#man i am on such a good run with the classics lately

[lurkingshan]

Kinou nani tabeta/What Did You Eat Yesterday?

You should know that I attempted to start this write up about half a dozen times before I managed to get a single word down. Every time I tried I just ended up staring at the wall. I don’t think I’ve been this emotionally stunned by a show since I Told Sunset About You, and I don’t say that lightly!

So, is this a good show? My god, YES. What an understatement. Let me tell you, as my MDL can attest, I’ve watched nearly 300 dramas. I’m sure I’ve watched even more Western shows since I had a 30 year head start on those. And I can say confidently that I’ve never seen anything quite like this gem.

Kinou nani tabeta, or What Did You Eat Yesterday?, is a drama about two middle aged gay men living their everyday lives, making and sharing food, reckoning with their identities and expectations, and figuring out how to be together in a long term relationship. That’s it, that’s the show. If that sounds boring to you, I gotta tell you: YOU ARE WRONG.

We meet Shiro and Kenji when they’re in their mid 40s and already a couple years into living together. Over the course of the show, we learn more about their relationship - how they got together, how they differ, where they struggle, where they shine, what they are still figuring out - and we see them work through it all, together. We see them at work, with friends, with their families, out in public, and in the privacy of their own home - we get a full and complete picture of their lives. And we are invited in to experience it with them and get up close and personal with their relationship in a way that feels both cozy and thrilling.

Now, I am not going to go into detail about everything that happens in this show, or attempt to provide deep analysis about its story, its characters, or the various cultures it depicts. This show was released in 2019, the manga began its run many years before that, and there are folks on this website - like @isaksbestpillow and @bengiyo - who have been at this a hell of a long time and thus have a broader context and lived experience from which to critically examine the show and its messages as they relate to Japanese familial values, life as a queer man from an older generation, and building community while living in a culture that is actively hostile to who you are. I implore you to go read their thoughts and learn from their wisdom. But what I will do is mention a couple (3… no 4, okay 5!) things that really made it stand out to me, a lifelong romance reader, avid media consumer, and drama enjoyer (I’m going to keep plot stuff vague because I hope if you’re reading this, you will be watching very soon!):

Let me repeat: this is a drama about a middle aged couple in a long term relationship, and the ongoing growth and deepening of their relationship is the main plot. Do I have to tell you how unique that is? The romance genre is rarely interested in what happens after the couple gets together, and even in other dramas featuring a couple in a LTR, the plot is usually about something else with the relationship in the background. And I’m fairly sure this is the only show of this nature in the entire bl genre (@absolutebl please fact check me if I’m wrong). In this show, the relationship is the point. It’s a rare look at what it actually takes to learn to deal with your baggage and share your life with someone, and I found it deeply moving.

My god these actors. With all due respect to the many fine actors in the bl industry, these two are on another level. We just never get to see seasoned actors of this caliber headlining ql dramas. If I have one tiny critique of this show, it’s that I found the moments when they let us listen in on the characters’ internal monologues mostly unnecessary - every emotional beat played out in their faces and body language. There’s this one scene I can’t stop thinking about, where the main pair are fighting, and one of them says something he doesn’t mean, and you see the regret on his face instantly, followed by a quick aborted movement as if to take it back, but his partner has already turned away and doesn’t see it. Just perfection. And the acting was so good in the finale (@waitmyturtles informed me my absolute fav moment was improvised for fucks sake) that it actually laid me out for like an hour, I was just sitting there in a crying daze.

The writing is so fucking smart. What’s absolutely brilliant about this show is that it’s structured like an episodic slice of life drama, but there is a deeper long term emotional arc at play and the writers forget nothing. Just like in life, in each episode something will happen, it won’t really get fully resolved, and the characters will move on. But on this show, it always comes back around, usually when your guard is down and they can inflict maximum damage by sucker punching you right in the solar plexus. I can hardly believe how many times this show managed to sneak attack me with emotional realness (official Shan cry count: 8/12 episodes caused me to burst into tears, sometimes more than once).

This show will take you through every possible destination on the spectrum of human emotion. I was so emotional while watching this show, in every sense. Crying both happy and sad tears. Swinging wildly between giddy delight, deep sadness, low key anger, and belly laughing. Sometimes the switch happens literally one scene to the next! And yet, there is an evenness to the tone and assuredness to the filmmaking that makes it all feel smooth. You never feel jerked around by the narrative. This is a credit to the writing, acting, and editing all coming together with perfect precision. The people who made this show are masters of their crafts.

OBVIOUSLY I MUST MENTION THE FOOD. Every episode of this show features at least one instance of a character making Japanese food that looks like the best thing you’ve never gotten the chance to eat. I do not recommended watching this without feeding yourself first, because it will have you salivating. And they don’t just show you the characters making the food (even narrating the recipes for you!), they always show you the characters actually eating and enjoying it. Some real foodies were involved in this production and as someone who loves to eat and absolutely was raised to view feeding people as a love language, I loved it.

So now that you are obviously dying to watch it, you must be wondering: where can I find this show? Let me point you to this post on @kinounaniresource, where the amazing Siiri has compiled all the video files and English subs you need. If you’re not familiar with how to use these, you’ll find instructions on her blog (if you get confused come ask me, please don’t bug her about it). I know sometimes shows being a little hard to access is a big deterrent to watching them, but please trust me that this is absolutely worth your time and effort, you will not regret it.

#kinou nani tabeta #what did you eat yesterday? #japanese bl #jdrama #man i am on such a good run with the classics lately #shan recommends #shan shouts into the void

[withloveajaxx]

are you forgetting something?

𓂅 genre: modern! childe, scaramouche, diluc, and xiao x gn! reader fluff

𓂅 warnings: none 

𓂅 summary: how they react when you forget to kiss them or say "i love you" back to them before you leave 

𓂅 notes: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONEE. here's some smol hcs to kick off 2023 hehe. i've never really written for scaramouche before so forgive me if his characterization is a little off for this fic :"D i'm trying to slowly get back into writing for genshin so i'm going with a classic, fluffy crack prompt that i've always felt like writing ^^ hope you guys enjoy and have a wonderful day ahead!! 

CHILDE

he's dropping you off at your friend's house for your little night out and your rushing to belatedly make yourself a little more presentable 

childe can't help but chuckle when you turn to him asking, "what do you think? do i look alright?" 

"you look beautiful as always, love. now go get in there before your late."

he leans his cheek closer to you, expecting a goodbye peck when you open the door to get out. "take care and call me when you need to get picked up, alright?" when you hum in response he adds, "love you!" 

"yup! see you, ajax!" you reply, getting out and shutting the door. at this, childe is offended, jaw dropping at the lack of a reply and a kiss. 

he thinks this is completely unacceptable. mans literally honks his horn aggressively until you come back to the car, brows furrowed in wordless confusion. 

"excuse me?" he questions you, rolling down the window with a faux pout on his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest. "are you forgetting something?" 

cheeky bastard taps his cheek with raised brows in part question and part demand. "i said i love you too, you know?" 

you can't help but laugh at his absurd behaviour, leaning into the window to finally plant a kiss on his awaiting cheek. his charming smile finally makes its way back onto his features when you accompany your gesture with a, "love you too." 

"mhm. now get in there and have fun. i'll see you later, love.". he can't help the slight blush that dusts his freckle filled cheeks when you peck him one last time, just for good measure, before heading inside the house. god he was so whipped for you. 

SCARAMOUCHE

when you're rushing to leave your shared apartment for a class you were running late for one day, scara is suffering on the couch with his laptop on, research document open and empty. 

he eyes you as you're rushing to gather all your bags and other belongings, making sure you don't trip or hurt yourself in a rush from a distance. 

once you finally have all your things, you turn to see scara, who is already glaring at the blank document on his laptop. 

in usual fashion, he hears you greet him a goodbye with, "i'm heading out now. see you later, kuni." 

in an unusual fashion however, he doesn't hear the familiar and cheerful "i love you!" that escapes your lips once you open the door. 

he coughs loudly and repeatedly when you put even a single foot out the door and levels you with a look that screams "are you stupid?" 

"what?" you ask him obliviously, rechecking all your bags and documents before also asking, "am i forgetting something?"

"yeah. a really important thing," he comments with an unreadably, deadpan face. when a confused silence is all he gets in reply, he sighs, narrowing his eyes at you with a light blush blooming across his cheeks.

"don't make me say it.". it's only then that you realize what you forgot, smiling and laughing lightheartedly with amusement. 

"you're cute kuni." his cheeks flush brighter at the statement. "i love you and take care!". he returns your greeting with an exasparated sigh and a light nod before you go rushing out the door, unable to witness the smallest smile that creeps onto his lips.

DILUC

it's a daily routine for you guys to get ready for school/work together and greet each other with a goodbye kiss once you part ways. 

on a particular day when you had a really important presentation, the walk to your usual parting point was enveloped in a comfortable silence. 

diluc simply held your hand and let you practice your presentation, muttering unintelligible words and phrases under your breath. 

when you finally get to parting ways, diluc takes a moment to encourage you for your presentation. 

"good luck with your speech today, darling. i know you can do it. i'll see you when i get home alright?"

you nod absentmindedly, smiling before routinely pecking diluc's cheek. "mhm. have a good day, luc." 

when you start to walk away, he grabs your wrist gently and unexpectedly, turning you to face him once more. 

"yes, luc?" you ask curiously, intertwining your fingers with his own gingerly. 

"you're forgetting something, love," he chuckles lightly, squeezing your intertwined hands gently. "i love you." 

a soft smile adorns both your features as you give diluc a lingering kiss before replying with your own "i love you", regrettingly parting ways afterwards. 

XIAO

both you and xiao are walking into the school's campus. after a mundane lunch, it was time for both of you to part ways and get to classes. 

he accompanies you to your class, walking with you hand in hand in the school's surprisingly free hallways.

the short stroll is accompanied by a comfortable silence, the lack of a crowd of students creating a peaceful atmosphere. 

it's only when you arrive at your lecture hall that xiao loosens his hold on your hand, gesturing for you to go inside. 

your friends are excitedly waving at you from the other side of the hall, thus you hurry to get to them.

"i'll see you later, okay?" you squeeze his hand reassuringly before looking at your friends with a glimmer of excitement. "bye, xiao!" 

the moment you let go of his hand without your usual goodbye kiss or at least an 'i love you', his hand subconsciously reaches out for yours once again. 

thankfully, you take notice of his action and turn to him once more with a quizzical look on your face. "is something wrong?" you ask him.

he wants to say something about you forgetting to give him a kiss but the thought of saying something so sappy makes his face heat up in embarrassment. you can tell he wants to say something by the unsure look in his eyes, but he holds himself back, shaking his head. "nothing. you should head to class." 

the blush gives him off entirely because you can read him like an open book. his heart skips multiple beats when you lean in and plant a brief kiss on his cheek with a wide smile. "there. love you, and see you later, okay?". his cheeks flare up even more as he replies, "mhm. love you too…"

© withloveajaxx 2023. please do not copy, plagarize, or translate in any way.

#iely's writing #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #childe headcanons #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche headcanons #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #diluc headcanons #xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #xiao headcanons #01/01/2023

[bitchimasnake-sss]

the monster trio (but make it highschool!au);

basically, what if these mf weren't illiterate?? highschool!au headcanons for the monster trio!!

luffy:

- the class comedian (and doesn't know it) - like this man is out here just going about his day, doing stupid shit. he doesn't know why the class is laughing when the teacher asks him what he's doing and he says "eating. want some?" through a mouthful of doritos and a shit-eating grin - everyday, atleast once, he gets sent to the principle (the principle is garp lmao) and garp sends luffy back to the teacher because even he doesn't wanna deal with this precious himbo

- he runs track (and he is actually so good at it) - he's that one kid that has adhd and the whole school knows but he doesnt "adhd? what's that?" "you, luffy, that's you" - his homework? never complete; his handwriting? so shit it feels like ants crawling on paper; his uniform? something has to be missing always whether it's a button on his shirt, tie, belt, something. - one time he pulled up with one sock missing and when asked, he shrugged and said "sometimes things happen" - why did he say it like that??? - somehow, despite it all, he manages to pass (nami tutored him forcefully and made him pay her later) - best friends with the martial artist!zoro and cooking prodigy!sanji - nobody knows how these three are friends??? but they are ig - also, i headcannon him as the guy who is like 4 feet and after one summer comes back stretched out (hehe, pun intended) - always so kind to others even if he doesn't know them, always willing to help freshmen out and run errands for you if you need help - nobody knew he is related to his older brothers (ace, sabo) "how are you their brother??" "idk? how am i??" - just the bestest boy ever, golden retriever energy all day every day no matter what universe it is

zoro:

- you take one look at this mf and you think, ah here is the classic delinquent, stick-up-his-ass martial artist and you couldnt be more wrong - he is never dressed right but that's cause he doesn't know how to tie a tie and listen if he had the willpower to find the right socks at 7 in the morning, he will - he is just an incompetent fool, trust me 😭😭 - gets late on the regular cause he always takes the wrong turn - the one "jock" who isn't anything like a stereotypical jock? like he hangs out with soon-to-be valedictorian nami, idiot luffy, theatre kid!ussop and cook!sanji - nobody can understand how this friend group was formed??? - actually gets asked out a decent amount of times and always says "nah, im good" and walks away to his friends - people are starting to suspect if he's dating luffy from how hard their bromance is going "zolo!!! gooDMORNING!!" luffy yells as he launches onto zoro in the middle of the hallway at 8:03 am on a random tuesday zoro casually drops his backpack to catch luffy "morning" zoro replies as if it's casual behaviour - the amount of trophies the school has in his name is insane (nation level martial artist, roronoa zoro) - he is actually decent at school, he is just average and he's fine by it he doesn't give all that much of a shit in the academic sphere - casually pulls up to the parents-teacher meet with thE FUCKING WORLD REKNOWNED MARTIAL ARTIST, DRACULE MIHAWK??? "i see he passed in all his exams. how wonderful, zoro. let's leave now." "aight" - he doesn't even think twice when asked if he knows mihawk, he's just like "yeah that's my dad what about him?" - a certified dumbass in every universe

sanji:

- listen to me this mf went to masterchef junior and fucking won and people only know this cause the school hyped him up and not because he wanted people to know "omg sanji did you actually win-" "no that was my twin brother sanjo, please leave me alone" - actually prim and properly dressed, shows up at time everyday and gives in all of his assignments and submissions well before the due date (he is partially responsible for keeping zoro and luffy on track) - he was the one making cupcakes when nami was organizing a fundraiser for a nearby orphanage, he was the one who baked cookies cause sabo wanted to hand them out on his last day of school, he was the one who baked cakes for his classmate's surprise birthday party - rumor has it if you get on good terms with sanji, a mysterious box of homemade chocolate will be there in your locker the next day - despite all the hype he has, mf still gets no girls - like luffy, he is insanely kind to those who need help - has gotten almost suspended once for beating up a senior year kid for bullying a freshmen (luffy and zoro just stood by and laughed as that kid got his ass handed to him) - he is the son of THE FUCKING OWNER OF BARATIE, A FIVE STAR MICHELLIN RESTAURANT THAT IS FREQUENTED BY CELEBRITIES ALL THE TIME "omg omg sanji is it true that the rock visited your restaurant last night?!" "yeah, his daughter wanted to eat my tiramisu, she's really sweet" - so chill always (but simultaneously losing his shit) - the kinda person you'd love hanging out with - as i said, in any universe, he is still single (feed him the rizz rizz fruit pls)

a/n: tried something new tell me do you like it or love it?

