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thot-of-khonshu · 3 months

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All Access, Chapter 2

All Access Masterlist | Ko-Fi | A03 Link

Pairing: 70s rockstar! frankie morales x f! reader

Rating: 18+ (explicit, minors do not interact)

Word Count: 7.4K

Summary: You're officially on the road with Triple Frontier and you try to adapt to a boys club. After Benny makes a misogynistic comment, you lean into the arms of Frankie and things quickly get hot and heavy.

Content: 70s au, drug use, heavy partying, triple frontier as rockstars, vietnam war discussion, misogyny, explicit smut, fingering, p in v sex

Thank you all so much for the love on this and for everyone's continuous help in any beta reading/reblogs. @pedropascal-whore and @nostalxgic thank you so so so much for your continued help!

Please don’t forget to like, comment, reblog!!!

There's a giant doin' cartwheels, a statue wearin' high heels

Look at all the happy creatures dancin' on the lawn

Dinosaur Victrola, listenin' to Buck Owens

Doot, doot, doo, lookin' out my back door

Benny was currently orchestrating a sing-along with everyone on the bus, the radio blasting CCR as you drove past green pastures. Benny loved sing-alongs.

They all loved sing-alongs. That was the first thing you’d noticed when you boarded the tour bus with the guys.

Your roommate had dropped you off, surveying the scene like a mom watching her kid on the first day of school. She asked if you were sure you wanted to do this. So many people had asked this question over the last week, why the hell would you ever say no?

You knew deep down that they had a point. The music industry was a beast with teeth, and being the lone woman on a bus full of rock stars wasn't exactly a walk in the park. You didn't have a lot of experience with men, let alone with famous ones, but there was something about the opportunity to tell their story–their real story–that compelled you. You had a feeling in your gut that this was the path for you, the path to your future.

The guys had also welcomed you with open arms, between the maelstrom of stale cigarette smoke and the musky scent of leather jackets and guitar cases they had given you your own space in the form of a bunk bed.

In the brief time you’ve been on the bus with them, you’ve been able to take out your journal and pen, and jot down observations and thoughts. Every so often, your gaze drifted over to the boys, studying their mannerisms, and the way they interacted with each other.

Santiago was the charmer, flirting with anyone and everyone, including you. His confidence was palpable, but you had a feeling there was more to him than just his cockiness.

Benny was the jokester, always cracking a smile or a bad pun, lightening the mood when it got tense. His playful nature was endearing, and you couldn't help but feel drawn to his warm personality.

Will was the stoic one, never letting his emotions show. You sensed a deeper layer of pain beneath his gruff exterior, and you were determined to uncover what it was.

Frankie, with his soulful eyes and kind smile, was a mystery. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you, a bond that you couldn't explain. You wanted to know more about him, but you knew he was a man of few words.

With your observations jotted down in your journal, you leaned back in your seat, listening to the low rumble of the bus and watching the landscape pass by.

"Mind if I sit here?" Santiago's voice cut through your thoughts, his voice smooth and inviting.

"Of course," you replied, flashing him a quick smile as you shuffled your belongings to make room. He slid into the seat beside you, his presence immediately commanding, like a spotlight finding its mark on a dimly lit stage.

"Getting some good material for your story?" he asked, nodding towards your journal.

"Always," you said with a small smile, feeling the weight of the assignment on your shoulders. "Got to capture the essence while it's fresh."

Santiago chuckled, a low and raspy sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Well, you're in the right place. This tour is gonna be a wild ride."

"If it's like the other night at the Chateau, I can't even imagine."

He grinned, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Oh, sweetheart, that was just the beginning. You ain't seen nothing yet."

"Fillmore West," you murmured the venue you were on your way to, sketching out the bare bones of the article in your head. The name alone carried weight, history—a legacy of acts that had stood where Triple Frontier would soon take the stage.

"Big shoes to fill," you whispered, more to the passing trees than to anyone on the bus.

"Biggest," Santiago agreed. "But we'll fill 'em."

"Confident," you noted, unable to suppress a smile.

"Realistic," he countered, a spark of humor lighting up his features for a fleeting moment.

"Well, you've certainly got the attitude," you teased.

Santiago shrugged before leaning back in his seat, his long legs sprawled out before him. "I'd prefer to call it passion."

You cocked an eyebrow, "Is that so?"

"Sure," he said, his gaze meeting yours. "When you love something–when it's your whole fucking life–you gotta give it your all, you know? You gotta go balls to the wall, all in. Anything less isn't worth it."

"Interesting," you said, intrigued by his perspective. "So what about the fans, then? Is it the same for them?"

Santiago thought for a moment, his eyes fixed on the passing scenery. "Yeah, I guess so. They're as invested as we are: they show up, scream their lungs out, and buy our records. They're part of the machine, just like us."

"The machine, huh? Do you think it's fair to say that the music industry is a machine? That everyone is just a cog in the wheel, working to keep it running?"

Santiago shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips, "Fuck no. It's a dog-eat-dog world out there. If you want to survive, you gotta be willing to fight for what you believe in. You gotta be hungry, and you gotta be ruthless."

"Ruthless, huh? And that's how you got where you are now?"

"It's how I've survived this long."

You nodded, processing his words.

Santiago leaned in to whisper to you, tapping a rhythm against his thigh. "Speaking of passion, Frankie couldn't stop talking about how passionate you were about your work. ‘Said it was refreshing to see someone so dedicated."

Your heart stumbled over a beat, the mention of Frankie sending a curious warmth radiating through your chest. You turned to Santiago, trying to gauge the sincerity in his words. "He said that?"

"Yep." Santiago gave a nonchalant shrug, but his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Frankie doesn't give out compliments easily. You must've made quite the impression."

An unfamiliar fluttering sensation took residence in your stomach, a mixture of nerves and something elusively akin to excitement. You tucked the feeling away, instead focusing on the story unfolding before you. "Well, impressions are part of the job, aren't they?"

"Sure, but not everyone leaves a lasting one." He watched you for a moment, a knowing look etched onto his face.

"Let's hope I can live up to it then," you quipped, eager to steer the conversation back to safer territory.

"Something tells me you will," Santiago replied. Picking up on your nervousness, he changed the topic. "Just remember, this is a two-way street. We're giving you a glimpse behind the curtain, so you gotta share a bit of yourself, too."

You considered his words, surprised at his openness. "Fair enough. I'll do my best."

He sauntered back to his bandmates, leaving you with a notebook full of scribbles and a mind swirling with possibilities.

Frankie thought you were special.

The idea sent a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cool breeze sneaking in through the cracks of the bus.

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

The clang of silverware and the chatter of patrons swirled around as you and the band stepped into a modest roadside cafe, the scent of fresh coffee and griddle pancakes saturating the air.

You grabbed a menu, your eyes scanning over the array of sandwiches and salads. "What's good here?" You asked, more to yourself than anyone else.

"Try the turkey club," Frankie suggested, his voice unexpectedly close. "It's pretty solid."

"Thanks," you said, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the sudden attention. Your eyes met for an instant—his brown gaze steady, a quiet intensity within their depths that seemed to see right through you. You quickly looked down at the laminated menu, pretending to be engrossed in the sandwich section.

"Ever tried writing about food?" he asked, his tone light, teasing almost.

“Can't say I have," you replied, smiling despite the awkward fluttering in your chest. "My editor would probably have a heart attack if I pitched him a piece on the culinary prowess of roadside diners."

"Shame," Frankie said, chuckling softly. "You might be onto something."

"Maybe in another life," you mused, still avoiding his gaze. You could sense his amusement, and it was oddly comforting. You risked a glance at him, finding his smile genuine, devoid of the usual rock star pretense.

"Turkey club it is then," you declared, setting the menu aside just as Tom approached the two of you before getting sat down by a host. He gestured to you.

"Hey, can I grab you for a sec?" Tom's voice carried the weight of unspoken urgency.

"Sorry to pull you away," Tom began, leading you towards a corner of the café, away from the buzz of lunchtime chatter. His brow was furrowed, the lines etched deeply. "About that conversation you overheard the other night—it wasn't what it seemed."

"Okay," you said as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your senses heightened to the undercurrent of seriousness in his demeanor, "but managing another band? That's pretty significant, Tom."

"Look," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck—a gesture you'd come to recognize as Tom grappling with the complexities of his role. "I am fully committed to Triple Frontier–those are my brothers–but this industry... It's relentless. You've got to keep your options open, ‘doesn't mean I'm abandoning ship."

"I get it," you said, not sure if you truly did but were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Just trying to stay ahead of the curve, right?"

"Exactly." Tom's lips twitched into a semblance of a smile. "I appreciate your understanding. Now, go enjoy your lunch. And don't forget to try that turkey club."

"Will do," you replied, your mind already spinning.

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

You had barely finished your first bite of the turkey club when the guys started telling you stories about Vietnam.

"I swear, these fucking rats would've been the death of me," Benny said, shaking his head. "We're talking like the size of a cat or a small dog. Some of 'em were big enough to carry a baby in their mouth."

"That's heavy," you said, fascinated. "So what would you do when you saw them?"

"I'd either try to kick it or shoot at it, sometimes both."

"You didn't do shit," Frankie interjected. "Remember the time that big rat came scurrying across the tent and you jumped up on a crate, screaming like a little girl?"

Benny glared at Frankie, his eyes narrowed. "Fuck you, Morales. I was not scared, just wasn’t in the mood to deal with some mangy rat."

"That was the only thing that scared you the entire time we were over there, hermano." Santiago added.

"You're both full of shit," Benny said, rolling his eyes.

"Are they?" Will asked, "Because I remember when mom asked us to help clean up the garage and a mouse was hiding behind one of the boxes. You screamed like a banshee and ran out of the house, ‘wouldn't go back in until dad caught it."

"Fuck you, too," Benny shot back.

"Language," Santiago said, smirking.

"Oh, shut up," Benny grumbled.

"Don't get mad at me," Santiago replied, his expression feigning innocence. "I wasn't the one who got scared by a rat."

It was clear that more than anything; the guys shared a brotherhood between them. An unbreakable bond.

"You're all terrible," you joked, unable to contain a smile.

"Yeah, yeah," Benny waved his hand dismissively. "But we're also the guys who will protect you from the rats, so you're welcome."

"How valiant," you replied, earning a few snickers. "Between all the rats and Benny's screaming, how did you guys have time to decide you wanted to make music?"

"Oh, that was a no-brainer," Tom piped up, leaning back in his chair. "These guys would play and sing every chance they got. ‘Didn't matter if it was the middle of the night or the ass-crack of dawn, they were always making music."

"We could hear them in the next barracks," Frankie added, his voice softer than the others, his gaze fixed on the table. "Santi and Will would have their guitars out, and they'd just start playing."

"And Benny would be singing along," Santiago added, "Or dancing. Or doing some weird combination of the two."

Benny shrugged, his grin lopsided. "Gotta keep things interesting."

You nodded, taking notes as the conversation flowed, their stories illuminating the early days of Triple Frontier. You could picture them on a rickety wooden stage, surrounded by sweaty bodies and cigarette smoke, their music carrying them into the night.

As the meal wrapped up, you felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that you'd have to eventually write about their military experience, something they clearly were not proud of.

"Guys, I'm going to have to ask a difficult question," you began, swallowing thickly. "But it's necessary for the article."

"I think we know what you're gonna ask," Santiago said, his tone guarded. "And we don't have any regrets about joining the military. It was a hard time for everyone, but we did our best. We served our country."

"I know, and I respect that," you replied, "But you're also a rock band now, and people are interested in what drove you to that point, how you got out."

The silence hung heavy, no one willing to break the tension. Finally, Benny spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically somber.

"It's like I said earlier, we were all looking for an escape. We needed something to believe in, something to help us make sense of everything. Music was that thing for us."

"It became our purpose, our mission," Will continued, his words deliberate. "We knew we had something special, and we weren't going to let anything stand in the way of that. When Nixon sent us home in '70, we decided to pursue our dream, no matter what."

"So, to answer your question," Santiago concluded, "We joined the military because we were desperate, and we got out because we were hungry. Nothing more, nothing less."

"I understand," you nodded, grateful for their honesty. "And thank you for trusting me with your story."

"You're welcome," Frankie said, his voice quiet but his eyes warm.

"Now, let's go rock this show," Benny declared, his energy returning as he jumped out of his seat. "We've got a lot to celebrate."

You nodded, tucking your notebook away. As the group filed out of the café, you couldn't help but linger a moment longer, a strange feeling tugging at your heart.

