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jake-g-lockley · 1 year

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Hi could I please request with any of the moon boys afternoon in the public library selecting a lot of books because they keep finding different ones by author's you love and they're carry them all and the elderly lady behind the counter thats been watching says that they are a lovely young man and a keeper. Thank you 💜 😊

Escape (Jake Lockley x reader)

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A/N: EEEE THIS WAS A CUTE IDEA. I had done something similar with the other two babies, so I hope you don’t mind me choosing Jake <3 yes the most unlikely place you’ll find this man is the library but let's go with it hehe.

Word Count: 1.6 k

Love can be blinding, and Jake feels like it is blaring in his ears through sonnets and poems. He learned from you that to love is to not hurt, but to let things be. To love is to be free. Your tender beauty and kindness had been his pride’s undoing. He didn’t realise that his heart got snatched away until it started beating by the song of your own heart.

The first time he met you, nothing in this universe could have prepared him for the blinding reality that he was going to face. He was so caught off guard by your appearance that he seemed to forget his own name. You had flagged down his cab, hair bellowing in the wind as the first droplets of rain hit the windscreen of his cab.

You immediately had struck up a conversation with him, jabbering away about how a crow stole your bagel in the morning. Jake couldn’t help but laugh at your story, letting your soothing voice rub at his hardened edges.

“Here, call this if you ever have another bad day. You don’t have to flag another cab, just give me a call.” Jake found himself saying, slipping you a note along with your change.

“Oh, you’re too sweet, you don’t have to do this!” You sighed but in reality, you wouldn’t know whether you had the willpower to not call him immediately after he dropped you off at the place you needed to be at.

And that’s exactly what you did. Jake Lockley, the handsome cabbie, became one of your closest friends. He had a sense of humour that made you feel at home, you’d always end up laughing a little too hard when Jake would cook up a joke. Soon, you were sitting in the front seat of his cab and he switched out his newspaper boy cap with sunglasses that complemented the vibe of his curly hair. You often found yourself looking longingly at him wherever he would blast the radio and start singing along to your favourite songs.

Today, you asked him whether he wanted to hang out at the library and he immediately texted you a yes, picking you up in less than 20 minutes. Jake watched as you rolled the window down, letting the wind blow in your hair as you smiled blissfully. The weather was tolerable and Jake was extremely happy. Your leg bounced as it usually did and Jake fought the urge to place his hand on your thigh and steady it, instead choosing to grip the steering tighter.

You skipped up the stairs of the library once you got there, and Jake followed you, absolutely mesmerised by the spring in your step. Once you realised that you were getting too far away from Jake, you hung back and took a hold of his hand, surprising him. He lurched forward, his chest colliding with your back. He immediately murmured his apology, still in awe with you.

You breathed in deeply, the scent of the library filling your lungs with a deep memory. Your grandma used to bring you here and read you books and she encouraged your love for them.

“If you wanted to escape, this is the safest way to do it, child.” she used to say and that's what you did every weekend.

Why did you bring Jake with you then?

The question plagued your mind as you pulled him through rows of books, the sound of Jake’s boots thudding against the carpet the only thing keeping you held down to Earth. Slowly, you let go of Jake’s hand and trailed off, absolutely enamoured by the books before you. Jake slowly drifted off too, his headmate begging for him to pull one of the books that he really needed from the shelf.

Jake rolls his eyes and pulls the book before turning to look for you. All his eyes saw were the rows of books, you nowhere in sight. Jake shakes his head and smiles to himself, gently tapping the spine of the book with the palm of his hand. It wasn’t long before he found you. A stack of books were balanced on your hip and supported by one of your arms, the other hand holding a book too close to your face as you scanned the page. You readjusted yourself as one of the books began to slip from the stack and Jake hurried forward.

He eased out the books from your grip and held onto them. You turned and smiled at him, blinking up at him with big eyes that made him feel mushy inside. You stood on your toes and placed the book you were holding on top of the pile Jake was holding, before placing a soft kiss on his cheekbone. Jake’s face flamed red hot. He’d never been kissed on the cheek before and he didn’t know how to react.

“Thanks.” he mumbled and his headmates roared with laughter like an old Hollywood laugh track.