#one piece #op #opla #one piece headcanons #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #monkey d luffy #god ussop #nami #zoro x reader #luffy x reader #sanji x reader #one piece x reader #one piece fic #one piece fluff #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro #luffy #sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #zoro headcanons #sanji headcanons #luffy headcanons #strawhat pirates #straw hat crew #strawhats

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Hermione Gingold (Gigi, Around the World in 80 Days, The Music Man)—A late addition to the Hollywood scene, but good lord what a mark she made. With a voice absolutely dripping with allure, she turned every film she was in into a romp her autobiography is racy and hilarious. I adore her.

Agnes Moorehead (Dark Passage, Mrs. Parkington)—i'm just submitting all the milfs at this point

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Hermione Gingold:

Agnes Moorehead:

“Daughter of a minister, she’s incredibly religious. Would arrive on the bewitched set with “the bible in one hand and the script in the other.” And once during an earthquake, she refused to run to safety and said, “God will protect me.” - Her father prohibited her from attending an acting school until she had a formal education so she got a degree in biology. She taught at english, speech and history a high school while also getting degrees in English and Public Speaking. Entered AADA at 25. - Her film debut was in Citizen Kane when she was about 40 - She had a lovely singing voice. - Despite her religiosity, her privateness and close relationships with female friends fueled rumors even during her lifetime that she liked women. In her rather emotional interview with Boze Hadleigh, she expressed her desire to not have her private life be reduced to a few paragraphs of sensationalism. It is not really possible to know with certainty. - She had a farm with cows and donkeys. Lastly, I am aware that Agnes was not considered a leading lady and I’d like to campaign for her inclusion as we have reason to believe that this might have been due to the prejudices of ageism, her unusual (but stunning) features and a number of other factors: 'To classify her roles so as to discover her closeted lesbianism, although productive in the exploratory sense, runs the risk of imposing another set of stereotypes upon Moorehead. Linking character actresses and lesbians confirms marginalization, and while Moorehead played marginal characters in most of her plays and films, she could have played the leads had she so been cast, and she did play supporting roles brilliantly. That New York and Hollywood directors cast her as the outsider may be as much a statement about ageism and sexism as about sexual identity. It is probable, however, that her sexual identity figured and figured prominently, and if as an overlay to the other issues, we are left to interrogate the entertainment industry that forced her into exaggeration because she could not express whom she really was. Endora and Moorehead, one and the same, finally achieved supporting star status, with all the ambiguous meanings implied by the ''Bewitched'' narrative; however, Moorehead might have achieved diva status within legitimate classical theatre had she sought unambiguous sexual leads. Because she did not, or could not, we can conclude, using the soft evidence of innuendo and intuition, that her sexual identity clearly affected the direction of her career.' From a paper called ‘The Witching of Agnes Moorehead’ by Lynne Greeley”

#agnes moorehead #hermione gingold #ladies 1 #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman

[heich0e]

wake up call suna rintarou/f!reader (haikyuu!) word count: 2k tags: sfw but suggestive, classic morning after meltdown, walk of shame (bedroom to kitchen edition), pining, fwb to lovers, idiots to lovers, instagram story repliers to lovers, bestfriend!terushima, implied teruyams. a/n: i heard suna rintarou has a 8 pack... i heard he’s shredded

I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up—

“I fucked up.”

“Good morning to you too,” Yuuji chirps from the other line as you answer his call. His bright tone is a stark contrast to your own hoarse, panicked whisper—having frantically fished your ringing cellphone from the bottom of your tangled bedsheets when it woke you. “What did you do this time?”

"I..."

You hear the unmistakable sound of your shower running down the hall of your one bedroom apartment, sucking in a breath.

"... am going to be late for brunch.”

“Ohhh.” Your best friend’s tone of voice turns salacious. If there's one thing you can count on, it's that Terushima Yuuji is nothing if not insatiably gossip hungry. “Who did you do this time?"

"Yuuji..." you trail off, weary and miserable.

"I should have known what you were up to when you disappeared from the bar last night without saying goodbye.”

“Yuuji,” you repeat yourself, though this time it's a harsher snap that's punctuated by a painful throb buried deep between your temples. “I’m serious, this is bad.”

“Oh no,” he says with a dramatic gasp, quickly realizing just what—and who—you’ve done.

You let out a dismal, pathetic little groan.

“You said it was never gonna happen again! Swore up and down that you’d rather be struck dead than ever—“

“Shut up,” you hiss, another pang of your aching hangover blooming behind your eyes. “This is all your fault!”

“My fault? You’re the one who was all ‘Yuu I’m getting transferred to Nagano wah wah wahhh I’m not going to know anybody wah wah Oh, doesn’t your super cute boyfriend’s friend study in Nagano? Can’t you put me in contact with him? i just wanna know one person wahhhhh.’”

“That was insulting,” you sniff following his offensive impersonation of the conversation the two of you had shared ten months prior before you'd moved across the country for your promotion. You push your messy, matted hair back from your face.

“That was spot on and you know it.” He snickers. “Anyway, blaming me for any part of the mess you’ve gotten yourself into here is laughable.”

“If you’d never introduced me to Tsukki I never would have met—“

The shower down the hall turns off, and your head snaps towards your bedroom door—left slightly ajar by the last person to exit it.

“I have to go,” you whisper in a panic, and hang up before you can hear Yuuji’s (surely snarky) reply.

You stumble on your own two feet as you scramble out of bed, grabbing an old oversized t-shirt to pull on from your floor next to your hamper. You hadn’t even cleaned up your apartment last night, you realize in horror, rushing out to your living room.

There are dishes in your sink, a half-empty and uncapped bottle of green tea on your counter that you never finished, a pair of shoes in the middle of your floor, and a pile of work papers on the corner of your coffee table with an empty candy wrapper on top that you'd forgotten to throw away. Your eyes flicker to your closed bathroom door and wonder what humiliating mess you might have left in there.

Your cellphone, clutched tightly in your hand, buzzes with a text.

Tadashi and I’s train home to Sendai leaves at 2, and if I don’t see you before then I will assume you have died of mortification or had your back broken.

Either way RIP.

‘Fuck you’ you text back, sneering at the way he's taking pleasure in your misery.

Your bathroom door opens.

“Hey,” a familiar figure steps out, and a wispy cloud of steam follows. You feel the humid heat kiss your cheeks as he towels the ends of his hair.

There's another wrapped around his waist, but the man before you is otherwise glistening and bare.

“Hi.” You stand like a proverbial deer in the headlights, averting your eyes demurely.

The phone in your hand buzzes again, and your gaze flickers towards it.

I wouldn’t say no to Suna Rintarou’s sloppy seconds 👅

You toss your phone gracelessly behind you onto your couch.

Suna quirks a dark brow as the device lands with an audible little thump among the cushions, but otherwise passes no comment.

Everything on your body aches.

“Sleep well?” he asks you, ruffling the hair beside his right ear with the end of your favourite lilac bathtowel.

No.

“Yeah, you?”

“Mhmm.” He lets the towel rest looped around the back of his neck. He juts a thumb over his shoulder towards the door he'd just exited. “I was gonna wake you to ask but I figured I'd just shower first. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, no, of course,” you wave your hand dismissively, trying to keep your voice as even and unbothered as possible though you have reason to suspect you might be failing.

It's painfully, hideously quiet in the moments that follow.

“So," Suna says, his uncannily vulpine eyes watching your every move carefully, "wanna grab breakfast?”

“I have plans actually." Your answer comes too quickly and too emphatically even though it’s true. You shuffle into your kitchen just as an excuse to put some distance between the two of you.

He follows.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you reply through the sticky tightness of your throat. “I can make you a coffee though?”

You feel gross. Your skin feels tacky and icky and you desperately need a shower. You're also fairly confident that you didn’t even have the presence of mind (or remaining stamina) to take any of your makeup off last night, and can only imagine what you must look like right now as a result.

Your cheeks flush hot at the realization, and you spin on your heel to face your kitchen cupboards to--if nothing else--spare you another mortifying moment of being too closely perceived.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” you insist, pulling open the cabinet door in front of you and reaching towards the middle shelf to grab your bag of coffee grinds.

“You can hardly bear to look at me." You can tell as he speaks that Suna's getting closer, and panic mounts in your aching chest. You fiddle with the foiled edge of the plastic coffee bag nervously.

“You’re half naked,” you squeak out like it should be obvious.

A large hand appears in your peripheral vision, resting on the cupboard door next to your head and slowly easing it closed.

"I was fully naked last night, and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it then.”

“Suna, I-“ you falter when you turn around and realize just how close he is.

He's right in front of you. So close that you can feel the residual heat from the shower radiating off his exposed skin, so close you can see the droplets of water that still cling to him. His hand still rests flat against the cupboard beside your head, and the other on the counter next to your hip.

“You call me Rin when you’re drinking, you call me Rin when we’re fucking,”--you realize belatedly he has you practically pinned against the counter with his body--“why can’t you ever call me Rin in the morning?”

Your pulse pounds in the back of your throat, and for a terrible, horrifying moment you think you might be sick. In your panic, you duck under his arm and skitter away.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you mumble, heat climbing up your cheeks as you flee to the other side of your tiny kitchen--not that it does much good.

Suna turns and surveys you skeptically as you wring your clammy hands. “Is that so?”

You nod, entirely unconvincingly.

“I don’t think you’re telling me the truth.”

“What reason would I possibly have to lie to you?” you toss back, equally accusatory in tone, but it's clear to both of you that you're floundering.

“Great question," Suna crosses his arms over his stupidly toned chest, "I’d like to know the answer too.”

All you can focus on is how his posture makes both his chest and his biceps look unbelievably good.

“I’m too hungover for this,” you groan, cradling your head in your hands.

“Do you need medicine?” Suna softens in the face of your apparent agony, taking a little step towards you.

“No, no!"--you throw your arm out to keep him at a distance, waving him away dismissively--"And don’t do that.”

“Do what?” he asks, head tilting to the side in confusion.

"Y'know..." Your mouth opens and then closes again as you try to string together any coherent sequence of words. "Be all… nice to me.”

“Don’t be nice?" Suna's already monotonous voice is impossibly flat as he interrogates you. "Why not?”

“Because you’re you!” you finally snap, exasperated and flustered and wishing more than anything that you could just crawl back into your bed and pretend none of this ever happened.

“Uh, as opposed to…?”

“You know what I mean!” You huff frustratedly.

He looks at you like he really, really doesn't.

“You’re charming and hot and a professional fucking athlete with an eight pack,”--you gesture accusatorially to his naked torso for dramatic effect--“and yeah you’re a little weird, but honestly it’s kind of infuriatingly cute.”

Suna glances down and quietly counts his own abs, seeming genuinely surprised when he finds that you’re not wrong.

“I thought I only had 6,” he says, mildly impressed, as he looks up. “I think you’re cute too, by the way.”

You resist the urge to scream, settling instead for crouching with your head held in your hands.

It's quiet again, and you squeeze your eyes shut against the painful pulse you can feel pounding behind them.

Your voice is softer, more defeated, when you finally do speak.

“You’re you, and I’m me, and we’re us. And us just… doesn’t do nice.”

You hear Suna shuffle towards you, his bare feet appearing in front of your downturned gaze as he crouches in front of you and mirrors your stance.

“Hey, don’t I get a say in any of this?” he asks, surprisingly gentle.

“You can’t really will two of your abdominal muscles away,” you mumble.

“I’m not talking about my abs,” he says, but he can’t help but laugh a little. “Didn’t it ever occur to you that there’s a reason I keep coming over here? That there’s a reason we keep hooking up?”

You blink, pursing your lips. You still refuse to meet his gaze though you can feel it on the features of your face.

“I’m annoying? And surprisingly hard to shake when I’m drunk and propositioning you?”

“Yeah,” he replies simply, “and I also happen to like you.”