You glanced back, catching Frankie's gaze, his eyes searching yours. A silent understanding passed between you, a mutual respect and appreciation for the fragility of the moment. You smiled softly, nodding in his direction before heading off to join the others.

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

The road to the venue in San Francisco was a blur of green and gray, the hum of the tour bus's engine playing a monotonous backdrop to your thoughts. You were lost in the loop of the group's words at the cafe earlier when Tom's voice cut through, sharp and sudden.

"Alright, you ready for the real rockstar treatment?" Tom asked, eyeing you from across the narrow aisle. His brow was furrowed, a crease of concern marking his usual stoic expression.

"Sure," you laughed, trying to infuse some bravado into my voice. "How bad can it be?"

"Bad? No, not bad. Just... intense." He leaned closer, lowering his voice as if sharing some sacred secret of the trade. "When we open these doors, there's a sea of fans out there. They'll swarm the bus before we even hit the pavement."

"Fans?" You echoed dumbly, clutching your notepad like a shield.

"Like bees to honey," he added, his eyes scanning your face for understanding. "Just stick close to us, okay?"

"Got it." The words tumbled out easier than you felt. The pen in your hand suddenly seemed like a flimsy shield against the onslaught of adoration awaiting the band.

The bus slowed to a halt, and through the tinted windows, you could see a swarm of people pressed against the metal fencing, their faces flushed with excitement. A sea of faces along with a racket of shrieks and chants, banners and signs hoisted high—all for the five guys you'd shared sandwiches with not even two hours ago.

"Here we go." Benny clapped his hands together, grinning ear to ear. "Showtime, boys—and lady."

The door hissed open, and the sound hit you like a physical wave. You instinctively clutched at your bag, holding it close.

Tom went first, striding out to make sure the path was clear. Santiago followed, loose and relaxed. The rest of the band fanned out behind him, their signature swagger dialed up to an eleven. You trailed a few steps behind, feeling like an awkward sixth wheel.

Hands reached out, grasping at any piece of the band they could touch. A security team formed a protective barrier, pushing back the throng as the group made their way towards the stage entrance.

The crowd's chants grew louder, a steady rhythm of "Triple Front-ier! Triple Front-ier!"

It was a strange mix of emotions: awe and intimidation, wonder and apprehension. You felt small, insignificant. But at the same time, a tiny spark of pride flickered within you. It was an honor to be part of that experience.

Someone jostled you from the side, a fan slipping past security to try and touch one of the guys. Off balance, you stumbled, your heart leaping to your throat, instincts screaming that you'd be swallowed whole by this crowd and your rock and roll dreams would be over.

"Hey—watch it!" A familiar voice rose above the chaos, strong and steady.

Frankie.

Before you could fall, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against the solidity of his chest. He was warm and real amidst the surreal whirlwind of bodies and noise.

"Gotcha," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, giving you a feeling in your core that made you feel even more unstable.

His grip on you tightened, his palm splayed across your stomach. Your own fingers curled around his wrist, the pulse there fluttering under the pad of your thumb.

You reached the safety of the entrance into the Fillmore West, and he let go, the loss of contact almost physically painful.

"You alright?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.

"Y-yeah," you stammered, heat rising to your cheeks. "Thank you. I mean, for catching me. You know."

"No problem," he replied, the corner of his lips quirked up. "Just stay close next time, okay?"

You nodded, trailing behind him as he joined the rest of the group, the adrenaline of the moment still coursing through your veins.

Before you could fully process what had just happened, Tom boomed. "Alright, boys—we're behind schedule. You're on in five - let's get this show on the road!"

The group scattered, each of them heading in a different direction. Frankie cast a glance over his shoulder, his gaze lingering for a moment on you before he turned away, following Tom near the stage.

You took a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. This was your job, after all. You needed to keep your wits about you.

The boys all made their way close to the stage, huddled in a circle as Tom gave them a pep talk. You could tell that the group was amped up, and they were ready to go. They had an energy about them that was contagious, and you could feel the excitement building as the crowd started cheering louder and louder.

Suddenly you heard Santiago's voice over the group, "Stop, hey, what's that sound?"

"Everybody look what's going down!" The boys echoed.

The group then broke apart, and you could see them all getting ready to perform. Benny ran to the stage first to a sea of applause. Tom hovered back, talking with a lighting crew member and giving a thumbs-up to the sound technician.

Santiago grabbed his guitar, checking the tuning as Will and Frankie tuned their bass and guitar. Benny was already behind the drum set, tapping the sticks on the drums.

The crowd was now going wild, and the band seemed ready. Frankie headed out first, then Will, then Santiago.

"What a day, what a crowd," Santiago said, his voice low and gruff into the microphone. "We've come a long way, baby. Thank you."

You watched as the band played the intro to their hit song, "Santa Maria." The crowd went nuts, and you could feel the electricity in the air.

As the song played, the band started getting more and more into it, their energy feeding off the crowd. Santiago and Benny were bouncing around the stage, while Will and Frankie stayed more rooted in place.

You watched as Frankie moved to the center of the stage, his fingers expertly dancing across the fretboard of his bass. He was the epitome of cool and collected, despite the sweat dripping down his forehead, the same broad hands that splayed across your waist earlier playing the guitar with ease.

Your pen couldn't go across the paper fast enough, trying to capture the essence of the concert—the sweat that glistened on Santiago's brow as he sang every lyric, the bass reverberating through Frankie's body as if he were the instrument himself, Will's fingers deftly plucking the strings of his guitar, his hair fluttering wildly around him, Benny's eyes locked on the audience as he slammed the drums, his arms flying furiously.

After an hour and a half, the group played their final encore, bringing the crowd to their feet. Santiago and Will stood back to back, singing the last notes of the song, the rest of the band playing the final chords.

The crowd cheered, the deafening noise drowning out everything else. You watched as the guys made their way off the stage, exhaustion etched on their faces.

You caught Frankie's gaze as he passed by, his eyes locking with yours for a brief moment. He smiled, a lazy, lopsided smile that sent a jolt through your body.

As the boys made their way backstage, they were greeted by a mob of adoring fans. Benny and Santiago were surrounded by a group of girls, their shrill voices echoing through the hallways.

You lingered in the shadows, watching the scene unfold. It was a strange feeling, witnessing the band's transformation from the quiet guys you'd shared sandwiches with just hours ago to these larger-than-life rock stars.

The guys seemed to be used to it, their easygoing nature never faltering. They signed autographs and posed for pictures, their smiles genuine.

But as the crowd dispersed, you saw a rare glimpse of the band's true selves.

"Triple Frontier's not just a band," You penned in a rare moment of stillness. "They're a phenomenon, a revolution. And I'm right here, in the eye of the hurricane."

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

"Drinks on me, folks," Tom declared, his voice hoarse yet triumphant as he claimed a spot at the bar for the band, crew, and you. The band had decided they wanted to celebrate a good show with some drinks.

"Make that a bourbon, neat," You chimed in, slipping onto a stool beside Tom. Your adrenaline still coursed, mingling with anticipation and fatigue.

"Hard day at the office?" Tom joked, his gaze scanning the group to ensure everyone was accounted for and content.

"Something like that," You said, your eyes scanning the room for Frankie. He was somewhere amid the tangle of bodies and laughter, but maddeningly out of reach. You wanted to thank him for earlier.

The bartender slid a glass in front of you, the amber liquid beckoning.

"Bottoms up," Tom said, raising his own drink in a toast. "Here's to the end of a helluva first show on tour with us."

The whiskey was smooth, burning a warm trail down your throat. The buzz was instant, settling into your bones and loosening the knots that had been tying you up since you'd first stepped foot on the bus.

The conversation flowed freely, and you finally got to get acquainted with the roadies, a diverse group of people with varying stories of their own. It was nice, you thought, to be part of a community.

It had been a long time since you'd felt so at ease with a group of people, so included and welcomed. Your job, despite being the closest thing to a rockstar's life you'd ever experienced, had left you somewhat isolated.

And then there was Frankie, his eyes meeting yours across the room as if drawn by some magnetic force. But before your liquid courage could act upon it, Benny came up to you, his voice slurred but his eyes still clear with a mischievous glint.

"The newest girl on the bus, huh?" He said, leaning in close to your ear. His breath was warm and heavy, the smell of beer and cigarettes mixing with the warmth of his skin.

You narrowed your eyes at him, sensing the questionable compliment coming.

"Yeah, Ben," you replied, trying to keep things friendly but also cautious of his intentions.

"Well, you know what they say," he continued, a smirk playing on his lips, "behind every successful man, there's a woman holding down the fort."

You rolled your eyes, trying to laugh it off as you glanced around the bar, looking not only for Frankie amid the crowd this time but for someone to get you out of this.

"Benny, I don't need a man to be successful," you said, feeling a hint of irritation in your tone. "I can be successful on my own, thank you very much."

Benny let out a low chuckle, not treating your words as a serious rebuttal.

"Well, sure, honey, you can be successful without a man," he said, still smirking. "But let's be honest, it's not going to be as easy as if you had one to support you. I mean, think about it. Who's going to iron your clothes, cook your meals, and keep the house tidy when you're out there touring?"

"Benny..." Will had heard part of the conversation, and his face scrunched up in disapproval. "Lay off, man."

But Benny was relentless, "I'm just saying, sweetheart, it's a stark reality. A strong woman like you, you're gonna face a whole lot of challenges out there in the world, and it would sure be a lot easier with a good man on your side. Just remember, a good woman is hard to find these days. Maybe you'll be lucky enough to find one of the roadies to show you the ropes."

You felt the heat of embarrassment rising in your cheeks as you excused yourself from the conversation telling Tom briskly, "I think I'm gonna head back to the hotel, not feeling too well."

You stepped out of the bar, feeling the cool night air on your skin. You knew Benny was a good guy, you had seen it in the countless acts of kindness he showed the crew, but his words stung more than you had anticipated.

You'll never forget the first time someone made you feel invisible because of your gender. It was a sobering reminder that, despite your success, the industry was still a man's world. You were a woman, and women had no place in the rock 'n roll world, especially not as a journalist. You were a novelty, a rarity, an outlier. A pair of tits.

It was a painful realization, and one you had to learn to accept if you were going to make a name for yourself. You were more than just some bozo’s personal maid. You were a sharp mind, a skilled writer, and a tenacious spirit. And you were going to prove every jackass who thought that way including Benny wrong.

"Fuck 'em," you murmured, the alcohol making you bolder as you went into the payphone booth to call a taxi.

You didn't need anyone's approval or permission to do your job, and you damn well knew it.

You dialed the number for the taxi service and they promised a cab within the next 15 minutes. You sighed and leaned against the cool glass of the phone booth, trying to clear your mind. "Hey" a deep voice pulled you out of your thoughts. There was Frankie, leaning against the booth door, his expression unreadable.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yeah," you replied, feeling a twinge of guilt. "I'm sorry, I just-"

"No, I get it," Frankie cut you off, "I saw what happened back there and Will told us that Benny was being an asshole. I'm really sorry about that. He's usually a decent guy, but when he drinks..."

"It's alright. He's not the first asshole I've had to deal with and he won't be the last." You tried to sound more nonchalant than you felt.

Frankie carefully looked at you, you cursed yourself for feeling so exposed in his gaze. “Do you have a ride back to the hotel?”

You nodded, "Yeah, the taxi will be here soon. I should probably go wait for it, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Frankie said, "If you want some company, I can go back with you. I'm not really in the mood to be around a bunch of drunk assholes, myself."

The offer caught you off guard, but the idea of having Frankie as company seemed comforting. "That would be...nice, actually."

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

You nursed a whiskey, the ice clinking against the glass as you swirled it absentmindedly. The bar at the hotel was dimly lit, casting long shadows over the bottles that lined the shelves and reflected in the mirror behind them. Frankie slid onto the stool beside you, coming back from the bathroom.

"Another round?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

"Let’s do it." You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling. Frankie matched your smile and ordered for the both of you. You liked that he knew what you wanted without needing to ask. He sighed, the tension easing from his broad shoulders as he leaned back, resting his elbows on the bar.

"So," he continued, turning towards you, "how's the article coming along?"

"Slowly but surely," you replied, your eyes tracing the edge of your glass. "I feel like I'm still getting used to all of this."

"Honestly?" He looks thoughtful as he takes his hat off and cards through his dark curls. "It's kind of hard for us, too."

You raise your eyebrows at him, curious.

"Yeah," he continues, "I mean, it's been a lot to adjust to. And it's not just the crazy schedule and the traveling, the fans. Trying to fit my daughter into all of this. It's the media and the pressure and all the expectations. It's a lot to take in."

