#those books were my childhood growing up and it's very interesting to hear people point out things that i definitely noticed too

[winterskyfirefly]

.

#listening to the wilder podcast and have been crying all day over little house on the prairie related things #went on tvtropes and was reminded of the fact that i was so obsessed i even read the rose/caroline/charlotte/martha years books #those books were my childhood growing up and it's very interesting to hear people point out things that i definitely noticed too #even if i wasn't old or educated enough to go critical i remember being confused by some stuff #its VERY interesting to hear about rose's libertarian politics coming into play #they mention the little indian girl that laura sees with her hair as black as a raven and black eyes and laura tells pa to get her that bab #and they bring up how we never are treated to what that little child saw comparatively and i wonder if that was a true story #and if that was true what that specific child grew up and if they remembered the event and probably not and what became of them #idk im just so fucking emotional and i busted open a BIG mikes harder too which didnt help #real emotional and crying over everything today folks actually like i woke up and cried because i left the turtle's lights on overnight oop

[autisticempathydaemon]

What song are you fixated on at the moment? What lyric or verse, and why?

High Enough by K Flay, because it's quite wordy and kinda fast, so when I don't stumble over words or get them wrong, it feels so good. Also, I just really enjoy listening to it.

What is your Enneagram type?

I just did the test because I had no idea. Apparently I'm a 5.

Do you love gargantuan Youtube video essays, and if so, which is your favorite and why?

Yes and no. I love hearing people talking about things they're passionate about, but I have ADHD so it needs to hold my interest for an extended period of time, which isn't always easy. I quite like Jenny Nicholson's, except for the Star Wars ones.

Tell me about your childhood imaginary friend.

I don't actually remember anything about them, only my mum telling me as an adult that they were twins, one boy and one girl.

What is your go-to way to fall asleep?

Curled up, listening to Adam being his sadistic, chaos gremlin self.

If you had to change your name, what would it be, and why? (In tandem, if you have changed your name, why did you pick that one?)

Growing up, I read a book with a character named Starr and kind of wanted to change my name to that. These days, I can't say I love my name, but can't think of anything else I'd change it to.

What is your favorite of Redacted’s audios, and why?

Maybe Regulus's, especially the newest one (the thought of having somebody in my head and never having any space to myself kinda terrifies me, but I also like the idea, because hell yes, he could absolutely kick those intrusive thoughts to the curb. Also, the parts where he starts revealing his true feelings about stuff via the random "demonic" voice just does something to me).

Although the Adam storyline, especially Sadistic Vampire Kidnaps You (both for the sleep aid factor, and just general I really enjoy listening to it) will probably always be my absolute favourite.

What Redacted boy holds no appeal to you, and why? Like, not the one you hate but the one who you don’t get the hype for. (I won’t judge, I promise.)

Sam. I think he's got so much love from Redacted fans that I'm almost burnt out from it. Also Milo, David and Vincent a little bit, for the same reason. I still listen to and enjoy their audios, but they'll never be my first choice to listen to, and it's very unlikely I'd relisten to them.

Tell me about that one book/movie/tv show you know all the words to.

Idk, I don't rewatch or reread things enough to learn the words to them. Maybe Buffy, because I was hardcore obsessed with it when I was younger, but nowhere near knowing all the words level.

Which Redacted boy are you platonically attracted to? Like- forget dating, which dude do you want to be your best friend?

My first thought was Hux, although I would totally date him, if we were in a universe where he was, y'know, real, and not dating Damian.

Maybe I should've said Asher. As much as I adore him, I don't really think about him in a romantic context.

Do you have a go-to thing you ramble about when you’re tired, and if so, what is it? (For example, my boyfriend knows I’m ready to sleep when I start talking about space.)

Since I'm pretty much always alone, I have nobody to connect the dots on that. Maybe I should ask my cat, hahaha.

Tell me your go-to gas station and drink combo.

I don't drive, and don't live within walking distance from one. If I did, it'd probably be something sweet, and a drink, preferably something frozen and/or bright blue

Tell me about your favorite playlist at the moment.

My going to work musical playlist that I've compiled is all killer, no filler if that's what you meant.

What’s your guilty pleasure media, and why?

Boyfriend asmr, and I mean traditional asmr, rather than the audio roleplays. I've been very single for a long time, to the point I don't even know if I could actually date, if (by some miracle) some weirdo did find me attractive.

And whatever else you think tells me about who you are!

I'm literally crying while typing this, and can't think of anything else. Sorry for the trauma dump, if I didn't want to know your answer so badly, I'd just delete and forget about it. 💙

This one took me a second- I was really staring down the Redactedness brackets- but when I saw it, it dawned on me so clearly and so resplendently. Ollie would be so wonderfully perfect for you.

Little things first- I think y’all would have a good time together, because it seems like y’all would like each other and the same things. Like, I can absolutely see Ollie having had a Buffy phase at some point. (He had a crush on either Sarah Michelle Gellar, David Borneanaz, or both. Probably both.) He’d love the same video essays you do and would be more than okay with pausing it or speeding it up if the attention span isn’t spanning.

Big things second- I think Ollie would be so good for you? Your being a Five and what you said about Regulus makes me think the sweet, unempowered type is just what you need. No magic, no tragic backstory, no possibility of having your mind read or wiped- just a darling man who loves you, your cats, and Star Trek.

Song:

You know I wanna be your light/ In darkness, how you find me just in time/ To tell me what I needed to hear/ So if you don't know what you need/ You can leave it all to me/ I don't want you worried 'bout a thing/ I know you'd do the same for me

I love Ollie and the domestic, little ways he shows his love and support- he’s just a wholesome dude, and he’s a sleeper favorite of mine for that reason. This song fits in my head because it reminds me of his sweetness and how far he’s come and matured and how dependable and loving he’d be as a boyfriend and life partner for you.

Runner-Ups:

Aaron was a pretty close runner-up, because I loved the idea of pairing you with someone unempowered and stable. (Ollie, I liked more because of his energy and lighthearted nature; also Aaron also strikes me as a Five, and I don’t typically do same Type pairs.) Huxley, I also love because of his steady, sweet but jovial nature, but I really got stuck on someone unempowered for you by this point.

Note: I’m so sorry I made you cry and you like literally didn’t trauma dump at all you are so fine and good honey

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

#redactedasmr #redactedverse #redacted asmr #redactedaudio #redacted audio #busybee matches #redacted

[zombiepedia]

I’m so curious and I hope you don’t mind me asking but what was your first introduction to zombies? I know next to nothing about them bc they used to freak me out and I avoided anything about them, but finding your blog has made me super interested!! To the point where I was going to sign up for a uni course on them but found out the professor for it was quite shit so I didn’t :,) but yeah when did you first see/hear/learn about them? I’m so curious

:D i don't mind you asking at all i love talking about this!!!

well when i was young zombies also really frightened me (i still get zombie stress nightmares sometimes) but i've been a horror fan since i was a kid, so that never stopped me from getting really into zombie media anyway. there were several contributing factors i'd say? my first memory of REALLY loving something with zombies in it was with my childhood best friend. she had this really shitty Xbox 360 and we used to play COD zombies together for hours and hours. people always think i'm crazy when i say this (because COD zombies sucks) but it's a huge reason why i started loving zombies

in my formative years a lot of huge zombie centric franchises were at their peak as well (TWD and TLOU especially. and PVZ was HUGE) so i was of course very invested in those franchises growing up, and i had a lot of friends who were super into them too, especially TWD :D one of my best childhood memories is going to a huge TWD convention with my best friend and i got to meet Clementine's voice actor!!!

my mom also really loves zombies, and i don't share a lot of interests with her, but we always loved them together and would watch stuff together. my mom bought me a lot of zombie books to read and always encouraged that interest of mine. especially in middle school i was blowing through books she'd buy me like World War Z (novel, not movie), The Enemy series, In The After, and the TWD novels were just a few that i was consumed by when i read them. and then i started writing my OWN zombie stories in middle school, like self insert stuff with my friends, etc

and when i got older i started watching a lot more zombie movies (before i had been mostly invested in books, games, and shows because i find movies hard to sit through) and zombie movies are fascinating they have so much history!!! there are so many of them to enjoy with so many different takes on the genre!!! zombie centric music is really fun too, that's also something i got into when i was older. i love music about zombies (and horror music in general)

to quit rambling on and to answer your question super directly i think i ended up loving zombies because the people i love do too, albeit not as much as me lol, and the time period i grew up in (after the release of 28 Days Later and the revival of zombies in the early 2000s) was an absolute goldmine for really good zombie content

#THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK #THIS WAS SO SO FUN TO TALK ABT!!! #it makes me happy that my blog made you more interested in zombies too this made my day <3 #sorry for going off on a tangent 😭❤️ #thes.txt #braineaters

[xjxaxi]

COLLEEN HOOVER SUPREMACY

I just recently discover Colleen while browsing Pinterest but before that I’ve been seeing It Ends with Us from different social media platform. I just saved it just in case i forgot the title and just in time, my d-day i went to Fullybooked to check what’s new. Btw im not gonna call myself a book wormer. Oh its that even a word? Lol. But i read a lot of books but i bought a lot of books more than i read books. So while browsing in the bookstore i finally saw IEWU and without hesitation i bought it. I just told myself that this is one of my bday gift to myself. It took 3 days or a week to start reading it. But after few pages and story became interesting i finished it today. My friend told me that this book was a bit hype only and its not worth to read. But me, i feel Colleen, i feel Lily and i feel Ryle. Every scenarios, every situations where Lily had to protect his mom to his abusive dad there’s me crying behind the book. Thinking about how i saw same situation since i was a grade school up until college. It was a miserable life, it was hard. Coz all you have to do is to tell them to stop. That you just grew up waiting for them to start fighting then you start screaming and stop them again and again. Nothing to spoil here but its just that this book is very timely. That i had to write in here, my safe space, my diary and my outlet. Very timely to the point i was asking myself why people can’t easily forgive other people. Been there and still there. The trauma i had when i was a kid - it’s hard as f*ck now that im thinking about it. I thought i forgave everyone but this time its different. Especially that im a bit old and matured now. But Lily’s story make me realize that the effect of what happened to you when you were a child is what have you become in the future. The fearfulness of getting touch by a person you don’t know. The reason why you got scar in your head because your dad and mom was fighting then when he throw the stainless glass to your mom it exactly fled to your forehead. The exact word told by your boss that having physical pain can possible be related to your childhood, kind of trauma. And stories related to domestic abuse triggers you even more. IT SVCKS. That i overcome everything while growing up. I don’t wanna add those here but it hurts me like hell whenever i hear my mom cry and what’s even worse is to feel this pain again after my mom leave us. I already forgave my dad. I gave him a chance to become a better dad to us. I guess that’s the main reason why my mom left as last year because he wants my dad to become a good father as he never did before. I just hope that one day i can also forget all those days that whenever i cant control the chaos in our house i smashed my head in the wall, hurt myself by blades and crying every night. I hope mama knows how i protect her before i hope at that point she knows that i love her and i hate her seeing her with those bruises. I love you mom thank you for being a good mom to us and for helping us to forgive papa. I know that you love him so much to the point that you have to endure all the pain for 27yrs. We love you. Again, I WANT TO BE YOU WHEN I GROW UP. BRAVE AND BOLD. Lovelots, jai

#colleenhoover

[goblinshork]

Ok so what abaut Bodyguard and Agony whith a a naga prince that just hates the royal life and dreams of just having a simple life living in a cottage and selling homemade jewelry, so Reader his childhood best friend, personal bodyguard and person who he feel in love whith decides to make his dream come true (bonus if the prince has a sister so the kingdown whont stay whiout a ruler and she helps Reader whith the plan, bonus+ if the prince is kinda huge and scary to other people but he is just a chill dude that likes to make rings and necklaces)

Short scenario please! (Also sorry if its too long, feel free to just ignore this if you whant)

Not too long at all and I think it's an extremely charming idea! Thank you for sharing; big gruff, undercover sweeties are one of the most Choice(tm) archetypes.

This also got super long, but the vibes were singing to me.

Features: Slight angst, happy ending, kissing

Bodyguard + Agony (Monster Ask Meme)

Hands, Touching Hands (m!Naga x gn!Reader) [3.7k]

“Don’t lie, how many names do you remember?”

Alok yawned, curved fangs peaking out from almost-lips.

“None, thankfully,” he said, scratching at his curls, cut short enough that they barely formed.

“Impressive.”

“Oh—no, you won’t distract me. You agree with me don’t you?”

The book Alok had toyed the entire briefing slammed shut, the many bracelets at his wrist clinking for emphasis when you did not answer.

Watching him unfurl his tense length of tail, broad shoulders rising far above you as he 'stood', there was little to say but, "It’s not my place."

"Then it’s not mine, either."

He slunk toward the door and you picked up the book--the monstrous thing--with your arms rather than your hands before following him.

"Just give it time," you said in a reassurance that was too shallow to drown his mood.

Every move forward looked painful as he slithered forward like a child first learning to move against stone rather than soft grass. Unlike when he was a child, he was stilted by frustration rather than inexperience.

The conversation was left dropped, burning like the weight of the tome in your arms. If you were alone, you'd tell him to carry it. But servants, nobles, and royals passed frequently, all low bows and murmurs, moving on a touch quicker than polite.

When you first arrived to the kingdom, a slave dressed sweetly and presented as a gift, you'd marveled at how anyone could find the royal family intimidating when removed from their wealth and status.

Baby yellow skin and soft pink dapples painted everyone of them. Alok, himself, was more pink than yellow, and it reminded you of those delicate, painted dolls you'd press your face against glass to get a closer look at before being shooed away by the shop-keep.

You supposed little had changed since then, except now you were simply stared at, expected to keep your fingers off the pretty pink glass always, always in front of you.

The hallway Alok stopped moving forward in was empty, private; his. Without a word, you tossed the horrible book toward his crossed arms and swept the windows, floors, and ceiling for anything strange. His fumbling for the book, fingers audibly skimming against pages, made you smile.

"It's clear," you nodded. "Workshop, right?"

Alok deflated a bit, too caught between the mention of his workshop and pretending to have perfectly caught the book to keep his anger stoked.

"You're asking now," he said flat, looking from the book to you.

Putting up your hands in mock defeat, you turned, alert enough.

@

"I'm not angry at you.” The slits that served for his pupils, deep red and small in their focus on the gem he was cutting, turned to you when you said nothing in response.

“Sorry, I--” was dazzled by your eyes? Was enamored by how passionate you are for perfecting that sparkling little gem? “I know.”

“I just wanted to say it.”

You stretched from your place beside the door, perched on one of the few chairs at your disposal in the entire castle, “Thank you.”

“Don’t be patronizing,” Alok grumbled, pausing in his work. “I know...I know very well you must be tired of this, even if you won’t say it.”

The window was suddenly so interesting, your throat burning as you swallowed down the feeling kindling there.

“This is my home,” you said after hearing the scales of his tail shift closer. “There’s nothing to be tired of.”

Slowly, his hand rose to hover over yours, where it lay on your lap, “But you should be. I’d give you anything you needed. They couldn’t stop me.”

Everything you wanted to say was tucked in the patch of air that separated his touch from yours.

Any person, bought and raised to be singularly loyal would hesitate at the offer of freedom, wouldn’t they?

They’d want to grab his hand, wouldn’t they?

You could only guess as a love for a prince was not something to be said aloud unless you were allowed.

And you, a slave turned body guard, were not.

Standing, you scattered the almost-moment with a shake of your head, “I don’t care about freedom half as much as you think I do.”

His hand fell limp to his side, the slits that served as his nose flaring wide, as you continued.

“I’m your bodyguard and I’ll be your children’s bodyguard and I’ll be the same to whoever you choose from that book,” you finished, thoroughly shooing yourself away, wanting so much to run out the door.

Alok said your name quietly, but you remained silent.

And everything was still until it wasn’t.

In one smooth motion propelled by his sheer size, Alok stretched to the book and hurled it out the open window.

“No, you won’t. I’ll be their prince,” he said low, body suddenly too large for the room. “But I won’t be their king.”

You did run, then.

@

Perhaps the only place off-limits for a would-be king allergic to potential suitors was his sister’s drawing room.

Adur payed you no attention as she demanded entertainment from the brightly colored darlings and dark patterned beauties of the upper echelon.

“Did you know, I simply adore the pattern of your bangles lately,” she cooed, pointing to a decorated tail. “So perfectly in style.”

She continued on, picking this and that to sigh over, as you stood against the corner that provided the best view of the room, next to the door. 

You recognized each piece she fawned over as being similar to something Alok had on display or nearly-done in his workshop. Ah, to know a magician’s tricks.

Melting into a squat, you let their voices wash over you. No heart could hurt for long listening to women enjoy court gossip as much as this bunch did...from a distance.

When you, Alok, and Adur were younger, the rules seemed less stone and more like blades of grass, flexible and beneath you. Adur set you in front of her always revolving group of friends and tried to fit tail bangles around your thighs and waist. Alok insisted you sit side-by-side while studying geography, arithmetic, and etiquette. You lay between them on sunny afternoons, napping, legs touching tails.

But everything golden goes grey eventually.

“Well, do tell me. Did he throw it in the fire?”

You turned from the window, swapping red, setting sun for sharp, red eyes, “Out of the window.”

The room was empty but for you and her now. Adur pacing around, tail making quick work of circling the room as she read from her collection of letters.

“Still the amount of melodrama I expected so,” she shrugged, raising shoulders toward her pleased mouth as a silent finish to her sentence. “I, on the other hand, did pick.”

You rose, legs tingling from the sudden change. “Who?”

“Prince Talsa,” she said after cutting open a letter with her claw, “I’ve already decided on a short engagement and a respectable wedding down south. Perhaps closer to his kingdom than ours.”

“Talsa? Not rare one who everyone’s after?”

Adur looked at you as though you should know better before deigning to explain, “Prince Talsa is rather plain looking for a naga, yes, but that’s just the point.”

“Go on,” you said, wanting so much to be distracted.

“Think about it,” Adur scoffed. “Rare, beautiful babies create wonder amongst people, but children who look as though they could be born anywhere....don’t you see the appeal?”

She leaned against the window, long black hair obscuring her pink and yellow face, “They would be royalty that even the most common of folk could feel familiar to--feel endeared to. Even someone as devoid of charm or pretense as Alok could gain some favor. From their birth, I’ll have them attend every little festival and celebration. Their bond with the people will be unshakable.”

“You’ll make the best queen,” you said, unthinking to the implication.

“Has something happened to Alok?”

“No, you ju--”

Adur turned to you, delicate face empty, “It doesn’t matter what we know. He’s the eldest and alive and destroying a book won’t change that.”

Your hands shook as you laced them together, risking at least your life, by asking:

“What if we could change it?”