You suck in a sharp, wounded breath. “It’s… different for me, Rin. I-I’m worried that I like you more than I should. And I don’t know when it happened, or what to do about it.”

“There you go making decisions all on your own again.”—Suna clicks his tongue admonishingly—“I reply to every single one of your Instagram stories.”

He makes the announcement as if it should clear everything up, though it unsurprisingly does not.

You blink, peeking up at him from under your lashes.

“You’re just always on your phone.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” he admits, running a hand through his wet hair and pushing it back from his face. He draws in a little breath and holds it for a moment, like he’s steeling his nerve. “Do you have any idea how often I bug Tsukki for updates on you? How you are, where you’ve been, if you mentioned me? It’s kind of pathetic. I’m pretty sure he’s muted my text notifications.”

You don’t understand.

“Why?”

He laughs, though the sound is relatively mirthless.

“Because I like you. I already said that.”

“You like fucking me,” you argue, hiding your face in your hands.

“No,” he’s exasperated now, and you realize that this might be the most you’ve ever actually spoken to Suna about anything that isn’t, well, directly related to being penetrated by him. “I mean, yeah, obviously. But I also think you’re funny, and have good taste in music, and find it really fucking cute when you text me at two o’clock in the morning trying to start a fight with me just because you want me to come over.”

Terushima did once accuse you of using instigation as foreplay.

“I was keeping things casual because I thought it was what you wanted, not because I thought it was all you deserved.” He ducks closer to you, and gently pries your hands off of your face so you have no choice but to look at him. “I’m gonna say this once to make it perfectly clear: I like you just as much as you like me. Hell, maybe more. You’re free to do with that information what you will, but I just… need you to know.”

He stares at you, hands loosely circling your wrists as he holds them away from your burning face, and you have absolutely no choice but to stare back.

“Okay?” he asks.

“Okay,” you agree.

You’re both breathing heavily, your heartbeat racing in your chest.

Suna looks suddenly quite guilty, his narrow eyes flickering away.

“I really wanna fuck you right now,” he admits breathily.

“I really need to shower,” you say, but you sound almost remorseful. “And I wasn’t lying about having brunch plans.”

“I could come with you,” he offers, his grip sliding up from your wrists to cradle your hands with his own, his fingertips trailing over your knuckles.

“My shower is pretty small…”

“I meant to brunch,”—he threads his fingers through your own and squeezes, accompanying the gesture with a breathy little laugh—“but thanks for thinking of me.”

“Oh,” you mumble, too fixated on how much bigger his hands are compared to yours to offer much else.

Suna groans suddenly, dropping his forehead to your collar.

“You look good in my shirt,” he says, but in spite of the compliment it almost sounds like a complaint. “it’s kind of driving me crazy.”

You thought that you’d pulled on your own oversized t-shirt, but in your hungover, barely-conscious panic you had in fact put on his.

Suna smells like your shampoo when he nuzzles against your throat, and he’s still deliciously warm from his shower as he slumps into you on your kitchen floor. The early morning sunshine streams through the windows behind him in your living room, and your eyes flicker to the bag of coffee you’d abandoned on your counter.

Your fingers gently brush against Suna’s nape, running through the damp tendrils of hair that curl against his neck.

“I… really do need to shower,” you say, though it takes a lot more of your willpower than you’re willing to admit. “But… there will be other brunches.”

Suna pulls back to look at you.

“Yeah?” he asks, a smile playing at his lips that crinkles the corners of his eyes. He’s so close that you can see the single dimple on one side of his mouth, and the faint freckles smattered around the highest points of his cheeks.

“Yeah,” you agree, soft and affectionate.

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay,” you echo.

#suna rintarou x you #suna rintarou x reader #suna x you #suna x reader #suna #suna rintarou #hq drabble #hq writing #hq fic #writing

[thewritingofspencerrose]

The Captain's Girls

October 11th, 2023

"What am I supposed to do? Pack orange slices? Send in juice boxes?"

Quinn's hands find my hips, slowing my pacing and quickly wrapping their way around my body to keep me in place.

"No one is asking you to do that, Rue. You're my girlfriend, not their mom, you don't have to pack snacks or organize carpool like you do for Ellie," He assures, trying to light it up with a joke, but this is no joke. This is important to me.

"Quintin Hughes-"

"Still not my name, and you know that, but carry on."

"-This is my first game going as the captain's girlfriend. I missed all of the preseason games because of visiting my parents and things for Ellie. And I had to facetime your mom to help me pick out outfits good enough for Ellie and I to be seen in, and don't even get me started on how long that took because only half my wardrobe fits over this stupid bump-"

"Not stupid, we love that bump, that bump is our son."

"Yes, you know I love him," I respond, not even slowing down. "But what if the guys don't think I'm good enough? What should I-"

I don't get to continue my rambling, his lips meeting mine and wiping any spiraling thoughts from my head. And as he pulls away, he smiles with so much love in his eyes it makes my anxious nausea settle.

"You, Ruthie Jane, are overthinking with that - gorgeous - big - incredible brain of yours," Each word punctuated with a kiss to my head, his hands coming to rest on my cheeks, making sure my eyes meet his. "No one is expecting you to be perfect. To bring snacks or drinks or anything like that to the games. You know the rink provides foods for the families anyways. And you're going to be gorgeous in whatever you wear to the game. You could show up in a garbage bag and still be the most beautiful woman in a room," He assures, his hands running from my cheeks and down my arms, taking ahold of hands and stepping back to look over my outfit, a simple Canucks blue jumpsuit that makes my five month bump even more apparent, a Canucks bomber jacket with Q's last name and number on the back keeping me warm, his captains C staring back at him.

"You look gorgeous," He assures, pulling me back in, wrapping me up tight.

"What about me Daddy!" Ellie's voice interrupts our moment, her body hurling at our legs. Always a daddy's girl.

"You're are just as beautiful as your momma, baby," Q compliments, bending and pulling her up into our hug, her little blue bell bottoms and a miniature version of her father's Canucks jersey keeping her matching the both of us, with a white longsleeve to keep her warm.

Thank God for Ellen constantly sending us knew clothes as she grows. We've already had to ask the team for a new jersey twice since Ellie and I came back into Quinn's life.

"You hear that Momma? I'm just like you! Will CJ be just like Daddy?" She asks, hand reaching down to pat where she knows her brother to be.

"One can only hope baby," I answer, my eyes catching Quinn's, his eyes the shape of hearts before he steps back, still holding Ellie and bouncing her around.

"Ok, I'm just gonna put Ellie in my equipment bag and then we can head to the game," Quinn tells me, starting to swing the little girl towards the disgusting bag that typically takes residence in the garage, her giggles filling the room and my heart.

"Daddy! No! No! I sit with Momma during game!" She squeals, Q pausing and holding her in front of him, eyes jokingly wide.

"Oh, so you don't come with me?"

"No Daddy," She's still giggling, digging her head into his chest and giving us a moment to catch eyes, and God I can't help but love this man.

"Well, we need to get going, cause otherwise Daddy will be late," He prompts, but before he's even done speaking we're both grabbing our bags, his to play and mine for Ellie, his body nudging mine as he draws close. And he smiles, his classic Quinn smile. "And I don't think they'll be okay with it, even if it was the Captain's girls who caused it."

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #nhl fanfiction #oc x quinn hughes #quinn hughes #accidental pregnancy #mamma series #second chance romance #vancouver canucks

[wrishwrosh]

re: tags on labor in historical fiction post, would be very interested to hear what the four examples you mentioned are!!

ok u know what that tag WAS bait, thank you for taking it. technically speaking these aren't works dealing strictly with labor in historical fiction, they are my four treasured examples of BUREAUCRAT FICTION (so not NOT about labor in history?) i was gonna try to make this post pithy and short but then i remembered how extremely passionate i am about this microgenre i made up. so sorry.

bureaucrat fiction is not limited by genre or format but criteria for inclusion are as follows: long and detour-filled story about functionary on the outside of society finding unexpected success within a ponderously large and powerful System/exploring themes of class and physicality and work and autonomy and what it means to hold power over others beneath the heartless crushing wheels of empire/sad little man does paperwork. also typically long as hell. should include at least one scene where the protagonist is unironically applauded-perhaps for the first time in their life-for filling out a form really good. without further ado:

soldier's heart by alex51324. the bureaucracy: british army medical corps during wwi. the bureacrat: mean gay footman/new ramc recruit thomas barrow. YEAH it's a downton abbey fic YEAH it's a masterpiece. i've talked about it before at length, my love has not faded. the crowning moment of bureaucracy is a long interlude where thomas optimizes the hospital laundry (this actually happens twice or maybe three times)

hands of the emperor by victoria goddard. the bureaucracy: crumbling fantasy empire some time after magical apocalypse. the bureacrat: passionate late-career clerk from the hinterlands cliopher mdang. i reread this book every winter bc it is as a warm bath for my SAD-addled brain and every time i neglect all my responsibilities to read all nine billion pages in three days. it puts abt 93% of the worldbuilding momentum into elaborating all of the ministries and secretaries and audits necessary to run a global government and like 7% into the magic and stuff. there are also several charming companion novellas and an equally long sequel that dives more into the central relationship between cliopher and the emperor which i highly recommend if you like gentle old man yaoi and/or magic, but there's more bureaucracy in HOTE.

the cromwell trilogy by hilary mantel. the bureaucracy: court of henry viii. the bureaucrat: thomas cromwell, the real guy. curveball! it's critically acclaimed booker prize winning rpf novel wolf hall! mantel is really interested in particular ways of gaining and maintaining power in delicate and labyrinthine systems like the tudor court, specifically in strongmen who use both physical intimidation and metaphysical manipulation to succeed. under these conditions i do think my best friend long-dead historical personage thomas cromwell counts as Bureaucrat Fiction (as do danton and robespierre in a place of greater safety. bonus rec.)

going postal by terry pratchett. the bureaucracy: fantasy postal service of ankh-morpork. the bureaucrat: conman, scammer, and little freak moist von lipwig. this is definitely shorter and lighter than the other three entries on the list, sort of a screwball take on the bureaucrat. but the mail is such a classic bureaucracy thing? who doesn't love thinking about the mail? also contains a key genre element which is a fraught sexual tension with the person immediately above the protagonist in their hierarchy, who is also their god-king and boyfriend-dad. you can't tell me vetinari isn't torturing moist psychologically AND sexually.

anyway sorry about all this. if you've read any of these come talk to me about them. bureaucrat fiction recs welcomed with the openest possible arms.

#this post was very challenging to write bc i cannot spell the word bureaucracy to save my life. EVERY time i forget where the U goes #long post #asks #bureacracy. beaureaucracy. bereaucracy. fuck french

[multiwreckedmess]

February Filth Fest - Day 5

Pairing: Lee Know(Minho) x fem!reader Kink: Dacryphilia WC: 1.5k Summary: Minho is the classic best friend who hates all your boyfriends. He’s always had a good reason to hate them, you are just always late to see it. TW/CW: Dacryphilia, possessive Minho, break up sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, surprisingly soft? no pronouns used but reader has fem genitalia.

You looked like a drowned cat and maybe that’s why Minho let you into his apartment that night. Umbrella forgotten at the movie theater, mind preoccupied with disbelief.  You didn’t stop running for the whole ten blocks it took you to reach his building’s alcove, fully equipped with a new video buzzer. Panting and shaking and dripping you rang his number and prayed that he was home snuggly on a Friday night rather than out on the town.

You were buzzed up without a word from him. Unusual but appreciated. Normally he’d play a back and forth game with you as though he didn’t know who you were before pretending to reluctantly let you in, much to your embarrassment. This time he didn’t even say hello, just the heavy thud of the lock deactivating answering your call. The apartment door was cracked open for you, one of his orange cats greeting you with a loud meow before trotting to the kitchen.

“Minho?” You could barely keep your voice from wobbling. Adrenaline wearing off you grasped the wall of the entryway for support. “He’s a fucking asshole Minho you were right. You were right. I was dumb. Tell me you told me so. Come on, get it over with.” The man appears, two bottles of soju in hand, no glass in sight. Giving you a once over he frowns, “you’re wet.” “It’s raining.” “Ah. I see.” He disappears only to reappear with a pair of sweats and a shirt throwing them at you with little ceremony. “Change before I gloat, you look depressing.” You sniff and giggle. It’s remarkable how sobbing and laughing feel so alike to your diaphragm. The kick of muscles forcing air out of your nose and mouth, the only difference is the ache in your heart.

In his bathroom you gingerly peel off your wet clothes and lay them over the safety bar in the shower to dry. Tipping your head over the tile you fluff your rain matted hair and check the reflection. Pitiful. Dark ring of mascara covering your undereyes, lashes heavy with retained water. Or tears.

A soft knock at the door. “Hey,” Minho’s voice reverberates from the other side. “Everything fit okay?” “Oh, yeah,” you swing the door open. He’s propped against the frame casually, nearly nose to nose with you. You jump a little. “Boo.” He smirks and hands you your bottle of soju. “Tell me, what did this one do?”

Minho had an annoying habit of prognostication when it came to your love life. It started when you’d first introduced him as you best friend to your latest fling. The strong handshake, the set jaw, the forced smile, all indicators that he was jealous and controlling. Minho smiled back. They hated each other. Minho knew the fling would pull the “your friend or me” card on you and end it. The next guy was no better, Minho hated his sleazy smile and immediate fallback to “bro code” as if they’d been friends longer than you and he had. This current  boyfriend he just flat out hated. He told you he hated him. He didn’t like that when you talked your boyfriend would look at his phone more than you. He thought he was rude and arrogant and told you not to trust him.