"I bet," you agree, nodding slowly. "But I can see how it would be pretty exciting, too.”

Frankie hums in agreement, "It is. It's just a lot. It's like, this is something we never thought was actually possible and now that it's happening, I don't know, I just never really expected it to be like this."

"Like what?"

He shrugs, "I don't know. So big. So fast. I guess I just always thought we'd have more time to enjoy it, you know? Before it all gets so crazy."

You give him a small smile, "I get that. But nights like tonight, where the whole bar wants to buy you a drink, should be easy to enjoy."

"Yeah," he agrees, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "you're right. Unless your drunk bandmate decides to bother the sweet Rolling Stone reporter to where she wants to leave the party."

You feel the warmth of a blush creeping up your neck, "It wasn't really that bad, I just..."

"You don't have to explain," he interrupts, his voice gentle. "Just because this is your job doesn't mean people can talk to you like that."

You take a sip of your newly placed drink, feeling the burn of the whiskey as it spreads warmth through your body.

"I know," you agree, "but I'm used to it. The industry is a man's world and women, especially journalists, are seen as outsiders. It's just part of the job, I guess."

Frankie lets out a low whistle, "It sounds like a lot of bullshit, honestly. But hey, if you're tough enough to handle all of that, you're tough enough to handle whatever comes your way."

You smile at him, appreciating his support. "Thanks, Frankie. I really appreciate it."

He nods, "Of course. Like I said, if you ever need anything, just know I've got your back."

You take another sip of your drink, feeling the tension of the night begin to fade. The liquor was doing a great job of releasing any inhibitions or shyness you had with Frankie. The two of you talked and laughed about everything.

There was something comforting about his steady presence, his warm laughter resonating with your own. As the night wore on, the bar began to empty out, the loud chatter and clinking glasses giving way to the soft hum of a late-night radio. "My Love" by Paul McCartney & Wings filled the air.

"God, I love this song." You said, leaning against him. “This might be controversial but McCartney is way better than Lennon."

"Lennon has passion, though. He's a rebel," Frankie countered, a smile on his lips.

"I have to say, though, radio never does a song justice," you mused. "You lose the depth—the soul of the vinyl."

"Couldn't agree more." Frankie looked down at you, his eyes softening.

Those damn brown eyes.

"Then maybe..." Frankie began, hesitation making his voice just a bit uneven, but before he could finish his thought, the bartender made an announcement- "Last call!”

You both glanced at your watches, realizing how late it was. Where had the time gone?

“Guess we lost track of time,” you said, a little surprised.

Frankie rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Yeah," he agreed. “I guess we did.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken thoughts and feelings that neither of you were quite ready to articulate.

"Hey," You perked up. "I brought my Red Rose Speedway vinyl."

He stood up and offered you his hand, "How about we get out of here and give it a proper listen?"

You hesitated for a second before taking it. His hand was warm, fingers firm against your own, and you felt the uninvited familiarity of those damn butterflies.

"I think I'd love that," you answered with a small smile that reflected in his eyes.

You hesitated for a second before taking it. His hand was warm, fingers firm against your own, and you felt the uninvited familiarity of those damn butterflies.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

You couldn’t believe he was on your hotel room couch.

His large body sprawled out on the floral pattern, elbow resting on the armrest and head propped up by his hand as he watched you rummage through your luggage. The dull light from the lone lamp in the corner of the room cast long shadows across his features, accentuating his strong jawline and nose.

"Got it," you exclaimed, triumphantly holding up the vinyl.

He looked over at you with eager eyes, a smile playing on his lips.

You placed the small record player on the table next to the couch, carefully placing the record on the turntable and lowering the needle. The crackle of anticipation filled the room as the music began to play. You sat down on the couch next to Frankie, his presence a warm and reassuring closeness in the low-lit room. The opening notes of "Big Barn Bed" flooded into the room.

"I can try to skip it to 'My Love' if you want me to." You suggested.

"No, I like it. I like it a lot," he replied, his eyes fixed on you.

The two of you sat in silence as the song played, the air between you thick with tension. As the last notes of the song faded away, you turned to look at Frankie, your eyes meeting his.

"What do you think?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze remained steady on your face, the corners of his mouth twitching into a soft smile. "I think," he began, his voice matching yours in its whisper-soft delivery, "I think I needed this...a little bit of music, a little bit of normality. And you."

"I needed this too," you admitted softly.

His hand found yours on the couch, fingers entwining with a comforting familiarity. The intimacy of the moment sent a swell of warmth through your body.

Frankie's gaze never left yours as he leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours for permission. You found yourself holding your breath, your heart pounding against your chest as he closed the distance between you.

His lips met yours in a soft, slow kiss that made your head spin.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your lips, pulling back slightly to study your expression.

"Yes," you wrapped your hands around his neck. "It's more than okay."

Your lips met again, deepening the kiss and asking for more. He tasted like smokey liquor and cigarettes

His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, your bodies molding together on that floral pattern couch.

You moved to straddle him on the couch, the flowing skirt from your mini-dress bunching up around your waist as you moved.

Frankie's hands came to rest on your hips, thumbs tracing small circles through the thin fabric of your dress. Looking into your eyes for permission, he started to slowly lift the hem, his touch on your bare skin.

Your hands drifted to his hair, tangling your fingers in the dark curls and removing his hat. There was an urgency in his movements now, a raw need that echoed your own.

His lips, hot and insistent, traced a path down your neck and you began to move against him, riding out the want building within you.

Without hesitation, he lifted you from the couch and carried you to the spacious bed on the other side of the room. He laid you down gently and you lifted your arms, allowing him to carefully pull the dress over your head and toss it aside. His eyes raked over your bare body, your breasts exposed to his intense gaze.

"Took my damn breath away," he murmured. He removed his clothes except for his underwear, exposing his tanned chest and soft belly.

Then, with a gentle push, he allowed himself to be pulled down onto the bed next to you, both of you inhaling sharply as skin met skin. His hand traced a gentle path from your shoulder down to your waist, ending his trail between your legs.

His thumb found your swollen clit, gently circling it. Your hips bucked in response, a soft moan escaping your lips. His fingers slipped lower, sliding into you with ease. His eyes stayed locked on yours the entire time, drinking in every reaction, every shudder of pleasure that coursed through you.

Your hand found his hard length, trapped in the fabric of his underwear. Without a pause, you slipped your hand within the elastic band and drew him out.

A low, guttural moan came out of him as you stroked his thick cock, pre-cum already beading at the tip.

"You're gonna kill me," he growled, his hips thrusting involuntarily into your touch.

He shallowly thrust his thick fingers inside you, matching the rhythm of your hand on him. Your soft moans filled the room, mingling with the faint strains of the next song on the vinyl.

When you came, his mouth found yours again, swallowing your gasps and moans as he helped you come down. His thumb was still gently circling your clit.

He removed his fingers from you and gripped your wrist, gently but firmly. His eyes searched yours, a silent question written on his features. You nodded, understanding his need.

Your bodies shifted on the soft bed sheets, Frankie positioning himself between your legs. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against yours.

"Tell me you want this," he whispered.

"I want this." Your words were breathless, barely audible.

He slid into you slowly, filling you completely. Your fingers dug into the muscles of his back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning against your skin.

"Oh fuck," he grunted.

The feeling of him inside you was unreal, his thick length stretching and filling you in ways that nobody had ever done before. He slowly inched himself into you until he bottomed out, and for a moment the two of you just stayed there, breathing each other in; the whiskey, the weed, the road. You both smelled the same but also so different, and you both wanted to know more.

"Fuck, baby." He breathed.

And then he began to move. His hips rocked back and forth in a steady rhythm, his cock gliding in and out of you. You matched his rhythm, wrapping your legs around his waist and urging him deeper.

You both moved together, lost in the sensation of each other's bodies. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the air, mixed with the faint music still drifting in from the record player.

He lifted his head, his gaze fixed on yours as he continued his slow thrusts. His hands roamed your body, squeezing and pinching your breasts and ass, exploring every inch of you.

You gripped the back of his neck, pulling him down into a passionate kiss. His tongue traced your lips before entering your mouth, deepening the kiss.

His pace began to quicken, the friction between you building. His cock filled you completely, hitting all the right spots, and the pleasure was almost overwhelming.

"Fuck, I'm so close." He grunted, his hands gripping your hips as he thrust deeper.

He reached between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit again and applying the perfect amount of pressure.

It was enough to send you over the edge. Your orgasm washed over you in waves, his name tumbling from your lips as you clung to him.

He came a few seconds later, his cock throbbing inside you and spilling his cum into you.

"Fuck." His forehead pressed against yours, his breathing ragged.

He rolled off you and lay down on the bed beside you, the both of you coming down from your high. He pulled you close, your head resting on his chest.

The record was still spinning, the soft crackle of the vinyl the only sound in the room.

"Holy shit." You murmured, trailing your fingers along his chest.

He nodded, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. Holy shit."

You both laughed, the tension in the air broken by mutual satisfaction, what felt like a great exhale to your tension. You rested your chin on his chest, gazing up at him.

"Thank you," you whispered, suddenly feeling shy.

"For what?" He raised an eyebrow.

"For... well, for everything. For tonight, and for just being you." You smiled at him.

He grinned, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "Thank you, too. This was the best night I've had in a long time."

You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing briefly. "Me, too."

The two of you lay in silence for a while, content to just be close. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, his fingers idly playing with your hair.

"Frankie..." You whispered.

"Hmm?" He responded, his voice soft.

"If you're tired, you can stay..." You trailed off, suddenly unsure of yourself. Maybe this was all too forward?

He pulled you closer, planting a kiss on the top of your head. "I'd like that," he murmured, his eyes already beginning to droop closed.

You smiled, snuggling closer to him and feeling his heartbeat against your skin. The night had ended up being more than either of you expected, and it seemed the morning would be no different.

The two of you fell asleep, tangled together, as the vinyl record finally stopped spinning and the night came to a quiet end.

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gffa · 1 year

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John Gaius is less interesting to me as someone who is just a shallowly awful person, and vastly, infinitely more interesting to me as an intensely human person with the powers of a god and that has fucked him up. The things he does to his friends are done out of grief, because he doesn’t want them to be gone, it’s out of the loss of those he loved that he brings them back, that there’s almost something numb about him until the depression or the rage or the sorrow hits, because like he’s Jod, he didn’t get to where he was by being able to die, and that’s terrifying for others, but I can’t help thinking that it’s really fucked him up, too, because all that power, it’s just there, it’s in him all the time, and when someone betrays you and you have the power and invulnerability of a god and you’re a hot goddamned mess because you’re still just a person who has lived through so much pain and grief and loss, you react like a human and you reform yourself out of your own atoms and permanently explode people and go, right then, either you’re loyal or you die, because you’re fucking pissed, and you don’t want to fucking deal with it anymore, because you don’t have to, you’re God, you have the power to say, no, this stops here, loyalty or die, make your fucking choice now, instead of continuing to walk that tightrope of lying to your friends but trying to make it up to them and feeling guilty but also feeling angry, all while you’re so fucking tired. But then you feel more guilt about it, because you’re a person and you’re not trying to be a dictator, you’re trying to make the galaxy better, you’re trying lighten the mood, because it’s ten thousand fucking years and if you don’t embrace your love of puns being hilarious, then everything’s going to be so fucking boring, and you’re still angry at the trillionaires. You stop time and tell everyone to stop attacking each other because you’re so fucking tired and just don’t want to deal with it anymore. You’re so fucking careful, even around your friends, not to bleed around them because you know what that can lead to. I feel like John is a character who isn’t evil so much as every step is an understandable one he made, each one is a very human reaction when you have the context of everything that happened before, and then layer a whole lot of depression and guilt and anger on top of all those decisions. Is he doing terrible things? Yeah, and he’s fucking terrifying to be around, he tries so hard to be affable and gentle, but he has so much power and he’s Just A Fucking Guy, a guy who wanted to save the world and started out from a place that so many of us have started out from, each step he took to where he got and why he lied are understandable ones, the weight inside him one that I can empathize with, I too am not always the kindest when I’m depressed, I too am not always one to make the best decisions when I feel torn between wanting to help people vs how to actually get there, like if I was face to face with a real chance to save the world, wouldn’t I do some shady things to make sure it got done, because the world hung in the balance? Wouldn’t I fall into depression when weighed down by all that responsibility to do something when I had the power/ability to do it? Where is the single point at which he should have said no and turned back, given all that had come before? I don’t see John Gaius as a character who set out to become Necrolord Prime, that that was the intended arc, so much as he kept making one decision after another, decisions that come from a place of very human nature, and eventually we’re here, with the weight of all those decisions behind him and no one single place that really was a hard turning point. And also a whole lot of depression. Anyway, he’s my poor little meow meow and I hope he’s dictator of the universe for life because it’s very funny and also gives me feelings.

