’s house. 

In the right corner was a plain bed, void of any pillows or sheets. Against that same wall was a plain brown desk, a few shelves hanging on the wall above it. On the opposite wall, directly across, was a dresser. And that was your room for the school year. Jimin bent over and placed the boxes on the floor with a huff before standing back up. “I hate this,” he complained, leaning back to stretch his aching back. You chuckled and placed your boxes down beside him. 

Four boxes. Your whole life fit in four boxes. Well, that, and your guitar case, leaning up against the bare wall.

Running his fingers through his hair, Jimin motioned towards the wall you shared with the R.A., whose name you still hadn’t learned. “He seems like fun. He should totally be your first friend,” Jimin advised, practically collapsing on the not-so-comfortable mattress. “I don’t know why he seems so upset. Like, this is the job he signed up for, so,” you explained, kicking off your shoes and sitting next to Jimin on the bed. 

He shrugged. “Just avoid him, then. And if he gives you trouble, call me over,” Jimin said, causing you to laugh. “And what are you going to do? Hm?” you asked, raising your eyebrow. “Hey, I could take him,” Jimin defended, turning to look at you. “You might be able to,” you teased, your mood beginning to mellow out. 

“Can we go start on my dorm now? I’m getting tired but I know I can’t sleep yet,” Jimin requested, not physically nor emotionally ready to begin hauling more boxes. You let out a deep sigh, stretching your legs out in front of you. “I suppose,” you surmised, getting up off of the bed and putting your shoes back on. 

With an attitude identical to Jimin’s when he helped move you in, you carried the seemingly hundreds of boxes to Jimin’s far nicer and spacious dorm. It was in this room that you met Jimin’s roommate Taehyung, who had a large amount of energy and a cute boxy smile. Lucky Jimin already has a nice guy to talk to. But all you had was a small, hot dorm with an asshole for an R.A next door. 

You decided to stay and help Jimin unpack and in the process, you got to know Taehyung a little bit better. He was an acting major who had the cutest dog waiting for him at home. Yes, he showed you pictures. Probably thousands. But just as the natural sunlight outside began to dim, you made the executive decision to go back to your dorm and unpack. 

Jimin hugged you goodbye and promised the two of you, well three of you, including Taehyung, would go get breakfast in the morning. And you agreed. 

You locked the door to your dorm once you returned and you took off your shoes for good, no intention of putting them back on. With sore and exhausted limbs, you reached into the first box and pulled out your simple bedding, messily putting it on the bed. You then proceeded to put your very few clothes away into the dresser, frowning when you saw a rip forming in your favorite shirt. 

And after unpacking some school supplies, you were able to literally collapse on the bed. Your face scrunched up as you felt how uncomfortable it was, but as you stared up at the ceiling, you knew that your back would get used to the discomfort over the course of the year. 

Pulling the covers over your body, you turned to face the wall as you waited impatiently for sleep to overcome you, but you nearly put your head through the wall when you heard banging coming from the opposite wall: the wall you shared with the R.A. 

You turned around and faced that wall as if you could see what object it was, but all you did was listen curiously, trying to figure out what was causing that loud sound. But at the sounds of high pitched moans, you knew immediately what was banging against the wall and what was causing it to. 

Cringing, you turned back around and plugged your fingers in your ears, upset that something you wanted so badly, sleep, would refrain from coming now until it was quiet. 

The moans and banging occurred for what seemed like hours, and just as things began to calm down, you heard an ear-piercing squeal as the mystery woman probably reached her oncoming climax. 

“Jungkook!” 

What a way to learn the R.A.’s name, you thought to yourself. 

______________________

send in some asks and please honestly tell me what you think of this series so far and whether or not i should continue it

#bts #bts reactons #bts imagines #bts fics #bts fanfics #bts series #bts drabbles #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook college au #college au

[patricianandclerk]

Dread Wolf’s Teeth

My Ask | My Ko-Fi | My Ao3 | Dragon Age Discord | Requests always welcome!

1.

The first time Solas saw him, it was plain he was Dalish. His clothes were a deep, forest green, verdantly coloured leathers over dyed linen cloth, and it complemented the Anchor now buried in his palm. This was Solas’ fault, that much was certain, that a young elf should be scarred in such a way…

There were other elements to his clothes, of course.

As Solas undid his jerkin to access his chest, that he might better ensure he had a steady heartbeat, he saw the charms on his person – the young man had Mythal’s vallaslin inked over his forehead and the curves of his cheeks, and he wore one of her charms around his neck, but there were others, too, on chains at his collarbone: June, Sylaise, Falon’din.

He wore wooden beads marked with icons of Ghilan’nain coiled about one wrist, some marked with halla, and on the central piece, made of halla horn, he saw the mark of a woman’s face.

On the other wrist, he wore a few tributes to Andruil. He looked like a hunter, that much was certain, with his light clothes, his muscle, and those icons only confirmed it – worn on his arrow hand, where they were most needed.

The buttons on his jerkin wore Mythal’s symbol, as did the fastenings on his boots, the buckle on his belt. He aligned himself with Mythal, then. Was that a good sign? It was impossible to be sure what it was about Mythal that drew his devotion – what twisted vision did the Dalish hold of her, that they should hold her in such high regard?

He groaned softly, still buried in painful unconsciousness, and Solas saw the glint at his braid, reached for it.

This was a secret thing, worn at the nape of the neck, underneath his hair, and it wasn’t made of silver, like most of the periapts he wore were, but of bone.