“He cheated Minho. He’s a fucking cheater.” Your heart sinks down into your stomach. Brushing passed Minho you collapse into his overstuffed couch, another small brown cat comes to investigate you. Minho swigs his soju. Legs pulled into your chest, fingers pulling and stretching the cuffs of his sweats. “They look good on you. Keep them.” “Did you hear me Minho? I caught him. In the fucking movie theater with some bitch. Can you just, I don’t know, tell me how dumb I am and that you knew it from the beginning and get it over with please.” Your words bounce off of him, face blank, staring straight at you. He knows it’s not the right time, in fact it could be the worst time but he can’t help it. He’s already a bottle into the night and you look so cold and pathetic. “You look really pretty when you cry.” Somehow it doesn’t sound so bad when he says it. “Your eyes are really sparkly and your nose is cute and red,” he continues kneeling by the couch. “I knew he’d cheat on you from the first time we sat down for drinks. I’ve hated him since that night. I’m glad he’s going to be out of your life.”

Every word feels sharp in your ears, ringing painfully all the way to your chest and burrowing in your throat. Biting your lip you nod, “okay, yeah. You’re right.” Scooting behind you he pulls you into his lap, head to his shoulder. It was a familiar position, familiar circumstance. You fall into him easily, seeking his warmth and strength.Your warm breath fanning on his neck, small hiccups shaking the both of you, how your fingers curl around the cotton of his black tee shirt, it’s the small moments where his heart wants to take care of you most.   “You’re dumb for wasting your time on him. On all of them.” “Make it not hurt anymore Minho, please,” you look up, eyes red and puffy, into his and plead. “I hurt so much.” His lips catch yours, “okay. If you trust me. I will. I’ll take care of you.” Nodding your nose brushes his, your lips meeting again softly. “I do. I trust you.”

Holding your waist he adjusts you to face him, sunken into the couch straddling his thighs. His heart beating wildly he gulps, “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.” “I know.” You let his arms swallow you whole, losing yourself to his kiss. Rough calloused palms run under your borrowed shirt along your back. Each kiss places a patch over a wounded soul. One to your throat, one between your breasts, one for each of your wrists, even leaning you back to kiss your stomach. He maps your invisible scars with his fingertips, all the battles he couldn’t fight for you, all the times he regretted not saying something sooner. “Fuck me and make it hurt,” you demand in a whisper. “I need to hurt.” “No,” he wants to elaborate. He wants to tell you that you’ve hurt enough. That you don’t need more physical pain to feel like what you are feeling is valid. But he doesn’t, slowly stripping you both of your sweatpants. “Please,” your voice is small and whiny. “Is that how he fucked you?” “No.” “Then no.” Minho slides two fingers in your spread pussy, stopping your chatter with his mouth on yours.

Every movement feels slow motion. The slick sound of you hips rocking into his palm, thumb brushing over your clit. Minho touches you like you could break easily in his arms. Kisses you like he was trying to catch a floating bubble on his lips. Even sliding down on his dick felt easy and smooth, slotting in like you were made for him. Fully seated with him inside you melt over his chest, chin on his shoulder.

It’s the most complete you’ve felt in years. Sticky sound of skin peeling off of skin as you rock into each other and breathe. He smells sweet and spicy, familiar and warm. He holds you to him as he moves more quickly, fucking up into you, chasing your whimpers and sighs.

Minho can feel your walls flutter and clench around him,your thighs growing tired you crash down onto him hard, forcing him deeper and closer. He keeps pace as you squirm and whine unintelligibly. “That’s it, let it out. You can let go. Let go for me okay? You’re safe.” He whispers, encouraging softly to contrast the brutal snap of his hips.

“Mmhohkay, Minho- I-”

Groans forced from your body with each stroke you feel it again, the overwhelming tightness in your chest that spreads and blossoms up to your throat and down to the tops of your thighs. The heat between you is all consuming. You need air. Leaning back onto his thighs, fingers clawing his biceps, air rushes into your lungs. Minho already has one hand at your clit to make up for the loss of friction, pressing against it with his middle and ring finger making small harsh circles. You cum violently, pent up with rage and sadness, sobbing and swearing and shaking.

“Too good, Minho, it feels-it’s-” your voice is rough and shaking with each syllable. He loves it. He loves how destroyed you are. Destroyed in the way you should be, racked with pleasure until you are broken and his.

His. The thought circles and wraps around his brain like a cobra. Minho cums with a strained high grunt, slipping out of you and spraying his release on your tummy. Globs of pearly white streaking your skin. Despite the mess he scoops you up back against his chest. Kissing and coddling you as you vibrate in his arms. “Whose tears are these?”

“Yours Minho.” You smile and wipe your cheek.

He rubs his thumb under your eye, collecting remnants of mascara and tears. “No more crying for anyone else.”

This was a lot softer than i expected to write him. I just didn’t feel like writing him too mean or rough this time even though generally i like mean!minho.

#lee know smut #stray kids minho smut #lee minho smut #skz minho smut #minho smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #february filth fest

[crazyk-imagine]

I Mean It

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!reader Characters: Fem!reader, Daphne Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, Simon Basset Warnings: Fluff, cringey content, this has been in my drafts for a while, it’s more modern than our classic Bridgerton time, I manage to write the most heartfelt sentences a man could say like five minutes before I have to go to work, no regrets for this bad boy, anthony and the reader denying their feelings, anthony breaks so he can have the reader, daphne and benedict are very proud of their plan, vague backstory for readers ex, the reader being the smartest when it comes to bridgerton sibling fights, I hope you all can find it in you to enjoy this  Word Count: 2,662

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“Another line left in yet another book for you, I see,” Daphne teases you. 

You roll your eyes. “Would it hurt you to quiet down.” 

“Yes, truthfully. It would.” 

“You exaggerate.” 

“I do but only because you don’t want to try and figure out who it is? Or even suspect that maybe it could be-” 

“It’s not him, stop trying to bring it up every time we’re here.” 

She opens the door, gesturing for you to go inside. “Chickens first.” 

You narrow your eyes at her, “rude.” 

“I am not rude. I merely, tell the truth.” 

“Like I believe that.” 

“Believe whatever you want but when your secret admirer comes to light. and it is A-” 

“Good morning, ladies,” her older brother greets with a smile, having some idea that he was interrupting but not seeming to care (or so he lets you believe). 

“Good morning to you too, Anthony,” she returns with the same upbeat he had in his tone, only stressing his name as she turns back to you. 

You ignore her and smile, nodding your head to greet him. 

“Daphne, you have five minutes before your shift.” 

Her head snaps in his direction. “What? Why? I have more than five minutes before I start.” 

“That was until you started showing up late and not staying to lock when I needed you to.” 

“But I had plans before coming in and you know that.” 

“I do, which is why your lucky mother doesn’t know about what’s going on right now. I ask that you start your shift now because I need you to take over, okay? I need to be able to focus and give my full attention to the next wave of customers to come in.” 

“Kind as ever, Anthony.” 

They give each sarcastic smiles before she runs off toward the back of their family’s shop. 

You’ve always loved coming here, not just because of the company but because it has each family member’s touch. 

You have Anthony as the head of everything, making sure everything runs smoothly. 

Benedict creating news pieces to put up for display or customers to buy. 

Colin... he’s not as much involved as a few of the older siblings, but he does help out when it comes to calming down a particularly angry customer. Now that you think about it, he’s more of a diffuser than anything. 

Daphne is basically a manager assistant but doesn’t work like it, she likes working in the book section of the store (not just because it gives her an excuse to have girl talk with Eloise and vice versa). 

None of the other siblings have yet to step into the role of working here, nor have they talked about it. None of the older siblings seem to mind, if they decided they don’t want to (maybe Eloise, but even then, she’s just teasing them). 

You realize you’ve been too lost in your thoughts. 

Daphne shakes her head, knowing that you have, in fact, gotten lost in your thoughts and Anthony could care less. 

With her other friends, he’d be grumpy and force them away from the door slash the edge of the register-counter combo but with you, it’s an entirely different story and she doesn’t know how you don’t see it. 

No matter how hard she tries to persuade you into knowing that he does, in fact, feel the same. It just means she has to try harder and open your eyes. 

Anthony moves you away from the doors, not wanting anyone to bump into you. He lightly shakes your shoulders, wanting you to stop looking dazed. 

You owlishly blink, “what?” 

He narrows his eyes, furrowing his brows in confusion. “You were thinking about something.” 

“Was I?” 

“Definitely.” 

“Sorry, I’ll just- I'm going to get out of your hair.” 

He opens his mouth to argue but you halfway away from him before he could. 

-

“How was your morning interaction with Anthony?” 

You shrug, “fine.” 

“He’s still staring.” 

“No, he’s not.” 

“He is.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

She chuckles, restocking the bookshelf. “Then look for yourself.” 

You pout, furrowing your brows in annoyance. “I will.” 

Anthony turns away as fast as he can, immediately helping the next customer to walk through the door. 

“He wasn’t.” 

“He was.” 

You’ve never been one to give into her ideas, she thinks it’s because you don’t see it, but the truth is, you don’t want to give in and get hurt. 

Your previous boyfriend was a bit of a, what’s the right phrase... ah, right, a dick. 

He was nice in the beginning, treated you like you were a princess which included saying and doing all the right things. 

But things slowly took a turn, and he wasn’t as nice, he never laid a hand on you, but he ruined the mental image yourself and it took a while before you told Daphne about what happened... or even went over to the Bridgerton household after you two parted. 

None of her brothers know, you were barely brave enough to tell Violet what happened. 

Another reason Daphne feels you and Anthony would be good together, she knows he won’t treat you wrong; he’d take care of you and won’t let you down. 

“Do you want to have dinner tonight?” 

“What are you thinking?” You ask her. 

“Something filling but not too expensive.” 

“That could be anything,” you giggle. 

“I know.” 

-

Benedict nudges Anthony, as the latter’s lips curve upward as he watches you look happy. “Ask her out.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Chicken.” 

“Get back here you lit- hi, welcome to the B-Ton Store.” 

-

Daphne texts you that she can’t make it and sent you something better. 

A knock on the door pulls you away from the TV, you’re still unable to decide what you want to watch tonight. 

You look through the peephole and are surprised to see another Bridgerton at your door. “Anthony?” 

“Sorry, I just- Daphne told me you’d be here alone and I- mother told me to come over.” No, she didn’t. 

“Oh, okay. Come on, come on in.” 

“Or I could- I could leave?” 

“No, this is better than what I had planned.” 

“Not going out tonight?”

“Exactly.” 

“I see you have some bags with you,” you comment. 

“Observant, aren’t we?” 

“Don’t be mean, Anthony. I am starving and you interrupted me.” 

“Were you cooking?” 

“Not exactly.” 

“So, I didn’t interrupt.” 

“That’s rude of you to say.” 

“I brought your favorites.” 

“My favorites?” 

“Yes.” 

“And how would you know my favorites?” 

“Please, you’ve been to our family home so many times, I think it would be a crime if I didn’t know what you liked.” 

You resist the urge to smile. “Let’s go set these down in the kitchen.” You try to grab a bag from him, but he pulls away. 

“I know where it is and I am a gentleman, I won’t let you carry any of these.” 

“Anthony-” 

“No.” 

You sigh and follow him. 

“Go sit in the living room and find a movie or something I can tolerate because I know you were watching one of those romance movies, I can’t watch any tonight.” 

“Why not?” 

“Francesca and Hyacinth forced me to watch one too many this weekend.” 

“Oh, okay. So, I’m going to go and find all of mine.” 

He lets out a fake chuckle, secretly watching as you walk out of the kitchen. He shakes his head and starts setting up the plates. 

You click off the movie you were watching before and search for a comfort movie of yours. 

He enters, handing you your plate and setting his beside you while he runs into the kitchen to grab drinks before setting down beside you. 

“I told you; you don’t need to serve me here. You’re the guest.” 

“It’s okay. I got it.” He sits down beside you. “What are we watching?” 

“Something.” 

“Oh, I see. I feed you and you don’t tell me what we’re going to watch.” 

“Exactly.” You don’t think you’ve ever been alone with him before and it’s nice, usually you two are civil towards one another but this, this just feels different. 

You glance to the side when you hear his voice mumbling along to the words. “Do you-" You hesitate in the middle of the question, unsure how he'd react if you do. 

He doesn't move and before you know it, you're asking him. 

"Do you know the lyrics to this?” He pauses, not wanting to answer you but he knows you and you aren’t the kind to stop asking until you get an answer. “A few lines," he answers vaguely. 

“More like all of them.” 

You bounce in your seat. “When did you learn them?” 

He shrugs, pushing himself off the couch, taking your plates into the kitchen. The corner of his lips twitch at your excitement, suddenly his sister’s pestering doesn't seem like it was as torturous as he thought. 

You don’t care to pause the TV as you follow him. “You can’t just avoid the question. You know more than Daphne does and she’s seen this more times than I could count.” 

“I- I don’t know. I heard… you listen to it and it sort of... got stuck in my head.” 

“So, you played it until you somehow knew all the words, didn’t you?”

“I’m not going to answer you.” 

“Why not?” You whine. 

He shakes his head. 

You take a step closer, leaning against the counter. 

"You should go back and watch the rest of your movie." 

"But I want to know when you learned all the words." 

"Just," he sighs. "Go back into the living room and maybe we'll talk." 

"Anthony." 

He sets the plate in the dish drain before wiping his hands on the dish towel you keep beside the sink. "I will not ask you again." 

You don't know where this change in behavior came from, but you don't... not hate it. 

"Fine, you really want to know?" 

You nod even though he's not facing you. 

He spins around, setting the dish towel back in its place. "I learned because my sister's longest and closest friend always sounds so- there aren't enough words for me to use to even begin describing how lovely you sound while singing along." 

He takes a step forward. "You also have no idea how much you're in my head. It drives me insane almost because I wake up and think of you. I go to bed, and I think of you. Before I realized what I feel for you, I hated you." 