#the locked tomb #the locked tomb spoilers #john gaius #lumi.txt

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goodomenskinkyrambles · 5 months

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Disclaimer: I reference kink as a way of processing and letting yourself ‘feel’. Imo, this is a very legitimate and intimate experience if communication, consent, trust, and boundaries etc are respected, and it is not relied upon in place of therapy etc.

Aziraphale comes across as a pillow princess, but this is only because he fears repercussions / is in denial about being on ‘their own side’ when it comes to intimacy.

Whenever Aziraphale gains the confidence to be more himself, his dominance starts to show through. Here, we start to see a switch who is primarily a gentle dom with a subtle sadistic streak.

He enjoys making Crowley follow his orders. He likes to see him squirm as the Demon fights with his pride, only to ultimately give in to his Angel’s wishes.

Crowley is a masochistic brat / bratty sub.

But what about the “Rescue” scene in France?

In S2, Aziraphale reveals that he usually has a plan, but that Crowley loves to feel like he’s saving him. This is a classic ‘power play’. Aziraphale is in control all along —luring Crowley in, playing up to Crowley’s pride… only to rip it away.

And this is very reminiscent of Crowley’s fall.

It is shown throughout that Crowley struggles with the traumatic experience of his fall, especially given the circumstances. He was simply asking “why”. So, what better way to release this trauma, and process it, than in a safe and intimate environment? With his Angel, he can be vulnerable —though they haven’t fully gotten to this point, due to their perilous position with Heaven and Hell.

Being seen, especially through the intimacy of kink, can be a beautiful and healing thing.

And so, our Demon plays up to his pride —his protective shell, shielding him from his anger, his confusion, his pain— and Aziraphale lets him have this, until he doesn’t. As an Angel, he is the perfect person to deconstruct the Demon, and reveal those layers.

Here, Crowley can brat, and ask ‘why’, and be ‘punished’, and have the power taken forcibly away from him, but can still be loved and held and seen as ‘good’. He can writhe in anger and struggle against the loss of power, and still be comforted rather than abandoned. He can be ignored when he is in need, in favour of a good book, but still be taken care of afterwards and never truly discarded.

He’s been in free fall for so long, that for all his feigned confidence and self-assertiveness, the highest form of freedom he can get would be in the form of rope, and intimacy with his Angel, where he doesn’t have to pretend to be strong, or free of worries, or unaffected by things, or tough all the time.

But it is by NO means all about Crowley.

Aziraphale constantly doubts himself, and has constantly been patronised and abused by Heaven and his so-called ‘superiors’ (looking at S1 you, Gabriel).

What better way for Aziraphale to own his thoughts and freedom, and gain confidence in his words, thoughts, ideas, and his own *will*, than in the safe headspace kink provides. Many a time, he has shown himself to have a slight, tantalising edge to him. In S2, he looked every bit the dominant when asserting that /yes, Crowley would be doing the “I was wrong” dance/.

Aziraphale’s style of dominance is subtle but incredibly strong when you’re able to see it.

In S1, he subtly hints that Crowley should remove the stain from his jacket —an action he can easily do, but wanted Crowley to do. Although it can be argued that he wanted this as a display of affection and because it’s ‘not the same’ if he does it himself, it is also a power play —and there are many of these subtleties scattered throughout. Aziraphale’s gentle (but foreboding) approach to dominance shows when we see how little convincing it takes for Crowley to catch on and (brattily, begrudgingly) follow Aziraphale’s whims.

These moments of feigned petulance could be interpreted as Aziraphale himself bratting, but really, Aziraphale always comes out on top —no pun intended— and has an air of unknown power about him. His gentle, airy, and petulant moments makes it all the more hedonistic when he switches to steely, strategising, and commanding. He lets himself indulge in fine foods, intricate books, and good wine. If he let himself indulge in intimacy, I think his particular and exacting nature would show through. Like crepes —he knows exactly what he wants, and will go to great lengths to get it… be it a good book, or Crowley accepting that he is ‘a little bit good’ via an intensely emotional scene.

But what about Crowley throwing him against the wall?!

Well, it looks like said intensive scene would follow, if Aziraphale chose to ‘correct’ Crowley on his insistence of not being nice.

To conclude, though I will happily write more and converse about this all day, and would love to add gifs and examples some day…

Psychologically, it makes the most sense for Aziraphale to naturally side towards dominance. I sometimes feel that for Aziraphale, alluding towards submission just doesn’t do him justice. It would put Crowley —ever the tempter— in control. Previously, Aziraphale’s sense of duty has taken the angel’s control and will from him. Gabriel has taken his power from him. His own anxieties and worries have done the same.

Aziraphale’s growth lies in his dominance, and his self-assertion. By “taking down” his beloved Tempter & serpent, in the most intimate way possible, he is proving that he has made his choice with his own mind, is regaining and revelling in his own power, his own will, and his own desires.

By allowing himself to access this power, he proves this to himself, to the whole of Heaven, and to Crowley.

He proves that, regardless of temptation, he *chooses* Crowley.

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touchlikethesun · 2 months

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i’ve been thinking about haikyuu name meanings again, so i thought i’d share two of the name meanings that make me smile a lot :)))

木　boku - tree 兎　to - rabbit (?) 光　kou - shining, glory, pride 太郎　tarou - “great” son or first son 赤　aka - red, communism (??) 葦　ashi - reed (?) 京　kei - ten quadrillion; other readings (kyou, tokyo), capital city 治　ji - govern, regulate

so i’ve purposefully kept the direct kanji meanings, even tho most of them are simple and/or non sensical when applied to bokuto and akaashi’s character. but i've done so to replicate my own confusion and (hopefully) eventual satisfaction when i’d worked tho the many layers of word play.

so the first character of bokuto’s name 木 (tree) i originally thought was supposed to tie him to owls, yknow bc owls are often sitting in trees, and that might be part of it, but when 木 is used in adjectival constructions (so instead of ‘tree’ it might mean more ‘wooden’) and applied to people it often carries pejorative connotations of stupidity, close to the english ‘blockheaded’ - which i have to admit. did make me chuckle. (note: i thought there might be some connection between boku and boke the insult kags is always launching at hinata but they seem to be unrelated go figure)

兎 (to) was another confusing one, since ordinarily 兎 is the character for usagi (rabit), but when read as to there didn't seem to be any real mean associated with it, which is funny because most of the names in hq!! have more thought put into them then that. i was just about to write it off, when i looked up the two kanji together on wiktionary and-

木兎　mimizuko - alt. spelling for eagle/horned owl

see above: eagle owl and bokuto koutarou for comparaison.

so basically in bokuto's name there is both a pun calling him a bit thick and a pun with the type of owl that inspired him how fucking incredible is that??? i personally love it

光太郎 (koutarou) seems to be a bit more of a traditional name, and we also have a very clear in-universe explanation for it's meaning. bokuto is the youngest of three with two older sisters, and it seems mr and mrs bokuto were very proud to finally have a son (ehhh patriarchy sucks sorry it is what it is) and wanted to give him a name that reflected their feelings. however, i do also think that 光 can also be taken to represent bokuto's presence in the series as a whole.

the first meaning of 光 being 'shining' obviously makes me think of the most bokuaka line in all of canon "we are the stars of the world" (ik some translations use protagonists in place of stars but shhh i'm being symbolic plus the vers i read used "stars"), because bokuto is such a star, he shines so brightly, and motivates so many people (the least of whom being akaashi and the rest of fukurodani). bokuto was always destined for glory and stardom in volleyball, but i think he's also just. so bright of a person. like yes, ofc he has his moods and his caprices, but that doesn't change how much he just, well, shines, brightens up a room. i don't know how much of this was intentional or accidental, but i like it.

like with bokuto's name, i ran into a bit of trouble with 赤葦 (akaashi) at first. literally, it means red reed, which didn't really seem significant. although 赤 (aka) also means 'red' as in 'communist' so now even tho it is certainly not at all the intended meaning i now and forever will headcanon akaashi as being a communist or someone at the very least well versed in communist theory. however, like with bokuto, akaashi's name is actually a reference to アカアシフクロウ (akaashi-fukuro) or アカアシモリフクロウ (akaashi-mori-fukuro), so another type of owl

i've already talked about what i find so amusing about 京治 (keiji) in this post, but to summarise here (actually maybe this counts as an expansion?), the most relevant part to akaashi's character is the second kanji 治, meaning to govern or to regulate. 治 is sometimes used on it's own, but it is also often used in compounds related to peace, healing, (and politics, my commie akaashi headcanon wins again hahaha).

i think akaashi's character evolves from what it was intended to be, and i'm not sure how accurate this meaning is by the time we reach the end of canon (or maybe i've just been reading to much bokuaka fic and it's skewing my perception of him), but akaashi started out a bit like bokuto's external emotional regulator. for someone with as insane mood swings as bokuto, mood swings that other people struggled to understand and react to, he must have had quite a hard time, and indeed we're shown that his difficulties managing his emotions seriously and negatively affects his performance on the court. enter akaashi. akaashi, who through careful observation, quickly learns to not just react to bokuto's mood swings, but to understand them, their causes, and even eventually to anticipate them, effectively giving bokuto the tools he needs to learn to control his emotions and continue giving his all like akaashi knows he can.

i think it's relevant that 治 is also used to talk about healing and peace, (and not just governing which has rather unfortunate implications of control and coercion that i don't particularly like) because that is what akaashi's presence in bokuto's life ultimately provides, as evidenced by bokuto's growth by the end of the series ("hey look guys i'm just a normal ace!" meaning he's learned to manage his emotions by himself, something that i think would have been a much longer and harder journey without akaashi's influence).

when i said i'm not sure how accurate 治 is when applied to akaashi's character by the end of the series, i mean that i think it downplays the reciprocal nature of bokuto and akaashi's relationship, because for as much as akaashi helps bokuto manage his mood swings, bokuto also provides a lot of emotional support and motivation to akaashi. and i'm not sure this was something that furudate had already taken into account when first coming up with these characters.

i think there might be smaller symbolic meaning relating to akaashi's position as a setter, but that's really only a minor detail i think...

anyways, there you have it! bokuaka kanji meanings and thoughts!! do let me know if you have different interpretations, or if i've missed something, i really really reallyyyyy like talking about things like this but for now brb i am going to go read like a dozen bokuaka oneshots xx

#i feel like their names being owl refs is common knowledge like i feel like i already knew that #and had just forgotten #so to anyone that didn't already know or needed the reminder #here it is lol #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #bokuaka #haikyuu #fukurodani

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aethon-recs · 1 year

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30 Tomarrymort Recs for February 2023

I keep telling myself that I won't do month-by-month recs and that they're too much of a commitment, but then a month like February hits where there were so many knock-out Tomarrymort fics published that I couldn’t resist celebrating all the incredible works posted in the last month, including for two Tomarrymort-themed fests. Apologies that this is coming a bit late in the month — it took me quite some time to write up thoughts on each due to the huge influx of unforgettable fic in February!

Criteria for this list: one-shot, complete, published in February 2023, in alphabetical order by title. It’s quite an extensive list, but every single one of these is worth reading.

Tomarrymort Recs (February 2023)

A Lesson Learned Well by @ellionne (M, 2k)

A very creepy take on a captive Harry and how he slowly starts to lose his mind until Voldemort can get him to do anything. ‘Anything’ includes some pretty gruesome cannibalism and other horrors!

Amensalism by @cindle-writes (E, 6k)

Tentacle sex! Inspired by the Venom movie! Harry/Scarcrux based off Eddie/Venom! Need I say more?

Anchor the Moon by Xenjn (M, 8k)

A very cool spin on genderswapped Tom and Harry who attend Hogwarts together! No matter the setting or era, Harry is obsessed with stalking Tom and proving she’s up to no good.

Anniversary by @vdoshu (E, 4k)

The last place that Harry would want to have sex is back in his cupboard at 4 Privet Drive. Yet Voldemort still takes him there for their anniversary. The mind games in here are absolutely top-tier!

Because it is his by TheOnceandFutureQueenofTarts (E, 2k)

An experiment in polyjuice leads Harry to discover that Tom is extremely attracted to… Tom. A truly hilarious take on Tom Riddle’s unhinged and unparalleled levels of narcissism!