Solas’ mouth was dry as he touched the carving dug into the bone, saw the wolf’s eye carved neatly on it – and it was a wolf’s eye, because he saw the way the corner led down toward a lengthened snout, and it matched the other designs he had seen of Fen’Harel in Dalish art and sculpture. Teeth marked the other side of the charm, and Solas thrilled despite himself.

It was wrong of him.

He did his best to set the guilt aside.

It was weeks later, at Haven, that Lavellan told a fascinated Blackwall, “There are a lot of phrases about him. May the Dread Wolf take you – that’s a curse. Dread Wolf’s teeth, an exclamation. May the Dread Wolf never hear your steps – that’s a blessing. May the Dread Wolf ever be at your heels – that’s a curse, too, but May you run like the Dread Wolf is at your heels, that’s a blessing. I always liked that one.”

He said it with a secret smile, and Solas thought of the charm at the nape of his neck, the wolf’s teeth kissing his skin.

2.

Lavellan had refused the armour Cassandra and Cullen had tried to get him to wear. It was elven armour, but it was the armour of city elves, made for elven soldiers, and Lavellan had spared no scorn in refusing it, criticising its every element: how tight it would be at the waist, the hip, the shoulder, how it would restrict his movement, how difficult it would make it to run or to climb.

He had sat down in the smithy himself to discuss Dalish designs – he was confident in what he wanted of the clothes he wore, the armour he wanted, and it was at a stark contrast with how he responded to other demands on his person, merely silent when someone asked some Chantry favour of him.

“Must you— Must the Herald wear those?” Solas had heard Giselle ask of Ambassador Montilyet, who had turned her gaze on Lavellan. Was it his armour that the Chantry Mother referred to? Or was it the charms laden around his neck, upon his wrists?

“Master Lavellan’s wardrobe is his own decision,” Montilyet said stoutly.

“But— His poor feet,” Giselle said, and Solas looked to the Dalish wraps he wore, even in the snow. His feet didn’t freeze or shiver, like a human’s might have.

“You don’t worry for Solas’ feet,” Montilyet pointed out, and Giselle looked to Solas.

Solas smiled at her, and found himself amused where Giselle turned her gaze away from him.

3.

In the hotel room in Val Royeaux, Solas waited with the Iron Bull for Lavellan, Varric, Vivienne, and Pavus to return from the party they’d been moving to… From what Solas had heard, take to pieces.

He heard them laughing as they ascended the stairs, even the so-called Iron Lady, and Solas looked at their finery as they entered into the room, saw Vivienne artfully bow her head so that her hat did not catch on the doorframe, as the Iron Bull had when he’d entered, wearing a gossamer gown of a striking venom green; Pavus wore black robes that bared half of his chest, making the silver buckles and jewellery glitter in the light, and Solas saw the kohl at his eyes, a little of the paint on his lips.

Varric, of course, wore red finery, gold at his ear, around his neck, complementing the colour of his hair, but—

When Solas saw Lavellan, his mouth fell open.

He had painted over his vallaslin with makeup, leaving his handsome face bare and unmarred, and that in itself was beautiful, breathtaking, but the rest… A golden cap curled around one of his ears, the chain dangling a little before it clipped to the lobe, a mirror to the jewellery Dorian wore in his own ear; his suit was made of silken gold with threads of green making silhouettes of leaves and vines amidst the shining cloth, and Pavus was leading him by the land, the two of them laughing as young men should laugh together.

He looked every bit a noble elf, the likes of which Solas had not seen in—

He closed his mouth.

“Solas!” Lavellan said, his eyes alight, his white teeth showing, “Aneth ara – lasa ghilan, vallas—”

“Elvish, Elvish, please!” Pavus cried out, and Lavellan laughed, so easily – he was usually so solemn, but he laughed brightly, now. His cheeks were pink.

“How much drink did you pour into the little elf?” the Iron Bull asked, arching his eyebrows, and Lavellan sat down on a chair, reaching up and touching his face.

“Falas,” Lavellan said, emphasising the word as he looked at Pavus, who stared at him blankly.

“He wants a washcloth,” Solas supplied, and Pavus reached for the jug of water on the side, wetting the cloth. Solas caught his wrist, and Pavus stared at him. Don’t, Solas didn’t let himself say. Let me enjoy him, barefaced, free, for a little longer.

“Tell us of your evening’s adventures,” Solas said. “The Bull and I are on tenterhooks, I am sure.”

Pavus dropped the cloth, delighted.

“Well,” he said, but Solas looked at Lavellan, who was smiling, leaning back in his chair, looking so much as he ought, as elves ought…

Solas wondered what it might be like to kiss his mouth, to feel Lavellan yield under Solas’ lips. Was he wearing the Dread Wolf’s teeth at his neck, even now?

4.

This was Solas’ favourite of Lavellan’s outfits, thus far.

He had stripped every thread from the other man’s body, had drawn the charms from his wrists and his neck. Lavellan’s body was bare of any marks of ownership except the vallaslin on his face, and except—

He reached, tangling a hand in Lavellan’s hair, and Lavellan let out a sharp gasp, grabbing at his forearm, as Solas undid the braid that held the charm in his hair, pulling it free. He looked at it, on its leather ring, examined it.

“What will you strip me of next?” Lavellan asked, without rancour, his thighs spread apart, Solas kneeling between them. “My skin?”