You furrow your brows and thin your lips as if you're in pain. 

"But when I talked to my mother about it." He leans against the counter with one hand close to you. "She told me it's not hate, it's love. She also told me to stop acting like a fool but here I am." 

Your brows shoot up in surprise, you turn to give him your undivided attention. "Anthony?" 

"I learned all the words to that musical that's still playing because I wanted us to have more in common. I wanted you to know that I can and will learn all that I can so that I may be closer to you because this- this relationship you have with my family is worth too much to lose." 

The warmth on your cheek isn't just from his confession, he cradles your cheek as if you'll break. "I don't want to scare you with how deep my feelings for you are, so I'll start with saying I like you more than a friend or family friend. I want to-" 

"To what?" 

"I told you I don't want to scare you." 

"What if," you gulp. "What if it won't? I mean, what if I actually like it and you just think I won't." 

"Is that what you truly feel?" 

"I-" 

"Because I think you're acting tough, and you don't mean it. I think you're pretending to want to know just so you can have an excuse to turn me down." 

"What do you take me for?" 

He leans in, "someone who denies themselves the right to be happy." 

"I- No. You're wrong. I am plenty happy." 

"But you can have more." 

"Why are you pushing this so much?" 

"So, you can stop being sad." 

That certainly surprised you. "You deserve nice things too. Even as much as finding the one you'd be able to spend the rest of your life with." He pulls away and you crumble. 

"What if I did find him and it took me a while to realize it?" 

"Do you think you'd be happy with me?" 

You nod. "I know I would." 

He stands in front of you, blocking you, evidently trapping you in between his arms as he leans in and smiles; not moving any further, not wanting to pressure you. 

You know that too which is why you're equally as shocked when you pull him in for a (long awaited) kiss. 

One of his hands slides away from the counter to hold onto your waist, keeping his other on the counter. He smiles at you. "Do you want to go back into the living room and finish your movie?" 

The corners of your lips twitch. "Maybe." 

"Come on," he mumbles, guiding you with one hand resting on your low back. 

You don't know why you're feeling so shy all of a sudden. 

You two sit back down and rewind to where you were before his confession, only this time, you’re not as far from the other. 

You curl into his side, mouthing along to the words as his voice travels through your ears. 

-

Daphne knocks on the door, arriving earlier than you expected, curious as to what happened between the two of you but also because you have plans for lunch before going to her family home. 

She groans and hangs up the phone again, her patience is wearing thin. She knocks on your door harder than before. “It’s me, open up before your neighbors think I’m a burglar.” 

The door swings open, her jaw drops at the sight of Anthony with you curled into his side. 

“Well, well. Now I know why you haven’t answered your phone.” She lets herself inside, leaving her brother to close the door. “We have plans, say goodbye to your girlfriend so we can get ready and then go out to lunch.” 

“Is it where I made your reservation for?” 

“Of course.” 

“I’m coming too.” 

She whines, “no you’re not.” 

“I’m hungry too and it’s under my name. You would have forced me to come sooner or later.” 

“But that was before last night.” 

He raises his brows. 

“You two are a couple now and I won’t have enough time to spend with my friend because you’ll be dragging her around with you.” 

“I won’t be dragging her-” 

“Fine, coupley things.” 

“You can do coupley things with Simon.” 

“It’s not the same.” 

“What if,” you interrupt the two. “What if we go out together?” 

They both are ready to object when you quickly add, “you, me, Anthony, and Simon? We’re going to your family’s home anyway, why not all four of us hangout?” 

Neither of them object, seemingly going along with your idea. “Good. Daphne and I will get ready while you go back to yours then we’ll meet at the restaurant?” 

He nods, pulling back into his grasp. “I’ll leave on one condition.” 

“What’s that?” You ask with a smile. 

“A simple kiss.” 

You peck his lips. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

Daphne lets out a fake gag as the two of you make out. 

“Go away, Anthony. You’ll see her again soon.” 

Once he’s left, she drags you into your room. “Tell me everything.” 

“Daph!” You chuckle. 

“Spill.” 

“No.” 

“Come on,” she whines as you walk into the bathroom. 

“I don’t kiss and tell.” 

“Oh!” She chuckles, “fine. I’m just happy he stopped leaving you those notes.” 

“He what?” 

“Nothing. Nothing. Finish getting ready.” 

#Bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagines #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton imagines #anthony bridgerton x fem reader #anthony bridgerton x fem!reader #crazyk-imagine

[kryptid-writes]

Chapter 1 - Dream a Little Dream of Me

Y/N has nightmares of a winged man haunting her dreams. When her dreams become reality, her world changes completely.

(1.3k)

The sound of wings rustling, knife slashing, and faded screams echo all around. The stink of metallic blood and rotting corpses burning my nose. I’m choking on the thick air, and it feels like my chest is caving in as my breathing gets shallower by the second. There's blood everywhere. My eyes widen as my gaze falls on the mangled corpses upon the forest floor, each one twisted and bent in ways that shouldn’t be possible. Rays of moonlight pours through the trees, dancing across their mangled remains like some twisted classical painting.

I sink to the damp forest floor. There’s no escape.

In the blink of an eye, a large ominous figure towers over my shaking form. His short dirty blonde hair and strong hands are covered in fresh blood splatter and pieces of sliced flesh. His striking eyes glow a dark red, reflecting the color of blood painting every surface. But what I truly could not take my eyes off of is his large white wings that block out the view of everything around it. His intimidating wingspan wraps around us like a dark feathery blanket, reminiscent of a night sky with no stars.

        “I promise I will never let anyone hurt you, never let anyone come between us,” he says in a surprisingly soft voice. He flashes me a smile that’s intended to be comforting, but it comes out sick and twisted. He pulls me close and wraps his muscular arms around me, a low buzzing feeling humming between the two of us.

I can hear his heart beating in his chest, slow and steady, far too calm for a man that just slaughtered a dozen people with ease.

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

        I bolt up out of bed, nearly falling off completely, but I catch myself at the last second. A cold sweat clings to my skin and the worn-out sheets, my breath coming in heavy and ragged. It’s not the first time I’ve dreamed of the winged man, in fact it seems to be the only consistent thing in my hectic life as of lately, but waking from the dreams never seems to get easier, always a struggle to shake the sinking feeling.

It takes a few moments to remember where I am, the crappy motel room I rented for the night, not so different from the countless other run-down motels I’ve stayed in across the Midwest, all with the same stingy smell.

Obnoxious yellow floral wallpaper lines the wall, caked with dirt and God knows what else that’s been accumulating for years. Ceilings spotted with black mold and blotchy water stains. An outdated box television plays the local infomercial about some miracle cleaning product, but it all sounds muffled and far away. The digital alarm clock on the bed stand reads 2:00 AM flashing in big red bulky numbers.

        Just a dream, I remind myself with a relieved sigh. I swing my feet out of bed, throwing on some jeans and my signature leather jacket, scuffed and torn in various places. I need some air. Just need to get out of here.

I recall the rundown bar I drove by just down the street. It’s a good way to kill some time. Plus, I could really use a drink right now. The bitter taste of alcohol is the only relief I get from these nightmares that torment me at night and haunt me during the day.

The cold air bites at my skin, but it’s surprisingly pleasant, grounding me back into reality and away from the painful dreams. It's the twelfth dream I’ve had this month and they only seem to be getting more intense, more real. They always end with the same winged figure. The same demonic, yet charming smile. No matter what I do, I just can’t seem to shake that haunting face.

        Entering the bar, it’s nearly empty with a few patrons here and there. Most of them are older men wearing bulky leather jackets, a bit rough around the edges, perhaps a local biker gang. Some of them playing pool, others chatting about their glory days over a bottle of beer. The sound of the jukebox in the corner playing the best of eighties rock drowns out their conversations. It's apparent there’s not much of a buzz going on, unlike most bars at this hour.

The voices and music around me fades to background noise, it feels as if the rest of the world has disappeared, that I'm the only one left on this miserable planet.

I slide into a worn bar stool that’s certainly seen better days, taking off my worn leather jacket and placing it on the sticky wooden bar. I sigh and halfheartedly raise my hand to get the bartender's attention.

“What can I get you, hun?” A nice older lady asks, shining a glass behind the bar.

“Just a whiskey please. Jack Daniels if you got it,” I give her a weak smile, trying to blink the tiredness out of my eyes.

She nods and pours me a generous amount of light amber whiskey in a fancy glass, sliding it over to me.

I take a swig, the warm liquid slides down my throat with a pleasant burn, already giving me a sense of calm. These days, whiskey has been my best friend and I’m okay with that. People just disappoint you.

“Make it two.” A large figure takes the seat next to me.

My body stiffens. I recognize that voice from somewhere. I slowly turn to face him and see him staring back at me with those intense red eyes and intimidating wings that I’ve come to know all too well. My stomach drops. It's the man from my dreams. I freeze, my body going into fight or flight mode. In a matter of seconds, I decided to take my chances running. I leave my drink and jacket behind, making a beeline to the door, slamming it closed behind me, giving me any sort of advantage to get away.

He doesn’t follow, but that doesn’t stop me. I run and run and run until I physically can't anymore.

The streetlamps and apartment buildings around me turn into a blur and my head starts to feel dizzy. The world spins around me, clouding my vision. The cold air feels like it's burning my lungs as I struggle to gather oxygen. My legs feel like jello, ready to give out any second. I’ve lost track of how long I've been running, maybe minutes? Maybe hours? Everything in me is begging myself to keep running but I physically can’t force myself go on any further.

I tuck myself into an alley, leaning against the ragged brick wall that painfully digs into my back, yet it barely registers in my brain. My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest. I close my eyes and try to catch my breath.

God, please let this be another bad dream.

“I was going to pay for your drink, and you just ditch me like that? Rude.” The man scoffs.

My eyes shoot open to see the man from my dreams less than a foot away, arms crossed, looking nonchalant as ever. My blood turns cold.

How is that possible? He couldn't possibly have run that fast!

A knot twists in my stomach. Deep down I know. This man is not human, and he certainly does not have good intentions.

“L-leave me alone!” I try to sound brave, but my words come out a sloppy stutter. I hold my arm out in front of me, as if that will deter him in any way. Stupid. This intimidation tactic is clearly not working.

“Oh, don't be so dramatic Y/N.” He rolls his eyes, then presses a gentle finger to my forehead.

The world goes black.

Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader supernatural #lucifer supernatural #castiel #crowley #sam winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural #spn fic #slow burn #love triang;e #choices #reader insert #love triangle

[baby-jaguar]

John Price; Drop Everything Now.

Part 2

CW: PTSD, Songfic inspired by "Sparks Fly" (Not in a cringe way I promise)

GN!Reader who is a sergeant on TF141. WC: 2,262

AN: I needed to post this before I completely tore it apart (again) and decided to scrap it. LMK if you'd like a part two because I have a good chunk of it but unsure if I'd like to continue this since I want the PTSD to linger and not be just diminished because reader is love of his life (I'd like to at least try to have some realism, rip). This was actually created for a test run of writing PTSD so I am happy to take any constructive criticism or tips for writing it. Hope you enjoy!

Being stationed in the Middle East meant that you weren't used to much besides the hot sun baring down on every activity you did and dust storms that would blow over, which effectively made you shut your mouth to not breathe in the dirt. However, that didn’t mean that Mother Nature would not bless the dry lands with an ounce of rain every once in a while. 

You wouldn’t know about the rain usually unless you were outside training or on a mission when the dark clouds would roll in, giving you a rare break from the sun. Other times, the clouds would cover the stars and moon in the night sky, but you wouldn't be able to tell just what kind of clouds they were. 

And that, unfortunately, is how tonight is going without your knowledge.

The rain was never an issue on base, its greatest hindrance being the lack of vision, the annoyance of getting wet, and the general time it would take to wait it out. However, there was always the unspoken thought of the thunderstorms that could arise. 

You’ve served two years within TF141 as a sergeant, having been recruited and transferred to be on base under Price’s command. Now having some experience under your belt, you’ve seen a thing or two- but nothing compared to your superiors.

From an external point of view and reflection on yourself, it brings a possibility that your mind has yet to realize if the memories are getting trapped within yourself. Your nervous system may have gotten stuck in the past at a few points in time, but while you remain living in the action, your biggest symptom is nightmares and anxiety that you brush off each time.

The same can’t be said for your Captain.

Price, with his two decades of service, has lived through more than you could ever imagine and things he wishes to not recall. He plays the classic tough guy act, brushing his emotions off as something he can deal with when he’s home and not deployed- nor does he want to even believe they are necessary to process, his ways still being a bit old-fashioned.

When you were recruited, his viewpoint shifted a bit. Price wasn’t sure that you would be a good fit within the team, and debated putting you on a platoon further down the branch that he still oversaw from time to time. Yet, during your grace period, he would check up on you- being sure to debrief with you after long days of training exercises or drills that were getting harder and harder. When you had proven your worth to him and the team, an unspoken agreement between you two was formed. You would casually reside in his presence but keep it under the notion of him offering guidance to the rookie. This often resulted in you filling out reports or paperwork on your laptop in his office while he worked at his desk.

Price was not a sharer of his inner turmoil. But, sometimes, you would confide in him and he would allow a sliver of a softer man to peak out in the late hours of the night.

That's how the deeper part of your relationship worked with him. Hard-ass by day, and a mildly reserved man by late night. You’re close with the entirety of the team, but you’ve always had an attraction to Price, classically never trying to show it or verbalize it to anyone. Yet, you had a good hunch that he already knew from your softened behavior towards him when the veil of superior and subordinate came down to friends in the dark glow of his office.