@

Everything in the little room lacked splendor, save the jewelry that her brother displayed to no one but himself, built only to separate Alok from his mentor. A failed attempt to elevate a man too gargantuan to grow further.

Even the flooring was rough on the tail, not smooth stone but brick for retaining heat. Only care for function within these four walls.

Adur noted her brother’s tail was bare as she swept over the lacking room, only his leather work belt draped over the apex where tail met torso. Every bit of jewelry he wore crowded his wrists and fingers, noisy as he worked on some large bangle unfamiliar to her.

He looked haggard, frown too ugly and deep to be a mere product of concentration. Grey tickled the roots of his bangs, pronounced enough to shine in the lamplight. Alok was getting too old to be a prince with only time for his hobby.

“Sometimes I think it would be kinder to simply put you out of your misery,” Adur said, closing the door behind her.

Alok’s back tensed, but he did not pause his work, “I’m surprised you said it out loud, but don’t say it like a joke.”

“Don’t be so serious,” Adur sighed, “of course it was a joke.”

“Where is--”

“Your human delight? Running errands for me.”

Alok did turn then, face flickering through emotions too fast to name, “They’re just as much your dear friend as mine, you little viper.”

“Forgive my callousness, but I find you respond to little else,” Adur said, picking at the sheer fabric of her top so it draped correctly against her arm again. “And perhaps they are my friend. But they are not just yours.”

“I won’t be king...even if they weren’t here.”

Adur laughed in a sizzling tone, forked tongue dancing with humor, “Oh? And I suppose your little fantasies of running away involve you doing so alone?”

Only the flames licking back and forth in the small forge answered her.

“You’re too old to be deluding yourself like this,” she went on, dropping a bottle and a sheer robe on Alok’s work desk. “It’s time to make choices once and for all, brother.”

“I’m not--”

“I’m not asking you to rule. You’d be pathetic at it, yes, I know. If not for our dear human friend, you’d have flunked every tutor save for your precious jewelry maker.”

Alok curled back over his tail, fingers picking at the fabric of the robe his sister had dropped. “Then what are you asking?”

Hand on the doorknob, Adur smiled, “if you had your way and left to live like a common man with your human, would you really never come back?”

“Never.”

Adur opened the door. “Good.”

@

The drider--Woodnet? Woodne? Wodner?--stayed near the the door as you did, but unlike you his sleek, black legs rested on a few thin lines of webbing where wall met ceiling.

Slowly, Alok raised his face to address the bodyguard, entirely unused to being the short one. Worse still was the struggle to match sights with the correct pair of the drider’s many blinking eyes. If you were here, you’d have nudged him to follow your lead already.

If you were here...this wouldn’t be happening in the first place. Just another wishful thought to swallow down as Alok struggled to stay polite in the face of his father’s prime bodyguard.

“Outside the room is fine,” Alok said in a clipped tone, turning as he did to avoid dealing with anymore niceties.

“Forgive me for questioning, Prince Alok,” the drider said, voice drifting down like floating silk. “But bathing is when you are most vulnerable. I can not help but object to the risk.”

The drider polished each word, in no hurry to finish his sentence and Alok’s eyes rolled once--twice--thrice by the time there was silence. If only this were any guard other than his father’s favorite.

“I understand,” Alok said. “But, the windows are trapped and you will be guarding the only entrance.”

The sound of burdened legs skittering down stone, followed by the opening and closing of the lone, stone door was his answer.

Driders were generally no longer friends of Alok’s kingdom. Wodnel....no, Wodni perhaps, was a relic of a time long gone, when his father was just proving himself a leader of a nation. That Wodnir--that was it, Wodnir--was so protective of Alok, having sparsely been involved with him and having been enslaved through ruthless, warmongering means made Alok’s shoulders bunch, the muscles between protruding over scales.

Is that how it was between you and he? Did you feign fondness and care or was it true? Was it true but maligned of him to hope for it due to how you came to be near him? Because of he was?

Alok disrobed and slunk into the hot water, hoping to drown his pithy doubts that crowded so large in his mind.

Flakes of shed rose to the top the longer he soaked, proof of a difficult shed. There was sure to be more bits to come as he scrubbed himself with the, apparently, ‘to die for’ body scrub his sister had left last week.

You were usually the one to soothe his bubbling stress in a life of constant politics and decorum, but the bits of dead skin were proof enough that Alok truly was getting too old for delusions. You’d only been away for a week and a spare number of days and here he was, so tense that not even a hot bath could unfurl him.

Ugh.

Politics and decorum. How would he survive tonight without you? Adur was announcing her engagement tonight, in tandem with the nobles emerging from their collective sheds at the tail end of the Harvest Festival.

Alok scrubbed himself raw, hoping to emerge a new man who could weather life half as well as everyone around him. But the harder he lathed himself in soap, the clearer the truth rang.

If only he could have you.

@

You had relieved Wodnier of his duties, thanking him with a bow, and standing stiff beside the door for precious minutes, waiting for his delicate range of hearing to wane.

As an apprentice, you had met Wodnier often enough to know he wished you well as much as any spider did a fly.

Hammering against your chest, you feared the vibration of your heart was loud enough for him to hear. And there was always a chance the door shutting at the end of the curved hallway was a trap; that Wodnier still stood in Alok’s quarters and was not making his way back to the King.

But you didn’t have time to be safe, only quick.

Jittered by adrenaline, you sprinted to Alok’s room---toe first, heel last--and back, holding your breath once you made it back to the door of the bath.

Sweat pooled against your forehead, but nothing sprang toward you sans the faint sounds of Alok bathing.

You slipped past the door, the pack in your hands bulky enough that the door opened wider than you’d wanted, the hinge creaking.

“Alok?”

The figure behind the curtain froze before calling back your name.

“We don’t have much time, Alok,” you pressed in a sure voice, but your legs wobbled as you neared the curtain. “I’m....I’m running away and I’m taking you with me.”

“What?”

Coming past the curtain, your chest could barely contain your quick breathing. His hair was devoid of any gray, blacker than pitch as it fell just above his ear holes and forehead. Muddy brown and maroon scales were sleek and wet, droplets rolling down his body, even near his---

You looked back up quickly, away from where his belt always covered. “I mean, I want us to run away and we need to go now.”

Having followed your wandering gaze toward the apex of his stomach and tail, Alok frantically looked toward his arms, the muddy water, “What in the fuck is this?”

“Adur is helping us,” is all you said and it was all Alok seemed to need as he picked up the bottle the dye had been in, nodding. “She said it’ll only last until your next shed but, by then, hopefully....”

“She wants to be queen very much,” he murmured.

You tore open the pack, reminding yourself that time was short, and held them out. “Yes. So, we need to go.”

“You have no idea--,” Alok started, before interrupting himself. “I need something from the workshop.”

“We don’t have time.”

He shook his head as he took what you offered, dressing himself in plain leather and thick, scratchy wool. “It will be quick.”

You opened your mouth--- “Please.” --but couldn’t keep firm in the face of his pleading.

“Okay.”

@

Alok threw a few rings, bangles, and tools into the bag.

“Only enough to sell and get started again,” he assured.

But as you turned to leave the room, his hand was on your arm, pulling you back.

“We--”

“I love you,” he breathed, holding two thick, ornate bangles in his free hand. Both were decorated, from the side you could see, with marigolds, jewels gleaming in the center of their petals. You recognized each one.

One was the size to fit a large tail while the other...

“Alok.”

“I want us to leave belonging to one another.”

Your shaking hands dropped the large bag and his slid to hold both yours in his large one. “If we leave together, we’ll live together too won’t we?”

Even your head shook now, from side to side, hoping to discern the moment as waking or dreaming. “Alok. Of course, because...Of course we will.”

“Oh, please say it,” he said, tugging you nearer still.

He repeated your name and like a spell, you found your words, “We’ll live together because I love you, too.”

His thin mouth, soft and bloodless, fell to yours from his full height, his body curling over you as he pressed against your lips again.

“Let me put it on you,” he whispered, mouth moving against yours as you clung to him.

“Hurry and then we can....Just the bangles and then we must go before it’s too late.”

Careful of his claws, he lifted you to sit on his work table before slipping his own bangle over the small tip of his tail and up further, until it stuck in place under his belt.

There was no time to remove your pants, to mold the bangle against your bare thigh as was intended, but Alok’s thick hands skimming around the metal the entire way up burned as though he were doing just that.

You slid off the table, when the bangle was snug, to melt against him for one brief moment of loving calm, your face rubbing against his neck.

You didn’t have time for more.

After disentangling from his tight hold, you threw the bag at him, near tears as he scrambled to catch it. “I know it’s selfish, but I’m so glad you’re going to be mine instead of a king.”

And then you ran, hand in hand.

@

“Hey! Heeeeey,” one of the children yelled as the whole group of five ran toward you, kicking up dust on the dirt-packed road. “My momma said that snake man eats kids who don’t do chores!”

“My papa said he can’t help with the festival because he’s growing more arms!”

“That’s dumb, Brittany. My papa is smarter and he said the same thing as Corey’s momma. He’s a kid eater!”

The group shrieked in delighted horror as they squabbled on the specifics of what was really, truly going on in their village.

You hiked the basket in your arms higher after several attempts to respond, loudly telling them to pay attention or you’d leave.

As though pulled forward by strings, they straightened as still as a child could, a few even holding their hands over their mouths to keep silent.

“All of your parents are right,” you nodded, “Every two months he must curb his huge appetite and force back his new, child-grabbing arms so he doesn’t hurt the very naughty children of this village.”

They all clamored to stress their innocence in a cacophony of babbling that soon grew into questions.

“Is that why you live with him? ‘Cause you protect the village?”

“And him,” you said.

“At the same time?!”

“Of course, it’s my job. Now go back toward the smithy before you find out just how many arms he has.”

Lunging forward in jest was enough to urge the children away, all of them teasing the other that they would be last to get there and a snake man’s lunch.

@

“You’re horrible,” Alok groaned, scales pale pink and yellow from a successful shed. “Soon, they’ll be grown-ups, running us off.”

Hefting the basket onto the dining table, you laughed, “they adore you in secret.”

The cottages here were baked of mud, hay, and a few supportive beams of wood and yours was no different. There was no splendor in the room-less house, but it was truly yours and his. And that was luxury enough.

“They had enough this time?”

You shook the canteen of dye, moving to stand next to him on the low hammock that served as bed, “And the next shipment of birch will contain enough to last us three months or more.”

Alok smoothed his claw down your face, his own expression wistful, “I feel too content to explain.”

You pressed your nose against the pink of his jaw, letting him raise you to straddle him.

“Then show me.”

#monster x reader #monster x human #monster fucking #monster romance #exophillia #terato #monster boyfriend #naga x reader #naga boyfriend #naga x human #fluffy.foam #new.shork #goblin.writes #conch.answered #alienfromagalaxy #I love adur and it is a shame how much of her had to be cut to make this not a mess #exophilia

[nanatsumu]

HIGH SCHOOL!SUKUNA x F!READER

thinking about bad boy itadori sukuna who all the kids at school try to steer clear from because they know he’s bad news and if you get involved with him then you’re bound to be tied with bad luck for as long as he lives. well, that is everyone except for the president of the student council who so happens to be his childhood best friend turned lover.

this is mostly written for my own self indulgence and to project my fantasies of having a boyfriend onto sukuna but feel free to treat this as any other headcanon! ps i am pretty sure canon sukuna would kill a baby at any given situation, but this is going to be a revamped version of sukuna written by yours truly ;) and its a high school au so sukuna won’t be a complete menace to society and will actually have a heart heh

also i didn’t realize how long this was going to be??? this is kind of all over place too because i just wanted to throw all of my thoughts onto this post so there might be some plot holes in this LOL

i feel like sukuna would be the type of bad boy who isn’t necessarily a bad boy but everyone at school just paints him as some kind of delinquent because of all the tattoos and piercings he has.

he actually shows up to school more often than you think he would (but that’s only because you’re in most of his classes so long story short: you’re his only motivation for attending class)

“forgets” to bring his work books to class more than usual (in reality he does this on purpose so he has an excuse to be near you) so he requests to sit next to you the entire class period so he can share with you for the meantime but whenever the teachers not looking he’ll go back to admiring your face.

his older twin brother, itadori yuji, is very fond of you since you three grew up together and you both had your chances of being a victim to his antics!

exhibit a: in middle school when you and yuji were watching tv together, the show you two were watching would keep switching to some wrestling match broadcasting on a sports channel and no matter how many times you turned the tv on and off, it just would not stop. but it wasn’t until you heard snickering from the kitchen that you realized sukuna had a spare remote and was the mastermind behind the whole thing.

exhibit b: sukuna and yuji’s mom was the owner of a bakery so every now and then she would have either one of the twins come deliver freshly baked pastries to your household! oh how wrong was she to trust her youngest. sukuna was now a freshman in high school, and by now you would’ve thought that sukuna would have grown out of his childish phase, but WRONG! sukuna was still a menace in your life even past childhood. so when you bit into one of the macaroons, instead of being hit with the overwhelming taste of [favorite flavor], all you could feel was the burning sensation of wasabi kicking into your tastebuds.

yeah after the whole wasabi macaroon freak accident, you stopped accepting everything sukuna offered to you and opted to only eating pastries out of the boxes that yuji delivered to you. (sukuna eventually caught onto this and was just TEENSY bit upset but he would rather down a whole tube of wasabi than to tell you upfront)

now, how did you two even end up dating??? oh boy now that is a story

you see, yours and sukuna’s dynamic growing up was similar to that of tom and jerry’s— you being jerry and sukuna being 10x worse than tom of course

but it wasn’t until a confession after school behind the cherry blossom tree that was known for bringing good luck to successful confessions that sukuna finally realized that maybe he really did like you just a little lot bit

sukuna overheard the boy who was planning on confessing to you talking to his friend group about how “sweet and caring” you are (although sukuna could argue otherwise, you were a little brat. *LIKE HELLO?!&:&:& YOU WEREN’T THE ONE WHO ATE A MACAROON FILLED WASABI**) and obviously his ears perked up at the mention of your name. he grew up with you after all so naturally he would be interested in a conversation that revolved around you.

but then the boys started going on about how “you looked like an easy catch” and how “your body was bangin’!” yeah no, that’s where he drew the line. sure sukuna was an ass and talked shit about you most of the time (in his defense it wasn’t like he was doing it behind your back) but if he ever caught someone else talking about you like that then he would be sure to give them a hard time.

he hid behind one of the bushes near the cherry blossom tree while the boy was professing his love for you. funnily enough, for a moment sukuna forgot why he was originally there because he was too busy trying to stifle a laugh as he watched the boy stumble over his words.

“okay shows over” sukuna thought as the confession was reaching its conclusion, but just as he was about to step in and give the poor boy a piece of his mind, he stopped in his tracks when he heard you roaring with laughter.

“did you really think that i wouldn’t hear about what you and your friends said about me earlier? you’re really pathetic if you think any girl would be easy enough to fall to her knees for you because news flash! you’re a disgusting pig and you deserve to rot in hell for speaking about a girl’s worth like that.”

“it’s kind of sad too, i thought you were a nice boy and i probably would have given you a chance but it seems like you’re even worse than scum! damn it, to think there was somebody out there who’s even worse than sukuna.”

of course sukuna was not pleased to hear that last bit, but he did have a proud grin forming on his face as he watched the boy run away, flustered from your rejection and the embarrassment he was put through.

“sukuna i know you’re hiding behind the bush.”

“huh? i came here way before you got here, there’s no way you could have seen me.” he said as he stood up to his full height.

“well, your laughter isn’t exactly the quietest, plus i can spot that hair of yours from a mile away.”

lets just say, sukuna was glad you didn’t ask him what he was doing there because he wasn’t sure if he could spare the embarrassment of telling you that he was planning on ruining the confession.

after that whole fiasco happened, sukuna started to feel(!&:&::&) things

like he started to notice how you styled your hair differently one day and how you switched to a new perfume that smelled like spearmint (was that weird? for sukuna probably not. he just excuses it as being highly observant)

you weren’t dumb either, you had a feeling sukuna was there that day of the confession because he too had overheard the conversation between the boy and his friends as well (you knew he was prideful and if you brought it up then he probably would’ve denied it)

so from there on out it was just mutual pining at the point except... well.... not really??

i feel like it was just an unspoken agreement between you two that you guys were “together” but not “together together” because he started to treat you differently than he would before. like for example, he’d carry your bag for you whenever you guys would walk home (yuji was confused by this at first because if anything, it would have made more sense to see sukuna make you carry HIS bag, but he eventually caught on to sukuna’s feelings for you because they were twin brothers after all), he started walking you to class more often even though his class was all the way on the other side of the school (you asked him why but he just shrugged and said he was just “killing time” so that he wouldn’t have to go to class and then you ended up scolding him), and there was also that one time you miraculously found a $20 bill in your backpack after mentioning to sukuna that there was this cute top you saw at the mall the other day but didn’t have enough money at the time to purchase it (you asked him about this but he said it was probably yuji, but you didn’t want to pry any further since you wanted to cherish the fact that sukuna cared that much)

but eventually you got sick of this whole push and pull game that you physically had to tug the collar of his school uniform and pull him in for a kiss (he was visibly shocked at this because he never would’ve imagined you as the assertive type. not that he was complaining though)

“oya? didn’t think you liked me this much kitten.” he said laughing while you rolled your eyes.

“as if, i got tired of you being a wuss so one of us had to wear the pants in the relationship.” you snorted, causing him to irk.

to be honest, your relationship with him is smooth sailing because you both were pretty chill people and you didn’t have to worry about him sneaking behind your back to see other girls because 1. literally all the girls at school are terrified of him and 2. he knew what you were capable of doing to him if you were to ever catch him cheating on you so he wants to stay on your good side

jealous and possessive don’t exist in his dictionary because he is the epitome of those two words. remember what i said about how your relationship is smooth sailing? i kinda lied.

he’s easily jealous like for example: when you were in english class and the teacher had you guys jot down some notes, you realized you forgot to ask for your pencil back when you lent it to your friend last period.

so you asked sukuna to borrow a pencil but instead of giving you a pencil, he called you an idiot for being so forgetful.

this makes you mad so you turn to your male classmate since he was sitting on your opposite side and ask him for a pencil instead.

sukuna was practically fuming the entire class period and once the day ended and you two were back at your place, he made sure to mark you real good. (oh he also went out to buy a pack of mechanical pencils to sneak into your backpack so that next time you forget your pencils, you’ll have 10 extra pencils sitting in your backpack as backup)

he’s not a big fan of pda in public, but on the chances he will show some of it, the most he will do is wrap an arm around your shoulder or waist whenever some dude is trying to hit on you.