Sola stared at the vallaslin on his face, his lips parted, and then he met Lavellan’s eye. “Perhaps,” he murmured, and Lavellan laughed, breathlessly, tipping back his chin, baring his neck – all the better for Solas’ teeth to bite there.

“Why do you wear Fen’Harel’s mark?” Solas asked, and Lavellan looked at the charm.

“I found it, a long time ago,” Lavellan said lowly. “I liked it. I wore it around my neck, but when the keeper saw it, she was furious. So… I wore it in my hair, instead.”

“An act of rebellion,” Solas said softly, falling forward, the charm still held between his fingers as he framed Lavellan’s body with his own, his mouth almost touching Lavellan’s, their noses brushing together. “Vhenan…”

“Kiss me,” Lavellan said, reaching to touch his cheek, and Sola disobeyed: he bit down hard at the juncture of the other man’s neck, and Lavellan’s moan split the air above their head.

+1

He had been wrong, before.

This was his favourite.

Lavellan was still half-asleep as he padded across the room, glancing at some of the documents on his desk, his legs slightly stiff in their movements, and Solas watched the way his own shirt hung loose on Lavellan’s body, the sleeves a little bit tight at his arms but the main part of the shirt hung loose.

He smelled like Solas, now. Solas could see the marks of his teeth on his neck, his thighs, the insides of his calves, his wrists, but there he was, had chosen to wrap himself up even more in Solas, to pull on Solas’ shirt and move about in it as though it didn’t mae Solas want to drag him back down into bed and never let him leave.

He looked comfortable in it.

“Vhenan,” Solas said, and Lavellan turned to look at him.

“Hm?”

“Come back to bed.”

“Come back to work,” Lavellan replied, and Solas slid forward, loping across the room and throwing his arms about Lavellan’s belly, burying his face in the nape of Lavellan’s neck, letting his teeth touch the skin there. He felt Lavellan shudder.

“It’s past two bells,” Solas murmured. “The world won’t end if you join me in the Fade.”

“It might,” Lavellan said.

Solas’ hand slid lower, and Lavellan hissed.

“Alright,” he said, turning in Solas’ arms and mouthing at the side of his jaw. “You’ve convinced me.” He went for the hem of Solas’ shirt, but Solas caught his wrists as he crowded him back toward the bed.

“No,” he said, ignoring Lavellan’s disbelieving, delighted look. “Wear it.”

He dipped to catch Lavellan under his mouth, an Lavellan gasped, throwing out his hands and fisting them in the sheets.

#as defined by dictionary #solas #lavellan #solavellan #dragon age #fanfic

[dixiesbizarreadventure]

Wolf Children

“When you look into your mother’s eyes, you know that is the purest form of love you can find on this earth.” 

-Mitch Albom

Hosoda’s Wolf Children is a soft-spoken, yet powerful film that I wish I had watched sooner. It has a lot to say, without saying it so feverishly as the other pieces we have analyzed thus far. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and I would be lying if I said it did not make me cry three separate times. 

To begin, although not entirely the focus of my analysis, comes the more obvious themes of identity and discrimination. Hana first notices that her future husband has a stretched-out collar and “doesn’t fit in in a lecture hall”, but she still wants to learn more about him. Hana is a character who is outwardly normal, but is in contrast to most of society in how she handles things. We see this with her anecdote of being taught to smile, and smiling through her father’s funeral. Anyways, she approaches the unnamed Wolf of her dreams, something that most in society would not do because of his appearance. In this, she finds the love of her life, and two beautiful children, showing the audience the rewards that come when one does not hold judgement in their hearts and discriminate against others, how new experiences can be found only when we let go of these societal constraints. The Wolf likely understands that most humans would be terrified of his lycanthropic condition, but he does not generalize Hana, and reveals his true self to her. By having disclosure and trust in one another, ascending societal prejudices against specific identities, these two are able to find something they wouldn’t have been able to otherwise; as we can do in real life. 

On the other hand, we see something less than beautiful in the case of little Ame. After being exposed to human story books, he notices that his group, the wolves, are always portrayed as villains. This brings him sadness and confusion, such an innocent mind can’t grasp that others don’t know that he is a sweet little boy. His tears broke my heart, and surely his mother’s as well, reminding us of the consequences brought forth from such widespread discrimination. Personally, it reminds me of the Doll Tests, which studied the effects of segregation on young black children in the United States. Thankfully, Ame didn’t develop this same sense of inferiority, however, it planted a sense of separation for him to the human world, one that would affect his relationship with his mother. 

In Wolf Children, not only do we see identity explored, but a major theme, and the one that resonated the most with me, was that of the many facets of family. Hana was unable to properly mourn her husband, as he was unceremoniously thrown into a garbage truck, definitely not in accordance with Japanese burial rituals. However, the fact that she needed to provide for her children, the love she had for them and for her husband, picked her up off of her knees, and kept her going. I believe this is a testament to the significance of motherhood, and how bonds this strong can help one weather any storm. The children give her plenty of difficulty and frustration throughout their childhoods, but this never deters Hana from giving them everything she has. Furthermore, it is very interesting to note that although he never truly got to know him, as he died soon after his birth, Ame is a spitting image of his father, both in behavior and looks. A cinematic parallel is seen in their similar hairstyles, and even their plain stretched white shirts. More important than this, however, is the way they both are more in tune with their wolf side than their human one, different from Yuki. Even more serious, and frightening, was Ame’s incident with the crested Kingfisher. He almost drowns catching this bird, and its plumage is similar to the feathers seen around his father’s lifeless body. The point in this is how similar we often are to our parents, for better or for worse, and how we should be aware and conscious of that, so that history does not repeat itself if it isn’t good. 