You knew it was a bad idea to ever indulge yourself in having his attention and reciprocating it, but now you over-indulged for the last year and find yourself with a cavity at the sweetness you suck from his words. Your mind is always left in a trance on any touch he unknowingly spoiled you with; a hand to the small of your back, adjusting your elbows if you were using a heavier loadout during training, or a pat on the head after a job well done.

Tonight, the storm rolls in with thunder chasing right behind it. 

It's late in the evening as you stand in the common room, having had dinner late, and washing the dishes while quietly humming to yourself. The subconscious part of your mind notices the flashes of lightning and deep thunder that penetrate the barriers of the base but leaving it as a non-threat. You wash your dinner plate, moving the sponge around, but before you can put the plate down to dry, your phone rings with a call from Price. 

It's not unusual for him to call when he decides he’d like your presence while completing paperwork, yet your eyebrows furrow as you see the time to be later in the night than his usual request.

Before you can even speak into the phone after answering, your ear is polluted with the sound of his ragged breaths; the sound of rain hitting the ground is amplified more than what you hear while being inside. It sends a roll of skin-prickling anxiety down your spine as your eyes widen. “Price?” You ask after a blink, trying to understand what this call could be.

You hear it when he speaks, a tremor in the back of his throat and you can imagine the adrenaline-crazed look on his face. The sound of your name is called from him, and it almost sounds questioning, as if he isn't sure it's you, even though he called.

“I- I don’t know where I am…” He pants out, sounding choked up, trying to swallow air and the lack of saliva in his throat while in the pouring rain.

Drop everything now

Without a second thought, you drop the plate, the clatter of it breaking once hitting the ground echoes in the common room and snaps everyone's attention on you. Not having any need for apologies or reason, your body is already supplying the adrenaline needed to set into a dead sprint out of the common room as you weave past the other bodies to push through the hallway and enter the stairwell with the clamor of the metal doors swinging open.

“John, where are you- tell me what you see.” You call out as your body gets set on autopilot, practically flying down the stairs of the barracks and onto the ground floor moving into the hallways. “Do you see the training yard or do you see a road?” You pant out while pushing to find the exit door of the base.

It's here and now, that you now actively recognize the roll and clap of thunder as if it's taunting you to hurry up and find Price before it does.

But it seems it already has.

Each door, person, and corner you pass feels like a deliberate obstacle, frustrating you as you try to get outside faster.

“I- I see a road and the-” He’s interrupted by a bright flash, a strong shake of thunder following right after, and you hear him grunt in aggravation at the sound he lacks control over. With a call of your name, he makes a quiet plea. “Please, I need you here. Now.” He manages to ground out with a sharp breath, causing you to almost second guess yourself at what he said. 

You bank a hard left, towards the East entrance, finding the door to take you outside towards the main road that leads to the base's entrance. Shouldering the large door, you grit your teeth while taking the metal harshly against yourself, but almost come to a halt when you feel the pouring rain pelt on your body.

Meet me in the pouring rain

“Please.” His voice shakes again through the phone, and the rasp from his panting re-escalates the adrenaline through your body.

It breaks your heart to hear him sound like this as if he’s succumbing to his demons. “John, I’m gonna find you but you need to help me, ok?” You ask as your legs begin to burn from the force that you run through the damp earth with. “-you see the flag pole? ” You bark out while another flash of lightning crosses the sky, closing your eyes as you wince. “Hey- listen to me, focus on me.” You command, praying that he isn’t locked inside his memories.

After a moment, “Y- Yes, I see it. The- the rains comin’ down hard- won't fucking stop.”

The shake in his voice is back; he’s shivering and his irritability is beginning to build up faster as it makes itself evident the longer he stays held within the turmoil of his nervous system.

Running and finally entering the main yard after having had to cut through the detached buildings to make it to the front, you place your free hand over your eyes to try and gain some semblance of visibility while the flashes of lightning aid for a moment.

“Meet me there. It’ll be just you and me, only us.” You pleaded with a hint of firmness, needing to direct him as you move with haste towards the lit flagpole, the light being a beacon through the pelting rain.

While running in the dark and wet ground, you lose footing and slide your foot into loose gravel; your right elbow is now scraped while you clatter to the ground with a “Fuck-” Your voice breaks through the night air, as your yelp of pain staccatos out in the silence between the flash of light and complimenting rumble of thunder. 

In a moment before you can stand up, you hear your name being yelled out, whipping your head up in response. The raw tenacity of his voice through the thrumming of rainfall hits when there is no other force of the storm that can distract either of you.

Your gazes find each other; he looks frozen for a moment, then immediately runs to you.

“John-“ falls past your lips in a cry when you spot him. His fatigues stick to his body, his hair wet and bucket hat long gone. Making his way hurriedly, his body slows with unexpected grace as he helps you to your feet. Almost as if in a hurried frenzy, you latch onto him by his arms, blinking through the falling rain as you look up and search his face. 

The expression he wears, as he makes sure you’re alright, contradicts the voice he had just seconds earlier; his eyebrows furrowed with worry as he checks over you, quickly placing his large hands on your ribs to stand you upright as if you are a toddler who has just taken a tumble.

“Bloody- You alrigh’ sweetheart?” He asks as the warmth of his panting breath fans across your face while pulling you up against him.

“I’m ok, I just slipped from the rain. Thank you.” You speak while still holding him tight, latching onto him. Your heart aches at seeing him care for you no matter where his mind places him, always putting others before himself.

John nods, letting out a small sigh. The feeling of your warmth against his chest brings him back down as he looks over you, trying to blink the anxiety and rain from his eyes. The feeling of his hands, cold and now gentle, glides up to move the wet hair from your eyes. It surprises you for a moment as he stays completely silent besides the tremoring breaths he takes.

At the silence, you let a small huff of laughter escape before closing your eyes and giving a smile in relief at having him in your sight and arms, before fluttering your eyes open to gaze up at him. 

You return the gesture when you move your hand to wipe his hair off of his forehead, the rain having matted it down to his skin. “With me as I’m with you. Always with you, John.” The lull of your voice surprises both of you as it can be heard perfectly in the rain, with no sign of thunder or lightning interrupting your words. 

John cups the base of your skull, looking at the raindrops that fall in small splashes and trails along your face. His eyes dilate when focused on you, the sight of him this close and his icy blue eyes keep steadfast on you, leaving a haunting mark on your memory and heart.

He moves his head down to meet yours; pausing for a moment as if he isn't sure this is real- he isn’t sure that this isn’t a dream and his mind is granting him a wish. Is this a true trick of his mind? This can't be a memory, surely-

He looks as if he’s in pain, so you take the last leap of faith for him.

The new and added warmth of his lips on yours is tender. It contrasts the rough environment of where you stand, the life you both live and the constant battles faced within. Your arms and his alike move to wrap around each other in a harsh and tight embrace.

As the raindrops fall all over both your faces, you feel as if you’re in a movie and the climax has just hit when the lovers are united.

You both are soaking wet, but neither of you seems to mind. He pulls you back into him, deepening the kiss with a determined and desperate force.

Kiss me on the sidewalk

Take away the pain.

#task force 141 #call of duty #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #captain jonathan price #jonathan price #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #captain price x reader #captain price mw2 #cod price #price x reader #captain price #141

[rashomonss]

A HUMANS WRATH

Part V

previous part

taglist: @miridiums-writing, @zerchlia, @aeongiies, @xmoogx, @coffeeandtealol, @shizunxie, @food-lover9000, @exactlydeafeningmusic, @l0diluvs, @vichsy, @valeriele3, @entolomaeden, @acaribeau, @sillybeanzo, @jessiegerl, @capricorn-anon, @crescentworld

a/n: omg I’m soooo sorry this chapter took so long, i’ve been crazy busy lately, but here it is! i promise the next chapter will release early since this one wasn’t! also this story is on ao3 now for anyone who wants to read it there! it's under the same user I have right now! well, enjoy!

warnings: the usual

something you had been searching for

There was a familiar feeling to the bed you were laying on, perhaps it was yours? Opening your eyes you looked up at the ceiling trying to adjust to the dimly lit room. Once adjusted to your surroundings you sat up only to realize you weren’t the only one currently in your room. 

At your table sat a sleeping Levi, leaning face-first into his handheld gaming device. Asmo sat next to him asleep with his face in between his arms, and Satan sat at the end with a book resting on his chest as his head laid back against the chair.

And in front of you sat your first man, passed out in a chair taken from your table, arms crossed and drooling. From the looks of all of them, none of them had changed into their pajamas yet, so they had clearly been here for a good while. What plagued your mind was why were they there. 

Turning to look at your clock on the nightstand the time read 2:53 am. 

Is it that early already? How long have you been asleep? 

Well, that really didn’t matter since right now you felt a sharp pain go through your head. Holding it in your hands you wondered why it began to form. 

No, later than a second your stomach made a loud growling noise to signify you were hungry. That was to be expected though since after all, the last thing you had to eat was breakfast yesterday. 

Quietly and slowly you got out of bed, trying not to alert the demons in your room, and made your way out the door, with the intent of stopping by the kitchen first. 

Turning the corner you made sure to check the time again, worried that if not you might run into Beel. Thankfully for you, it was just after his midnight snack raid, so you would be able to enjoy a meal quietly. 

Since you still felt a bit groggy from sleep you decided against putting together a full meal. 

Instead, you threw together a sandwich with what was left from the raid and washed it down with an energy drink Levi kept in the back of the fridge. Finishing you placed your plate in the sink and walked in the direction of the twins’ room wondering if they also happened to be asleep. 

However as you passed by the common room you found them both passed out on the couch in each other's arms, but as they lay there you noticed Belphie moving around a bit uncomfortably. 

Well of course that was to be expected due to the way the youngest was laying, half of him was on Beel, while the other half was just barely on the rest of the couch. 

Sighing, you walked over to the couch and pushed the youngest onto the couch more, then you proceeded to cover him with a blanket that was resting on the opposite couch.

You smiled bittersweetly at the youngest and leaned down to give him a small kiss on the head. “Sweet dreams Belphie,” you said, pulling back. Then you turned to his twin doing the same thing. 

Even though these weren’t your twins, they still deserved to be cared for. 

As you made your way back to your room the faint sound of classical music could be heard, which could only mean one thing you thought.

 Lucifer was still up. 

You stood there for a moment contemplating what to do. Of course, like usual, you could visit the eldest and keep him company during the early hours of the morning. But then again, he isn’t your Lucifer. 

“Well it wouldn't hurt,” you thought. After all, knowing Lucifer he would continue to be up for a decent while. So you had decided to head back to the kitchen to whip something up for the oldest since he’d most likely skipped dinner again. 

But just like last time it was nerve-wracking walking to his office. 

And again that thought plagued your mind, “he isn’t even your Lucifer, why were you being so nice to him?” 

Well, he may not be your demon but he still resembles him to a certain degree. Well except for the fact that this Lucifer is way more stressed than the one you’re used to, not to mention he isn’t one for physical affection. 

Disregarding the bundle of nerves that sat in your stomach you gently knocked on the half-opened study door. 

Knock, knock 

Silence… 

“Come in.”

You slowly appeared in his doorway and smiled at the demon sitting at the desk. Lucifer’s breath hitched the second he saw you and he blinked in shock a few times.

“Oh, good evening Mc, you’re awake? Did any of my brothers see you?” he asked, a bit confused. 

“Good evening Lucifer, and no they’re all asleep in my room, well minus the twins they’re on the couch” you laughed. 

“Oh, I see, well they were supposed to inform me when you woke up, but apparently they’re all asleep,” Lucifer said, leaning down to sigh.  “Those idiots”

“Hey don’t get too mad at them, they all seemed tired. Not to mention you look a bit rough yourself Luci” you responded, putting the sandwich and teacup on his desk. 

Lucifer looked a tad confused at the nickname but brushed it off, turning his attention to the plate and cup in front of him. “What’s this?” he asked. 

“Sorry it’s not much but it’s what’s leftover from Beel’s fridge raid, and the tea is one Barbs sent over a while back. It helps relieve stress.” 

“Oh well, thank you. I suppose that’s very generous of you. Anyway, how are you feeling? Everything’s okay, are you in pain anywhere?” he asked, taking a sip of the tea. 

“I’m doing fine. Well, I do have a bit of a headache, but that’s all.” 

“Also sorry I would have put the tea in the cup I got you for your birthday, however, I haven’t been able to find it at all, which is really weird.” You replied, taking a seat on one of the plush chairs in front of his desk. 

You wondered if this Lucifer knew something about this whole timeline switch, he has to after all, Lucifer is one to know many things but never share. 

Well, time for you to do what you do best. Poke your nose into the said topic until you get some answer that will satisfy you. 

“What tea cup are you talking about? I have never received one from you Mc." Lucifer said, placing the cup down.

“What do you mean? I bought you a cream and royal blue teacup for your birthday this past year. Did you somehow forget?” You asked. 

“Mc, I regret to inform you but I’ve never received such a gift from you before” 

“Are you sure? I could’ve sworn I bought it. After all, I saved up quite a bit to buy it” you laughed, turning to face him directly. 

“I’m positive, Mc” he said sternly. 

You could tell he was beginning to get annoyed. So possibly another push or two would make something slip since he was always one to rant about some problem the earlier the morning got. 

“Well, you must be lying because I’m positive that I gifted it to you. Unless there’s another Lucifer I’m unaware of?” You replied, rolling your eyes. 

It could’ve been missed if anyone else was watching him, but you knew Lucifer and the slight widen of his eyes after that sentence gave you all you needed to know. 

“How could you imply such a thing? Perhaps you should get some more rest, you’re beginning to make up things now” Lucifer said, regaining his composure. 

“Do your brothers know.” you deadpanned. 

“Pardon?” 