BUT IN PRIVATE? better buckle up because your in for a ride wink wink

really likes putting hickeys on you to a fault! but will never put any visible ones on your neck because he doesn’t want your parents to view him as some kind of animal (but he has nothing to worry about because your parents really like him and are grateful for the fact that he’s very loyal to you, and you guys grew up together so it’s only natural that your parents are accepting of him since they already know he has a good heart underneath that tough facade of his)

oh, and yuji starts learning how to knock whenever you come over (or shuts himself in his room for the meantime if he thinks it’s unsafe to step out of his room) because chances are, you’re probably making out with sukuna in his room or smth.

now onto the spicy stuff

when you and sukuna first started dating, the first thing you told him was that you weren’t ready to have sex yet because you were nervous and sukuna understood and told you that he was willing to wait for whenever you were ready.

but when you were ready though, it was kind of spontaneous and you weren’t even wearing a matching pair of bra and underwear that day

you two were chilling in your room watching some stupid (according to sukuna) animal documentary when suddenly you felt his hand on your thigh

dating sukuna and all, it was normal for him to have his hands on some part of your body (whether it be your thigh or your waist) while you two were in bed.

but you were feeling a bit bolder HORNEE than usual so you began to leave a hot trail of kisses starting from his jaw all the way down to his neck.

sukuna obviously got the memo but before those kisses could escalate into something more daring, he asked you once more if you were completely sure you wanted to do it and once you gave him the green light, he was quick to tug his shirt over his head and pounce on you.

he started getting really into it though and accidentally bit your thigh which made you loose your high and scold him for it, but he let out a hearty laugh and muttered a quick apology before getting back into business

sike i lied, remember what i said about it being spontaneous? yeah, you technically didn’t loose your virginity to him that day because after he finished prepping you, you both came to a realization that you didn’t have a condom.

oh well, there’s always next time!

i think sukuna is a sucker for pet names: his favorite thing to call you is either kitten or princess and that’s it LOL he finds calling you baby or babe is a bit too cheesy for him

but he likes it when you call him baby or babe ;)

date nights consist of either staying in and cuddling in his room, going out for a walk at night (but very very late though. there’s still lamp posts that guide your way through the streets but it gives you the heebie jeebies to be out walking outside so late. sukuna always reminds you that nothing bad will happen as long as he’s right by your side), or just spending time with you and your families.

but if you’re really down to do it, he’ll probably initiate a make out session that’ll lead to y’all fucking one way or another (he only ever does it if he is 100% sure that you’re feeling it because he knows you get easily embarrassed if he asks you straight up)

(this part is mainly written for me because i love the idea of sukuna being over at family functions, but it can be applied as part of the general hc heh) if you took him to any of your family functions as your plus one for the first time, all the aunts and uncles would be a bit wary of him at first due to all of the tattoos and piercings he has (sukuna swears he has never felt so self conscious before) but after they strike up a conversation with him and find out that he’s actually a good guy who knows what he wants to do in the future and is very loyal to you, they start to like him more.

your little cousins adore him and love it when he comes over because sukuna is a very tall high schooler which makes him the perfect candidate as a monkey bar

so when you noticed that all the little ones started to climb on his body and mess around with his hair, you were quick to react because you knew your boyfriend was easily irritable which prompted you to think he hated kids

but there was nothing to worry about because when you saw him playing around with them and even crack a smile, you felt your heart grow fuzzy at the sight and you knew right then and there that you wanted to stick by sukuna’s side for the rest of your life

and in the unfortunate circumstances that sukuna is too busy to make it to one of your functions, the first thing everyone asks is “where’s your boyfriend?” or “where’s ‘kuna? i wanna play with him!”

so you have to facetime him and let him know that everyone is wondering where he is (your phone is dead by the end of the night because after the adults get their turn at saying hi to your boyfriend, the kids snatch your phone and end up talking to him for the rest of the night)

but in conclusion, everyone is waiting for the day he gets on one knee to propose to you and your parents are itching to get to get call sukuna their son-in-law :))

also don’t forget that your parents want two grandchildren: one boy and one girl!

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna hc #ryomensukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen hc #jjk hc #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #anime #anime fanfic #jjk

[maddieinwonder]

A Lesson In Romance #3: The Cast

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.5k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, the team figures it out.

A/N: I'm guilty of writing too much Morgan and Garcia but I can't help it — they're so much fun! I think them plus Emily would have the most dramatic reactions to Spencer in a (potential) relationship, though I'm excited to write about the rest too.

(Also, the reference at the end is from Lord of the Rings, because I love Lord of the Rings.)

Masterlist | All chapters here!

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If you've learned anything from rom-coms, it's that every romantic lead needed a supporting cast. Whether they were siblings, parents, or childhood best friends, the main character needed somebody who would drop everything to talk to them — preferably showing up at their doorstep with face masks, nail polish, and a bottle of wine.

In your life right now, you suppose those people would be your teammates from the BAU.

Of course, this hypothetical scenario didn't require your potential love interest to be from work, but let's say for the purposes of the discussion that they were. Then you hoped, at least, that they would have an IQ of 150 or higher and a propensity for wearing mismatched socks.

But you were getting ahead of yourself. You were simply imagining the hypothetical scenario where your life was a rom-com. Hypothetically, you would need a love interest, and hypothetically, you kind of already had one.

“Hey,” Spencer waved you over from across the coffee shop. It wasn’t difficult to spot him when the place was nearly vacant. Everything was slow and quiet this early in the morning, and you weren’t going to make an exception.

“Morning,” you greeted softly as you sat down, relaxing into the smell of freshly roasted coffee and baked goods.

“I already ordered yours.” He smiled, tucking his book away in his messenger bag. “They had bagels this morning. Yours is cream cheese, but mine is strawberry jelly.” He looked overly pleased with himself, and you couldn’t help but crack a sleepy smile.

You eyed the spread in front of you, before lifting your gaze to meet his. “So your theory that you can predict my taste in desserts seems to be getting better.”

"Yes!" He shout-whispered, silently raising his fists in victory. “I knew I was right.”

You giggled at his overexcitement over something as small as getting your dessert order right. Although, he did once spend ten whole minutes explaining to you why dessert for breakfast was an underrated concept, so you couldn't say this was beyond your expectations for Dr. Spencer Reid.

You propped your head up with your arms, a smile plastered over your face. “Have I ever told you that you’re a weirdo, doctor?” You teased.

“Why, yes. Yes you have.” He replied with a smile, gesturing at you to try the bagel. His own was almost-gone, so they must be good.

And it was. Your eyes fluttered shut as the heavenly combination of carbs and cream woke up your taste buds. It was made even better with a sip of the perfect cup of coffee.

"Perfect," you sighed happily, digging into your breakfast further as Spencer quietly caught you up on the latest news in classical art.

Two weeks ago, you wouldn't have guessed that you would talk to Spencer alone, much less spend your mornings together with him. But as it turned out, a lot could change in a few days.

After the initial awkwardness between you had passed, you found that the two of you shared a lot more interests than interdimensional doctors and space opera. You both loved coffee, obviously, but you also had a mutual love for desserts, classical literature, and history.

It didn't take long for these interests to seep into the weekend, resulting in a suspiciously date-like afternoon with Spencer at his favourite museum. But you tried not to think too much into it. After all, the day had ended with a "see you at work", and not a "would you like to come in?"

Still, your dance between friendship and something more continued to grow wilder as days passed, until it reached a point where it inhabited your every waking thought. The only time it didn't, ironically, was when you were spending time with the person in question and every stray thought seemed to fall away.

Your mornings with him brought a necessary reprieve to the dark realities of this job, and some days you almost had to drag yourself out of your seat, knowing that you were straying from the calm of his company straight into the lion's mouth. But duty always called.

Your sudden hesitance to be apart from the resident genius hadn't gone unnoticed by the rest of your team either; ever since the two of you walked into office one morning with matching coffee cups and smiles on your faces.

At first you enjoyed Spencer's company too much to care, but you knew that it was going to bite you back one day. And today seemed to be that day.

You could tell, because the lift doors to the BAU opened to one very determined Penelope Garcia with her arms folded across her chest. "Spit it out, you two," she said sharply without any greeting.

You and Spencer looked at each other, confused, before looking back at Penelope. "Spit out what, Pen?" You asked, a frown starting to form between your eyes.

"You know what I mean!" She squeaked, dropping her stern facade for a brief moment. "Are the two of you dating? The entire team has been dying to know, and I mean, d-y-i-n-g because there's a huge pot of money with my name on it if you are."

"Ah— No— I mean, you think—" Spencer stammered, his face instantly turning beet red in embarrassment, while your face began to grow red for another reason entirely.

"I think what he means is 'no', and what I mean to say is— what do you mean the entire team?" You half-yelled the question, while Penelope raised her hands defensively.

"What I mean, sugar, is that the two of you went from avoiding each other completely, to coming into work together everyday — and I know you spent last weekend together too, because you couldn't stop talking about it the next day at work and everybody noticed." She stated, pushing up her glasses.

"Not to mention, Dr. Reid here started wearing brighter colours subconsciously." She continued with her observations. "I know this, because in the almost four years I've worked with this man, I've never seen him wear anything brighter than violet. Or white. Or beige. But those don't count." She shook her head, getting back to her point.

"You get what I mean— and you," she pointed her pen in your direction, causing you to jump slightly. "You finally stopped doubting yourself as a part of this team. I knew this when you started talking more often during briefings — which I have nothing against, B-T-W, I totally support any effort in self-care and personal growth — but you also stopped shifting in your seat which you used to do when you felt nervous."

Penelope took a deep breath, preparing for the climax. "So all I can assume, is either you've been attending one of the 52 self-help classes that happen every weekend in Virginia, or somebody has been helping you find some serious zen."

"And my money's on the latter because every time you think nobody's watching, you're making eyes at Reid. But you're wrong. Garcia is always watching." She concluded triumphantly, raising one finger to point at herself.

"You might make a good profiler yet, doll." Derek remarked, walking up to the group with a smirk firmly affixed to his face.

"Expert at all things romance, and Cupid of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, Penelope Garcia at your service." She smiled, graciously curtseying to your other teammate.

"I know you're smart like that, babygirl," he grinned, draping his arm around her shoulder, "but you also don't know pretty boy as well as I do, because they aren't in a relationship."

He turned to you questioningly. "Are you?"

"No." You replied, glancing hesitantly at Spencer for his response, but his face simply looked blank with shock.

"See? Now it's time to collect my payout." Derek grinned at the tech analyst, making the motion of raining dollar bills.

Penelope tailed behind him grumpily as he walked into the BAU office, surely to share the "good news" with everybody else.

You hesitated to follow, imagining what teasing and looks would follow regardless of the outcome. Then you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, Spencer gestured back at the empty lift with his head and you smiled, realising what he meant.

"That is the best hypothesis you've had all morning," you said. The two of you shared a laugh as you got back into the lift.

Even behind glass doors, you could hear a muffled "What?!" that you guessed came from Emily. "There's absolutely no way those two aren't together already. Have you seen them?"

There was a brief pause, then a loud groan.

"I know, that's what I told him!" Penelope's high-pitched voice was clear. "You know I'm going to be right about them eventually—"

The lift doors finally closed, blocking out the rest of their conversation. You looked up at Spencer, your gaze meeting his clear hazel eyes. He looked at his watch briefly before saying the next words.

"We've got time. Are you up for second breakfast?" He asked, referencing a movie from a conversation two weeks ago. He remembered. Of course he remembered.

You cleared your throat before replying the next line. "What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper?"

He laughed, and you felt a familiar peace return to you.

Whatever your teammates were yelling about, the two of you could deal with it later. Together.

-----------

Tag list:

@blue-space-porgs @nobutalsoyes @lady-loves-a-lot

#mads fics #spencer reid x reader: a lesson in romance #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #cm fic #cm fanfic #bau #aaron hotchner #hotch #derek morgan #emily prentiss #david rossi #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #criminal minds

[thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness]

Toshiya’s Creativity Vol 7: Looking back at Life This time, as Toshiya’s birthday is getting closer, we asked him to look back on his life. From his childhood to boyhood in Nagano and moving to Tokyo after his awakening to music. And the present. Memories, present and future…. Blessed with good weather, we did this interview in a localisation where you could feel the arrival of spring.  “For me, music is the most stimulating thing. It was a way to escape from reality” “I think it’s a miracle I met these 4 people.” “When you are standing on stage in front of the audience, you should be a special person that nobody can’t replace”

Notes before reading: This is from ‘Toshiya’s creativity’, the serialization done by Ster Edge Magazine and later compiled into a book with the same name. This is Vol 07 (Ster Edge 006) , which was published in March 2018.  Originally, I planned to post this for Toshiya’s birthday but....life.  Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistake or any confusing parts. Links or credits to this post when the content is reposted or captured in other SNS is appreciated :)