Lastly, Wolf Children, possibly inadvertently, brings about the discontentment humans feel when they are cramped into urban areas, and how their natural state is that of the pastoral lifestyle. Hana is anxious and constantly disturbed by others in their city home, wondering how she is supposed to continue providing for her children with her limited funds. When they move out to the country, she sees the run-down ruins and almost intuitively knows this is the perfect home for her family. She goes from someone living off of the bare minimum, dependent on money and feeling lost, to someone who is able to provide for herself. Furthermore, Hana had no support in the city, and finds an amazing bond in the country. This all contributes to the fact that although the city may be exciting, one can only find peace if in harmony with nature and with others through this medium. 

#wolf children

[floggingink]

Riverdale, “Chapter Thirty-Eight: As Above, So Below”

Day At Least Seven Solitary Coif: struggling

Alice’s thigh: stunning

Sexy, aesthetic Southside: FP’s jellybean tattoo: incredibly, tenderly sad

Certified pedigree: “I’m glad the Farm opened you up to the possibility of us”: either Alice thought about this to herself, or she (absolutely) asked the rest of her cult what they thought. what they THOUGHT about her sleeping with FP again. “What d’you think, girls?” Alice wine clubbed FP Jones’s dick!

who has more game, FP or Jughead? FP a) is a grown man, b) is oftentimes gainfully employed (I’ve forgotten if he’s employed right now), c) is strong enough to carry a high school boy out of the woods, d) was VERY smooth with his seemingly instinctual “Then don’t. Tell him,” e) did that thing where he took the gum out of his mouth when Alice came to his trailer, and f) looked pretty good in his crisp Pop’s uniform when he was employed at Pop’s. however FP also a) tends to drink when not employed and b) is fucking obsessed with Toledo, a town I will burn to the ground if I ever set foot in it. meanwhile, Jughead a) climbed up a fucking ladder to Betty’s bedroom, b) ABSOLUTELY KILLED IT when he and Betty almost fucked each other in the kitchen, c) KILLED IT AND BURIED IT in the moments before fucking her on the couch when he was all, “Or you could stay,” and fucking touched her dress like she was an angel of the Lord and he was just a humble shepherd boy whose eyes were not worthy to gaze upon her countenance, d) only strategically removes his hat, and e) rides a motorcycle. the hat is not a con, necessarily, and being a writer in high school is a cross some of us simply have to bear, but he is like, kind of a pain sometimes and a little squirrelly, but w/r/t the love of his life, he has tailored himself to her every need almost perfectly

OH AND I FORGOT WHEN HE KISSED HER SCABBY BLOOD KNUCKLES! OH SHIT!

Veronica has the most game on the entire show

I like when they have Jughead use words like “modicum”

“Ben’s death haunts me, Jug. He didn’t scream. Why not, I wonder?”: writing credits this episode go to Daphne de Maurier

YYEEEAAAAAHHH THE BLUE & GOLD CRIME BOARD BABY

I would almost expect something more from the warden’s tie, except that I know plain clothing is, in and of itself, a warning sign

anything that gets Veronica in her reading glasses is okay by me, and this includes Pop’s hemorrhaging money

Jughead can wear just a T-shirt sans jacket or flannel any old time he wants, I’m just putting that vibe out there

“Of course we’re calling it a speakeasy.”

Jug’s suspender game is strong, so really Betty should know she has nothing to worry about

his stupid dumb round face looking at her when she pulls him aside is pretty. remember when he kissed her hands? fucking Jughead sometimes, dude

“Evelyn...creeps me out.”

I like Betty’s overalls and Evelyn’s romper thing

what I expected when Kevin dialed the phone was for the whole booth to sink into the basement like a surprise elevator

Kander and Ebb wrote the music to, among much else, Cabaret and Chicago, those being some of their most gay

I LOVE VERONICA’S WHITE SHIRT. IT’S JUST A FUCKING PLAIN WHITE SHIRT, SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL

Every triangle has three corners, every triangle has three sides: is there some heat between Veronica and Reggie? am I crazy?

the foursome of Reg, Ronnie, Josie, and Kev is basically just as strong as the cour four strictly in terms of hair

I don’t know that I like Penny’s sleeveless Ghoulies vest more than her leather Serpents jacket but I do know I like it at least the same amount (oodles)

Fwoopy hair is the best hair: Day One Lifted Bag Off Head Hair: GREAT

OH MY GOD, JOAQUIN!!!! WHEN WILL JOAQUIN REST. DOES EVERY TERRIBLE THING HAVE TO HAPPEN TO JOAQUIN BEFORE IT HAPPENS TO SOMEONE ELSE. IS JOAQUIN IN THE FARM

does Archie have a scar on his head? is it KJ’s? have I lost track of something?

Gay?!: BABY TEETH is an absolute twink and he was tapped to save his life

I’m suspicious of Peter because his name is, simply, “Peter”

Gay.: Cheryl and Toni are just like lounging in a single chair together and that’s the bisexual agenda

Veronica was rich: Veronica’s heavy card stock IS very nice

Ethel’s cute yellow cardigan is back, which matches her thermos and lunchbox

I enjoyed when Betty sits down and you think she’s going to apologize for being there at Ben’s death but instead she just fucking grills Ethel some more

“...G&G.”