Cynosure by @wolfantlersinspace (E, 3k)

When Voldemort steps out of the cauldron, he is the hottest man in existence. We've all seen that scene in the 4th movie! Harry can’t help but feel the same way, despite how much he tries to resist it...

Eulogy by @meles-merrivale (E, 6k)

A brooding, pensive glimpse into a day in the life of Harry who’s been raised by Voldemort. How Harry yearns for him, yet never quite gets the emotional fulfillment he so craves is heartbreaking! I gasped at the ending!

Frigid by @mrviran (E, 3k)

I don’t know if the world is ready yet for Puritanical Voldemort, but if you think you might be, this fic does it BEST. The way Voldemort fixes Harry is so… chilling (pun intended — it'll all be clear once you read the fic!)

Honeyguide by @cannibalinc (E, 7k)

Tom, an unmatched Omega, is determined to have Harry as his Alpha, no matter the costs. The rut scene is so intense, with Harry completely losing control in a very sexy (and dangerous!) way.

Identity by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 5k)

Harry and Tom go on a road trip together to celebrate their anniversary. The reveals in this fic were SO GOOD, I didn’t see any of them coming — crowthing skillfully delivers intricately layered tangled plots-within-plots in just 5k words.

In the library by @chiocchi (G, Art)

Harry and Tom studying in the library — with an adorable depiction of Tom letting his guard down around Harry. Both the scene and the coloring are so very soft!

Insatiate by @vdoshu (E, 2k)

A very bleak and dark take on an AU where Voldemort wins and Harry lives a very empty life, only to be filled by Voldemort’s cocks and some magical immortality juice.

it's kind of tripping me up babe, i've got it bad for you by @limonium-anemos (E, 3k)

Harry and Voldemort get isekai'ed into a cursed romance-novel AU. I love how all the long-standing love and trust between Harry and Voldemort shines through in this fic, as they make the best of their time in this very wacky erotica setting by fucking each other's brains out.

Keepsake by IceLynx (M, 5k)

Harry suffering from amnesia wakes up with Voldemort telling him that they're in a relationship. But when the pieces don’t quite add up, Harry discovers the horrifying truth. A very creative twist at the end!

アンバランスなKissをして by vash (E, 2k)

A show-stopping alternate ending to the Final Battle, with Harry asking for a final kiss from Voldemort.

Matriphagy by @being-luminous (M, 2k)

This fic takes the whole “Voldemort hunting Harry because of a prophecy” origin story, and adds a vampire twist to it. The floaty and detached vibe is a really nice contrast to the visceral horrors of what’s happening on-page — very skillfully done!

Phalanx by @vdoshu (E, 4k)

There’s a reason why Voldemort doesn’t wear shoes, which Harry, to his horror (and our delight), finds out firsthand. The foot worship in here is magnificently over-the-top in very satisfying detail.

Quiet as the Moon by @itsevanffs (M, 2k)

A Beauty and the Beast AU that’s a sequel to @duplicitywrites’ Certain as the Sun. I thought what was a really nice touch is how we see the state of their (unhappy) relationship through flashbacks interspersing the main action — in just a few sentences, itsevanffs manages to paint a picture of a very wretched existence for Harry, before he takes matters into his own hands.

Research and Development by @cannibalinc (E, 6k)

Voldemort captures Harry and proceeds to experiment on him. And by ‘experiment’, I mean, carve Harry up and fuck him with his hemipenes in delightfully gratuitous, violent and unrestrained, and gushingly hot fashion.

Right in Front of My Salad? by IceLynx (T, 2k)

Draco Malfoy dies right in the middle of Harry and Tom’s kitchen (rude). A hilarious sequence of misunderstandings ensues, which leave you with no doubt that Harry and Tom are absolutely perfect for each other.

Run Boy Run by @youknowmevj (E, 6k)

The ultimate chase & capture fic. The anticipation builds with every one of Harry’s steps as he's trying to run away, and we’re left with some delicious emotional manipulation and a very hot wall sex scene at the end.

silk of midnight and dawn by @ilya-zzz (E, 3k)

Such a cool concept! Harry and Tom decide to become animagi, and when Tom transforms into his animagus form, his animal instincts kick in... and Harry is right there unable to defend himself...

Tantrums by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 5k)

Featuring the brattiest Tom I’ve ever come across, and an incredibly impulsive Harry who can’t resist Tom’s allures. You'd think this combination would automatically spell destruction and disaster, but they actually work out really well together in a surprisingly compatible way!

Tearing me apart (like a new emotion) by @rudehellion (E, 2k)

As this fic progresses, the horror of what’s happening to Harry in his forced marriage to Voldemort continues to build and build. Not only is Harry getting taken part physically, he’s also getting taken apart mentally ("Every night, there’s a little more trust to break.") I loved what the ending implies for Voldemort’s favorite hobby.

That's Your Boyfriend by @solavonn (G, Art)

This artwork is so cute!! Depicting Harry who's overwhelmed by how hot his Quidditch boyfriend Tom is. Harry's not the only one — Solavonn's Tom Riddle art is always so good-looking that we all feel the same way, Harry!

The Green Herring by @duplicitywrites (G, 1k)

A hilarious cracky take on what exactly Tom Riddle thinks of his boyfriend Harry’s very special, very extraordinary, very memorable eye colour.

The sweet burn of venom by @loneamaryllis (E, 4k)

SMOKIN’ HOT ABO! Harrie goes through her first heat, and Voldemort provides relief, but is he really there, or is it a (very hot) dream?

thrice-bound, twice-filled by @cindle-writes (E, 4k)

Voldemort. Hemipenes. Double-stuffing Harry. A perfect setup for a very hot pwp!

We're (Not) Together by @vdoshu (E, 3k)

This fic is the EPITOME of gaslighting and manipulation. An extremely controlling Tom refuses to accept that he and Harry aren’t still together… or are they?

you alone of all creatures by @duplicitywrites (E, 3k)

I love the concept of Tom having an illicit affair with his very sexy and married Professor Potter. All the sneaking around is SO HOT as he seduces Harry and cracks open his defenses bit-by-bit.

#tomarry #harrymort #tomarrymort #tomarry recs #tomarrymort recs #hp fic recs #one-shot recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #harrymort recs #2023 reads #2023 recs

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hotasfahrenheit · 2 months

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hi hello annyeong we're back for another riveting episode of Umbrella Propaganda so let's look at this week's entries!

we had a lot of repeat umbrellas this week and since there were so few new ones, here's the repeats first:

we saw the white, lace trimmed umbrella in a flashback last week, and the red umbrella being used by Yoh last week as well. honestly i think this is the red umbrella that Pun was carrying closed in the first episode so i'm going to knock my overall count down by one for that repeat. the dark blue umbrella is also from episode one.

the new sightings!

there's only three so I'm not squishing them together.

this episode was lighter on the umbrellas than last week for sure but last week was so many flashback shots rapid fire so i don't expect that to happen again. i'm still loving the variety of umbrellas tho! and even with repeats we've already seen an IMPRESSIVE number of umbrellas.

my favourite this week was the green umbrella from the first rooftop scene of the episode- it has a second layer under it that's more of an olive green and it just looked really neat from below.

you can see it better here in this screenshot i took for the post I made about Pun and Yoh smiling at each other like idiots in love, which they are 💖

this episode umbrella count: 3

total series umbrella count: 17

#pun's umbrella catalogue #umbrella propaganda #1000 years old #1000 years old the series #umbrella posting

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fortheloveofshitsandgiggles · 7 months

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Unreal Unearth is an album that means a lot to me. It’s one of if not the greatest albums I’ve ever heard. Each song impacts me in a different way, so I wanted to go through each song with my own experience and interpretations (disclaimer, some of these analyses are my personal interpretation or how I react to the song, art is subjective and is what you make it)

De Selby (Part 1): oh my god I’ve been dying to hear Hozier sing in Gaeilge. I actually sang a song in Gaeilge in choir a few years back, and while it was difficult for me pronunciation wise, it was super fun to sing and is a beautiful and underrated language in my opinion. I also adore how haunting it is. It sounds like the soundtrack to my crisis (and it has been). I struggle to explain it, but the melody is so tormenting, especially with the layered voices in the second half of the Gaeilge verse. They feel very ghost like. It’s such an incredible way to introduce us into the decent into hell.

Transition: Yes I’m giving this special section because it’s one of the greatest song transitions I’ve ever heard. It’s really difficult to transition from a slow song into an upbeat one, but this one did it in a way that allows my brain to adjust to the difference in tempo. First of all, it lowers in pitch until it matches the key of part 2, musically representing our slow decent into hell. Then it starts with this beat that goes into part 2, and to me, this represents a building of insanity, one that is further explored in part 2.

De Selby (part 2): This is one of my favorite songs on the entire album. First of all, the beat is so addictive and the song generally makes me want to shake my ass. But beyond that, this song encompasses insanity in a way that I haven’t seen before but is also so relatable. Even with the music video, like there are times where I have felt exactly like the guy in the video and I just want to run into the abyss and forget everything and hit myself with a shovel. Hozier has such a talent for making relatability so artistic and unreal (forgive the pun).

First Time: This song is so full of complex lyricism that I couldn’t even begin to dive into. It’s super vibey, which I appreciate. A few notable lyrics I’d like to point out is “But you spoke some quick new music that went so far to soothe this soul as it was and ever shall be, unearth without a name.” I don’t know if anyone’s talked about this, but this lyric was so similar to the “glory be” prayer (I grew up Catholic lol) that goes “glory be to the father, the son, and the Holy Spirit, as it was and ever shall be, a world without end.” I don’t know if that was intentional/ the direct inspiration but I def did a double take when I heard that lyric. If it is intentional, I love how he twists it from a praise god I’ll get into Heaven sort of plea into describing the limbo we are trapped in, unearth without a name. The other lyric is “These days I think I owe my life to flowers that were left here by my mother, Ain't that like them, giftin' life to you again” I just think that’s such a sweet line that appreciates the kindness in humanity, especially so many mothers including my own. I would like to give a shoutout to Hozier’s mom for birthing and raising him, I would love to shake hands with her.

Francesca: This is maybe one of the best songs Hozier has ever put out. It has been on repeat since the second he dropped it. First of all, the sheer concept of this song, to love someone so full and so deeply that you would endure every ounce of pain and suffering that is inflicted on you because of this love, that is so powerful and just has such an element of storytelling that is as thrilling as watching a movie. To endure such hardship for the sake of a simple touch makes me want to cry. We all want something like that, to be protected and to be worth the sacrifice of another. And the lyrics encompass that perfectly, especially “Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I.” Now, being religiously traumatized myself, Heaven is a concept that I’ve gotten to know well. Eternal bliss and joy in the comfort of Jesus. It has hung over my head and has been used to keep me in the religion, especially as a comfort when it comes to the concept of death. But to say that even this place of eternal bliss and love and joy isn’t fit for the kind of love we possess just absolutely guts me. It is just beyond incredible.

I, Carrion (Icarian): As if Francesca wasn’t devastating enough, Hozier had to follow it up with this one. I absolutely love the use of Icarus imagery in songs, I love Icarus by Bastille (it especially reminds me of Crowley and Aziraphale from Good Omens). I know he used Icarus imagery in previous songs, and this is no hate to Sunlight, but I was def looking for something gentler that further explored the different perspectives of the story. And you know what, Hozier delivered. To paint the fall as something beautiful or as not even perceiving it as a tragedy is such a fresh take that I love the exploration of. “If I should fall on that day I only pray don’t fall away from me,” that hit me like a bag of bricks when I first heard it. Like, he’s plummeting from the sky, and still says “allow the ground to find its brutal way to me.” No matter what the ground holds for me, as long as I’m falling with you, everything will be alright. It becomes this state of delusion that is both heartwarming and devastating.

Eat Your Young: This song is what I have affectionately and repeatedly referred to as the “sexiest political commentary I’ve ever heard.” The melody and beat are so seductive, which just contributes to the appeal of the message, despite it being a pretty horrifying one. But it is from the perspective of the villain, which is an interesting point to write from. To say that it’s easier to cut out the middle man and eat your children rather than do atrocious things for power and money that will kill them anyways is such a relevant take on not only politics and capitalism but just the greedy side of humanity in general. The song is almost a trick, like it makes the greed sound so appealing and acts as a siren song to push the narrator’s unreliable narrative.