“Are your brothers aware that I’m not from here? Or have you told them” 

Lucifer’s voice got caught in his throat as he met your eyes. What would he say? What could he say? The one topic he had been tiptoeing around was finally being brought up by the one person he hoped wouldn’t find out. Clearing his throat he then spoke. “So it appears you’ve found out what’s going on. And to answer your question no they don’t know” 

“I thought as much, even in a different timeline you’re still never one to tell your brothers anything” 

“Hmph,” Lucifer said, crossing his arms. “You speak as if you know me” 

“Oh believe me I do, besides my Lucifer is almost the same as you.”

“Almost? Whatever could be different, we’re the same person.” Lucifer asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“On the contrary, he’s not one to be so strict with me as you are ” 

“Well you’re not my human so why should I change my attitude just because you’re nicer than they were” 

“Your human? Do you perhaps miss your timelines Mc” you asked. It felt weird talking about yourself, or as one would say, another version of yourself. 

“Don’t be absurd, what made you come to that conclusion?” Lucifer replied. 

“So you’re not too fond of them then? Well if you’re not on good terms with them then why don’t we start over” 

“What do you mean?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“If you and this timelines version of me got off on the wrong foot then why don’t we start over? I hope we’ll be able to get along” you smiled. 

Lucifer studied your face for a few moments before he then released a sigh. He swears you will be the death of him. “It’s not that we had gotten off on the wrong foot, it’s the fact that they haven’t forgiven any of us after the incident. So that’s why I’m experiencing difficulties with this Mc” 

“The incident you say? Mammom called it that too, are you perhaps referring to when Belphie killed me?” you asked, looking back towards Lucifer who gave you a rather shocked face. 

You have never been so blunt about the incident before so it took the Avatar of Pride back a bit. If you reacted like this then he already believed that Belphagor had already killed you in your timeline. However, the only difference is that you forgave them. Clearing his throat Lucifer then spoke. “So I assume that you also met the same demise as our Mc. But you are rather forgiving don’t you think so? I would advise against being so understanding in the future.” 

“Forgiving? Are you under the impression that everyone from my timeline apologized?” you said a bit confused. 

“I would have believed they did? After all, we’re still apologizing to our Mc, and they have refused to forgive any of us” 

You laughed a bit loudly and sighed looking a Lucifer with an expression that he couldn’t make out. 

“What’s so amusing?” he asked, growing slightly annoyed. 

“They never apologized to me. No one ever asked me how I felt after, instead, they chose to pamper and suffocate me after they found out I was partially related to their, well your sister. The fact that you all refer to that as the incident or even tiptoe around the topic is laughable.” 

“I have no place to say that the other timelines Mc’s feelings aren’t valid” you stated, “But they should be grateful enough to even get an apology from all of you. because I’ve loved all of those damn demons for so long and not one of them has even apologized to me” you could feel tears start to form and cursed under your breath in response. 

How pathetic you thought, of course, it made it worse that it was Lucifer who was watching you cry, but you couldn’t help it these emotions were to strong to be suppressed any longer. 

You felt pure envy because how dare they reject an apology? You would have killed to have one or to even have the topic brought up for discussion in general. Of course, you loved your demons but the fact they just swept the incident under the rug hurt. 

No one came to check on you late at night after you had recurring nightmares about being choked to death, and waking up with tears dripping down your face in cold sweat. Sure you would seek the brothers out for comfort, which they always returned but you could never bring up how their dear baby brother was the cause of your night terrors. 

Belphie never realized how uncomfortable he made you those next couple of months. Sure he was cute at first but how do you expect to feel safe cuddling with someone who just killed you a few weeks ago? Or when he wanted some alone time and he would drag you to the attic, in the back of your mind you hoped he wouldn’t end your life again. Belphie never noticed all the ‘naps’ you both took were him just holding onto you as you watched him sleep, too nervous to let your guard down in fear for your life. 

None of the brothers ever helped as you died, they all watched and panicked, of course, Mammon’s tears were appreciated but no one ever stopped the youngest. Weren’t they all supposed to be stronger than him? 

So how dare this version of you be so picky about an apology, they should be thankful they even received one at all your thought bawling your fists together.

“Mc, I understand I’m not your Lucifer…but I apologize on behalf of what happened to you and the fact that I allowed my brother to harm you like that.”  

Your eyes finally met his and the emotion he held was almost unbearable to look at. Someone, no Lucifer had given you an apology. A genuine one you had been hoping for, after all this time.

The tears continued, however this time they were falling more rapidly now shocking the demon in question. “Thank you” you smiled bittersweetly. 

“No thank you, Mc” 

Bang!

At the sound, you and Lucifer turned to the study door being pushed open to reveal six demons crying as they all barged in. 

Lucifer’s face morphed to one of anger and he quickly grabbed you pushing you behind him to shield you from his obnoxious brothers. “Have you all been listening in between Mc and I?” he yelled.  His main worry currently was you, due to the fact he didn’t know if you wanted the rest of his brothers to see your tear-stained face. 

 “Lucifer don’t be like that! Please let us apologize to Mc too!” Asmo wailed 

“Yeah, they deserve it! After all, this human has been nothing but nice to us!” Mammon yelled. 

Soon more yelling was brought forth as the brothers tried pushing Lucifer out of the way to get to you. This again angered the oldest and soon he changed into his demon form pushing all his brothers back. “I understand you all feel that way but have you considered how Mc is feeling right now?” 

At that, all the brothers stopped to watch as you wiped the rest of your tears and sighed. “It’s ok Lucifer, if they want to apologize then let them” 

Changing back into his original form Lucifer sighed and then spoke, “if you all wish to say your apologizes to Mc then go ahead” 

And just like they said each brother including Belphie apologized for everything that occurred at the beginning of your stay till the incident, of course, it surprised you, to say the least, but it was nice hearing them all admit to being in the wrong. 

However, no amount of apology from them, no matter how thoughtful, genuine, or sweet it may be could ever fill that hole in your chest. 

Why? 

Simple really,

it’s because they're not your demons.

Next part

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me luficer #demon brothers #obey me angst #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphie #obey me barbatos #obey me beelzebub #obey me leviathan #obey me diavolo #obey me mc #omswd fanfic #omswd

[shortpplfedup]

Only Friends Character Rankings Episode 5

It's The Date Episode! And honestly, fucking outstanding. The core six pair off and spend the day lying to themselves and each other. It's mostly cute and sweet but the undercurrent of shit about to hit the fan hangs over the entire episode. It's sort of the calm before the storm. Last week, Boston held onto his top spot in the viewer rankings for the second week in a row, with Ray and Nick rounding out the leaderboard. Can the most miserable bastard in the world do the hattrick? Here's this week's winners and losers.

🔺1. Top (2)

Why don’t you try Lasik? A friend of mine had it, and they said their eyesight is so much better. But now that I think about it…I don’t want you to get it now. I like you better looking like a nerd.

Look, ain't nobody more surprised than me, but this man legit got every goddamn thing he wanted this ep. Top putting on the perfect man act (and I am more convinced than EVER that it's an act) was fascinating to watch. Studiously ignoring all the various signals put out by various other men all day, knowing Mew's eyes are on him. The fucking INSTAGRAM COUPLE PHOTO. And then the knockout blow: when he looked Mew dead in the eye and said 'I love you' I said out loud OH YOU MANIPULATIVE MOTHERFUCKER WELL PLAYED. Do I think Top has bad motives towards Mew, no. I just think he likes the idea of Mew a lot more than he actually likes Mew. And now that Mew's given up that bussy, I'm counting down to Top finding a mistress to give him some variety.

🔺2. Nick (3)

-You’re acting weird. -Weird how? I’m just… I’m just shuffling up my style.

Speaking of getting everything you want, Nick looked like he won the lotto when Boston started talking about settling down. Never mind that Nick is doing ALL of Boston's work for him. Never mind that 3 separate people have now told Nick that Boston ain't shit. Nick is euphoric. Nick has ascended. Nick is doodling 'Mr. Nick Boston's-last-name' in his Trapper Keeper. Nick is going to the gym and dressing more upscale. Nick is giggling when Boston asks to spend the night instead of fucking off as soon as they finish fucking. Nick is headed for a crash so great I'm SALIVATING.

🔺3. Boston (6)

I feel like I should stop sleeping around for a bit. It’s been feeling so empty lately. In the end, I want to have sex with someone I can… talk to for a little, you know? Like, have great sex, have good chats, and…someone I can get affectionate with. Right now…there’s only you.

Told y'all you can't keep a bad bitch down for long and Boston's already bouncing back. He might have had a moment of weakness and tried to be nice for exactly one day, but Nick getting drunk and stoned and running his mouth about how cute Sand and Ray were activated his asshole glands. He smelled happiness and said NOT ONE FUCK OF THAT ON MY WATCH. Boston is that Marie Kondo gif, he fucking LOVES mess no matter how much he goes on about hating drama. He will always poke the hornet's nest. Shutting the fuck up was free, but he just COULDN'T. And thank god, because Ray punching him in the mouth was like 3 of the 5 top things that happened this ep.

🔻4. Ray (1)

-That’s a nice top. Where did you get it? -This thing? It’s secondhand.

Whew Ray's day slummin' it was so classic I shed a tear. I can't really adequately describe his facial expression through the whole day, but 'condescending amusement' is closest. His enjoyment of Sand's company is very real, as are his attraction and hints of affection, but he absolutely does not consider that man his equal, and that's why he doesn't even consider the 'boyfriend' label. No matter what Ray's feeling, Sand's demi-monde, not part of his world. He likes that Sand treats him like he's special, he likes that Sand seems to always want him around, he likes that Sand will take care of him, but he'll never take Sand seriously. This would be true even if he wasn't in love with Mew, but being in love with Mew makes it all worse. Pathetic, I love it.

🔹5. Sand (5)

I work. I save up money. I sleep. I dream. I go to bed alone, wake up, and go to work. Until…he came along. It’s like somebody presses pause on all my 24 hours. Next thing I know…I’m living my 25th hour. Ray’s extra hour.

Oh SAND. I've been saying from jump this is hurting most because SAND KNOWS BETTER. When Sand called Ray his 25th hour I wanted to SCREAM because BABY BOY YOU KNOW BETTER. This dude is either drunk or hungover all of those same 24 hours you are grinding out a living, but you wanna spend your birthday with him because he makes you feel sparkly. He stays sneering at how you ain't got no money and work 17 jobs, but because he does it with a twinkle in his eyes you're blind and deaf all of a sudden. He told you HIS MOTHER DRANK HERSELF TO DEATH and you pour him another drink. I ain't feeling sorry for Sand anymore, he did this to himself.

🔻6. Mew (4)

-Does this mean I passed your test? -Yeah. You’ve convinced me that you really only have eyes for me.

Mew really tried to play a player and ended up playing himself instead. Like, in one way he's won: Top's his boyfriend, and honestly very likely to stay that way. But Mew should have been careful what he wished for because 'boyfriend' and 'faithful lover' are two very different things.

⭐7. Sand's mom

You keep nagging at me, you know that? Who between us is the mother, exactly?

WE AIN'T MET THIS LADY FOR NOTHING! My Sand/Top half brothers theory LIVES!

⭐8. Summer

Sorry to chat you up, but I’m alone, after all.

Poor girl's a hottie but didn't stand a chance.

#only friends the series #bless this mess #only friends weekly character rankings #i support gay wrongs #only friends #only friends series #bl meta series

[emo-gremlin]

A Caffeinated Conundrum

"Good morning Gordon!" Norman chirped, running up to the tired handyman to hug him tightly.

"Hey ki-OOF!" Gordon always forgot how strong the jock puppet was, nearly lifting to man off the ground in his excitement. A clang hit the floor, causing Norman to drop the veteran.

"Oops...sorry Gordon." Norman sheepishly muttered, going to pick up the object. Picking it up, he noticed how...warm it was.

"It's OK, no worries." Gordon replied, yawning.

"What's in here?" Norman asked, handing it to the man.

"My coffee, I...had a rough night last night." Gordon took a sip of his coffee, still trying to wake up fully.

"..Can I try?" Norman requested, looking at the mug in his hand.

Gordon looked at the puppet, and then to his mug. He sighed. "Lemme make some more in the kitchen first, ok?"

Norman smiled, "I'll go get the others and we'll meet you there!"

"Wait! No-" But it was too late, the puppet ran off before Gordon could tell him to stop.

"This...is an awful idea." Gordon trudged to the kitchen of the studio, where the rest of the colorful cast of the Neighborhood awaited him. They said their good mornings to him as he turned on the coffee pot.

"Listen, I'm guessing none of you have had coffee before, right?"

They all replied in the negative.

"OK. I'm only letting you try this once. Got it?" Gordon stated, the look in his eyes told the puppets he meant every word.

"Yep!" Junebug gave him a thumbs up.

He made five cups of coffee, along with a refill of his own, leaving some still in the pot.

"Do humans have this stuff often Gordon?" Lilianna asked politely, taking her cup with a smile.

"Honesty, I don't know how humankind functioned without the stuff before it was invented." The handyman revealed, passing out the rest of the cups. "I personally perfer the classic, which is what I made for you guys. Just black coffee. None of the fancy shamacy stuff kids nowadays drink, with the mocha latte whatevers."

"Smells great!" George commented, taking his cup with a smile.

"Thanks for letting us try this, Gordon!"

It was the biggest mistake Gordon J. O'Brian had ever made.

Norman was the first to take a sip. His eyes went wide the second he swallowed the hot brew. The puppet started to vibrate right before the man's eyes, so violently it looked like he was splitting into two.

"Oh no." Gordon went pale as the others started to drink.

Lenard was next, his eye going wide as he stared at the table. He calmly sat up from his seat and laid face down on the floor. Gordon walked up to him.