OOOOOOHHHHHHH JUGHEAD’S TURNING IT ON WITH THAT PRINCESS SHIT

Please protect Betty: Betty’s entire expression at being told she’s “not worthy,” God bless her

The female gaze: I don’t know why Reggie’s shirt is off. probably Reggie doesn’t even know

Reggie’s panicked JJ face is one of the top five panicked faces of all time. he’s tied at least with the girl in Jurassic Park when she sees the raptor shadow and her hand holding that green Jell-O starts shaking

Minetta doesn’t even pretend he’s looking for something other than whatever was in those boxes. cold, Minetta

REGGIE’S SALUTE

Reg simply being aware that Minetta and the Ghoulies work for Hiram almost brings me to tears. not only is he a walking sculpture with a pair of lips that would make Sarah Steller throw herself off the Hoover Dam, but he is also a genius

VERONICA IS SO BEAUTIFUL. “Not until I’m properly armed.” just look at her!

Ethel didn’t even come to the first meeting of the Farm Club? cold, Ethel

Evelyn offering Betty a pizza slice comes off as her genuinely wanting Betty to have a piece of pizza if she wants, which is the first non-creepy thing she’s done (Jughead would take the pizza)

she of course follows this up with “that darn medication”

Archie looks like a corpse in the blue light

tell me “wakey, wakey” is a Kill Bill reference. TELL ME IT IS

the guy they have fighting Archie looks just enough like Khabib Nurmagomedov that I was like, is this an unconscious wish on someone’s part to do a rematch of red-haired McGregor vs. Khabib except it’s on Riverdale so it’s in something called “the Pit” which is a drained swimming pool and they’re in juvie? (it’d have to be a fantasy in that Conor McGregor would get his ass beaten by Khabib Nurmagomedov in any rematch in any universe, in the universe)

dude does his best but, as Sweet Pea and Vintage Reggie can tell you, you cannot let Archie land a) a right hook or b) an uppercut or he will end this fight

who’re the rando white women watching? their fucking wives? goddammit, white women

I think Baby Teeth could take Reggie jawline-to-jawline

Veronica’s kittenish heels sinking into the dirt as opposed to her striding effortlessly as Moses parting the Red Sea

Cheryl’s a chaos angel from hell: “THAT VIPER BITCH”

Antoinette Topaz is fluent in many languages, including Veronica’s

God bless jingle-jangle: the fucking cat burglar sequence set to “Jingle Jangle” just about fucking did it

Ethel’s candle game is reaching midnight mass-levels of mastery

so did Betty and Jughead get their ad hoc sex den (good band name) out of the bunker before Ethel got there? or was it there the whole time but for Ben and Ethel?

I feel I want to write down that Ben abandoned Ethel to ascend prematurely with Dilton otherwise I’ll forget and will be tricked by something later on

POLLY’S KNITTED HALTER

closed captioning capitalized the Shady Man, the second strangest Riverdale skull

Alice really just did Betty like that! maybe Betty DOES need to live in a bunker

50 Shades of Betty: “The wig. The webcaming.”

I love how Betty always gets very sarcastically OH, OKAY THEN when she decides to start laying out some truths

Alice stands up and her dress has some sort of insane asymmetrical hemline and she’s also got an ankle bracelet!!!!!!

Dilton Doiley Ethel Muggs is a canonically great dancer the DM: Ethel’s little crush on Jughead circa his birthday party has not abated. even when he was being insane about the Serpents I bet she entertained sweet fantasies of buying a pleather jacket off ModCloth and Jughead “inducting” her. so she found herself a coterie of pliable boys who were also gangly and weird and obsessed with details and pacts and she became their princess. so THERE. you fucking bet she’s gonna get a kiss out of Jughead before she fucking poisons herself

Ethel’s dungeon master voice is giving me a sort of ASMR vibe

I don’t want to veer too wildly but she is wearing a crown, her character has “a crown”

dog, was she about to kill Jughead right then and there? Ethel goes hard. Ethel might go harder than Jughead

“You’re asking me to play Russian roulette!” “I’m asking you to play Gryphons and Gargoyles.” THIS BITCH (in context it’s very smooth and bitchy)

GOD BUT JUGHEAD DID DRINK IT. VERY WELL KNOWINGLY, HE DID IT

Jughead eats: Salud is just the sort of thing I’d expect Jug to say before maybe drinking cyanide (or skol, if he had been watching Ingmar Bergman)

I don’t know if I could drink that much Kool-Aid that fast. Kool-Aid and Sunny D always made my teeth feel filmy. I could definitely down that much Capri Sun, if it were in a pouch the size of my shin

anyway Ethel’s sick move telling Jughead he has to kiss her first got an emotional reaction from me at almost the level of when Cheryl came down to Jason’s wake in that white dress

Jughead and Ethel are almost of a height, which is weirdly lovely

These students are legally children: maybe Ethel put the poison in after Jughead had chosen. I maybe doubt she would’ve just fucking assassinated Jughead

Jughead was reading next to her when she woke up, which is just a specific kind of daydream you have, sometimes

Sixth period is Intro to Film: HEISENBURG

Toni’s pictures are certainly shot with a mind to lighting, depth

is blue light the light of evil? Hiram’s study, the warden’s office?