------ 2017 marked the 20th anniversary of the formation of DIR EN GREY. Toshiya also had the opportunity to look back on the history of the band at various locations. This time, we asked him to look back on his ‘life’ just before his birthday on March 31st. How did he feel at that time? What did he realize at that moment and what does he think now? It was an interview that gave us a glimpse of his enigmatic way of thinking and a part his feelings. Toshiya is from Nagano prefecture. He says the environment in which he grew up was "a normal countryside one” in “a normal family”. In our previous talk with Hide TANAKA, a flower designer who is a childhood friend of Toshiya, which was published in "Toshiya's Creativity Vol6", he talked about his childhood, but  we will explore this further,  in a bit more personal way. When he was asked about his oldest memory, he folded his arms, thought for a moment, and then opened his mouth. “This memory comes quickly to my mind. There was something like an agricultural cooperative bazaar/rummage sale being held near my grandparent's house, and I think they took me to it. I was very impressed by a child of the same age as me at that time who was lost and crying alone. So, I remember holding my grandpa and grandma's hands tightly and saying, ‘Don’t lose me!’ (laughs).” His grandparents' home and his home were close, so he often went out with his grandparents from an early age. “I was close to my grandfather and my grandmother. I remember I was the type of child loved by the elderly. I’m still quite in contact with my family and relatives, we have a good relationship. But it wasn't something special, it was normal for me at the time. My hometown is a normal countryside town, where  nothing is  like this city, it feels like there are only mountains and rice fields. I also liked drawing at home and playing outside. I was playing like a normal country child would do.” Young Toshiya seems to have grown up in the nature of Nagano. It seems his parents also respected the things he wanted to do. “I was in a sports boys' team, a baseball team, and I practised kendo. I feel like I certainly did what I wanted. I liked physical activities. I wasn’t strong or weak at sports, after all I was normal (laughs). My parents taught me soroban (Japanese abacus), and in junior high school I attended a cram school. I think I got a textbook to study English through radio lessons. I just pretended to play the abacus, and I wasn't good at it at all (laughs). " Toshiya was a boy who was devoted to sports. He talked to Hide about playing the guitar when he was young, but was he interested in music and instruments at that time? “No, no at all. My mother's brother used to play the guitar and I was just using that guitar as a toy instead. More than playing, I was killing time. It felt like that. At that time, I had no dreams for the future. When I was told to write about my dream for the future, I just wrote ‘be a salary man, like my father’. I think that was the safest choice (laughs). The children of my class said ‘I want to be a police officer’ or ‘I want to be a pilot’, but I wasn't interested in what I wanted to do in the future at all.” He said ‘normal’ many times while talking about himself in the past but while listening to his talk, he didn't feel like that for some reason, he had a mysterious aura since he was a boy. He said the thing that young Toshiya was more interested in was ‘wild ideas/fantasies’. “I think it was like that in the past. Didn’t you have any ‘wild idea’ /fantasy on your way to school or coming back from it? I liked that kind of thing. As I liked Gundam, I thought ‘I want to ride one’. Sometimes I went home with my friends, but more often I went home alone. It was about a 30-minute walk from my house to school, so it was days of spending all that time doing that (laughs).” Perhaps he was a boy who had his own world and the strength to be alone. “No, no, I didn't think deeply about that. I never felt scared to be alone…. the reason I went home alone was it was easier for me to go home alone (laughs). I'm older than my siblings, so I grow up as an only child for a while. That’s why it was normal for me to be alone. Most of the boys and girls I played with were older kids who lived near my house” Toshiya, an elementary school boy who often played with older boys and girls who lived in the neighbourhood, gradually got more chances to listen to popular songs at his senpais' homes. Boøwy was the catalyst for him to have an instrument. “Boøwy was a cool band that older seniors listened to. When I got into middle school, there were about one or two people in the class who liked Western music. When I became friends with those guys, I was told ‘You are still listening to Japanese music?’ (laughs). From that moment, I started to dig deeper into Western music.” Then, that Toshiya in middle school becomes more and more absorbed in music. It was around this time that he started to have in his mind that he wanted to play an instrument. “Besides Boøwy and X…..From overseas… I listened to Van Halen. Then, bands like Europe, Guns N'Roses,Bon jovi….. as it was the golden age of LA metal (glam metal), I liked that kind of stuff. I listened to the X’s single ‘Kurenai’ at home. That song starts with a ballad-like part, and then it gets fierce at once, but when I was playing it at first, I could hardly hear any sound. I still remember that suddenly it made a loud noise when I turned up the volume, I was surprised and desperately turned down the volume (laughs). " As Toshiya told us this funny incident, for sure there are many people who had a similar experience. What elements of these bands inspired Toshiya in middle school? "The music was exciting, but the fashion and performance were shocking ... Every band was very unrealistic. It seems that I was taken to a different world at that time. The feelings were very strong.  Since TV was the only way to collect information, I think the influence from TV on me was huge.” He has been absorbed in band activities since high school. The first thing he got in his hands was a guitar, not a bass. He doesn't have get the chance to play the guitar on stage right now, but he uses the guitar to make songs. "After all, I started playing the guitar because I admired some guitarists, but I thought 'It's difficult to play with 6 strings. It's a little easier with 4 strings.' After all, I thought it would be easier if there aren’t many chords to hold down. Also, I thought the bass was in a position that didn’t stand out much compared to other instruments, so I thought it would be interesting because that means there were many interesting possibilities about playing” Toshiya, who liked drawing since childhood, went to an art school while being in a band, after graduating from high school. Although he is good at drawing, he eventually chose the musical path. “I didn't want to get a job after graduating from high school, but I didn’t want to study something either. However, I liked drawing, so I asked my parents to attend an art school. At school, the places where the people who graduated there got a job are displayed at the corridor, isn’t it? I was looking at that and I thought ‘Ah? I don't think many people can get a job in the world of drawing’. I don’t think there are many jobs available when it comes to drawing. I thought ‘I like drawing but as this is more a hobby than a job, there is no point in spending money to study it. I’m going to spend my time doing what I like’. After all, I left the art school in about a year. After all, you only live once, and I may regret not doing what I want to do…..That's why I decided to go on the path of music for real. Music is the most stimulating thing for me. Making music was fun and I think it was a bit an escape from reality. I could be a different person than the one I was in my daily life….I wonder if these ‘extraordinary things’ became an stimulus for me.” Immediately after that, Toshiya goes to Tokyo to be fully into band activities as a band man. An era in which the Internet is hardly widespread it was important to move to make his own path. He took action and met various people. “When I went to Tokyo, I met and talked with several people. I was told often that ‘those who move out their hometowns had already won’. I thought there was no chance  if I stayed in the countryside and I started doing band activities quietly. There may be various risks and scary feelings, but if you really want a chance, you have to go to the place where there is information. Of course, I think that taking no action is also one of the options. There may be a way to improve your skills locally, or you can go out to the city to seize opportunities, and I think it's up to you to decide which one to choose. I met the members (of DIR EN GREY) in Tokyo, so I think I wouldn't have been in this band if I hadn't come to Tokyo. " "I think it was a miracle that I could meet the other 4 members” Toshiya, who met Kyo,Kaoru, Die, and Shinya, moved to Kansai and started band activities there . In 1997, DIR EN GREY was formed. They made their national debut in 1998, and made his major debut in 1999 with the release of the singles "Akuro no Oka", "ZAN-" and "Yurameki".  He thought ‘Because I only have one life, I may regret not doing what I want to do’, and took action. About three years later, Toshiya's life changed. "I think most people in the music world are like that…..At that time, I didn't know what I was doing, but I was confident. I think it's a little scary when I think about my confident at that time. I had such a simple idea that in a way or another, we were going to make it. That's why I didn't think anything strange, the biggest thing was that I didn't have any strange fear. As I grew up, I started to think about things I hadn't thought of before. I was getting more and more involved with people, but I didn’t have that kind of thing when I was young. I think that was the biggest driving force. When I look back on it now, I feel envious of that feeling that nothing was going to stop me.” It was a brilliant  and sensational success. It was probably the tremendous power of these five people that attracted that success, which the appropriate world to describe it would be “comet”. A comet that seen from a distance was very beautiful but, how did DIR EN GREY feel about it, being the comet themselves? “We didn’t fully understand the situation we were in. There was a strong feeling we were getting into a world we didn’t know. We were an active part of that, but it felt like we were outsiders. At that time, music had a stimulating sense of unreality but also the fear that it became real started to spring up. At that time, it felt like that many times. DIR EN GREY was called the “last boom” of the scene we were in and I think we were lucky. There was also a part of us that tried to not be absorbed by that boom” DIR EN GREY’s activities have been very creative since then. From this formation until their debut, the band didn’t lose their spirits and kept their aggressive stance. Continuing to present things with a strong emphasis in musicality and fashion making a distinction in the middle of that ‘boom’, they built a unshakeable fortress called DIR EN GREY. “At that time, various media such as TV and magazines talked to us, but we tried not to go in that direction. I was influenced by TV in terms of knowing music, but when it comes to my own work, I didn’t think about becoming the kind of musician that appears on TV. Of course, I thought it would be the best if we got TV exposure but…..at some point, there were things that cold me off. ‘This boom won’t last forever’, it’s easy to get on that boom, but once the boom is over, it’s gone. At that time, I might not have thought so much about it, but I instinctively felt that it was dangerous to get into that boom” It’s not just Toshiya, all DIR EN GREY members agreed. “Sometimes thanks to the boom and the media, they (the listeners) get to know about you. I think it’s the best way to get people know about you but, I also think it’s really dangerous. I think there were some people who succumbed to that kind of excitement. We were cautious because we were the only ones who could protect ourselves, no one else would protect us.” Because DIR EN GREY decided that it was dangerous to get drawn by that boom, they were able to pursue the music and expressions they wanted to do in a deeper way. A different strength from that boom. “That’s right…. We didn’t really understand what happened, we couldn’t say ‘ we did this so this happened after’, there were moments we relied on ourselves, but there were also moments that we relied on others. I guess that balance was good. However, we tried to not get into that wave of popularity as much as possible” DIR EN GREY continued to run ahead of the boom without appearing in the mainstream media, toured Asia in 2002, achieving the first overseas expansion. Due to changes in music aspects, the attention they got from overseas increased and in 2005, they performed in Berlin, marking their first solo concert in Europe. From there, they started to held live performances around the world. Their music spread to the world in proportion to the rise of the Internet. Their journey was so innovative in the music scene that many artists used them as their role model. Should it be called ‘a miracle’ caused by  a natural sense of balance? “I think this (the overseas expansion) was something rare for us. ‘Something like this is what we want’, ‘It would be good if you could show this or that’……we were told these kind of things so maybe it (a miracle) happened. First of all, I think it’s a miracle I met these 4 people.” Toshiya said this a little shy smile.  There aren't many bands that have been so active for 20 years without changing members or stopping their activities. It's a miracle. “Because it’s an aspect that you can’t control…the things you do and the people you meet. I think it’s a miracle in that sense as well.” After 20 years, there were changes as an individual person, and there were changes in the way they interact with music. He says it's not just about music, ‘No matter what you do, if you make a mistake, you're done’, he adds. “Everyone calls me an 'artist', but I don't feel like one. The easiest thing to say would be ‘free person’ (laughs).  As I don’t have the experience of a normal working life, waking up at the same time on weekdays mornings, getting on the same train every day, rather than an artist, I would say I’m a free person. However, if there is a misunderstanding, I come to think of myself as ‘someone special’ who can’t live a normal life. It’s dangerous and scary. But humans are creatures that make mistakes (laughs).” Is it his way of saying that there was a “misunderstanding” in the past? “Well, there is. I made mistakes. That's why I'm scared. At the time of the debut, the number of adults  I didn’t know increased around me. No matter what you do, many people was moving. That became something common. But that many people come, means that many people also leave…. Shortly after my debut, a friend from Nagano told me two things. One was ‘it’s good you can do what you like’, and the other was ‘Did you start a band to be admired/ to be pampered?’ Those words were quite a big deal for me. I thought I couldn't stay that way, so I had to change my way of thinking a little more. The words this person told me made me feel sad but then I said ‘Isn’t it good? Why you don’t try to do your best too?’ (laughs).” Toshiya laughs and says ‘I want to be a person with an ordinary consciousness’. His way of talking and manners are soft, giving an impression that he is a person who has nothing to do with the word ‘rude’. “In my teens,  my senpais were unconventional and  I admired a lot their messy behaviour but unfortunately,  times are very different now. When we were children, we thought about what to buy and how to use the money we received for New Year's  but nowadays  children seem to save money. It might be good to do something unconventional and have a dream in such a conservative era, but I'm not that age anymore. Now, if I do something like that, I’d be in a difficult position (laughs). That’s why being a person with an ordinary consciousness would be the ideal”. “When you stand on stage in front of  the audience, you should be a special person that nobody can’t replace” When you ask him about music activity, the talk extends to other topics that are not limited to music. The concept of the brand 'DIRT 100% Natural Dirty' produced by him is 'unisex real clothes that can be worn in a wide range of occasions from casual to formal’, the design  not only affects the clothes but also the spaces that surround your daily life. Toshiya proposes and produce unique and original clothes for daily life.  The fact that the words ‘life’ and ‘everyday’ are included means that for Toshiya, as music, his brand production and life are something that flows together, not something that can be separate from each other. “There isn’t really a distinction. But both, music and brand production, I can’t call them ‘work’. Of course I can’t remove the business part of it but I don’t think it’s work. This interview is also part of my job, that’s why I’m definitely switched on my ‘business mode’. If you like something in a pure way, you shouldn’t make a business of it. Of course, I make music and produce clothes because I like it, but the truth is that you can’t just do something because you like it. That’s why I think I have to do it. For example,  of course I would say ‘I want to do this’ to the company but  saying NO to everything that the company suggests, like ‘I want you to do this, I think it’s just selfish. If I’m allowed to do what I want to do, then I have to do also what the company wants me to do, otherwise, it won’t work. If you just want to do whatever you want,  it would be like ‘why don't you do it by yourself? I think I'm doing it with several people because I can't do it alone.” It might be because of this that the band DIR EN GREY continue to be active with the same members. It’s  only because they have their own opinions but also they have the capacity to listen and absorb other people’s opinions. “I have a firm ideal within myself. However, there are times  you will realize things listening to other people’s opinions and absorbing them. When you have a talk with several people that are experts in something, new opinions that I didn’t know before are born. I often think that it’s like the scales fall from my eyes, and it leads to new discoveries. There might be a reason why we don’t aim to “do things by ourselves’. It's not that music and brands can't be done alone…. I feel that if I go alone, I might make a mistake. Going back to I said before, if you think of yourself as 'special', I think it's not going to go in the right direction….But it's an exception when you stand on stage in front of the audience. , you should be a special person that nobody can’t replace” No matter how good a person is, they may stop at some point. Toshiya was no exception. However, he says with confident ‘I still have many things that I want to do’. “I've often thought ‘this is my limit’. I have thought many times ‘I don't have any ideas, I don't like it, it's hard’..... But then, I’ve always come up with ideas and images such as "I want to do something like that" or "Let's do something like this". I've been doing something like that all the time….I think my desire for expression will never run out. I don't think things can be made from scratch. Everything is imitation of something,  an arrangement of something….I think that’s the trigger for the ramification of creation.  In your daily life, you can see various things and various things will happen, so I hope to reflect in my work what is happening at that moment.” Will Toshiya reach a turning point in his life soon? In the last talk, he wondered if he would become an adult when he is 50 or 60 years old. He also said he wanted to be 50 or 60 years old soon. He set his mind on the idea of ‘You only have one life, if you don’t do the things that you want, you’ll regret it’. Until now, he has devoted his life to the band so is he satisfied with that or is there any regrets? “It’s half satisfaction, half regrets (laughs).  I think I have more regrets, though. When I was in elementary school I thought that at my age I would be living in my hometown, I’d be married and would have kids…’I wish I had done that at that time’….’I didn’t do that’….things like that, if I start mentioning them, there would be no end. But you can’t do anything about the things you didn’t do, I think the perception will change if you look at it with regrets or as a reflection. Sayingt that ‘I could become an adult once I’m 50 or 60 years old” means I entrusted to my future self, things I can’t do now. It’s a way of escapism, though(laughs). I feel like the things I can’t do now will be easier in the future and the range of the things I’ll be able to do will be wider. I will pursue forever the person I aspired to become when I was a child. I think it’s a human thing to do that.” Toshiya’s voice “I requested this photoshoot to take place somewhere near the sea. Since my birthday was closer, I did an interview looking back on my life. If anything, it felt like the interview was important. As we went to Odaiba, the travel time was longer. The talk about the Olimpics in the car was exciting.

#dir en grey #toshiya #translation #toshiyatranslations

[littlewomenpodcast]

You are meant for labor not for love

Podcast Transcript Part 1

Christina: Hi. I finally get to talk to you, not person to person, but still back and forth. Niina:  Great to talk to you too! Would you like to start by introducing yourself and what is your relationship with Little Women. Christina: Hello. My name is Christina and if you are on Tumblr you probably know my blog, JoandFriedrich. It was started because I just love them so much and tough they did not get the recognition they deserved. I have been a fan of little women for the longest time. First time I read it was when I was between the ages of 10 to 12. That was some around the ages I started to read it. Been a fan ever since. Niina: That´s amazing. Christina: It was the great illustrated copy of it. It was the abridged version and then over the years I finally get to hold the copy that was´t unabridged version. It was a journey to get into where I am at right now. Almost full blown obsession. Niina: I think one of the reasons why I actually started my podcast was because of your blog. When I was younger I was obsessed with Little Women. I was in LiveJournal and there was an Amy and Laurie group and Jo and Friedrich group and I was lurking there. They slowly vanished and I think your blog was the only place where I could find other people that were interested from the canon. Everywhere else it was just about the films or very strange views about Little Women that I did not agree. I am very grateful for your blog and I think many others are too.

Christina: That is so great to hear. I mean, I felt just like you. Either most of the people that were around me didn´t know or care about Little Women and those who did only knew the movie versions. Many of them are great. I have many thoughts about the most recent one. Most of the time most film versions seem to put more focus on Jo and Laurie and I was like. No! I remember when reading the book, it almost felt incestuous to me because I always identified with Jo and I have a brother and so much of Jo´s and Laurie´s relationship while they were growing up felt very much like how me and my brother would interact.  This very goofy, ridiculous antics to the point where I would probably do some of the more "boy-stuff". So when people were like "oh Jo and Laurie" I was like "eew" That´s No. I can´t, like not at all. That for me was just too weird. I can´t even fathom the thought of Jo and Laurie at all. Niina: That is very true and then there is a quote from Louisa May Alcott where she writes that she wrote Laurie to be the brother that she never had. Christina: Yeah. It is very shocking that most people don´t pick up on that. Really how incredibly brother and sister their relationship is like and I know that some people are like "Oh I love the idea of childhood friends to lovers but I´m like not them. Not them at all. Niina: I think with Laurie there are lots of things that people just ignore about his character and we´v talked about this before, like the cat-fishing and the proposal and him threatening to hurt himself if she says no and all these very disturbing red flags are there, but they are not in the films and most people don´t know about them. Christina: It´s amazing just how the media will change your perception of what a story is because I remember, I don´t know if you have seen it, I don´t remember if it was their own post or someone replying to a post they were like "after watching the 2019 film movie maybe I will go and read the book" and they were not just surprised but whole blown shocked to see that there was no, not even a hint of Jo and Laurie in it and they were like in away disappointed and kind of upset that Gerwig would do that when the book never did. It is amazing how media/movies and what not will change how we perceive how the story should be, because that is not how it went at all. Niina: Somebody commented quite recently that Gerwig cared more about the actors than the book itself and I think that might be true. I think it´s also a problem in 1994 film and maybe in the 1949 film. She is just continuing this long tradition of romanticizing Laurie. There is no excuses for that. Christina: No, not at all. I think in general Laurie is a good character but it takes him a while to get to be a great character. They all got flaws. He seems to be the one that really stands out to the point of  "okay that´s very problematic dude". During this day and age if you did at least one of those things that Laurie did a girl would be like "just dump him girl, don´t even bother" you know, but like you said they don´t put focus on that and I think it is a shame because when he does propose to Jo, when they portray his heartbreak it is like "oh poor Laurie" but it´s not really "poor Laurie" because you´v had so many signs leading up to Jo being like I can´t or I wont because you clearly did´t catch the hint before. I´v seen some people who have said "Jo was so mean to him during the proposal" not for nothing but would´t you be too after all those year him trying to flirt with you and trying to kiss you and whatever else and you try to say in a nicest way "no" and you just get so fed up with it. I don´t blame her at all.

Niina: In the book the reason why Jo goes to New York is because Laurie is harassing her. Christina: Yes and that is what I was going to say that I hate when the movies do the proposal before New York because it seems like she is just trying to walk away from heartbreak "Oh I can´t watch poor Laurie be sad" no she left before the proposal happened because she wants to get away from him, so that way he can be like, just take time, maybe after some time away you can figure that you don´t really care for me as much as you think you do and that´s why when she comes back she is like "you know what, I´m done".

#little women #little women podcast #podcasting #jo march #marriage #louisa may alcott #jo and friedrich #friedrich bhaer #greta gerwig #anti greta gerwig #anti little women 2019 #anti jo and laurie #little women 2019

[pandoras-princess]

Next Best Thing (Tommy Shelby x fem!reader, John Shelby x fem!reader)

*gif not mine//credit to owner

A/N: Hello my lovelies! 🌸 Welcome to my first ever Peaky Blinders fic, I wrote it ages ago and have just edited it slightly so my apologies if the quality isn’t greaaat but the other parts will be better I promise! 😅 This is an AU fanfic where John never married Martha or had kids before he married Esme and there is no Grace for Tommy andddd the timeline is absolutely wack, I know it’s a lot so if you’re in the market for a traditional by the book Peaky Blinders fic this one is not for you I’m afraid 🤗 also if you’re finding it a bit slow I advise you to hang in there until after the time skip because that’s the better half of this part in my opinion, nevertheless I seriously enjoyed writing this so Happy Reading Peoples! 🥳🥳 as ever I appreciate every like, reblog and follow, feedback is forever welcome 😌

Summary:  Being the bestfriend of Jonathan Shelby meant that you’d grown up attached at the hip. And considering you were hopelessly in love with him, life was eventful to say the least. With John marrying Esme you decide it’s high time you got over him. And as they say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else...

Pairing: (OOC) Thomas Shelby x fem!reader, John Shelby x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, smoking and drinking, mentions of addiction, mentions of sex but no smut I’m afraid

PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR

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Being John Shelby's best friend was definitely not an easy job.

You and John were the exact same age, born on the same day of the same month of the same year, precisely one hour and eleven minutes apart, and since your family only lived one house away from the Shelby's it was a given that you and John would grow up to be best friends.

You were as good as family to them, so when your father was killed in the war and your mother unable to cope turned to the drink and drugs, you were left officially orphaned at age 10 and Polly arranged for you to live with them, raising you as her own.

Growing up with the Shelby's came with it's challenges. They were all fiercely protective of you but no one more so than John. When you were kids he'd beat up anyone that dare made you cry, or sad or angry or anything other than happy really, and as you grew older and began to date he'd scare away anyone deemed not up to scratch, which seemed to be pretty much all of them, threatening violence known around Small Heath as common behaviour for the Peaky Blinders. This meant that you never really had a boyfriend, or many boys interested in you at all for that matter, and any who were rarely had the balls to act on it for fear of the Peaky Blinders wrath. However this didn't bother you much as there was only ever one boy you truly wanted interested in you, the one boy who never would be interested in you.

Of course being a teenage girl you'd had your silly crushes, Tommy being one of them. But they all paled in comparison to what you felt for John.

Being best friends meant that the two of you spent practically all of your time together, did everything together, went through and dealt with everything together. He had always been your shoulder to cry on, your ear to bend, your hugs and smiles and laughs, your safe place. It was inevitable that you'd fall for him. And fall for him you did, painfully obvious to everyone except John himself.

Shortly after your 16th birthday, you were reading a book by the fire, a woven blanket strewn across your legs and a steaming mug of hot chocolate warming your hands when John bursts into the house loud, drunk and jolly. He often snuck out to join his brothers in their shenanigans - whether it be business or pleasure - and you were all too happy to listen to his stories when he came home.

You watched John intently as he regaled to you his latest night out. You watched the corners of his mouth twitch ever so slightly as he spoke, a smug smile tracing his lips every so often. His eyes glistened from the whiskey and his lips were wet. A cigarette clasped lazily between his fingers, his eyes closed for a split second whenever he took a drag. Deep in admiration of the boy sitting in front of you, you didn't quite notice the change of events in the story.