“You’re welcome.” you smiled and turned, walking towards the next shelf, feeling proud of yourself for that move.

“She’s walking you like a dog, mate!” Steven chuckled as Jake began to float behind you again.

“As if you won’t literally pass out if you were fronting.” Jake huffed under his breath.

You frowned at the shelf, realising the book you wanted wasn’t there. You decided to ask Beatrice, the little old lady at the counter to check the records for you. Beatrice was already smiling at you, her favourite regular but there was something odd about her smile.

“Heya, Ms. Bea! I just need a title searched in the system.” you politely asked with a smile.

“Hi, darling, sure.” with a few taps of her keyboard, she announced where the book was and you grinned excitedly, almost uttering your thanks when Beatrice smiled at you again.

“You aren’t going to introduce me to the beautiful boy hiding behind the books?” she asked, and gave you a pointed look and your eyes widened instantly.

“Uh, yea! This is Jake, Jake this is Ms. Beatrice!” you quickly introduced them.

Jake carefully set the books onto the counter and took the lady’s hand, kissing the back of it. Beatrice giggled like a school girl and you gave Jake an exasperated look.

“Oh, dear, I most definitely approve. This one here is a keeper, alright.” Beatrice says and now it was your turn to cosplay a red tomato.

Jake let out a beautiful laugh that ringed deep in your heart.

“Really, trust me, my husband was like you, still is, comes here everyday bringing me lunch. I thought romance was dead but I’m so glad to see it blooming amongst the paths of unsaid words.” Beatrice says, clutching her and to her heart as she looks between the two of you.

Jake and you were frozen to the spot, your eyes as big as owls. You snapped out of it first, thanking Beatrice and pulling Jake with you, who quickly scooped the pile of books in his arms and followed you.

You quickly found your reading corner and sat down, Jake following suit.

“Sorry about Beatrice.” you say after the loud thudding of your heart settled.

“Why are you sorry about Beatrice?” Jake was taken back, out of all the things you could have said, you choose to say that.

“You’re probably weirded out by what she said, about romance and all.” you mumbled, hanging your head.

Jake was still confused at your words, trying to absorb them as silence enveloped the two of you.

“You know what, I really do not know what to say, so I’m just gonna show you.” Jake says, lifting your chin up and leaning towards you before you could make out what was going on.

His lips met yours so gently that you thought he had touched your lips with flower petals. Your eyes were wide open and you struggled to comprehend what was happening. Jake snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you against him, making your mouth drop open with a gentle lick of his tongue. Your eyes fluttered closed and you found yourself losing yourself to the momentum that had been caused by Jake hurling your relationship past the cliff of a very unknown cavern.

You were kissing Jake, you were kissing Jake fucking Lockley.

He pulled away first, keeping his face incredibly close to you.

“Okay, now I know what to say. I’m not the kind that particularly chooses to love romance but I think I’ll be okay if it is with you.” he shrugged. “Besides, I also think I don’t mind you seeing me old and wrinkly like Ms. Bea’s husband.”

You were stunned, this was not the way you intended your day to go. Your eyes welled up in tears and you busied yourself by taking Jake’s hand in yours and kissing his knuckles before holding it close to your chest.

“I was in love with you the second you threw the door of my cab open. Didn’t expect you to call at all, but when you did I felt like I took my heart and threw it at you, to hear your voice through my phone, that was everything to me.” Jake continued, gazing lovingly into your watery eyes.

“I might be in love with you too, Lockley.” you sigh, a teardrop escaping as your eyes closed. “Everynight, you’re in my dreams and you’re my escape.”

Jake let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding and gathered you close. It was going to take a lot to get him away from you. You soon found yourself with your head in his lap, your longing drifting into pure bliss as his soft poetic voice filled the air with beautiful words.