Archie > Dawson: of course Archie imagines talking to his father and of course he imagines his father telling him to “take one.” I love Self-Sacrificial Lamb Archie (or just momentarily self-sacrificing). better than Fascist Archie!

well, Betty’s room has blue light too. fucking forget it then

although she is SURROUNDED BY EVIL at all times

Mädchen Amick, MÄDCHEN AMICK: “I trust them more than I trust you” is season one-level Alice-shade

Cheryl’s sheaths: I like very much Cheryl’s bosomy sequin thing and Toni’s back jewelry

I also like the RROTC boys in their like WWII uniforms, which may be anachronistic but still hard vintage, and the cigar girls

Jughead doubts it: there’s so much going on when Betty goes all melty and wipes some of the Fresh-Aid off Jug’s lips and Jug, who is not smiling, looks at Sweet Pea helping Veronica

Best costume bit: Veronica is in magenta, because I deserve it

I can’t wholly endorse Reggie’s non-black plaid trousers paired with a solid black blazer but I CAN endorse Reggie as a whole

Cheryl’s Hiram’s pins: I think Hiram has a fucking octopus pin! I think it is!!!!!!!!

the wallpaper behind Hiram downstairs is...interesting. it’s like a cutout from that Disney cartoon for “Winter Wonderland”

we stay on Veronica’s face for sort of an extra beat, so I can confirm a) she’s still beautiful and b) she has a sparkly thing in her hair

The 2001 Josie and the Pussycats movie was a masterpiece: Josie’s got that thing going on where you gem up the part in your hair

God I love a good Riverdale music/mayhem montage. like what were they playing when Jughead ran the gauntlet? fuck sometimes this stuff is just still so good (“Mess Around” when Reggie lunged for Jughead also counts, though not performed live somewhere else in Riverdale at the same moment)

“Anything Goes” is in fact not Kander and Ebb but Cole Porter

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: I love a good bead of bloody spit dangling from someone’s mouth during a slow-mo fight sequence

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: “THAT KID…..IS A STAR.”

that fucking rum, can you believe it? the fucking shade of it all

Fifth period is AP English: OH MY GOD. THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO. OH MY GOD, THE FUCKING HAMMER. THE COUNT OF MONTE MOTHERFUCKING GODDAMN YES GOD HOLY BITCH

“Damn good coffee”: the goddamn shot of FP and Alice standing together flanked by the flames of their righteous destruction of the G&G manual

Summer + Blair = Veronica: Veronica is pretty fucking brave to still be living in Hiram Lodge’s HOUSE. and of course that’s what her dressing gown looks like

oh my god, Joaquin is still alive? Joaquin’s STILL HERE?

ARCHIE’S GONNA BREAK OUT OF PRISON AND I MUST CLEANSE MYSELF OF SIN TO BE WORTHY OF ITS GLORY (I trust Riverdale a lot more again at the moment)

so wait, Jughead put the cot BACK? are these two different bunkers? is it the same effing bunker???

“It’s over”: you fucking fool

yes, it’s the same goddamn bunker. the candles are still there! I guess I thought the wicked juju from Ethel’s ~SUICIDE ATTEMPT~ would deter the two of them from FUCKING IN THE EXACT SAME BUNKER but Betty and Jughead literally do not give a single damn where they do it

Jug’s headphones!!!!!!!!!

Cheryl’s expression at reading the G&G manual is appropriately be-Blossomed

The Blossom spawn: she still has a photo of Jason in her locker and I think a sticker that says “Literally no one cares”

What damn high school in America: those manuals have a QR code on the back, so you can play on your phone! GIVE ME THE APP, RAS

who unsheathed Ethel? LORD, WHO LET HER LOOSE?

GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

NEXT WEEK: Camila Mendes wears glasses the entire time

#riverdale #i say #commentary #tropes

[bewarethelivingwra]

Thunder Bluff (Hiacinth/Rae)

Hiacinth, a female Tauren of middle-ish age, grunted softly, unaccustomed to her added bulk as she knelt beside the pool on the main rise of the tauren capital of Thunder Bluff. She was rinsing out one of the shirts her mate, Rae, wore under her armor, everything else having been taken care of.

“Ya know, in ya condition, ya shouldn't be doin that,” she heard Rae admonish, and Hiacinth groaned.

“You know I am perfectly capable of washing a few things,” Hiacinth grumbled in her soft, maternal voice, tinged slightly with irritation. As much as she loved Rae, and had for years, the Darkspear did get under her skin very, very easily. And Rae knew it. And she exploited it every chance she got. Rae knelt beside her and Hiacinth expected a tug of war over her own clothing, but was surprised to feel the weight of one of Rae's hands on her shoulder. “You know, you are not the pregnant one here. You should be reporting for duty.”

Rae smirked behind small tusks, tossing her white hair back over her shoulder. “And miss ya grumpiness?” she quipped. Before Hiacinth could groan again, Rae rubbed her shoulders. “Ya know I be kiddin. Just wanna enjoy the glow as long as I can before they send me out an try an kill me again.”

Hiacinth shook her head, unbraided pale brown mane rustling with the motion before she dipped the shirt one more time and wringing it out.

“You always return,” Hiacinth said. “We always returned.” Rae smiled again.