Damage Gets Done: I love Hozier songs that dive into the feeling of being young. Songs like Sedated and even Jackie and Wilson are reminiscent of that. We often think we’re indestructible when we’re young and we think we can do anything. We become reckless, but that recklessness isn’t what kills us. It’s the people in power who damage us with the laws they pass and systems they create. It sounds so happy like childhood, and yet it reminisces on what it was like to not be forced to participate in these systems such as capitalism. It felt good to just be free and not be tied down by the world. The melody of this song sounds nostalgic and hype like the energy of a young person. Also shoutout Brandi Charlie, I adore her voice on this track and in general.

Who We Are: We have to get through things one way or another, but “getting through still has a cost.” God, this line hits because even when the “damage gets done,” we still have to hurt in order to heal. And it hurts the most when you didn’t realize what you lost until it’s gone. The other lyric that hits is “someone with your eyes might come in time to hold me like water or christ hold me like a knife” hold me even though I’ll slip through your fingers, or if you can’t do that, wield me as something that can cause damage. And there’s nothing else we can do about it. Why? Because that’s who we are. Also, Hozier’s vocals on this song are absolutely insane, those high notes are so angelic. I don’t think I knew his range went that high but I was super impressed.

Son of Nyx: It seems like I say every song is my favorite (because they’re all so freaking good), but this one has got to be my favorite on the album. Despite the lack of words, this song stuck out to me the most. I want to kiss the composer of this piece. First of all, I’m an absolute slut for orchestral/ cinematic songs. And this song is unlike any of his other songs. It carries this haunting melody that is almost angelic in a way but the minor key pulls you back down into this journey of hell that we’ve been going on. It incorporates the melodies from other songs on the album beautifully. I’ve only been able to pick out the melodies from who we are and abstract, so let me know if there’s any others I missed. But the moment where the orchestra swells makes me actually ascend into the next dimension. I swear I had an out of body experience when I heard it for the first time. It’s so terrifying in a beautiful way and words can’t properly convey how this song makes me feel. It doesn’t need to have words for me to understand it, and pieces like that are especially impactful to me.

All Things End: Wow what a way to follow that. It definitely gives a bit of whiplash. First of all, I love the music video for this because the cut from Heaven Hozier singing with his little surgeon church choir to him dead on a table makes me giggle every time, it’s so abrupt. Anyways, it’s interesting that this song goes under the circle of Heresy, because the connection isn’t immediately obvious. But, to me, it does make a lot of sense. To say all things end, including Heaven and hell, inherently denies the belief in Christian ideals. Which, to me, is empowering in a way. This song is simultaneously hopeless and hopeful at the same time. It says that joy will end eventually, but so will the pain. It’s a comfort and an anxiety all wrapped up into one song.

To Someone From a Warm Climate (Uiscefhuarithe): I’m gonna be honest, this one was harder for me to figure out. It’s incredibly simple in a way that is so effective. To me, this song sounds like being unable to provide for someone what they need. And that’s one of the most devistating feelings, one that the simple sad sound of the song encompasses very well. I know what it feels like to be unable to give what someone needs. It makes you feel so stuck and so useless, a feeling which I despise. And Hozier, as he always does, broke my heart with this one. But he was only gearing me up for what would come later with Unknown.

Butchered Tongue: One thing this song reminds me of is how much history we’ve lost. I think about this a lot, the texts we could’ve had, the wisdom we could’ve shared with one another, all lost to the greed of other human beings. I think of the Indigenous cultures that were viciously stripped away in the name of god, the languages lost, the abuse endured. I think of the stories of LGBTQ+ people that remain untold because it didn’t fit the ideal image of those in power. I think of the untold thoughts and lives brutally taken to early. We build incredibly complex and beautiful cultures but we still put in the hours to tear them down. It’s a really upsetting reality, to know that loss happens all around us and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. But we are also encouraged to be kind, so if you take anything from this post, from this song, please show kindness to all, especially those whose stories remain untold.

Anything But: This one is just so groovy I always gotta do a little dance when I hear it. What’s interesting is this song is framed like a love song. But to me, this sounds like running from something or someone. Like “I don’t wanna be anything but I would do anything just to run away” like yeah same. I just want to run away from everything and move into a cottage in the woods or something. It really captures that feeling of just wanting to get tf out of here.

Abstract (Psychopomp): Circling back to the religious trauma thing, I’ve always had a fear of death. Or rather, what comes after death. With the threat of hell always hanging above my head, I was scared to step out of that narrative they always trapped me in with. I don’t wanna suffer for eternity after my short existence. So I’ve always struggled with the idea of dying. But this song frames the journey to the afterlife as something beautiful, which is so comforting, I can barely put it into words. The idea that a spirit guide could be escorting you to the afterlife and they tell you to look back at Earth and “see how it shines” makes me feel a relief unlike any other. I know this song is based on an experience Hozier had where he watched an animal get hit by a car and watched someone comfort the animal in its last moment. But the way this song treats the concept of death is just so moving. It captures the fear and the pain but also the beauty of having someone to share those last moments with and having someone guide you beyond. The imagery in this song is such pure storytelling I feel like I am recounting the memory as if it’s my own.

Unknown / Nth: Not only is this song the most devastating one on the album, it’s maybe the most devastating song I’ve ever heard. I went through a breakup a while back and every single lyric described every single thing I was feeling about that lost relationship. It captured me and my pain so well I’m convinced Hozier crawled into my brain and wrote this. He described feelings I couldn’t even fit into words. The teaser that Hozier posted for this song on tik tok actually came out right in that stage where I could feel they were drifting away from me. This was a long distance relationship, so first the “you know the difference never made a difference to me” hit hard. Not only that, I always called them my angel, so “I thought you were like an angel to me” was just double the emotional damage. Then, we get to the bridge. This bridge is the absolute most gut wrenchingly genius string of words ever written. “Do you know I could break be with the weight of the goodness love I still carry for you? That Id walk so far just to take the injury of finally knowing you” Holy. Shit. I’m someone who, when I love someone, I love them with every ounce of myself. I would bend the Earth if they asked me to, I would give them my life and soul to sell to Satan. For a long time after that breakup, I still loved them and that love just fueled my grief. I knew this person like the back of my hand, I knew every inflection in their voice, every joke they hadn’t yet made, every feature of their face. And they knew me, fully and deeply in a way few people do. They listened, and they made me feel heard. And all of the sudden, it was all gone. And I did break beneath that weight, because I still loved and knew them, but didn’t get to know anymore. I didn’t get to know what they were doing now, how they were doing, I didn’t get to call them every single night anymore. But despite all of the pain, I would gladly do it over and over again. I can’t bring myself to regret any of it. “And there are some people love who are better unknown.” All I’ve ever wanted was to be understood. I struggle to make friends, and sometimes when I do, I’m only relevant when I’m beneficial. I’ve only ever wanted to be known by those around me. And they knew me. But when they left, I felt like I was unknown again. And I too resigned myself to that idea that maybe I am better unknown.

Transition: The transition between Unknown / Nth and First Light is much more subtle than the one between the De Selbys. But it’s there and it’s worth mentioning. When Unknown / Nth ends, we are left with this sinking and hopeless feeling that we will forever be stuck in that ice, flapping our wings. That hopelessness is drawn out in this ghost of a lingering note that pulls through the end of the song. Then the very first note of First Light is the same as the last note of Unknown / Nth.

First Light: The beginning of this song sounds exactly like rays of light spilling through the cracks. It sounds like the relief of light hitting your eyes after being trapped in a place of darkness for a long time. As the song goes on, it starts to sound more like an ascension. The vocals become very angelic and the whole song grows into this powerhouse of force that just gives off such a hope and determination that we haven’t felt for this whole album. To me, it’s very interesting that Hozier decides to end this album on such a hopeful note despite how devastating every other song was. I was convinced he was going to end the album on Unknown, and he very well could’ve done that. He could’ve left us in the deepest circle of hell. But he chose to end on this super optimistic note of finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I think it just gives us a look into his own optimism and his belief that our resilience as humans has and will pay off. We are constantly faced with adversity and won’t stop until we take our last breaths. But our desire to keep fighting is what makes us such a uniquely incredible species. And the payoff afterwards is a satisfaction that nothing else can quite compare to.

Hozier has such a way of turning the human experience into something otherworldly. He never ceases to amaze me with how his mind creates. I hope I get to tell him one day how much his art means to me and how deeply it’s affected me.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #unreal unearth #music #art #storytelling #mythology

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sebsxphia · 2 years

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Imagine giving rhett a bath after a day of hard labor at the ranch. He'd be so grabby at you while youre scrubbing the dirt off him so you make him a deal that he can do anything he wants to you if he lets you finish washing him up. (Bonus: he pretends to comply but hes actually jacking off very slowly under the water in the tub bc his view from where hes seated is phenomenal 👀)

lavender soap.

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ c/w: swearing, p in v, teasing, kissing, hair pulling, masturbation.

￫ a/n: gasp! dear anon, what a filthy no pun intended idea, i love it holy shit! i hope you enjoy this lil oneshot below! my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

“No way, no fuckin’ way. Jesus Christ, get upstairs, I’ll run you a bath.” You laughed pushing Rhett’s back up the stairs as he stumbled through the back door, dark oil seeping along his fingertips and up his forearms, any other piece of exposed flesh covered in dirt and grime.

You sat on the edge of the tub, wringing the already filthy wash cloth over his skin trying to scrub off the layers inch by inch. He adored it when you treated him like this. The feeling of your hands running over his body, up his shoulders, along his tired hands. He felt like putty, weeping at your touch and feeling the strain fall off his muscles inch by inch.

By the angle that you were sat on the edge of the tub, Rhett’s gaze couldn’t help but dip to your naked thighs, sat mere centiemerets away from his face, so close he could smell you. Running his fingertips up your thighs, he dipped his fingers inside your thigh, desperate to get a feel of your cunt.

“Rhett!” You giggled, delicately grabbing his fingers and guiding them back to the tub. He gazed up at you reading the smile on your face that he knew all too well. His eyes trailed down your neck and along your collar bone, noticing how your skin had light droplets of consdestion forming. He ran his tounge along his bottom lip, the swell of your breasts showing perfectly in the old tank top you had on, the only article of clothing you had on.

He reached his hand over to your thighs again, quickly followed by his mouth so you couldn’t bat away his hand quick enough. Latching his lips onto your soft flesh you lunged forward, your breath knocked out of your lungs. His fevered mouth biting and kissing its way up your bare thighs, inches away from your pussy. It made you clench, holding onto the edge of the bathtub for leverage. You could feel his hair tickle your skin and you mewled, head thrown backwards with your lips parted slightly, pathetic whimpers falling from your lips.

“Please, sweetheart. Just a taste.” Rhett mumbled across your skin, skimming to kiss the piece of flesh above your pussy that was on show from the rise of your tank top.

“Fuck, Rhett.” You moaned softly, barely above a whisper. You reached your hands into his hair and Rhett thought he had done it, he thought he had won you over. You sighed deeply and pulled on his hair making him groan. Pulling his head back up from your thighs he gazed up at you, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue.

“Let me just finish, then you can have me anyway you want. Promise.”

He puffed out his chest, a light smirk appearing on his lips. He wasn’t going to let you win that easy. He pressed one more soft kiss to your leg and then dropped his hands below the water. Due to the soap duds from the lavender soap that was running off his skin, it made it so you couldn’t clearly see the water.

Rhett ran his hand along his already semi-hard cock, throat constricting at the feeling. His eyes fluttered open and close relishing in the feeling of his touch while he was still able to run his eyes over the swell of your breasts, the curve of your thighs and the innocent look on your face. The combination of his touch and yours making him harder.

“Pretty innocent thing has no idea.” Rhett thought, trying to hold back the hitch of his breath when he swiped his thumb over his tip one too many times.

Wringing out the wash cloth one final time you looked at him, pleased with your efforts. Rhett didn’t waste a second. Reaching out of the water he held onto your hips and pulled you into the bath with him, a cry leaving your mouth in laughter. The water splashed over the side, feeling the waves ripple in the tub against your now soaked flesh.

Rhett still had ahold of your hips, dragging you up and sitting you down on his cock with such ease, it made a small chuckle escape his lips. “Oh darlin’, you’re fuckin’ soaked. Should’ve known better than to keep teasing me with tha’ pretty little cunt.”

taglist: @tallrock35

#💌you’ve got mail #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #lewis pullman #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x female reader #outer range

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punsmaster69 · 4 months

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8/DEC/20XX

a deep breath, and i feel a sense of nostalgia.

weird nostalgia. wouldn't go back, but i still think fondly of what happened.

the crispness of the cold air in snowdin takes me back- and i'm already reminiscing about random memories.

point to almost any rock formation along the walls of this place, and papyrus can probably tell you exactly how he's climbed it.

kicking the snow with my slippers a little bit, i remember how he used to warn me about wearing 'em outside.