"-and then she walked right up to me and kissed me!"

It was at that point that your attention snapped back, ears pricking up and heart racing as you go over what he'd just said. But too excited to wait, John didn't give you the chance to work out if you had misheard him.

"Well before I know it she's got me in the back alley dress hiked up going at me like a feral she was. Can ya believe it after all this time I'm finally a man aha!" John exclaims, a goofy, ear-splitting grin plastered on his face.

He spares any explicit details, knowing it was no way to talk with a lady no matter how close they are to you or how drunk you may happen to be. Nevertheless, upon hearing those final words coupled with the look of pure elation on his face, your heart shatters into millions of ice cold shards right before your eyes. The pain that was rapidly building in your chest and the image of John with some tart, skirt bunched around her waist fucking like dogs in the alley was too much for you to bear. A wave of nausea washes over you and you stand abruptly, dashing to the loo before the contents of your stomach emptied onto the carpet.

A few minutes later you hear faint knocks on the door.

“Ye alright in there love?” John asks, concern lacing his words.

“All good” you reply quickly, willing your voice to steady itself.

Wiping the sheen of sweat from your forehead you collapse into a heap against the wall, and a sigh escapes your lips as you wrack your brain for the exact moment you had lost him. While John had never shown any signs of liking you, you were always able to draw hope from the relationship you two had, no matter how blind it may have been. Now though, he had dashed that hope, blind or otherwise, as he had given himself to someone else. He had openly chosen not to be with you.

Not to be yours.

Fobbing John off with some excuse about a dodgy dinner you quickly retreat to bed, going without giving him a hug, unable to bring yourself to touch him. And from that day onwards you lived with the knowledge that your love was unrequited. You lived with loving him, and him not loving you.

For the most part it was rather easy. John wasn't the kind for serious relationships - preferring causal sex to the committed kind - so you never really had to deal with any girlfriends or the lark, just the occasional tart interested in him on the rare nights out you tagged along. Even then, you soon learned not to go on any nights out without Ava or Polly present and so the issue of John and his women quickly became dormant. That was, however, until John agreed to marry Esme Lee.

Tommy came to you before asking John, asking for your help in convincing him. He knew John would come to you with it asking for advice before deciding. Tommy explained his plan, marry John off to the Lee girl forcing them to squash the war and join forces to overthrow Billy Kimber. It was simple enough and since you'd already accepted there was never to be a you and John, you agreed.

The time came and sure enough John came to you, confused and somewhat annoyed at Tommy's rough handed approach, and sure enough you stayed true to your word, telling him it was nothing new, people had arranged marriages all the time.

So on he went to marry her, your true feelings unknown to the man.

[2 years later]

"You shouldn't be working here you know. John certainly wouldn't like it" Tommy said, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched you carefully wipe down the bar surface. He was referring to your new job as barmaid in the Garrison and having just finished your first shift you were cleaning up. Last orders had been and gone and every punter had now left the pub, drunk and merry on their ways.

After John married Esme you spent the next two years much to yourself. You embraced the spinster lifestyle and faded away into the passing days. However it was the turn of a new year and to everyone's joy you'd come to your senses, deciding it was high time you stopped wasting your life moping after John. He didn't love you - that much was clear - but somebody out there must and so it was time for you to move on, you thought. Reinvent yourself. This 'new you' started with marching into Tommy's office and demanding the new barmaid job. Surprisingly he offered no resistance, merely a quizzical look at your sudden determination before giving you the job. So here you were, your first shift done and nobody left in the place but you and your new boss.

"Well it might surprise you to know, Mr Shelby, but I don't abide my decisions by what John would or would not like me doing" you reply. Finishing up you leave the cloth on the bar and make your way over to the table, taking the chair adjacent to his.

"Is that so?" He asks, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours as he offers you a cigarette. You accept, bending down slightly to the offered flame and without breaking eye contact, you light the cigarette and take a drag, exhaling as you sit back up.

"Yes, Thomas, that is so" you reply, the use of his name making clear your exasperation with the questioning.

"Very well then, a toast-" he picks up the bottle of whiskey and pours some into each glass, placing one in front of you and taking one himself "-to your new job, and to your new found freedom" he says, locking eyes with you on his last words and clinking your glass before you both down it. If growing up with the Shelby's had taught you one thing it was how to hold your liquor.

Soon you and Tommy were halfway through the bottle and quite drunk, too caught up in the fun to notice. It was now something past 3 in the morning; you and Tommy had been talking, drinking and laughing for nigh on 3 hours now, going through old stories of your childhoods, stories from before you were born and from afterwards, stories of your parents and stories of his.

"So tell me, what is the meaning behind this sudden change in you then?" Tommy inquired, only too happy to see your old self back again.

Before you knew it the whiskey had gotten the better of you and you found yourself telling him the reason. You told him about John, about your love for him, about that night and about how you'd come to terms with it and decided to move on.

"Besides, it's not like he was the first boy I ever liked, so I'm quite sure he won't be the last" you state matter of factly, unaware of the storm you had just brewed.

See, unbeknown to you, Tommy was fully aware of everything you had just poured out to him. He knew about your love for John. He knew the deepest parts of your heart, your mind, your soul. Every crush and fling you'd ever experienced Tommy knew all about it, thanks to a little book you liked to keep hidden under your mattress. You had been detailing all matters of yourself in that little black journal for as long as you could write. Polly happily replacing it when you found your current one full, it was much easier than finding a shoulder to cry on every time you needed one. When Tommy came across it he had no idea what it was, merely out of curiosity did he open it and start reading.

"Oh, who was?" Tommy asked, lighting another cigarette. Following suit you decide to take a minute to weigh up your options, drinking in the smoke as you did.

"You” your voice remains deceptively steady, not wanting the man watching you so closely, so attentively, to become aware of the raging swarm of butterflies occupying your stomach.

"Is that so?" Tommy pulls on his own cigarette, the smoke rising from his lips as his eyes lock onto yours. "So what changed then?" His eyebrow arches perfectly, a smirk gracing his lips.

"You're 4 years older than me! There was no way you'd ever look at me as anything other than an annoying little sister!” You say in a chuckle, the fiery whiskey encompassing all of your thoughts in a humorous glow.

"And if I told you I do look at you as something other than an annoying little sister?" His eyes flick to your lips for a millisecond before returning to your own (E/C) orbs. If you’d have blinked you would’ve missed it, but your full attention being fixed on the man before you meant that you hadn’t.

"Well... that would certainly change things." The possibility of one of your fantasy's coming true ignited you to your very core.

Silently, Tom rises from his seat and offers his hand to you. You take it, and he leads you to his office with the worst of intentions in mind.

#by order of the peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #john shelby #john shelby x reader #polly shelby #arthur shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #x reader #fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #peaky blinders oneshot #tommy shelby oneshot #john shelby oneshot #john shelby imagine

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I was sick yesterday and looking at screens hurt my eyes, so I read all of Katherine Ryan’s book, The Audacity, in one day. It was a well written book and I’m glad I read it. Provides really interesting context to a lot of the stuff I’ve seen Katherine Ryan talk about on TV. Gave me a slightly better idea of where the line between the person and the TV character lies. I’m just going to ramble about it aimlessly for a while, so I’ll put it behind a “keep reading” link.

The childhood stuff was cool, not least because I’ve read a few of these Britcom memoirs now and find it interesting to read about what it’s like growing up in Britain, but in this one I enjoyed reading about someone whose cultural experiences were a little closer to my own. I mean, there were many differences in our upbringings and everything, but it was sort of cool to see this person who’s such an entrenched part of Britcom today talk about going to a high school that was governed by the same school board as mine. Going to a university that some of my friends have attended and where I’ve been to both compete and coach at tournaments.

There was one weirdly specific thing that I found funny to read about. She wrote about doing her first ever stand-up gig, at an amateur night at her nearest branch of a Canada-wide chain of comedy clubs. She described the process of getting on the list when she had no experience or clout from which to actually get booked – she had to leave a voice message with her own name at a particular number in a particular timeframe, and then call that number the next day to hear a recording of what names had been picked go on at the next week’s amateur night. It’s basically like the luck of a radio call-in show – you leave your message, you hope your name get picked, and if it doesn’t then you try again next week.

That was cool to read because about twelve years ago I helped my brother look up that process to do the same thing with our nearest branch of that same Comedy Club chain, and then I waited with him while he made both those phone calls. Like Katherine, he got lucky on his first try and got right on the list. I’ve recently found a video of the five-minute set my then-sixteen-year-old brother did twelve years ago at his first gig, which I took on my phone at the time because I was the only person who went to see him, because I was the only person who knew he was doing it, because he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of anyone else in case it went badly. I was really excited for him at the time and told him he did amazingly well, which he did considering his age and experience, but I recently re-watched that video and am pleased to say if I ever need to blackmail him I know what to use.

Katherine Ryan described the journey from the first awkward amateur gig, to doing that phone call thing more times and getting more amateur gigs, until people had seen enough of her to put her in some amateur competitions, and doing well in those led to some slots at pro-am night, opening for established comedians. That was also cool, because it was the exact trajectory my brother followed, down to Katherine mentioning that amateur nights were Mondays and pro-am nights were Wednesdays, which I remember was true when my brother did it as well. I know this because I was a very supportive sister, went to see him a lot in those first few months when he did all those amateur sets. A very supportive and protective older sister. I once literally cracked my knuckles at some drunk women outside the comedy club after the show, when they went up to him and asked, “Are you really sixteen?”, because he’d made jokes in his show about how young he was. I said yes he fucking was really sixteen and then I glared at them until they went away. I hadn’t even realized I’d been cracking my knuckles until my brother pointed that out to me later. I’d have been unconsciously doing it as more of an anxiety response than anything else, but apparently it made the point.

Obviously Katherine Ryan and my brother ended up in very, very different places. My brother went along that trajectory, into getting professional slots at pro-am nights, then performing at pro nights, then middling then headlining, then doing the same thing in other clubs, and now sometimes travelling to comedy clubs in nearby cities to do the same thing there. Katherine Ryan described some of that trajectory in the book, said she got some pro spots at that Canadian comedy club and did a bit of traveling to open for other comedians, but then she moved to England became an international television star. And rightly so – I’ve seen a lot of Katherine Ryan’s stand-up and a lot of my brother’s stand-up, and hers is, you know, better. Just goes to show that occasionally meritocracy wins out. The only thing he has in common with her, besides the way they both got started, is I bet my brother would get along well with Jimmy Carr. That statement is not meant as a compliment, to my brother, Jimmy Carr, or for that matter Katherine Ryan. I like Katherine Ryan, but I don’t like everything about her.

Anyway, it’s cool to see that’s where she came from. A cool look at the fact that those Britcom people do technically live in the same universe as I do and are the same species of human, not engineered with a magical celebrity gene. Change my experiences by a few years and a few hundred kilometres, and I could have seen Katherine Ryan perform before or after my brother (specifically, it would have been after my brother, due to aforementioned better-ness) at all those amateur and pro-am nights when I went to see him. Same world, same process.

It was also interesting to see what she wrote about the differences in the comedy scenes from Canada to Britain. How Britain had the panel show circuit that doesn’t exist here, and that created a whole new set of rungs on the ladder for people working their way up in comedy. How British comedians had to know about different subjects, and she had to catch up on British culture and media when she moved there, so she could make and understand references to fit in on British television.

The stuff about how she got into comedy was a really cool link between Britcom and what I see around me as “the real world” (yes I realize Britain is also in the real world, but there’s a difference between knowing something and seeing it). But growing up in the same place and starting in the same chain of clubs where I’ve watched comedy is where the similarities end. I ordered Jon Richardson’s book online the other day, and thought about how all reviews suggest to me I will strongly relate to it, and of the thoughts I had was that this says something about me specifically, but isn’t that specific. There are lots of shared, fundamental experiences about being human. I’m sure most people can read most autobiographies and relate to some of the sentiments and psychological experiences within them, even if we’ve physically lived very different lives.

Well, Katherine Ryan’s book reminded me that people’s fundamental natures can actually be wildly different from each other, and there isn’t a baseline level of relatability that most people will have to most autobiographical books. I’m sure there are lots of people who’d relate to Katherine Ryan’s experiences from when she was growing up, but I have rarely related to anything less. And that made it interesting to me. I love reading books by and about people I relate to, but I also find it interesting, from a psychological perspective and just from the perspective of someone who wants to understand other people, to read about the inner narrative of someone who is not like me at all.

I wouldn’t have liked Katherine Ryan in high school. This is because I was well into my teens before I started getting over the chip on my shoulder about the appropriately feminine girls who tried to look like the celebrity women from magazines. I didn’t know how to do any of that, but more importantly, I didn’t want to do any of that. And I put misplaced blame on the girls who did do those things, for the pressure I felt to be more like them. I thought if they’d all stop wearing makeup and fashionable clothes and having pretty painted nails and wearing short shorts that showed off perfectly shaved legs (I tried shaving my legs for about two weeks as a teenager, and then I gave up and just never wore shorts again because I knew my unshaven female legs were wrong but I couldn’t bring myself to do the proper feminizing thing and figure out how to fix them) and spending so much time trying to impress boys, then people would stop expecting it from me, just because I was also a girl. I was near-ish to the end of high school when I started getting into feminist blogs and learning about the concepts of “feminism means respecting other women’s personal choices about their own personal lives” and “pitting feminine women and gender non-conforming women against each other is the opposite of feminism”.

So I think I’d have come around Katherine Ryan before I finished high school. But I certainly wouldn’t have liked her in middle school, or those earlier years. In my defense, she wouldn’t have liked me much either. In her book she said she disliked sharing her high school with athletes and with quiet girls, and I was both of those things. Her and I would not have been a match.

It is genuinely interesting to read something from the perspective of someone who was one of those feminine teenage girls, those girls I found so threatening and strange, and felt so much resentment and jealousy toward them (not jealous because I wanted to be feminine like them, but because I wanted the type of girl I was to be seen as “acceptable” the way I thought they were). And it is a fairly close comparison, because Katherine Ryan was one of those girls in her own high school just a few years before I was a teenager who went to school with girls like that, just a few hundred kilometres away.

She wrote about reading magazines and wanting to be like the women in them, just because she thought it was cool. That’s interesting to me. I’ve heard the narrative that teenage girls in the 80s/90s/early 00s (I cut it off at this time because the internet changed the game at that point, fashion and celebrity magazines no longer determined the culture to the same degree) read magazines and thought Jessica Simpson or whatever was how women were supposed to be, and this destroyed their self-esteem, making them think they weren’t good enough, so they had to wear makeup and get plastic surgery to fix that.

Katherine Ryan’s description, as someone who was one of those teenage girls, frames it in a more positive light, which is something I hadn’t thought of before. Saw those women in magazines, thought they were awesome, tried to look like them because it would be awesome. My instinct is to judge that. When I was a teenager, I rolled my eyes at the women in those magazines and judged anyone who had any other reaction to them. But I also thought Joan Jett was the coolest woman in the world and looking like her would be awesome. I didn’t make any effort to look like her; I wore oversized jeans and oversized t-shirts and sweaters and running shoes and that was it. But when I was twenty, I got a leather jacket that I thought was the coolest fucking thing ever, due to its similarity to something Joan Jett would wear, and I treasure to this day. So I can understand the concept of seeing someone and saying “Oh cool, it would be fun to look like that cool.” It’s not inherently worse to think the same thing about Jessica Simpson or anyone else.

Katherine Ryan seems to have had a good time while trying to look like women in magazines. She describes the experience as fun and experimental, in quite a contrast to the narrative of “those magazines destroy girls’ self-esteem and generally ruin them”. I’m sure lots of girls have had a good time while doing that. I’m sure lots of girls have also had bad experiences in an effort to make this happen, including Katherine Ryan (she describes getting some painful plastic surgery from a disreputable place, among other things), but lots of things bring some bad experiences. Doesn’t mean they’re all bad.

There were other parts of the book to which I don’t have any similar experiences, like being in serious romantic relationships (I mean, I’ve been in a couple of romantic relationships and I’m in one now, but not remotely comparable to the sorts of relationships she described), and being a parent. These were interesting to read about, as someone who hasn’t done those things but is interested in understanding people who have. The parenting bit was especially cool because Katherine Ryan has clearly done that in a pretty uncommon way, but one that’s worked very well. She seems to be a very good mother, and I enjoyed reading how much care and love goes into that.

Anyway, I’ve been rambling for a while now, and don’t have a lot more to add. I read the whole book in one go so there were a lot of thoughts about it that had built up. So I have written some of the main ones in a Word document and will now copy it into a post. To be honest, I have a few more thoughts about parts of the book I didn’t like: when she said that things I disagreed with and thought were short-sighted analyses of larger situations, and made choices that I don’t think are great (such as “I got into a fun argument with a guy in which I was telling him trans rights are important and he laughed at me for being such a silly SJW about it because he’s a right-wing libertarian, then we both laughed about how we can have these fun discussions together, then I married him”). But I’m not going to go on too much about those.

Overall, the book was good. Not the very best of these Britcom autobiographies I’ve read, but definitely interesting. Combined personal memories with opinions, and a sprinkling of tying them to larger issues. Described her own situation as both part of the #WomenInComedy experience and as just a person trying to make a career. Gave context that will add a few layers to the things she says on television. It was also a fairly quick and easy read. And it ripped off the title of Obama’s book (I assume her book being called “That Audacity” is an intentional reference to Barak Obama’s book, “That Audacity of Hope”), which is an incredibly audacious thing to do, in keeping with her theme. Good for her.

[mysoftboybensolo]

The Alienist and the Soprano

Chapter 6: The Disturbance

A/N:  This was inspired by Laszlo’s love of opera and my thought on what if he fell for an opera singer. Multi chapter. Canon divergence, there is no Mary Palmer here (I loved Mary and Laszlo, so I don’t feel like I could have her here and have him be with another woman). A mix of show and book canons. No Y/N, OC named Evelina Lind.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029150

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem OC!

Summary: The last thing Laszlo Kreizler ever expected while investigating the death of children was to fall in love, and with an opera singer no less!

Warnings: Age gap, a child is harmed, creepy break in of apartment.

Special shout out to @arizemo​​ for giving me encouragement to continue to write when I felt like giving up. You were the best and this is dedicated to you, even though I know you haven’t seen the show.

The sky didn’t look as promising as Laszlo had hoped, and was grateful that one of the staff members insisted that he’d bring an umbrella just in case, but he could swear that when he saw Evelina, the day seemed brighter and to him, there weren’t any clouds. “Good morning, Miss Lind. I trust you had a good night’s rest?”