“That we do, that we do,” she said. She smiled up at Rae, but the sweet moment was interrupted by sounds coming from the direction of the lifts that brought folks up from Mulgore into the rises of the tauren capital. Both turned to see a few guards rushing towards the lift as a male orc staggered off the platform, his expression shifting to relief as he heaved a sigh and fell to his knees, his hand clutching his abdomen. He was assisted back to his feet by a couple of Bluffwatchers – Thunder Bluff guards that roamed each rise in case of trouble. Hiacinth rushed over, Rae audibly scowling behind her for going too quickly in her condition, but Hiacinth brushed it off. She could see easily with her keen vision that this fellow needed assistance and pretty quickly.

“I am a healer,” she told the Bluffwatchers who flanked the fellow who seemed on the verge of consciousness. She could see he held a wad of cloth to a wound that had apparently been going for some time, as the cloth was saturated. “What happened here?”

“Stabbed,” was all he managed to get out, wincing in pain. Hiacinth nodded with sympathy, looking up at the Bluffwatchers that propped him on his feet.

“The inn is closer than our hut,” she said. “I can help there.” One nodded, and both assisted the orc, who had closed his eyes and just allowed them to guide him, as they made the short trek to the inn, Hiacinth and Rae both following. Rae had paused for a moment to pick something up before joining her in the inn.

“It would be more comfortable if you can make it up this ramp,” one of the Bluffwatchers said quietly to the orc, who nodded, his eyes still closed.

“I've had space up there, yes,” he managed to get out between gasps. Hiacinth found herself a bit perplexed by how amicable he managed to sound when in obvious pain. One guard helped him upstairs and into a bed that had a few items near it that Hiacinth assumed belonged to the orc. Funny, she hadn't seen an orc staying here recently. She thanked the Bluffwatchers for their assistance, and the orc nodded his thanks as well, wincing as he settled into the bed.

“I am going to need to take a look,” Hiacinth said. Rae had been trying to get her attention, but she waved her off. “You can wait, Rae,” she added as he lifted the cloth, revealing a rather nasty slash as well as a deeper wound. Rae took the cloth from her as Hiacinth rested her hands just above, closing her pale eyes, drawing strength. With how bad it looked, she was amazed he had managed to stand on the lift, let alone walk from...where did he walk from? She shook her head to clear it so she could concentrate fully on closing the wound.

He let out a slight hiss as the slow, but methodical magic worked to stitch his skin back together. Hiacinth opened her eyes then, to see how much further she needed to go, and took note of how many scars were visible just on his exposed chest alone. They weren't the usual she had seen on orcs in the battlefield, some often with marks leftover from days in internment, but more random. She pulled her hands back, setting them in her lap as she rested more comfortably on her haunches and regarded him. He swallowed hard and nodded, managing a soft, “thank you.” She nodded in return.

“Rest now,” she said. “So long as you can say the threat that got you is not nearby, we can save the questions for later.” He nodded again, and Hiacinth smiled, taking a blanket from another bed in the room to cover him. “Until morning then,” but he was already asleep. When she pulled the blanket up fully, she took notice of other marks, smaller ones that looked like bites clustered around his right shoulder and neck. What had this fellow been up to?

When she turned to look at Rae, the expression on her love's face was wry. She held a piece of parchment in one of her hands, bloodied and torn, but somewhat readable.

“We got a problem here,” Rae said softly, nodding toward the ramp.

“I intend to stay in case he wakes,” Hiacinth said. “Make sure he is stable.”

“Why you? I could do it.” Hiacinth shook her head.

“I sleep more lightly than you. Besides, the beds here are comfortable. You and I discovered that before,” she added, knowing her pale eyes twinkled as she smiled at Rae, who let out a soft laugh, shaking her own head now.

“Send for me then when he wakes,” she said, putting the parchment in Hiacinth's larger hand. “I wanna know the explanation for this.” Rae kissed Hiacinth's cheek before going to likely collect the washing and head back to their home. It wasn't until she was gone that Hiacinth breathed a sigh of relief and sat on the other bed to peer down at the parchment.

She knew that script before she even saw it signed at the bottom. She had seen the same handwriting weeks ago when she had written to make sure they knew she and her family had made it safely from the battle in Lordaeron.

How did this fellow know Juel?

* * *

Rae hadn't slept worth a damn that night. She had seen the letter, that handwriting, and found herself wide awake with worry. Juel had had run ins with orcs previously, and both she and Hiacinth knew things had gone horribly awry before. The little she had gathered from looking over the letter on the walk to the inn, however, kept her thinking into the wee hours, only allowing her a brief rest before the sun rose over the bluffs to signal the start of the day. She washed up, rebraided her hair, and got dressed to return to the inn to get some answers. She threw her head back high before ascending the ramp to find them both awake. Hiacinth looked surprisingly rested for the events that had happened, and had a warm basin of water and a sponge nearby.

“You will likely need more to wear. Had to cut the shirt below your leathers so as not to move you so much. Do you have anything with you?” she asked as she dropped the sponge back into the water and shook out her hands. He nodded toward the bag on the floor, closest to the bed, groaning as he sat up. “It will still hurt for a while, but you are not in imminent danger any longer.”

“Good, den mebbe we can talk,” Rae said from the top of the ramp, surprising them both. She walked quickly, with purpose toward the bed Hiacinth had used, where the letter rested. Rae picked it up, taking note of the shift in his expression as she held it, sitting on the bed.

“Where did you get that?” he asked, sounding irritated. “Did you go through my things?”

“Fell out of your bag when you were led to the inn,” Rae said. “First, who ya be? How you know her?”