—-

"YOU'LL SLIP AND FALL IN THOSE!!"

"naahh. i'll be fine."

"......"

"SEE? EVEN GRILLBY AGREES IT'S A BAD IDEA!!"

—-

for the most part, i always was fine; just had to be careful around the ice.

fortunately, it's not an issue using shortcuts; really only ever slipping a few times.

—-

"I SAID THIS WOULD HAPPEN."

"you've slipped even in your boots."

"THAT WAS A ONE-OFF ACCIDENT!"

"so was this."

sliding me across the ice until we were close enough to the snow to stand again, papyrus lifted me onto my feet once more.

"I TOLD YOU THIS WAS A TERRIBLE IDEA."

"you've gotta admit that over two weeks without slipping in these is pretty good."

"THERE'D HARDLY BE SLIPPING AT ALL IF YOU WOULD JUST PUT ON BETTER FOOTWEAR."

"these are way better."

"OBVIOUSLY NOT?! YOU 𝘑𝘜𝘚𝘛 SLIPPED!"

"but with snow boots, you have to tie 'em and whatnot."

"YOU DO THAT WITH MOST SHOES, SANS."

"not with slippers."

"YOU'RE GOING TO WEAR SLIPPERS ALL THE TIME.."

"JUST SO THAT YOU DON'T HAVE TO TIE THEM?"

"yep."

"that's the plan."

"YOUR ABILITY TO CONSISTENTLY FIND THE LAZIEST ROUTE IN EVERY ASPECT OF LIFE CONFOUNDS ME, BROTHER."

"IT'S ALMOST IMPRESSIVE."

"thanks. that's the one thing i do put effort into."

"...BEING LAZY."

"it's hard work, doing this little."

—-

ahh.

back when new bad habits of mine still surprised him.

...speakin' of bad habits.

grillby's looks like it hasn't been touched since the day we took all the important stuff up.

the most one'll find in there now is a fine layer of dust only disturbed by me brushing against some stuff.

not that the jukebox ever worked before, but i'm pretty sure it wouldn't turn on if you tried at this point.

——

already knew the librarby was empty; they gave away all the books before leaving to the surface.

took the sciencey ones, myself.

wanted the joke book too, but a certain old lady got to it first.

officially, it is hers.

unofficially, the book keeps bouncing between being in either of our possession for months at a time.

it's gained a few pages over the years, a lined-paper section at the end with a lotta skeleton and snail puns.

think paps split the cookbooks with someone, and hoarded the puzzle books.

(not like anyone else was readin' those, anyway.)

there were a couple on monster history i'm almost certain i've seen frisk with a few times, so they must've gotten those.

as charming as this little place was, the new library's got way more selection.

sorry, not library.

still librarby.

they kept the name. too iconic to change it.

even if it had been changed, we'd all continue to call it the librarby anyway.

——

many of the folks who had shops down here have taken up that same role on the surface.

the two bunnies running the inn and shop moved somewhere closer to new home city for better business.

——

in the snow, i did what i'd done a million times in the past.

i parked myself at the foot of the door which separated snowdin from the ruins.

—-

"knock, knock."

"Who's there?"

she'd say.

"cash."

"Cash who?"

"no thanks, i'm more of a walnut guy."

and i'd heard her burst out into laughter from the other side.

"Knock, knock."

"who's there?"

"Hatch."

"hatch who?"

"Oh, bless you."

then she'd laughed at her own joke hard enough to be contagious.

"knock, knock."

"Who's there?"

"canoe."

"Canoe who?"

"canoe come out here? i'm gettin' bonely."

she got a good kick out of that one, but her laughter had a tinge of sadness to it.

"...But, I am afraid not."

didn't expect any different of an answer.

always thinking it better not to ask quite why, i shrugged.

"one day, maybe."

"or not."

"you could just be mysterious door lady forever if you want."

"....."

"Knock, knock."

"who's there?"

"Peas."

"peas who?"

"Peas excuse my secretiveness. I know it can be a bit off-putting."

"everyone's got their secrets, 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘸 problem to me if you keep a few."

"Ha! I am glad that you are so 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭 with it."

"It is a joy to hear your 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘭 jokes every day!"

"nice to have someone with an a-𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳-able laugh to tell 'em to."

my slight regret about that pun immediately washed away upon hearing the laugh in question follow after it.

—-

....welp.

as fun as reminiscing has been, i've definitely left papyrus alone for far too long.

gotta spend at least a little time in the snow with him.

that's what we came back here for in the first place.

——

"WHEN DO YOU THINK IT'LL SNOW ON THE SURFACE?"

"it's supposed to get pretty cold soon, so probably not too long now."

"besides."

"if your desire for snow gets too awful bad, we'll just come down here again."

"WE SHOULD BRING FRIENDS WITH US NEXT TIME!"

"would be cool to re-visit the whole underground with everyone after all this time."

"OH!"

he sat straight up in the snow, scattering the powder around as he did so.

"YOU KNOW WHAT WE SHOULD DO?"

"what's that?"

"COME, COME! QUICKLY!!"

——

from that very same spot we all first looked in awe at our new future, me and him watched the sun set.

golden light poured over everything; sun beams warm in contrast to the town we've left once again.

"WHEN WE FIRST MOVED OUT FOR GOOD, I REALLY THOUGHT I'D MISS IT MORE."

"THOUGH, I DIDN'T EXACTLY HAVE THAT FEELING OF TRAPPED-NESS ON THE SAME LEVEL EVERYONE ELSE SEEMED TO."

"IT'S HARD TO GET BORED WHEN YOU'RE THE MOST ENTERTAINING SKELETON AROUND!"

"WITH THE COOLEST BROTHER AROUND."

"aww."

"...MAYBE I DID FEEL TRAPPED A LITTLE.. BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER ANYMORE."

"WE'RE ALL ON THE SURFACE TOGETHER, AND THAT 𝗜𝗦 WHAT MATTERS!"

when he turned to look at me, i couldn't tell whether his face was lit up more by the sun or the smile he had.

"I'M REALLY HAPPY HERE."

"me too."

#undertale #journal #sans #papyrus #skelebros #sans and papyrus #toriel #soriel #sans x toriel

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ofsappho · 6 months

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Treehouse Ask: I am always in awe how you capture Morpheus' complexity, particularly his superiority complex combined with a huge self-loathing (all too relatable...). Your preview for Chapter 31 was fire. He clearly won't surrender Reader to Johanna, but he also isn't afraid to attempt he isn't worthy of Reader or that being with him is no dream come true (pun). TBF, I also want him to point out to Jo that she's no Princess Charming either. Her exes had ample reason to call her out in canon.

One of the reasons why Morpheus is a favorite character of mine to write is his complexity. He’s never one thing, he’s never just a dark fuck prince or a soggy wet cat. He’s a god with many faces (to quote Homer). I personally base a lot of his characterization on other characters in literature with that intense complexity and nuance and layers , which I feel allows me to capture my vision of him better. We absolutely get him recognizing his faults (character development!) while still cleaving to his old ways this chapter. I never want my characters to feel or be in stasis, so this (like the rest of my chapters) is one step on a long journey of character evolution and I promise that in a few chapters, it will become evident where he’s headed.

I’m sooo excited to have Johanna here as a romantic rival/foil to Morpheus. I don’t think I could’ve either created a better character or picked a better character from the canon to occupy this position. She really represents the waking world in its entirety, good and bad.

#treehouse #the sandman #dream of the endless x you #dream of the endless x reader #sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #lord morpheus #morpheus #lord morpheus x you #lord morpheus x reader

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commanderbuffy · 11 months

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tanthamore week faves (so far)

there have been so many awesome fics so far for @tanthamoreweek ! I still have several bookmarked to read, but I wanted to share some of my favorites so far

Offspring of the Wind ( @overkill-max ) - Kit’s daughter is named Madigan? Like how perfect is that? Waiting on baited breath for the final chapter!

just lay entwined here undiscovered (@swashbucklery) - so perfectly shows the transition of friends to lovers

Uneven Odds ( @ksfreckles) - I love when Jade lets down her inhibitions and is so fun like in this one

the vale of boobs ( @spybrarian) - I love everything this lady writes, but something about this one just had me dying. And by something, I mean the puns.

Layer by Layer (ao3: TheLateNightStoryTeller) - “I’ve got you, Princess” need I say more??

Castles in the Air (@sadgirlindiemusic) - A pre-canon one where Kit causes a diplomatic incident. I love the world-building here and can’t wait for part 2 on Saturday!

The Bite ( @acre-of-wheat) - okay, maybe not technically part of the tanthamore week prompts, but it was published this week and I died when i first read it. Died again once it was up on AO3. Spread my ashes in the Wildwood please.

#tanthamore week #i haven't gotten to some of the incomplete ones yet #but i will!!

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toseeclearly · 5 months

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NAZGÛwÛ - an explainer of sorts

lol I did not expect the response I got for this but I'm glad so many people loved it. Here's a short breakdown of the pieces.

The base is made up of a thrifted sweater that I shredded using nail scissors. It's hard to tell in the full costume image but I went to town on it to give it the feel that it was falling apart. The skirt is a tulle miniskirt that I also shredded the hems of and then bedazzled with silk flowers, gems, and flat-backed pearls. The gloves are hot pink satin opera gloves. I didn't dye anything for this because I just couldn't be bothered, so I leaned into the "look buddy, it's going to be 14 shades of pink and you're going to like it." Honestly, I think it looks better this way, but maybe that's just me.

In process photo above. I had started on the shredding/bedazzling. The gloves are also done with a mixture of gems, pearls, and tiny clear pink jewels that I roughly glued onto the back of the hands and knuckles to give texture.

Also that skirt was so damn short. I ended up finding a pair of hot pink spandex shorts at the thrift shop, so I wore those, lest I be known as the snatch king of angmar or whatever. Wait, I got a slightly worse pun: Ûnderwearlari. God that sucks.

The helmet was made from a pattern found by my husband, he did the initial build (while I was doing the clothes) out of eska board. Normally we use this stuff to make book covers, but it works real well for this. The spikes are just bristol board. I also ended up adding fake nails to the gloves. I'm a cheap fuck so I bought these dark green ones and the cheapest pink nail polish I could find and then painted them. Honestly, I think it works (plus that nearly unnoticeable line of green on the edge makes them pop a tiny bit more).

I did a few layers of gesso on the mask and painted the whole thing hot pink, then did some texturing. Then I added on paper and silk flowers for the flower band and some random scattered gems instead of rivets.

The fabric inside is loosely glued in, god forbid I ever wear this costume somewhere in low light, I'd probably just trip and die (especially in the shoes, which put me at just about 6 feet tall).

The true test was the flail. I was originally going to do the sword, but thought the flail would be more fun (yes, I know he technically had a mace in the books do not @ me). Turns out it's hard to find even a fake flail on short notice, so I made this: the handle is 1/2 of a dollar store scythe handle, sanded and painted pink, then bedazzled. The flower ball is actually a piece of a halloween decoration - a skull attached to some chains that we broke off from the longer piece. They were also painted pink and then covered in flowers and gems. I also wove glitter pipe cleaners into the chain. It's attached via a clay holder that I molded onto the end. I sealed a lot of it with hot glue for texture and stability, and then did a coat of the same pink nail polish from the fake nails on there to give it sheen and a thin pink wash. It's very light, but I do love it.

As for the rest, the legs are a pair of hot pink fishnets, pink thigh highs, and a pair of hot pink stacked heels that I actually bought for my friend's wedding way back (hi @breeyn!). They're great shoes and have served me well. I also had on a pink mesh hooded cape that was trimmed with lace that I found in a bin at a lingerie store. I mostly just want to know who was wearing that for sexy things, to be honest.

Anyway, glad you all liked the costume. If I go to another convention anytime soon, I'll be busting it out, hahaha.

#lord of the rings #lotr shitpost #lotr #nazguwu #cosplay #so much pink #halloween

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telomeke · 1 year

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MOONLIGHT CHICKEN – FUN WITH THE NAMES

Not meaning to take away from all the big emotions in Moonlight Chicken, but they were really having fun with the names weren't they? 😊

JimBeam caused the biggest hangover for our dear protagonist uncle. And their furkid came about because, well, Jim + Beam = Jimbo.

Also, going back in time, can you imagine little siblings Jim and Jam running around their family farm? How cute are those names for a pair of little rascals! 😂

When I first started writing this post, it was because I thought the wordplay in the examples above was a bit of fun. But remembering how Pat and Pran's names in Bad Buddy were also able to represent deeper layers of meaning (write-up linked here) I took a closer look at some of the other names in Moonlight Chicken.