“I did, thank you. I have not had the pleasure of walking this park yet, thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course, shall we?” He asked, gesturing with his umbrella, making her chuckle. For a while, they walked side by side, exchanging pleasantries, Laszlo pointing out the different birds, even the ones he couldn’t see but only hear.

“My goodness, you do know everything!” she laughed.

“When I was in college, I studied ornithology first, not quite sure what I had wanted to do, but then I had come to realize that psychology was even more fascinating to me. That was when I had met Moore and Roosevelt, I suppose they are the longest kept friends I have. This was in ‘77, so nearly twenty years.” He faltered for a moment, then said, “That must make me sound very old, doesn’t it?”

“Old? Nonsense, age was what you feel. Do you feel old? You don’t look it, if I may say. You are lean and fit, and you keep yourself in good condition.”

“I’m middle aged, Miss Lind.”

“Silly word. You are a man of the hills.”

“You may tease me as much as you wish, but I cannot help my age.”

“Your age?” she asked, surprised. “I never dreamed-” she stopped herself. I never dreamed that you’d ever think yourself as old, was what she would have said, but she saw the shadow in his eyes and decided to not further probe the topic. “You know,” she says, “It has come to my attention, that you still refer to me as Miss Lind. I believe we have come to know each other long enough to move past formality. Don’t you think?”

He paused to think and realized that she was right. They have known each other for a little over a month, and certainly their introduction was under a certain case of duress that helped bring them closer together. “I-I suppose so. It would be nice to hear you call me by chosen name.”

“Very well, Laszlo.”

Oh God, he thinks, how wonderful it sounds! As they walked, they passed a pair of ladies who stared at them with contempt and made a gesture of turning their noses at them, silently but effectively showing their distain for the pair.

“Do you think that was for me?” Evelina asked, trying to keep her voice light, though she was hurt by the gesture.

“I am certain that was for me. I am not the most well-liked man, and my profession is as frown upon as…” he paused, fearful he’d offend her.

Evelina smiled and nodded understanding. “As an opera singer. It’s alright, it can be said. A month ago, I had difficulty bearing the judging stares and snide comments, but I like to think I developed a thicker skin to bear it, even though it still hurts. I am sure they don’t bother you anymore, the comments on your profession I mean.”

He stopped completely then says, “Evelina, this is wrong.”

She looks at him incredulous. “What is?”

“That I should take up the time and friendship of…of someone so young and good as you.”

She sighed and grinned. “Oh, Laszlo, I am so glad I’ve met you.”

Now he looked at her incredulously. “But why?”

“Well, that’s just it. I am not sure why. I never met anyone that surprises me as much as you do, and yet, someone that I feel I truly understand. And the young ones are so boring. I am never bored with you!”

He huffed out a smile, shaking his head. “I didn’t think I was at all interesting.”

“Of course, you are! You put on this air of being steely cold and distant, but really, you are gentle and kind, and warm.”

“Do not be mistaken, I am nothing more than a cold, aging alienist.”

She shakes her head. “That’s what you try to make people think. And I know why. I may not know the details, but I know you did not have a happy childhood, and it made you feel as though you had to protect yourself from the hurt, but it also stops you from the joy you want.” Looking down at her gloved hands, which fiddled for a moment, she said looking back up, “Now, I told you why I like you, it’s your turn to say what you like about me. You do like me, don’t you?” She asks, her voice soft as she hoped she wasn’t wrong.

He speaks not a moment, then says, “Yes, I like you, very much. I like…that I feel safe with you. It’s a feeling I’ve not had much in my life. You make me think and smile, and, want to live.”

Evelina smiled and her eyes tender. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Laszlo.”

“And I-I’ve never met anyone quite like you.” He feels his heart race at her words, those blue eyes filled with an emotion that no one ever gave him before, and it filled him with many different emotions.

“Laszlo?” A voice breaks the moment, making Evelina and Laszlo turn to see where the voice came from. Approaching them were two young men, one tall and slim with a cheery disposition and the other a few inches shorter and sturdier with glasses. “Laszlo, we may have a lead!” spoke the sturdier man, who sounded quite excited.

“Oh, forgive us,” the slimmer man said, “We hadn’t meant to intrude.”

“Gentleman allow me to introduce to you, Miss Evelina Lind. Evelina, this is Marcus and Lucius Isaacson, they have been working with John, Sara and I on investigations.” Laszlo introduced them, pointing out to Evelina which man was who.

“Oh, yes, I do remember you. I recall Laszlo mentioning the both of you.”

“Likewise, Miss Lind. In fact,” Lucius spoke with a smile, “Laszlo has spoken of you on many occasions. It almost feels as if we know you.” Marcus gave a small but clear jab in the rib, making Lucius look at him in confusion.

Evelina blushed, pleased at the thought of Laszlo speaking of her to others. “Uh, yes, well,” Laszlo intervened, “Follow the lead and when we meet tonight, we’ll go over it. Good day,” his tone of voice may have been a bit curt, but it was understandable.

Marcus nodded and bid the pair a good day before guiding his brother away, trying to explain to him what it was they had interrupted.

Evelina felt her cheeks grow warm at the idea that she was talked of by Laszlo, that other people have heard him speak of her, she wasn’t just some secret friend he didn’t wish to be associated with. The soft rumble of thunder made them both look up at the gray sky and with a few drops falling, Laszlo opened his umbrella and held it over them both. Without thinking, Evelina had slipped her arm around his, allowing her to be sheltered more from the rain.

Laszlo gulped. Yes, he had escorted her a few times, he even escorted Sara, but how close her body was pressed to his side, the scent of rose and iris filling his nose, it made Laszlo feel like a schoolboy in the throes of his first crush. “Um,” he cleared his throat, “I should take you back home.”

As much as she was disappointed that the walk was cut short by the rain, she was pleased at the progress they had made. She felt certain that now with formalities pushed aside and the sharing of first names would lead to the next big step. But still, she was not certain. Did he just humor her since he had saved her and thought that she was a lonesome young woman, or did he have the same feelings as she did? His attitude at times made it difficult for her to decipher, but she wasn’t one to give up.

Reaching back her place, Evelina thanked him, and both felt the absence when her arm slipped away from his. But he had to return to the institute, and she had to be ready for rehearsals tomorrow.

Laszlo hurried back to the institute, and once he had returned, he noticed a group of children sitting on the floor along the wall, looking rather glum. “Oh, now why the long faces?”

“We were going to play outside, but then it began to rain, and sadly the children were very eager to go out,” Mrs. Gorenko, one of the teachers, explained to the doctor, helping him with his coat.

“Well, we can’t have disappointed children. I am sure that the great hall can be a perfect substitute.”

He smiled when he saw the children brighten up and exclaimed in excitement as they were led to the great hall to play. And as he returned to his office, he allowed the good mood to overcome him and he now smiled because of Miss Lind, or rather, Evelina. To say her name aloud was as much of a pleasure as it was for him to hear his name on her lips. Perhaps, he thinks, perhaps it is as he could hope it to be.

His mood was so high that he thought nothing could spoil this feeling, but a sudden crash and sound of children screaming broke his dreams. He got up and ran towards the sound, leading him to the great hall where children huddled in a corner, having been led there by Mrs. Gorenko.

He looked over and found Mrs. Gorenko knelt beside a crying child, his leg bleeding. Rushing over and falling to his knees, he looked at the child. “What happened?”

“I am not sure, doctor. We were doing our morning exercise, then suddenly, the window broke, and something flew into the room. Alastair tripped and his leg landed on the glass.”

“Check on the children, I’ve got him.” Mrs. Gorenko went to the other children, looking over them, while Laszlo examined the little boy’s leg. Alastair was only eight, smaller than the other boys, and it broke Laszlo’s heart to see him sobbing and shaking with fear. Other members of the staff came rushing in, wondering what the commotion was and came to help. Two of the nurses rushed over to Laszlo and they carefully carried the boy, rushing to the ward. “Get to work on his leg, he may need stitches,” he softly tells one of the nurses as he got up from the floor.

He went over and looked down at the little ones huddled, many of whom were crying, frighten by the disturbance. “Is everyone alright?” he asked gently and gave a quick scan over their persons. “Take them to their dormitories, no more lessons today for them, they’d have quite a shock as it is.”

Once alone, he inspects the window, followed the broken glass to where a large rock sat. Picking it up, he saw that tied around it was coarse yarn and a folded up piece of paper. He managed to slip the note out without tearing then opened it. The words sent a shiver up his spine.

I have my eye on you, Dr. Kreizler

John never got word from Laszlo to hurry due to great urgency, so when he arrived back home and received the message, he was quick to hurry right back out, despite his grandmother calling for him. He was led by one of the nurses to the big hall and his heart dropped to his stomach to see the sight. “Good God, Laszlo, what happened?”

Laszlo, who had been pacing back and forth, the look that John has seen many times of contained fury, and he knew it could not be good. “Someone threw a rock through my window, with this note attached.” He gestured to the note in his hands, stopped only to give it to John.

John read the note and he too felt his blood run cold. “Do you think it is the killer?”

“Who else? We must be getting close, if he could do such a thing. We need to get him before anything else happens.”

“Are the children alright?”

“Yes, for now. But,” his voice began to rise, “He intruded in their sanctuary. How am I supposed to explain to the children, that the one place they thought they were safe is no longer the haven they were promised? How can I take care of them if I can’t protect them from people like this?”

“We will catch this man, Laszlo, and all will be well.”

“You don’t get it, do you John?” Laszlo stopped pacing, yelling, “They came after my children! One of them got hurt, he may need stitches! What if the rock hit and killed one of them? My children were put in danger John, my children!” His voice cracked at the last words, forcing him to turn away from his friend.

John rarely ever saw Laszlo express an emotion that came from a place of caring, and it broke him to see how upset Laszlo was when a threat came to close, not to him, but to those he cares for deeply. John stepped up and placed a hand on Laszlo’s shoulder, gently, comforting. “We will get him, Laszlo. We will protect your children. I promise.” As much as Laszlo was touched by John's willingness to help, it did not ease his fears or disturbance.

But Laszlo was not the only one to be disturbed.

Going up the stairs to her room, Evelina hummed softly, thinking of the way he said her name, and stopped completely when she saw her door slightly opened. Her blood ran cold, and she carefully kicked the door open, but found no one there. Evelina looked about her room, nothing valuable was taken, but what sent a wave of fear over her was that her dresser drawer was open, and a pair of her knickers was missing. Her heart began to beat furiously and without thinking, she rushed out of the building and went to the first person she thought of.

Sara was shocked to say the least when she saw Evelina standing at his door, looking half out of her wits, desperate. “Evelina. What on earth?”

“I need help.”

She let her in and brought her to the drawing room, offering a whiskey, not thinking of how most women wouldn’t drink it. But Evelina gladly accepted it, downing the whole of it. “Are you alright? What happened?”

“My apartment has been broken into.”

“Oh my.” Sara sat beside her, offered a comforting hand. “Did they take anything valuable?”

“No,” Evelina said, and at first she hesitated, unsure if she should mention it, but then said, “They…they took a pair of my knickers.”

Sara stiffened, feeling shocked and a second hand fear. “What compels a man do to something so disturbing? Thank goodness you were not there, and that no one else was harmed.”

Evelina nodded, agreeing, but still shook. “I do not feel safe staying there. I am not sure what to do or where to go. Forgive me if I am a burden, but you were the first thought of when remembering our first conversation.”

“Not at all. I am glad you came to me.” Sara thought for a moment, then said, “If I came with you to your apartment to collect your things, would that make you feel better?”

“To collect my things?”

“Well of course. I can’t imagine you’d want to stay there much longer, so we shall have all your things brought here.”

Realizing what she meant, Evelina immediately began to protest. “Oh, I couldn’t dare ask. It is too much.”

“Nonsense. Even if you did feel comfortable staying, I wouldn’t feel right with sending you back alone. You shall stay with me for as long as you wish.”

Evelina’s eyes watered and she reached over to hug Sara, who at first was taken aback by the gesture, but welcomed it as she figured that Evelina was in need of comfort. “Thank you so much. I’ll pay you back,” she said, pulling away, “Whatever you’d like. I am not afraid of pulling my weight around here.”

“Really, it is alright. If the situation was reversed, I am sure you’d do the same. Now,” Sara stood, “Let us go and get your belongings.”

It was short work as Evelina did not have much, but Sara looked around the room, searching for clues, for anything to give a clue to who would do this. Whoever it was, knew how to return everything back to where things were, so he was smarter than your usual criminal. The sooner she’d get her away from this place, the better. Sara’s footman helped carry the trunk into the house and Sara brought her to the guest room. “You are free to stay as long as you wish. And I promise, I shall do what I may to figure out who did this.”

“No!” She quickly said, but then tried to explain, “I couldn’t drag you into this. What if this perpetrator is mad, a violent criminal?’

“It will take more than a pervert to stop me from helping you. Truly. And after all, if I intend to have my own agency to solve crimes, I will need the opportunities.” Taking her hands, she looked Evelina square in the eyes and said, “No woman should ever have to live in fear of being born a woman. And I meant what I said, we women must help each other. I am keeping my promise.” Giving a reassuring squeeze, she released her. “I’ll let you get settled in.” She turned to leave, but then stopped and turned back. “Oh, I nearly forgot. Tonight, a few men will be here to discuss a case.”

“You mean, John and Laszlo?”

“Yes, as well as the Isaacson Brothers. We are trying to solve the case of the murdered children. If you do not feel comfortable with the subject, you do not have to stay.”

“Thank you for the warning. At this point, there is not much I cannot handle.”

Evelina found herself situated perfectly and with enthusiasm hurried to join the gathering. All of them had arrived at the same time and were surprised to see an extra member of the group. “Evelina. You are joining us?” Laszlo asked, surprised.

“Evelina is staying with me indefinitely, so you shall see a great deal of her. And don’t worry John, I’ve already warned her of the nature of this case. No need to defend any ladies’ delicate natures tonight.” She teased, making him flustered. Evelina noticed and smiled, it was not difficult for her to see the attraction between the two.

“I shall get the tea,” Evelina offered, wanting to help as much as she could.

“Any news?” asked Marcus, as the team settled in their seats.

“Perhaps. Earlier today, a rock came hurling through a window of my institute, with this note attached.”

Sara took the note and looked at it. “Do you think he is closing in on us?” she asked as she passed the note along to the brothers.

“Who knows?” Laszlo said, taking the note back from Lucius once he was done examining it, stuffing it in his pocket, “But it unsettles me greatly to think he is close to my children.”

Evelina walked in at the last part and gave a quizzical look as she set the tray down. “Something is wrong with the children?”

“Thankfully no,” Laszlo answered, taking the teacup from her.

“Someone threw a rock through Laszlo’s window, we think it might be the killer,” Lucius filled in.

“No one was hurt, I hope?”

“One, he needed stitches, the others were just frightened, but they should never have been frightened in the first place.  Which is why it is imperative that we close in on this murderer.”

The evening passed in a feverish haze; Lucius and Marcus sharing their lead, everyone eager to work out the possibilities, and Evelina was there, trying to help keep things neat for them to work efficiently. She wished she was cleverer to help in their case, to actually do something worthwhile. But she also knew that any little bit could help them figure out why such a madman would want to hurt children in such a terrible way. Her eyes pricked with tears and she had to turn away at one point to dab her eyes with her handkerchief. At least the end of the evening seemed to be satisfactory enough for everyone had left with newfound hope and eager to start the next day. Laszlo and John were the last to leave. Evelina watched with amusement of how Sara and John danced around their feelings, and she wondered if she and Laszlo looked that way. She did sympathize with John, for he clearly adored Sara and Sara seemed to feel the same, but held incredible restraint from her feelings.

Laszlo didn't talk much around Evelina, as if company made him shy, as if everyone was watching him. But she understood, he no doubt had his mind on the case and he spoke her given name when he bid her goodnight, making her mind settle as she worried she offended him in some way. Both ladies retired for the night, and as Evelina laid down, she tried to wrestle with the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. Will she really be safe with Sara? Should she tell the whole truth of what she knows?

Tagging: @monsieurbruhl​​​ @flutterskies​​​ @sokoviandelights​​​, @cazzyimagines​​​​, @rumblelibrary​​​​, @fictionlandslanddreams​​​​, @violetmuses​​ and @barnesxnobles​​. If anyone else would like to be tagged, please let me know!

#daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #the alienist #laszlo kreizler #fanfiction

[jostepherjoestar]

Can I request giorno meeting his shy half-sister (both of them are related cause DIO) and the two of bond over books.

📚Giorno and his half-sister bonding over books📚

sfw // no pronouns used but implied fem! reader

Thank you so much for requesting this! Sorry if reader turned out a bit more confident, I feel like they’d ease up once Giorno started joking around a bit. Also thank you for being patient 🥺cozy loves yall so much💖✨

“Thank you for taking up the offer; I wasn’t really sure you’d accept…” It felt a bit sheepish, standing there wriggling in your shoes, palms clammy with nervous sweat. Not quite the image you had hoped to convey to your newly found brother at your first meeting.

Well, half brother, actually. You had never even known him to exist, let alone be the head of a criminal organisation that seemed a little less devious than they’d like their reputation to let on. Perhaps it was his influence as their fresh new leader, working towards change, shaping the old crusted traditions into a cornucopia of advancements.

“No need to worry about that. I was surprised myself, I thought I’d never hear from Koichi again.” Giorno chuckled, it sounded so warm, so genuine. It eased up your tense shoulders, letting them fall back down and made you finally release that breath you’d been holding.

“Oh did something happen? He seemed very excited to contact you after he found me.” You admitted, remembering how Koichi’s face lit up when you suggested going to Italy. What a strange boy. You would have never met him, not even crossed paths once, if it weren’t for the research the Speed Wagon Foundation had been conducting.

They’d found out about your mother, the poor woman already passed on, too troubled to recount how she’d met your biological father, fear still striking her feeble heart every time your eyes met hers, a harsh reminder of her encounter with Dio. After some curt phone calls with a polite but coldly professional man named Dr. Kujoh you had learned a little about your father. The few details they provided about him already made your stomach curl in disgust.

That dark lit photograph of him had been etched into your very being but seeing Giorno, his blonde hair so remarkably resembling that of your shared father, seemed to have changed that twisted image. “Hah, I’ll tell you some other time. Come, sit down! I’ll have someone bring us some drinks.” The kindness and passion in his eyes could sway any being.

Giorno’s steel cut resolve soaked into his very core and his surroundings, his office meticulously decorated with tasteful furniture, a cohesive but still inviting nook. It reflected the impression you had of him, welcoming and polite but sure to be careful of his ruthless edge. Perhaps it was a skill you had both inherited from your father, observant eyes that saw everything, even beyond the physical bounds, the very core of others.