“Now is not the time,” Hiacinth said, finding a shirt for him from his bag and tossing it to him. He pulled it on slowly, the soreness still obvious. Rae noted the scarring he had, including the small ones around his right shoulder as he pulled on the clean shirt, and she blinked.

“Dese aren't hard questions,” Rae said quietly, trying to sound less accusatory, but she recalled the expression on the Forsaken's face when they were there together, taking back the city of Orgrimmar from that tyrant Garrosh, the horror plain on her face as they made their way into the Cleft of Shadow to see so many dead, so many Rae knew she had considered friends, one she had considered a lover, even though Rae was certain there was no love involved there, at least on his end. She and Hiacinth had been the ones to nudge her on to continue, to make her friends' lives count by doing in the one who had turned on them in his madness. Rae shook her head to clear it, turning back toward the orc, trying to keep her expression neutral and failing. “And I gotta feelin ya have plenty of answers. For ya sake, I hope dey the right ones.” (With Permission from @grusta-wra)

[scotianostra]

November 10th 1871 saw the Journalist Henry M Stanley find the missing Scottish missionary David Livingstone with the classic "Dr Livingstone, I presume?"

David Livingstone arrived in Africa in 1840 with two goals: to explore the continent and to end the slave trade .Back home his writings and lectures ignited the public's imagination and elevated Livingstone to the status of a national hero. In 1864 Livingstone returned to Africa and mounted an expedition through the central portion of the continent with the objective of discovering the source of the Nile River. As months stretched into years, little was heard from the explorer. Rumours spread that Livingstone was being held captive or was lost or dead. Newspapers headlined the question "Where is Livingstone?" while the public clamoured for information on the whereabouts of their national hero.

By 1871, the ruckus had crossed to the shores of America and inspired James Gordon Bennett Jr, himself a second generation Scots-American, and publisher of the New York Herald, to commission newspaper reporter Henry Stanley to find Livingstone. 

Leading an expedition of approximately 200 men, Stanley headed into the interior from the eastern shore of Africa on March 21, 1871. After nearly eight months he found Livingstone in Ujiji, a small village on the shore of Lake Tanganyika on November 10, 1871.

There is nothing better than the first hand eye witness accounts of history and Stanley being an adept reporter meticulously wrote everything down, the following is his account on finding Livingstone.

"We push on rapidly. We halt at a little brook, then ascend the long slope of a naked ridge, the very last of the myriads we have crossed. We arrive at the summit, travel across, and arrive at its western rim, and Ujiji is below us, embowered in the palms, only five hundred yards from us! At this grand moment we do not think of the hundreds of miles we have marched, of the hundreds of hills that we have ascended and descended, of the many forests we have traversed, of the jungles and thickets that annoyed us, of the fervid salt plains that blistered our feet, of the hot suns that scorched us, nor the dangers and difficulties now happily surmounted. Our hearts and our feelings are with our eyes, as we peer into the palms and try to make out in which hut or house lives the white man with the grey beard we heard about on the Malagarazi.

We are now about three hundred yards from the village of Ujiji, and the crowds are dense about me. Suddenly I hear a voice on my right say, 'Good morning, sir!'

Startled at hearing this greeting in the midst of such a crowd of black people, I turn sharply around in search of the man, and see him at my side, with the blackest of faces, but animated and joyous, - a man dressed in a long white shirt, with a turban of American sheeting around his woolly head, and I ask, 'Who the mischief are you?'

'I am Susi, the servant of Dr. Livingstone,' said he, smiling, and showing a gleaming row of teeth.

'What! Is Doctor. Livingstone here?' 'Yes, Sir.' 'In this village?'

'Yes, Sir'

'Are you sure?'

'Sure, sure, Sir. Why, I leave him just now.'

In the meantime the head of the expedition had halted, and Selim said to me: 'I see the Doctor, Sir. Oh, what an old man! He has got a white beard.' My heart beats fast, but I must not let my face betray my emotions, lest it shall detract from the dignity of a white man appearing under such extraordinary circumstances.

So I did that which I thought was most dignified. I pushed back the crowds, and, passing from the rear, walked down a living avenue of people until I came in front of the semicircle of Arabs, in the front of which stood the white man with the grey beard. As I advanced slowly toward him I noticed he was pale, looked wearied, had a grey beard, wore a bluish cap with a faded gold band round it, had on a red-sleeved waistcoat and a pair of grey tweed trousers. I would have run to him, only I was a coward in the presence of such a mob, - would have embraced him, only, he being an Englishman, I did not know how he would receive me; so I did what cowardice and false pride suggested was the best thing, - walked deliberately to him, took off my hat, and said,

'Dr. Livingstone, I presume?'

'Yes,' said he, with a kind smile, lifting his cap slightly.

I replace my hat on my head and he puts on his cap, and we both grasp hands, and I then say aloud, 'I thank God, Doctor, I have been permitted to see you.' He answered, 'I feel thankful that I am here to welcome you.'

Should you pick up on the "being an Englishman" words remember these were Stanley's words, and he really should have known better, he himself was from Wales originally, leaving when he was just 15 to make his way to the USA.

Stanley joined Livingstone in exploring the region, finding that there was no connection between Lake Tanganyika and the Nile. On his return, he wrote a book about his experiences: How I Found Livingstone; travels, adventures, and discoveries in Central Africa.

#scottish #welsh #usa #exploration #africa #history