"Do not bother me. My thoughts are manifesting." The purple puppet warned.

Junebug started screaming, her cup was empty and so was her seat. Gordon looked everywhere in the room before finding her on the ceiling, clawing to it like a cat in a cartoon.

George had emptied his cup as well, now huddled in the corner with the coffee machine in his arms, hissing at Gordon when the man tried to get it away from the taxi driver.

George pounced on the mug before Gordon could snatch it away, downing it in one gulp.

"Oh God what have I done?" Gordon muttered to himself, trying to think of what to do.

Norman was still in his seat, still shaking, pupils so wide it looked like his eyes were completely black. "I am going to fist fight God." He stated, looking Gordon as dead in the eyes as he could in his current state.

"Please don't." Gordon replied.

George cradled the maker of coffee in his arms, drinking out of the pot and looking all over the kitchen for the grounds to make more.

Junebug was still screaming as Lenard laid perfectly still, seemingly unaffected by the chaos around him. Junebug knocked one of the cabinets off the wall, causing the coffee bags George had been looking for to fall out, the magenta puppet crawling on all fours to grab them before Gordon had a chance to react.

The handyman heard the door to the kitchen open.

"WHAT IN THE ABSOLUTE FUCK DID YOU DO OLD MAN?!" A voice, similar to Norman's but deeper, rang out amongst the pandemonium.

Noir, an Unfriendly version of Norman, had walked in, along with two others; Tax, an Unfriendly George, and Lestat, an Unfriendly Lenard.

"I need your hel-DEAR GOD NO GEORGE PUT THAT DOWN!" Gordon screamed, now unwillingly playing tug of war with a bag of coffee as the rope.

Noir noticed Norman's cup, only a sip had been taken from it. He raised a brow as he put it to his lips and swallowed some down. "Hm..not bad, wanna try guys?"

"PLEASE JESUS DON'T DRINK IT!" Gordon cried, trying to get Junebug off the ceiling.

Tax and Lestat both tried the brew, now cold from neglect.

"Whoa." Noir mumbled, his eyebrows raised before punching Tax square in the face. Lestat dodged the swing aiming for him, running and tripping over his friendly counterpart, still lying on the floor.

Tax immediately swung back, the two puppets hyper and violent, destroying one of the tables when Noir was thrown onto it.

Gordon put his head in his hands, too tired to full think logically, and already emotionally drained.

"WHAT THE HOO HAY IS GOING ON HERE?!" Ricky yelled from one of the pipes near the sink. It was close enough to the coffee maker that George smacked the sock puppet out of the pipe. "MINE!"

"Oh thank God! Ricky, please tell me you know how to fix this."

Ricky looked him seriously in the eye. "You do realize I have no hands, right?"

"Now's not the time for bullshit Ricky!" Gordon shouted at the smaller puppet.

"Language!"

"JUST HELP ME!"

"What did you even do?!"

"I...I gave them coffee."

"YOU WHAT?!"

"How was I supposed to know this would happen?!" Gordon argued.

"Boys." Lilianna approached the two, holding a braided rope in her hands. The end of which was topped with Tax's signature hook.

"How did you-"

"Noir knocked out of Tax's belt when he sucker punched him. I took it to avoid any casualties." She replied calmly.

Lestat came up behind her. "So like, what are we doing then? We just hide until it's over?"

Lillianna shook her head, twirling the rope in the air and aiming at Junebug, grabbing her by her sweater and bringing the screaming yellow puppet to the floor. "Lestat. In my room, I have a few stage cables, go fetch them for me, would you?"

Lestat gulped, nodding. He somehow was able to avoid the chaos as he ran out of the kitchen.

"Gordon, I hope your time in the military taught you how to break up a fist fight." Lilianna stated.

Gordon nodded, going to break up the fight between the two unfriendly neighbors.

"Now Ricky," Lilianna started, putting the smaller puppet on her shoulder. "I need you to get the hand puppets, and you four will distract George to get the coffee maker away from him." She placed him in the pipe before turning to Junebug, still shrieking and clawing at the floor.

"You, young lady need to stop yelling." Lilianna pulled a ribbon from her pocket and gagged the younger puppet with it, muffling her screaming.

"ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! STOP IT YOU TWO!" Gordon shouted at the two eyeless puppets, holding the two apart.

"YOU'RE A FUCKING CUNT YOU KNOW THAT TAX?!" Noir yelled, trying to get out of Gordon's grasp.

"WELL AT LEAST I'M NOT A DAMN PUSSY LIKE YOU!" Tax screamed back.

Lestat had returned with the rope.

"Ah, right on time. Now, Norman and Lenard both seem stable enough to be left alone, so I need you to assist Gordon in tying up your friends."

"Oh boy..." Lestat looked over at them worried. He was the weakest of the Unfriendly Neighbors, no real match for the two that Gordon was keeping apart.

"You can do it." Lilianna encouraged him, tying up Junebug in a nice bow. The yellow puppet squirming to get free, but only knocking herself over in the process.

Ricky had returned with the hand puppets, now trying to get between George and the machine. The yellow clad puppet hissing and snarling at them, scaling up another cabinet with the coffee maker in tow. His weight caused the thing to fall off the wall, the impact making George let go of the machine.

Randy got his hands on it, hopping to the highest point of the nearest wall with it, out of George's reach. Handy and Pig tackled him to the floor as Ricky unplugged the appliance.

One by one, the puppets, now subdued were gathered, some tied up to keep them from causing more trouble, others dragged to the center of the kitchen with the rest.

"You are never doing that again." Ricky told Gordon.

"I know." Gordon sat, exhausted and catching his breath. "Still...Lilianna, how come you weren't affected?"

"I perfer tea." She said with a smile, sweeping up debris.

#my friendly neighborhood ricky #my friendly neighborhood game #my friendly neighborhood norman #my friendly neighborhood #mfn junebug #norman mfn #mfn norman #mfn game #mfn gordon #mfn lenard #mfn unfriendly norman #mfn

[areyougonnabe]

How would you suggest people get started learning about polar expeditions? I read Frozen in Time but I'm at a loss of where to go now 😭 any suggestions?

Hi!!! It depends on which era you're interested in!!

For Victorian exploration including the FE, I always recommend Erebus by Michael Palin, William Battersby's Fitzjames biography, and Barrow's Boys by Fergus Fleming. Now, all of those books have their flaws as many nerds (like me) will tell you, but they are all great starting points and will introduce you to the cast of characters/run of events of that era. Once you've advanced a bit, you could check out Dave Woodman's Unraveling the Franklin Mystery for an intensely detailed look at Inuit testimony; The Spectral Arctic by Shane McCorristine for an academic exploration of ghosts and clairvoyance in Victorian exploration; or Finding Franklin by Russell Potter for an overview of the search expeditions up to the present day. Michael Smith's Crozier biography is also a solid read. (EDIT: I forgot The Man Who Ate His Boots by Anthony Brandt if you want to know more about Franklin himself and his earlier expeditions!)

If you're more interested in the late Victorian/Edwardian era, commonly referred to under the "Heroic Age" umbrella, you have a lot of potential starting points....

That era could be said to have begun in 1897 with the Belgica expedition, one of the most chaotic and insane expeditions of all time. Madhouse at the End of the Earth by Julian Sancton is a RIDE of a book (more like FRATHOUSE at the end of the earth, amirite) and will get you started with two of my favorite figures of the age: it was the polar origin story of Roald Amundsen, and where he met a pre-pole controversy Frederick Cook (HIS SOULMATE).

For more Amundsen after the Belgica, I really liked The Last Viking by Stephen Brown. You could also check out Roland Huntford's biography buuut this blog is a No Roland Zone so I am hesitant to recommend him, even though re: Amundsen he's more legit than elsewhere.

The Worst Journey In The World is a classic for a reason: a really beautiful and detailed first-person account of Scott's last expedition that is a pillar of travel writing and the foundation for much of the historiography that came after. However, you could also start with A First Rate Tragedy by Diana Preston (which I haven't read yet but comes highly recommended) or even Cherry's biography by Sara Wheeler which is really excellent. OH and the graphic novel version of Worst Journey just released its first volume which is a WONDERFUL introduction to the story! Buy it here and support the artist!

I've also really enjoyed all of the other first-person accounts I've read, many of which are free & in the public domain: With Scott: The Silver Lining by T. Griffith Taylor and The Great White South by Herbert Ponting are super interesting and give you a taste of what it was like to really be there.

For Shackleton, definitely start with Endurance by Alfred Lansing and go from there. Shackleton's Forgotten Expedition is a good second step & will get you background on him and Scott (& Wilson). I have had Shackleton: A Life In Poetry by Jim Mayer recommended to me as well but haven't read it yet. After that, Frank Worsley (captain of the Endurance) wrote two books which are great supplements: Shackleton's Boat Journey and another one just called Endurance. And Caroline Alexander's The Endurance is really good too but it's a coffee table book with nice pictures, so grab a hard copy!

And last but CERTAINLY not least, I May Be Some Time by Francis Spufford is the be-all and end-all of polar exploration nonfiction, IMO. I'm just finishing a reread right now actually—I first read it post-Franklin obsession but pre-Scott obsession and honestly, it's an entirely different book once you're crazy about the Heroic Age, so while I have recommended it in the past for people just getting started, and still do, at this point I also kind of want to tell people to maybe wait until you've already reached a certain level of derangement to dive into it.

#polar exploration #there's a bajillion books out there but not all of them are good lol so hope this helps!!!

[spaceyflowerswriting]

Hey i came across your lookism stuff today thought you write beautifully. I saw that the requests are open and I'd like to request vasco x reader relationship headcanons. stuff like how they fell for each and came to be in relationship and how vasco is as a boyfriend. all of their first times with each other. (First date, first kiss, first fight and first time sleeping together [last one this is optional])

thank you 🌸

vasco relationship headcanons

details: gender neutral reader, general canon au

warning: very minor spice below the read more cut! (i'm so sorry if you meant "sleeping together" in an innocent way but i assumed you didnt ??? 😭😭😭)

a/n: beautifully is such a nice word to use thank u,,, T_T and also thanks for this request <3

×

> i'd imagine the most likely scenario would be for you to be a student of j high and just encountering vasco often! lots of short meetings that eventually turn into long convos and hanging together outside of school; the classic friends to lovers <3

> everyone in vasco's eyes are good unless he hears or see that someone's done bad things, but you can bet the second jace notices you with vasco often, he's going to do a little background checking

> after jace confirms everything is well, he tries to stay out of yours and vasco's relationship because really it's none of his business but y'know how it is... he's vasco's babysitter. i gotta say tho eventually it turns into him trying to save you from vasco's antics LMAO

> anyways yeah once you're involved with vasco, you're involved with burn knuckles. whether you commit to joining or not, you're a part of the family!

> while you have your own reasons and timing for falling for vasco, his process is rather slow and yes, he is dense to any signs you might show. for him, it's all the little things that build up over time (acts of kindness, sharing snacks, hand holding) and the realization hits him like a truck at 2 am as he sits up in bed and thinks, "are friends supposed to feel this way???"

> with the help and encouragement of his buddies, he comes to the conclusion he loves you, and eventually with their cheering, he's able to confess (unless you beat him to it, of course, in which case he would reply the same by scooping you up into a hug and spinning you around <3)

> dating him in the beginning... he's like. a perfect mix of a nervous wreck and a very confident man. some days he's a stuttering mess, other days he's leading you by the hand with a shiny grin ✨

> what you can always expect, though, is him being a supportive golden retriever boyfriend 💖 he'd do anything for you, whether it be running to a store late at night to get something for you or literally running to your house 123456789 miles away just to take care of you if you're sick

> other things he'd keep consistent: being physically affectionate with you, being proud to be your boyfriend and proud to call you his partner, and his chivalry/gentlemanly acts (this has more to do with how he feels as a man rather than anything with your gender!)

> by the time he grows comfortable with dating, he's honestly just like your best friend and boyfriend ^_^ always taking you on fun dates and making sure you're smiling, even if it's from laughing at him doing dumb stuff <3 also would bring up marriage pretty early and whatever happens is up to u lol

bonus first times bc i think u wrote fun prompts 💘

first date: considering you've been his friend for a while, vasco would've already taken you to the restaurant he eats at with his friends that he took that one blind date girl to so he'd try something new like an interactive zoo :] if you're afraid of aninals, hopefully you would enjoy a nice walk around a lake instead!

first kiss: ever since vasco began dating you, this was what he anticipated the most. it'd keep him up many nights because of how nervous it made him and he'd google "how to kiss someone" and "when to kiss someone," as well as ask all his friends and others for advice, but eventually the kiss came naturally--and by accident. he had kissed you out of excitement and because you returned the energy, he hadn't even realized what he did until jace teased him for it. after that, he shyly asked if he could continue kissing your lips, and that was that <3

first fight: it's absolutely devasting for poor vasco. he knew relationships had ups and downs but he never imagined a fight would happen with him and you. but if anything, after patching up, it taught him to stop putting you on a pedestal and to be more realistic if he wanted to make the relationship work, rather than continue to live in a romanticist's daydream.

first time sleeping together: vasco never even once thought about sleeping with you simply because it's not something on his mind, but that one time you sat a little too comfortably in his lap, he Remembered™ That Thing Lovers Do and felt super embarrassed. there's a low chance this would happen naturally, but if it does, he'd be super awkward but very gentle, making sure to constantly check for your consent; otherwise you'd have to lead the way!

#lookism x reader #vasco x reader #requests #sparklingtragedy #damn this got REALLY long lmao #anyways hello to the sudden influx of vasco fans in my inbox i hope im writing yalls man well 😭 #also thank u for checking that the status for requests are open b4 sending in a request <3 #side note: sparklingtragedy is such a fun username ^_^