Here's what I've found – some of it's fun, some of it's heavier, and some are probably just the product of my fevered, moonlight-induced delirium, so be warned! 😉

First up is this guy, Wen's good friend Gong–

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.5 [3I4] 4.12

The Thai spelling of Gong's name (ก้อง) can be seen on Wen's mobile at Ep.5 [1I4] 16.16, and it translates to resonant. And the idea of a resounding gong (the percussion instrument, that in East and Southeast Asia was also used to signal announcements as well as in music) does fit rather well with Gong's depiction in the show. He's shown to us as kind of an unfiltered loudmouth, and this is established early on when his indiscreet nail-and-bail advice to Wen in the gym locker room was broadcast to everyone else there. 😂

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.1 [3I4] 7.12

This pun also works across many languages, where the word gong (the instrument) exists in homologous versions – in English, Malay/Indonesian, French, Spanish, Italian, Dutch, Japanese, Portuguese, German, Polish… but not in Chinese and only partially in Thai, ironically, where the word ฆ้อง (for the instrument) is pronounced more like khong. 🤷‍♂️ (Still similar though.)

There's also another possible pun that plays on the show's overlap with Chinese culture (remembering that Moonlight Chicken is heavily Thai-Chinese) – the Chinese dialect honorific Ah Gong (阿公/亞公) that many grandkids use to address their Chinese grandpa. (In Bad Buddy, you can hear Pat's mother use this term when talking to him about his grandfather, at Ep.10 [4/4] 11.14.) In Thai, this Chinese loanword is spelt differently from Gong's name (ก๋ง instead of ก้อง) and the tone is also different. However, the pronunciation of Gong's name is similar enough to Teochew (the predominant Chinese dialect group in Thailand) that I think the pun does work too.

Based on the above, in my head at least Gong the character is very much a caricature of a worldly-wise gramps, dispensing advice to the less-experienced Wen. He's even got the near-white hair to suit, and in the scene at Ep.5 [3I4] 3.36 he's also dressed in yellow, which in Thailand is often associated with a higher, wiser authority – a reference to the saffron robes of monks, and also to the current king and his father.

OK I'll shut up about Gong puns now – just as Moonlight Chicken's art direction told Gong the character to do later, via his wardrobe: 🤣

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.6 [4/4] 6.33

Now Li Ming's name is packed with many layers of meaning, and this makes him symbolic of one of the show's major themes (that of renewal and a fresh start in the future).

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.6 [1I4] 14.09

I've written about Li Ming's name in previous posts so I won't go into it again, but the posts with more info are linked here and here. (I'll probably write more about Li Ming's name in relation to the show as a whole later.)

I think of Heart's character as a metaphor for LGBTQ+ love – which may seem a little unusual, given that gay romances are at the core of the whole series.

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.5 [4/4] 9.46 – it's so powerful that Heart's parents aren't even in the frame, because it highlights the communication gulf that separates them; it's like he's talking to a void

However, I don't think LGBTQ+ love is really the central theme of Moonlight Chicken (and will post about this separately). Rather, the romances are there to help move the ship of themes along, without being the central message. But as in any Aof-driven show there will always be some sort of political statement in support of LGBTQ+ rights, and I think Heart was so named for this reason.

Heart is fully capable of love, a complete human being in that respect. Yet his parents saw him as deficient because of his deafness, withdrew themselves from him, and left him feeling quite unloved, lonely and sequestered – not so much out of shame perhaps, but more out of a misplaced desire to protect him I think (eyes on Bad Buddy's Dissaya here! 😡).

But Heart wasn't deficient as a human being, or any less than the people his parents were comparing him to – they isolated him simply because the language that most clearly communicated his innermost self was different from that of the majority, and they did not understand enough to cope with it. He wasn't voiceless – he simply spoke differently, using his hands (thus all the discourse around not using the word mute at Ep.5 [4/4] 8.04).

All Heart needed was understanding in order for his full, authentic self to flourish (which he got first from Li Ming, and is what the Jintanas finally gave to him when they took up sign language).

Do we need a stronger parallel for the experience of young queer people, whose hearts love differently from the cishet majority's, growing up in families that cannot or will not understand them? 💖

Saleng's name (ซาเล้ง) refers to three-wheeler vehicles (and saleng is an abbreviation of the full form รถเข็นซาเล้งสามล้อ). These are usually the pedal-powered tricycles used by rag-and-bone men (who load recyclable/saleable trash into the barrow sitting on two wheels at the front of their vehicle) or (sometimes) motorcycles that are equipped with sidecars (see this link here for some images). In an example of metonymy, the scrap-pickers who ride the salengs are also known as salengs themselves.

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.5 [4/4] 1.22

And this name is especially suited to Saleng the cheeky, rough-and-ready rascal in Moonlight Chicken – just like the man himself, the vehicle saleng is zippy, unbound by rules of the road and gainfully shoulders its burden, while scrap-picker salengs are used to constant hustle and hard work in their lives, ready to capitalize on any opportunity that they might happen to find.

One of the more important names in the series is the name of the diner, because it's the same as that of the show – พระจันทร์มันไก่ (visible on the lantern at the front), and it's pronounced something like phra jan man gai.

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.1 [1I4] 6.02

Phra jan means moon, where the phra part is a prefix used for revered persons, places or objects and the jan part is a word derived from Sanskrit that also means moon (and is a cognate with the Chandra/Chandran of many Indian/Sri Lankan names – e.g., சந்திரன் in Tamil – as well as candra in Balinese, Javanese and Indonesian, and cendera in Malay).

The man gai part is the same as that in khao man gai (ข้าวมันไก่), the Thai name for chicken rice. The literal translation for the name of this dish is chicken-fat rice, where man means oil/fat/grease, gai means chicken and khao means rice (adjectives or descriptors follow the noun in Thai). This name refers to the fact that the rice is given its deep savory flavor by sautéing it in chicken-fat (the famously flavorful schmaltz, for those familiar with Jewish-American cooking – see @waitmyturtles's encyclopedic post on khao man gai linked here if you'd like to delve into more culinary detail 👍).

You might think the most obvious translation of the diner's name would be the decidedly unglamorous Chicken-Fat Moon, but I don't think that's the only way it comes across in Thai. It was probably worded that way because it plays on the khao man gai served within, but the words do have other meanings too. The word man (มัน) in the diner's name can also mean joyful, enjoyable, flashing, shining, sparkling, glowing, bright, audacious or interesting. The words shining, glowing and bright are of course often associated with the moon, and in this light (pun unintended 😂) the translation Moonlight Chicken maybe isn't that far off (since phra jan man can also mean Shining/Glowing/Bright Moon).

But remembering that in the Thai language descriptors follow nouns, another possible reading of พระจันทร์มันไก่/phra jan man gai (at least to my non-Thai ears) is Glowing (or Joyful/Enjoyable/etc.) Moon of the Chicken (just as khao man gai is literally rice of the chicken-fat).

And if it's Glowing Moon of the Chicken, I think (bear with me on this) that the Chicken being referred to here is actually Jim (don't laugh). He's the main protagonist and the center of all the action in the series, so it wouldn't be surprising for him to be referenced in the title. (And I'm thinking of chicken in the sense of the living bird, not the food on a plate.)

Remembering that the full moon in Chinese tradition represents completeness in life, especially completeness of the family (referenced at the Mid-Autumn Festival of Ep.1, and written up here), we also see that Jim is haunted throughout the series by a home life that is incomplete (ever since he lost Beam), partly because he is still hanging on to the past. We are also told in the theme song that the moon represents the heart (see this write-up linked here) and I think Moonlight Chicken is very much about Jim's search to fill the hole in his, and render it complete again (despite his instincts to do the contrary).

So if Jim is the avian protagonist in the title (remembering that chicken is also a synonym for timorousness, even as we see Jim unwilling to take that bold step to remedying the emptiness in his life), he's very much domesticated fowl (and we're also shown how fastidiously he motherhens his brood – not just Li Ming and Saleng, but also the late-night dining crowd who come to him to be fed). Noting too that Jim was also from a distant rural farm also echoes this idea that he's very much a gai baan (ไก่บ้าน or domesticated fowl), not so much a gai aawn (ไก่อ่อน, literally tender chicken, slang for naïve greenhorn)…

Anyway Jim is not the only gai in the village (this isn't Llanddewi Brefi, Daffyd 😂). Of course, the other gai is Gaipa (ไก่ป่า).

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.3 [3I4] 2.14

Gaipa's name is quite unusual (even Director Aof's good friend and sometime GMMTV director Jojo Tichakorn has tweeted about how wild it was, if I remember correctly). Because of this, I think it's very much a deliberate choice. The meaning of Gaipa's name also reinforces the idea of Jim the moonlight chicken because it brings up a very interesting contrast.

The word gaipa (ไก่ป่า) actually refers to this handsome beast:

(above) Red junglefowl (Gallus gallus) – photo by Francesco Veronesi on the Wikipedia article linked here, and image license linked here

It's not quite correct to call this bird a chicken (which is domesticated fowl) – this picture is of Gallus gallus or the red junglefowl, the wild ancestor of all domesticated chickens, that still lives in forests throughout Southeast Asia (including Thailand) and parts of South Asia. Bold, resourceful and adaptable, it's also commonly seen in urban areas that neighbor its natural habitat (while still remaining very much an untamed bird).

In Gaipa's name, the gai part (ไก่, sometimes rendered phonetically as kai) does mean chicken in Thai, but the pa part (ป่า) means forest or wild. So Gaipa's name translates to something like forest fowl or wild chicken, that is the wild counterpart to domesticated chickens.

I suspect Gaipa's character may have been originally written as more flamboyant, and thus the image of the loud, colorfully bold (and sometimes squawky) red junglefowl would have been a better fit. Red junglefowl will also freely pursue and interbreed with domestic chickens (they are basically the same species, like wolves are to dogs; it's just that domestic chickens also have some genetic input from the closely-related grey, green and Sri Lankan junglefowl, and are more placid than their wild versions). With this in mind, Gaipa's romantic interest in Jim also makes sense (since Jim is the domesticated version of the wild gai).

Part of me wishes they had gone with a campier portrayal for Gaipa though – it might have been a chance to make up for the negative depiction of the screamy, predatory Green in 2gether. But at the same time it would have been a really delicate balance to get right (and flubbing it would ironically have become replication rather than reparation). So maybe Director Aof just didn't want to take the risk and opted for Khaotung's sweeter, more restrained rendering instead. 🤷‍♂️ I'm still a fan of what they've done nonetheless. 👍

OK, so on to Wen's name, and his is thought-provoking for the different questions and themes it evokes. The analysis of his name is so long that I've moved it away into its own post (linked here).

(top) Moonlight Chicken Ep.5 [4/4] 14.21; (bottom) Moonlight Chicken Ep.5 [1I4] 16.20

Keeping it simpler, Wen's name can be linked (via the wn that we see on his phone at Ep.5 [1I4] 16.20) to a political era in Thailand where opposing camps were known as the Red Shirts and the Yellow Shirts. The Red Shirts were identified with the country's lifeblood (its rural poor), and passionately championed the cause of the impoverished farmer. The Yellow Shirts were drawn from the urban elite (including intellectuals and royalists) and because of their origins among the intelligentsia can be seen as representing the message that passion should always be tempered with reason.

Not taking sides here, but very broadly I think that, based on the above, the colors yellow and red (including their various shaded incarnations like mustard/saffron for yellow and rust-brown for red) represent the different pulls of head versus heart, and we are shown both Jim and Wen struggling with knowing the right thing to do, and staying too long in the wrong situation because of emotional attachment (e.g., Jim with the diner, and Wen in his messy relationship with Alan). And we see Jim and Wen wearing more of each color at different stages of their journey, before they come to their final decisions allowing wisdom to prevail over their emotions. 💖 There's more detail in the write-up linked here if you want to read more (but it's a long post and a bit of a trudge to read, I must say 🤷‍♂️).

(top) Moonlight Chicken Ep.5 [1I4] 11.35; (bottom) Moonlight Chicken Ep.8 [3I4] 7.33

Anyway, I don't have any analysis for other names like Jim's and Alan's, so I'll end this write-up here. Maybe will expand more on these and other names after I've rewatched a few times! 💖

#moonlight chicken #moonlight chicken names #wen wongsakorn #jim jaruek #moonlight chicken saleng #jimwen #moonlight chicken heart #moonlight chicken li ming #gaipa #moonlight chicken gong

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