As you sat and waited for his colleague to return with drinks you engaged in some small talk, not really sure what the other liked just yet to divulge in further. The air seemed to have thinned, a calmer energy now flowing, a natural one as Giorno’s intent blue stare clung to every little thing you said. A certain proudness in his demeanour when you told him about how good you’d been doing in university and the friends you’d found along the way. His heart could burst at how beautifully mundane your life has been, glad to know you weren’t involved in any risky business that he knew of.

Your eyes landed on the scenery behind him when the conversation reached a lull, a tall bookcase filled to the brim with books reaching all the way to the ceiling, the light wood decorated with beautiful plant like reliefs. Curiously you scanned the spines of the carefully sorted books: Nietzsche, Plato, Descartes, Sartre and even Susan Sontag made her way on the shelves. The wide array varying between philosophy, classic literature, art, mythology and on the bottom row- having to lean forward a little to properly see- revealing a small fiction section.

You quirked an eyebrow at your childhood favourite. “You’ve read The Chronicles of Narnia?!” Your sudden outburst of wonderment infected Giorno, a soft smile gracing his features as he remembered reading them, he wasn’t only a wannabe gangster in his early teens, he loved to read as well.

“Yes I did-” Pausing as he turned to the shelves, fondly giving them a once over before returning his bright eyes to you. “There’s more fiction books, but I try and display the literature more. Can’t have my guests knowing I love Roald Dahl and C.S. Lewis just yet! I have an image to uphold.” He jested, but there was a truth behind his words, knowing he can’t let many others get to know the real Giorno, lest they use it against him. Your smile only grew bigger, chuckling at his banter. For a moment there it felt like you’d known each other far longer, that invisible connection tethering your hearts together.

“I love those books. It kinda feels like home, you know?” You added, smiling down at your hands, the warm ache of nostalgia tugging at your heart. “It does, doesn’t it. A better one perhaps.” Giorno answered in a compassionate tone, knowing just how difficult it must have been to grow up, without even knowing too many details of each others’ upbringings.

Feeling the mood dampen a little but glad your brother shared the sentiment, wracking your mind for a new lighter topic to discuss. Remembering the latest book you’d read for a university class snapped your head up again.

“You’ve read a lot of philosophy-“ You pointed at the multiple rows of authors and great thinkers. “They’re very interesting and all but, have you heard of my recent favourite; Diogenes?” You barely contained your laughter at the strange anecdotes you’d read about the cynic philosopher. Giorno raised a brow, curious to see where this little giggle fit was going. “That guy? Oh yes I have.”

“Did you know he pissed on people that insulted him? What an absolute genius!” You raised your voice and fell into laughter, the joyous sounds escaping Giorno as well, for a moment forgetting all that troubled his mind. “Maybe I should give that tactic a try at meetings.” He pondered, somehow the change in his expression made you believe that he was serious for a second.

“Man is the most intelligent of the animals - and the most silly.” Giorno quoted, the laughter slowly subsiding and that warm feeling of acceptance taking over. You were only looking to getting to know your brother more, gladly offering him a taste of normality in his turbulent life which he greatly appreciated. “Most definitely!” You beamed, feeling relieved at his wit and growing familiarity.

The afternoon flew by, chatting more about the wide array of books, sharing little tidbits and funny stories. Both still not divulging too much about the past or your parents, it would only sour the mood. At the rate you two got along, this definitely wouldn’t be the only meeting you’d have together.

The future looked a little brighter, an airy feeling of solace settling into Don Giovanna’s office, an atmosphere he won’t forget you brought in.  

#cozy request #giorno x reader #NOT INC*ST for the love of all that is good #jjba x reader #jojo x reader #giorno giovanna #jjba fic #giorno sibling #giorno imagine #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #sfw

[politalysis]

# What has happened to JK Rowling?

Growing up in the early 2000s immediately made Harry Potter a huge part of your childhood. Even if you never read the books or watched the films, you can probably name the three main characters. Even if you weren’t interested in Harry Potter in the slightest, you probably know your Hogwarts house. It’s incredible what Harry Potter did for our generation all over the world. Children would stay up on their eleventh birthdays anxiously awaiting a Hogwarts acceptance letter, knowing full well that owl was never going to come. Our imagination kept the dream of going to Hogwarts and learning magic alive anyway. Even now at the age of 23, I can for the most part keep a conversation flowing with anyone who has read the books or even just watched the films. You could even go as far as to say it was our generation’s Lord of the Rings.

JK Rowling came from very humble beginnings. She suffered with depression in her childhood and early teens, and lost her mother to multiple sclerosis in 1990. These struggles inspired her a lot when writing Harry Potter. She channeled her grief and pain into her writing. In 1992, she married a man she had met whilst living in Portugal, but Rowling suffered domestic abuse at his hands and the couple separated a year later. She lost her job and moved to Edinburgh in Scotland, where she had to sign up for welfare benefits, which left her a poor and depressed single mother spending her time writing in coffee shops. When she finished writing Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, twelve publishers rejected the opportunity to publish the book. Once someone finally agreed to publish the book, it became the best selling children’s book of the year.

We all know how the story goes from there. Rowling wrote six more Harry Potter books, eight films were made, and Rowling went from a poor vulnerable single mother to a multi millionaire in the space of a few short years. Harry Potter is now a global brand estimated to be worth about $15 billion. The last four books have each consecutively set the record for the fastest selling book in history. Rowling is now the richest author in the world, with a net worth of $92 million. But as well as money, JK Rowling has over 14 million followers on Twitter. This gives her massive influence as well as money. Rowling seemed to initially use this influence for good, spreading mental health awareness, LGBT inclusivity, interacting with fans and creating a website for all us Harry Potter fans to determine our houses and let our wands choose us.

I remember being 8 years old when Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince was released, and I was attending a religious school where some parents complained and called to ban Harry Potter over the controversial decision JK Rowling made regarding Dumbledore’s sexuality. Rowling had made the claim that Dumbledore was gay. Looking back, the controversy was ridiculous and I can only imagine how embarrassed some of those parents must be. I also remember as I got older, re-reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows I noticed more that the emotion behind Dumbledore’s relationship with Grindelwald was one he held with a romantic love. So years later, when several members of the LGBT community attacked Rowling for only deciding Dumbledore’s sexuality after the books were written, I publicly defended her with my knowledge that that simply wasn’t true. I had this image of Rowling in my mind, that she had always been on the right side of this debate. She had always been inclusive and supportive of LGBT people as far as I could see, and I just didn’t understand the issue. Rowling had always expressed a centre-left political perspective, and although I didn’t agree with all her views, they seemed relatively uncontroversial.

When Harry Potter and the Cursed Child was released, I hated it. It was a literary disaster, completely disrespectful of the original book series, the characters were a shell of the characters we had grown up with, the plot was almost deliberately ridiculous and overly elaborate and I immediately dismissed it as not canon. I have never forgiven JK Rowling for publicly stating the book was canon. She almost destroyed a whole two decades of her own hard work and the franchise that she’d built that had been like a home for a whole generation. All because she wanted to grab a few extra quid for a terrible book she didn’t even write. To this day I can’t help but wonder if she has even read the book. If I had written the masterpiece that is Harry Potter, I would view the Cursed Child as an insult. Perhaps I’ll even write a review one day, just for fun. Rowling also annoyed me by going back on her story, regretting pairing Ron and Hermione together and not pairing Hermione with Harry. Ron and Hermione are my favourite couple from the story, and their relationship had so much meaning. I couldn’t believe that the author who wrote such a clever and consistent relationship between two beloved characters could ever regret it. At this point in my life, I was beginning to wonder if perhaps Rowling was losing her mind. It was almost like she was trying to destroy her legacy.

As more years passed, the Fantastic Beasts films were released. The first film looked promising, but the second film was yet another disaster. Again, it was inconsistent with the franchise as we knew it, for some reason Hogwarts was full of people wearing 3 piece suits instead of the robes they wore in the Harry Potter series and Minerva McGonigall appeared as a teacher despite the fact that canonically there is no way she could have been old enough. The film was a disaster with both fans and critics hating it. Amongst this mess came controversy in December 2019. Rowling lost all respect she had once held amongst the transgender community when she made a public statement supporting Maya Forstater, a British woman who lost her employment tribunal case against her employer who fired her over transphobic comments. Six months later on June 6 2020, Rowling criticised the term “people who menstruate” and stated: "If sex isn’t real, the lived reality of women globally is erased. I know and love trans people, but erasing the concept of sex removes the ability of many to meaningfully discuss their lives." Rowling’s views on these issues were heavily criticised by GLAAD and even by the actors from the Harry Potter movies including lead actors Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson.

Rowling published a 3,600 word essay in response to the mass criticism of her views four days later. The essay did her no favours, as she wrote: “When you throw open the doors of bathrooms and changing rooms to any man who believes or feels he’s a woman then you open the door to any and all men who wish to come inside.” She seemed to be suggesting that trans women are often just men disguised as women in order to trick or even harm other women. This obviously angered the transgender community even more, and women’s refuge shelters that allow trans women were reporting no rise in violence as a result, children’s charities that support gender non conforming children were criticising Rowling, she was being made to give back awards and ultimately Rowling was labelled a Trans exclusionary radical feminist, a term often abbreviated to TERF.

JK Rowling is the perfect example of how money and influence can make someone forget their roots so easily. For someone who survived poverty, domestic abuse and sexual assault, she is so lacking in self awareness and how the things she has said and done can be harmful to transgender people. It is widely reported that transgender women are at more risk of harm in female restrooms than cisgender women. With acceptance becoming the norm, transgender people are feeling more safe to come out now than ever before, and so the rise in numbers of the community is huge, especially amongst our generation who grew up with Harry Potter. For a young transgender teenager to grow up wondering how Hogwarts would accommodate them, only to hear the author who gave us Hogwarts in the first place disapprove of equal rights for transgender people, must be very disheartening. However, JK Rowling has proven that she has no idea how powerful the legacy her books created really is. She was tasked with following up the Harry Potter series, and what she gave us was inconsistent and very poorly written screenplays. I have read better sequels on tumblr. Lots of them. Hogwarts doesn’t belong to JK Rowling, it belongs to the fandom. And I’ll be willing to bet my last penny that if Professor McGonigall witnessed any bullying of transgender students in her classroom (or indeed the girls bathroom!) she’d absolutely defend the victim without a moment’s hesitation. Hermione would decorate the Gryffindor common room with little blue, pink and white flags in support of a transgender first year who’d just been sorted into Gryffindor. Luna Lovegood would sit and befriend any trans student who looked lonely, and Ginny would dish out a bat bogey hex to anyone who dared pick on them. No matter what JK Rowling thinks, Hogwarts is not hers to ruin. It is ours. Regardless of what makes us different, Hogwarts is our home.

#jk rowling #harry potter #hogwarts #gryffindor #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #slytherin #gay dumbledore #trans rights #edinburgh #professor umbridge #fuck rowling #cursed child is not canon #ron and hermione #lgbtq #lgbt representation #writing

[nealiios]

The Supernatural 70s: Part I - Corruption of An Innocent

"We're mutants. There's something wrong with us, something very, very wrong with us. Something seriously wrong with us - we're soldiers writers."

-- with apologies to the screenwriter of "Stripes"

Dear reader, I have the darkest of revelations to make to you, a truth when fully and wholly disclosed shall most assuredly chill you to the bone, a tale that shall make you question all that you hold to be true and good and holy about my personal history. While you may have come in search of that narrative designer best known for his works of interactive high fantasy, you should know that he is also a crafter of a darker art, a scribbler of twisted tales filled with ghosts, and ghouls, and gargoyles. I am, dear innocent, a devotee of horrors! Mwahahahaha!

[cue thunderclap, lightning, pipe organ music]

Given the genre of writing for which most of you know me, I forgive you if you think of me principally as a fantasy writer. I don't object to that classification because I do enjoy mucking about with magic and dark woods and mysterious ancient civilizations. But if you are to truly know who I am as a writer, you must realize that the image I hold of myself is principally as a creator of weird tales.

To understand how and why I came to be drawn to this sub-genre of fantastic fiction, you first must understand that I come from peculiar folks. Maybe I don't have the Ipswich look, or I didn't grow up in a castle, but my pedigree for oddity has been there from the start. My mother was declared dead at birth by her doctor, and often heard voices calling to her in the dead of night that no one else could hear. Her mother would periodically ring us up to discuss events in our lives about which she couldn't possibly have known. My father's people still share ghost stories about a family homestead that burned down mysteriously in the 1960s. Even my older brother has outré memories about events he says cannot possibly be true, and as a kid was kicked off the Tulsa city bookmobile for attempting to check out books about UFOs, bigfoot, and ESP. It's fair to say I was doomed - or destined - for weirdness from the start.

If the above listed circumstances had not been enough, I grew up in an area where neighbors whispered stories about a horrifically deformed Bulldog Man who stalked kids who "parked" on the Old North Road near my house. The state in which I was raised was rife with legends of bigfoots, deer women, and devil men. Even in my childhood household there existed a pantheon of mythological entities invented explicitly to keep me in line. If I was a good boy, The Repairman would leave me little gifts of Hot Wheels cars or candy. If I was being terrible, however, my father would dress in a skeleton costume, rise from the basement and threaten to drag me down into everlasting hellfire (evidently there was a secret portal in our basement.) There were monsters, monsters EVERYWHERE I looked in my childhood world. Given that I was told as a fledgling writer to write what I knew, how could anyone have been surprised that the first stories I wrote were filled with the supernatural?

"The Nightmare" by John Henry Fuseli (1781)

My formative years during the late sixties and early seventies took place at a strange juncture in our American cultural history. At the same time that we were loudly proclaiming the supremacy of scientific thought because we'd landed men on the moon, we were also in the midst of a counter cultural explosion of interest in astrology, witchcraft, ghosts, extra sensory perception, and flying saucers. Occult-related books were flying off the shelves as sales surged by more than 100% between 1966 and 1969. Cultural historians would come to refer to this is as the "occult boom," and its aftershocks would impact popular cultural for decades to come.

My first contact with tales of the supernatural were innocuous, largely sanitized for consumption by children. I vividly remember watching Casper the Friendly Ghost and the Disney version of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow. I read to shreds numerous copies of both Where the Wild Things Are and Gus the Ghost. Likely the most important exposure for me was to the original Scooby Doo, Where Are You? cartoon which attempted to inoculate us from our fears of ghosts and aliens by convincing us that ultimately the monster was always just a bad man in a mask. (It's fascinating to me that modern incarnations of Scooby Doo seem to have completely lost this point and instead make all the monsters real.)

ABOVE: Although the original cartoon Scooby Doo, Where Are You? ran only for one season from 1969 to 1970, it remained in heavy reruns and syndication for decades. It is notable for having been a program that perfectly embodied the conflict between reason and superstition in popular culture, and was originally intended to provide children with critical thinking skills so they would reject the idea of monsters, ghosts, and the like. Ironically, modern takes on Scooby Doo have almost entirely subverted this idea and usually present the culprits of their mysteries as real monsters.

During that same time, television also introduced me to my first onscreen crush in the form of the beautiful and charming Samantha Stevens, a witch who struggles to not to use her powers while married to a frequently intolerant mortal advertising executive in Bewitched. The Munsters and The Addams Family gave me my first taste for "goth" living even before it would become all the rage in the dance clubs of the 1980s. Late night movies on TV would bring all the important horror classics of the past in my living room as Dracula, Frankenstein, the Wolf Man, the Invisible Man, the Phantom of the Opera, The Creature from the Black Lagoon, and Godzilla all became childhood friends. Over time the darkened castles, creaking doors, foggy graveyards, howling wolves, and ever present witches and vampires became so engrained in my psyche that today they remain the "comfort viewing" to which I retreat when I'm sick or in need of other distractions from modern life.

ABOVE: Elizabeth Montgomery starred in Bewitched (1964 - 1972) as Samantha Stephens, a witch who married "mortal" advertising executive Darren Stephens (played for the first five seasons by actor Dick York). Inspired by movies like I Married a Witch (1942) and Bell, Book and Candle (1958), it was a long running series that explored the complex relationship dynamics between those who possess magic and those who don't. Social commentators have referred to it as an allegory both for mixed marriages and also about the challenges faced by minorities, homosexuals, cultural deviants, or generally creative folks in a non heterogeneous community. It was also one of the first American television programs to portray witches not as worshippers of Satan, but simply as a group of people ostracized for their culture and their supernatural skills.

Even before I began elementary school, there was one piece of must-see gothic horror programming that I went out of my way to catch every day. Dark Shadows aired at 3:30 p.m. on our local ABC affiliate in Tulsa, Oklahoma which usually allowed me to catch most of it if I ran home from school (or even more if my mom or brother picked me up.) In theory it was a soap opera, but the show featured a regular parade of supernatural characters and themes. The lead was a 175 year old vampire named Barnabas Collins (played by Johnathan Frid), and the show revolved around his timeless pursuit of his lost love, Josette. It was also a program that regularly dealt with reincarnation, precognition, werewolves, time travel, witchcraft, and other occult themes. Though it regularly provoked criticism from religious groups about its content, it ran from June of 1966 until it's final cancellation in April of 1971. (I would discover it in the early 1970s as it ran in syndication.) Dark Shadows would spin off two feature-length movies based on the original, a series of tie-in novels, an excellent reboot series in 1991 (starring Ben Cross as Barnabas), and a positively embarrassingly awful movie directed by Tim Burton in 1991.

ABOVE: Johnathan Frid starred as Barnabas Collins, one of the leading characters of the original Dark Shadows television series. The influence of the series cannot be understated. In many ways Dark Shadows paved the way for the inclusion of supernatural elements in other soap operas of the 1970s and the 1980s, and was largely responsible for the explosion of romance novels featuring supernatural themes over the same time period.

While Dark Shadows was a favorite early television program for me, another show would prove not only to be a borderline obsession, but also a major influence on my career as a storyteller. Night Gallery (1969-1973) was a weekly anthology television show from Rod Serling, better known as the creator and host of the original Twilight Zone. Like Twilight Zone before it, Night Gallery was a deep and complex commentary on the human condition, but unlike its predecessor the outcomes for the characters almost always skewed towards the horrific and the truly outré. In "The Painted Mirror," an antiques dealer uses a magic painting to trap an enemy in the prehistoric past. Jack Cassidy plots to use astral projection to kill his romantic rival in "The Last Laurel" but accidentally ends up killing himself. In "Eyes" a young Stephen Spielberg directs Joan Crawford in a story about an entitled rich woman who plots to take the sight of a poor man. Week after week it delivered some of the best-written horror television of the early 1970s.

In retrospect I find it surprising that I was allowed to watch Night Gallery at all. I was very young while it was airing, and some of the content was dark and often quite shocking for its time. Nevertheless, I was so attached to the show that I'd throw a literal temper tantrum if I missed a single, solitary episode. If our family needed to go somewhere on an evening that Night Gallery was scheduled, either my parents would either have to wait until after it had aired before we left, or they'd make arrangements in advance with whomever we were visiting to make sure it was okay that I could watch Night Gallery there. I was, in a word, a fanatic.

ABOVE: Every segment of Night Gallery was introduced by series creator Rod Serling standing before a painting created explicitly for the series. Director Guillermo del Toro credits Serling's series as being the most important and influential show on his own work, even more so than the more famous Twilight Zone.

#horror #70s #occult #supernatural #television #writing

[nishinoya-can-rolling-thunder-me]

A Summer’s Night

Keishin Ukai x Reader

Summary: The two of you sneak out as children to escape the realities of the world and to enjoy the sweet ambiance of a summer’s night, but life always catches up and the years separate the two of you, but will fate and chance...and maybe a bit of meddling drive the two of you back together?

First time writing a Haikyuu one shot!!!! Sorry for typos, I started this last night and fell asleep and picked it back up between my classes

Masterlist

The crickets chirped alongside the buzzing of the mosquitoes that floated and buzzed on their never ending hunt for blood. They waited for any unsuspecting victim to land upon. Though your hand came crashing down upon a brave one that had tried to land upon your calf, though you froze at the sound of the harsh slap, looking back to your home over you shoulder as you paused, the door halfway closed. The silence that was met from the house sent a wave of relief through you as you finally closed the door shut, shoes clumsily tossed to the porch below to allow your feet to shove themselves in before you were running through the grass of your front yard, disturbing the crickets that jumped out and passed your feet to knock into your legs within the dimness of the moon and stars above. You only continued your running past the road and along the levis of the rice field and through the rows of plants of a farmer’s crop. Fireflies only shined and sparkled as they calmly watched your form continue it’s hurried place.

“Keishin...!” You finally whispered out once you stopped in front of a house, head whipping around to look about the yard and to the crops that surrounded it, though finally you jumped as you saw a door slide open and closed, a familiar buzzed head now appearing before you. Keishin was still clumsily shoving on his own shoes and straightening out the slightly baggy hoodie that hung off of his body slightly. Keishin was your best friend, always had been. The two of you would race to each other’s homes after school, would help out on the farms the two of you lived upon, spend summers together, and of course sneak out to meet each other on those very summer nights too. It was a habit that just...stayed for some reason. Sometimes the two of you would even make the journey to his grandfather’s house to play with one of Keishin’s volleyballs using his grandfather’s net....but you were never any good, but you liked the way Keishin would laugh at your own clumsiness. Also one time Granpa Ukai had woken up too, but thankfully the two of you quickly dipped out before he noticed...but you always had a sneaky suspicion that the old man knew something was up because he would always give you two a knowing look when the two of you would go to help with chores around his home.

“Sorry I’m late....my mom was walking around the kitchen, so I think she was having trouble sleeping, but I waited a bit until I think she fell asleep.” Keishin whispered out as he repositioned the tucked blanket he had under his arm, now stepping forward, motioning you to follow. “Bet I can beat you to the pump.” He said with a snort before bolting off, you giving a little gasp of disapproval before racing after him, your tinny legs almost being able to catch up with his, but his legs were far longer and he of course made it to the rusted water pump, blanket already in his hands and carefully being tossed out to the ground.

“No fair! Your legs are longer than mine!” You complained as you sat upon the blanket with a huff, he only rolling his eyes as he sat beside you now shoving his hands into his coat pocket, casting a glance at you. That’s glance moved into a sassy eye roll as he let his eyes wash over the crops that rolled out before the two of you in what seemed to go on forever. These summer nights were always the best. Just the two of you either talking away or enjoying the silence and company of each. Of course the mosquitoes were a con to all of it, but for these moments you would suffere any insect bite.

Except for a wasp....and maybe bees....those always hurt more than anything! Though you guessed you could deal with it even then, Keishin always knew how to nurture and tend to those stings that were afflicted upon you if your summer adventures ended up in an angered stinging insect’s path.

“Well then get longer legs...” Keishin finally teased you as he looked back to you, your tiny fist soon crushing down on his shoulder, the two of you now shooting off in a racket of giggles and laughs as the two of you chased each other through the fields, leaves rustling with the gust of wind your bodies would leave behind underneath the night stars and the bugs that tried to reach with all their might to touch them.

The years went on though and high school had hit. The two of you had stepped upon the school grounds of Karasuno with childish excitement, Grandpa Ukai trying to hurriedly explain where each and every area was and beckoning his teases in his rough way to say I love you to you and Keishin as the two of you rushed off and of course a reminder to join the boys volleyball club to Keishin and a possible manager position to you. Though that never really happened. It seemed like an ocean had began to form between you and your dear childhood friend. First it began with him always on about volleyball. You just didn’t understand, that wasn’t your fault or his. Your interest just didn’t settle their anymore. You joined the art club. Your allegiance was held there. The paint brushes and sketch books beckoned you with such a warm embrace. Keishin didn’t understand that love, which again wasn’t his fault or your own. Life just happens and people are always constantly evolving with what they like and dislikes. Sadly the two of you were just now the complete opposite. You were in the college prep classes as well, he wasn’t.

The ocean just continued to grow and grow, the rushing waves and strong tides tugging the two of you further and further away until your fingertips just couldn’t hold on tight enough no matter how much strength and might you put in. The two of you had created and tagged along with new friend groups and now pursued totally different things. Though late in the summer nights you would always let the sadness creep in to remind you of how much you missed chasing and running around into the late hours upon his family’s farm and a tear would always be shed for those fond and far off memories of your childhood friend.

Graduation was now far off in the distance and you used your free time as a freelance painter and of course a manga drawer that would be published within the black and white pages of the town’s newspaper, but that was mostly targeted towards the elderly residents. Then a part time job at your family’s little restaurant. You lived a happily and those high school memories now far off and hazy, the faces barely even memorable.

“Grandpa Ukai! I know I don’t see you doing these silly things out in this hot weather!” You called out as you pushed past the front gate, a basket balanced upon your hip. The children he was instructing now giggled at your scold and of course held a bit of fear at you talking to an elder in that manner, but of course the old man only waved you off as you sat upon the steps leading onto the porch of his house, bottle of water now brought up to his lips as you sat the basket beside him.

“Oh hush....they let me leave the hospital, therefore I am fine!” He spat out in a grouchy manner, though his face lit up as you handed him a scroll, his old fingers now unraveling it to admire the painting upon it. “Ah! Now this is art! Thank you! Let me go get the money.” He huffed at as he was preparing his old joints to lift him up from his spot, though you only waved him off.

“Now, let’s settle for a trade, I’ve been eyeing some of the produce that your little garden over there is producing.” You pointed out with a laugh, which he clicked his tongue with disdain.

“You aren’t gonna make any money with trades.” He huffed out, though he motioned a hand to the garden. “But be my guest, that damn thing is producing too much and I can’t eat it or sell it quick enough before the sun gets it or the wasp for that matter.” Ikkei grumbled as he watched you gather up your basket, he now up and telling the neighborhood kids to continue practicing, now standing beside you as you had squat down to be eye level with his plants, hands now expertly picking what was good, the leaves rustling as you pushed them aside to let your eyes wonder through their twist and turns on your little hunt for ripe vegetables. Though the old man was now beside you, placing vegetables carefully in your basket. “You know....Keishin wasn’t here not too long ago, had a little shrimp here to help learn a few things.” The man mumbled out with a sigh, you only casting a glance to him, but he continued on. “He may be an idiot, but I say he’s quite handsome, people do say he looks like a younger me.” He said which that got a little giggle from you “That boy is still single though along with you! You two are two old now! What if the two of you want to have children and what not.” He continued on, though you only gave a playful roll of your eyes.

“Grandpa Ukai, these days you shouldn’t pressure people to get married because they are getting too old.” You spoke out with a sigh as you looked over to him. “Besides, it’s not easy finding the right one either. Sometimes it takes time and patience which you lack sometimes.” You pointedly said to him which he only gave a sassy ‘humphf’ as he motioned for you to take the vegetables in his hands to place away in your basket. “And married life isn’t always for everyone you know.” You said in a sing song voice to try and lighten the seemingly heavy topic. You had gotten enough of this lecture from your own family, hearing from Ikkei just already set your brain into a hazy exhaustion.

“You and Keishin are both stubborn.....ever since the two of you were children....sneaking out to mess up my net after I told the two of you to ask first...” he muttered out, you freezing as you shot a glance to him, fingers almost busting the tomato in your hands. “The two of you were always loud even if you thought you were quieter than a mouse living amongst the shrines in my back yard.” Ikkei added with a chuckle as you looked away in slight embarrassment at the newly discovered blunder of your childhood. “Oh! The though I do have a favor to ask!” He groaned at as he lifted himself up from his own squaring position once your basket was almost full to the brim, now motioning you to follow him as he reach through the opening of his sliding doors to pull out a stalk of bananas, placing them within your basket to then draw over the cheese cloth you had brought along with you. “Bring this to the boy’s volleyball gym, they need the potassium.” He spoke out in a scolding manner. You have a nod of your head and a quick bow to the elder before you, but you couldn’t help but give him a quick squeeze and a kiss upon the old man’s cheek, just as you would always do as a child whenever you and his grandson would take the walk over to visit him. “Oh now get out of here before I make you do more work.” He huffed out after the platonic display of affection, trying to keep his rough exterior as you gave a quick wave, the front gate now slamming shut behind you and the kids already pestering the old volleyball coach with questions.

The grounds of Karasuno always gave you a deep sense of nostalgia just by looking at it, but walking upon those very courtyards and sidewalks just made the feeling even deeper within your heart as you took your time walking along the sidewalks that meandered through the school’s ordinary campus. The hazy memories of your years there seemed to slowly float arround you, the images of blurry faces people walking by or the lines of memorable conversations seemed to float through the air. The friends you made and kept after those days appeared within your head, the proudest works of art you accomplished in your club, and the pride your parents felt with your accomplishments and grades. Keishin’s face would try to slip by....but really no memories could come with it. There were no memories of Keishin to float by of his buzzed, high school self, only the ones of him and you as a child.

As you grew closer to the gym in question, you could hear the banging and slamming of balls, the bickering and booming voices of the teenage boys within, and the screeches and squeaks of their sneakers upon the polished hardwood floor. With those noises came the face of Keishin, but you only side as you pushed away, hand now sliding the door open, the team within stopping their practice to look over.

“I...Grandpa....I mean former Coach Ukai told me to bring these over.” You spoke out, a little embarrassed at the burning gaze of the young students before you, though a man was already stumbling forward, his blonde hair texture by the bleach and dye upon the strands pushed back with a head band as he bowed before you, now motioning for one of the young men to come forward.

“Thank you ma’am.” Spoke out what you assumed to be the captain, the other boys now excitedly speaking out their thank you’s as well when you assumed the club sponsor gave the ok for them to dig into their little treat. Though you looked back up to the man before you. Those eyes seemed to bore into you, almost a hopeful look melded within his pupils. Though you couldn’t quite place your that face...though it seemed so familiar.

“That old man needs to take it easy.....” finally muttered out the man before you, which nodded your head as you looked to the team now eating their bananas, listening to the ambiance of their teases, arguing, and plain conversations, though once you finally looked back to the other, it seemed to click. It might have been how the lights hit his face, because the name Keishin finally popped within your brain like an exploding balloon, those childhood memories playing like a film within your head.

“Keishin? I barely recognized you...” you finally managed out, a soft blush of embarrassment as you looked to him with eyes wide with shock, he only sheepishly scratched the back of his neck as he looked down to you.

“Yeah....it’s been awhile....why don’t we step outside? Boys! Continue your drills once your done eating, but take it easy so you don’t throw it up!” He yelled to the team who shouted their acknowledgment to his words.

The two of you now stood within the summer sun that was beginning to make its route that led it closer and closer to the horizon. A cigarette was now tugged out from it’s carton and hanging from his lips, the red embers glowing it’s soft orange as he would inhale.

“It’s been awhile....” he finally spoke out as he flicked the ashes to the cement below, you now sat upon the steps to the gym, basket beside you. “Grandpa always mentioned what you were doing and that you still went to visit, but I would always miss you.....bad luck I guess.” He muttered out, smoke snaking out from his nose and mouth as he spoke out after a drag from his cigarette.

“Grandpa Ukai mentions you too....he didn’t mention that you were the volleyball coach however...I wish he would have prepared me a little.” You joked as you rested your elbows upon your knows, chin rested upon your hands as you looked out to the horizon where the other buildings or the school stood against along with a tree hear and there, the far off buildings of the town and the power lines that stretched forever and ever. “I didn’t recognize you with that hair.....last I saw you-“

“I had a buzz....yeah....grandma and that old man weren’t too happy in the beginning, but I think they have gotten use to it.” He said with a little laugh as he finally let himself rest beside you, the basket now cozily tucked between the two of you.

“So....what are you doing now? Anything else other than coaching?” You soon asked through the silence that fell between you, now looking over to him, the smell of his smoke now wafting into your nose, the smell Alamo slightly comforting. Maybe it was only comforting because now you knew it was him who smelt like that.

“I took over the convenience store from mom, so I’m running that now.” He said with a little smile. “It’s not so bad, it was one of the places we would frequent the most.” He said with a little snort at the memories of you and him bursting through the front door with such pride and excitement as the two of you would beg for a meat bun and a cool drink to go along with it.

“Your mother would end up threatening us with the broom if we wouldn’t get out of we planned on just playing around and not helping.” You continued on with a soft smile, waiting for him to continue you.

“And then the farm, I help with the farm now, well I mostly do everything, I don’t want to rely on my parents to help me with everything you know...” he said as he flicked the cigarette again, now rolling it within his veined hands, you nodding your head.

“Good, I would have been disappointed if they would have gotten rid of it, I have too many fond memories of that place...” you commented as you as watched the ashes from his cigarette float down to sputtered out onto the cement below.

“All those nights......” he softly spoke out

“Yeah...” you said with a smile of fond remembrance as it seemed the two of you sat in a silence to let those memories play within your head, but it was soon interrupted by Keishin clearing his throat, his gruff voice now following after.

“And you? That old man tells me things, but who knows if that ancient brain of his got it all right.” He joked as he snuffed out the butt of the cigarette on the ground, tossing it into the trash to only light another one, you humming as you thought out your response.

“I help with mom and dad’s restaurant, mostly serving on my free time and helping with the book keeping and cleaning and whatnot, the things that they are just too tired to do anymore, but I have a feeling I’m going to take over it soon.” You spoke with a smile as your hand reached down to roll the aglet of your shoe lace within your fingertips. “And then I paint by commission, Grandpa Ukai is my most prized client at this point and then cartons for the paper, but they are usually just political and whatnot, stuff the old timers enjoy.” You said with a giggle as you looked up, your gaze meeting Keishin’s but a jolt of your heart quickly brought your gaze away and back to the cracked, cement side walk ahead of you. “I Uh....don’t make him pay though most of the time, instead I trade.” You explained quickly, motioning to th basket beside you. “That man is insufferable though, he needs to take it easy, but he was scurrying all over the place with the neighborhood volleyball crazed kids and he lectured me on not being married.” You said with a little laugh to try and push aside that racing heart within your chest.

“You aren’t?” Keishin asked quickly after you spoke, smoke now racing through his nostril with his exhale as you looked to him.

“And you aren’t?” You almost spat back defensively, a blush crawling upon your cheeks as you stared at him, he now taken aback, a blush upon his own cheeks as he puffed from his cigarette.

“I asked first!” He quipped back, you only giving a small frown.

“A date here and there, but they don’t work out.” You finally answered him with your arms crossed and rested upon your knees, now you looking to him, eyebrows raised in anticipation for his answer.

“Dry...” was all he said with a huff, you humming a bit, letting out a little ‘huh’ of surprise. “What...what is that suppose to mean?” He quickly asked you which you only gave a little laugh.

“Nothing, just expected you to have a girl or something, even if your parents and grandparents think you look wild there must be plenty of girls in this prefecture that you could woo.” You spoke teasingly, a grouchy scrunch of his face taking over his features as he gave a huff.

“The same could go far you, couldn’t it? A beautiful girl like you should have a boyfriend or something.” He grumbled out, a soft blush now back upon your cheeks as you gave him a glance, your lips almost seeming to be sealed shut by his compliment to you.

“Touché...” was all you could manage out as you fiddled with your hands, the silence now engulfing the two of you once more, a childhood memory being remember and spoken about that would leave the two of you in wistful sighs of the old days or in tears of laughter at the childhood stupidity displayed and executed by the two of you. Though finally that second cigarette was tossed and the two of you were now up, bottoms cold and stuff from sitting so long on those cement steps.

“It was nice seeing you again..” he spoke out, hands shoved in the pockets of his track pants, you now balancing the basket upon your hip, head giving a soft sigh. You didn’t quite want to leave. It had felt like your friend was finally grasping onto your finger tips again across that ocean between the two of you and you feared that leaving would break that little grasp once more. He surely felt the same as well as he didn’t make an effort to move to the open gym door. Though almost silently and knowingly, a slightly older man was handing him off a notepad and a pen before walking off to talk tot he team members and also to the two managers, Keishin now staring to the notepad and pen, mind seemingly blanket before he was already scribbling down something and snapping the paper off the pad before handing it to you. “My number....” he seemed to almost nervously say, you taking it gently before grabbing the pad and pen from him to scribble something down as well before handing it back.

“And there’s mine....though you probably could have gotten it from either your grandma or grandpa, they tend to call me regularly too.” You spoke out, the two of you letting out your nervous laughs, but even then with that grip retightening and becoming stronger between you and him across that ocean filled with dangerous tides and waves, you still were hesitant to begin your steps away, gazes still locked onto each other. Finally though you turned your back to him, a blush upon your cheeks as you seemed to hurry away, Keishin still seemingly star stuck at those cement steps until an argument caught his attention and he was soon yelling and scolding his team.

Now it was as if your hands were now held together before you and him, almost in a soft and gentle handshake, maybe even sharing a loving squeeze. The two of you now standing upon the calm waves and waters of that ocean, met with the silence with now the both of you left to stare at each other. There was no need to now grip onto the very tips of each other’s fingers in the ocean of life that seemed to only moments ago rip between the two of you. The visualization was strange within your mind, but it brought your heart thumping within your chest at what this new stance within you and Keishin’s life, your childhood friend, the friend lost to the world by now found once more.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #ukai x reader #haikyu!! #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x oc #haikyuu x me #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x self insert #keishin ukai x reader #keishin x reader #keishin ukai #ukai keishin #coach ukai x reader #coach ukai headcanons #ukai headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu fanfiction