Reblogs are appreciated ~~~

taglist: @fandxmslxt69 @randomnessfangirl @in-between-the-cafes (where’d she go 🥺) @bodhisattva11 @marc-spectors-wife @nyotamalfoy @steven-grants-world @jbearre85 @whatsliferightnow @minigirl87 @wonderfulboiledcoldpotato @alexxavicry @autismsupermusicalassassin @flordelalunas @marygraceee @bloodredwolfsbane @euphoricosmo @sky-robin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sugarpunch-princess @violet-19999 @celiaswife @swiggy-needs-mental-help @ghostheartbeat @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @lil-stark @absolutelybloodyhopeless @mintpurplemnm @spookyysilverr @cookielovesbook-akie @mandoloriancookie @pimosworld

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sheadre · 8 months

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Phantom of the Opera (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader) Chapter Six

Summary: Lady (Name) Granville, daughter and only heir of Duke Granville just arrived back for this season from her tour in Europe. However, she came back to London with a secret. And it seems Anthony Bridgerton just found out that secret.

Word count: 1116

Warnings: fluff, romance, angst

It took you by surprise when Lord Vincent de Trafford appeared at your door. He was one of the eligible bachelors interested in finding a wife this season. You danced with him once and he was likeable. But he was no Anthony Bridgerton. You hated yourself for still thinking about him just like now, when you were standing in front of Lord Trafford. As you looked up at him, you had to strain your neck but his bright smile made you forget about it.

“Lady Granville, I asked Lady Danbury if I could join the two of you to promenade in Hyde Park today with my mother and younger sister.”

His deep voice was caressing your ears as he spoke. His smile was so bewitching, everyone was smitten with him but lately during all the balls since he and his family arrived, his attention seemed to be solely on you. His presence drew everyone’s attention especially because of his mysterious background no one really knew about.

Your heart flattered in your chest as you tried to find the words of agreement.

“And I agreed to it.” your aunt walked out from the drawing room. “Are you ready, my dear? Ophelia and Margaret are waiting for us outside.”

With a simple nod, you intertwined your arm with your aunt and let her lead you to the carriage outside. Lady Danbury seemed like she had a plan in her mind because the other day she was warning you about Lord Trafford and now she was ready to let him close to you. The ride to the park was filled with small talk and you tried to pay attention to it so you could respond respectfully to any questions asked. Getting out of your head was quite hard these days.

After Sienna asked you to give up your dreams, you thought over her reasons and left the theatre. Ever since then, you felt numb. The only thing you truly enjoyed in life was taken from you because of your simple existence. Having responsibilities you never asked for but was forced into, made you feel bitter. Your anger soon died out, however, leaving only numbness behind. It has always been like that. You got angry quickly but it just as quickly snuffed out and you accepted how things were. Reality hit you hard that way sometimes but that is life and one has to move on if they want to experience other things as well.

Once you arrived at Hyde Park, you felt relieved, the carriage was crowded with all five of you inside besides, you were still not used to Lord Trafford. He was a stranger after all. Your eyes widened at that. Wasn’t Anthony a stranger as well in that sense?

“Lady Granville, we haven’t had time to talk ever since the play-hunt.” Lord Trafford smiled gently down at you. “How are you fairing? Have you read anything interesting lately?”

“Actually I quite enjoyed the latest poems of Lord Kershaw. He is a unique talent.” you replied. “Do you enjoy poetry or do you prefer novels?”

“It depends on the author. It is not the genre but the style that piques my interest.” he said as he stared ahead, Lady Danbury and his family behind the pair of you. The weather was nice, there were only a few white puffy clouds in the blue sky. This environment felt peaceful like this. You didn’t need to be on guard by Lord Trafford’s side, you didn’t need to think about ulterior motives.

Then, as you listened to Lord Trafford’s musings about literature, your eyes landed on three familiar figures in the distance. Benedict Bridgerton was telling his brothers about his latest story when your eyes met with Anthony’s. His brown eyes were trained on you, his smile that lighted up his handsome face by the funny story only brightened when your eyes met his. Your heart skipped a beat and you quickly turned your head avoiding further eye contact.

He only made your life miserable so far, you shouldn’t be spending even just a second thinking about him. As you walked with Lord Trafford and his family, you slowly seemed to ease into a tranquil conversation. Your heart slowed down its pace and small smiles and chuckles left your lips when the lord made a few jokes.

Your group found a perfect spot for your picnic, sandwiches and small cakes were passed while conversation flowed. Then suddenly, a ball hit the back of your head making you spill tea on your dress as you sat on the blanket.

“Hyacinth!” a familiar voice cried out partially from anger. You looked back still in surprise to see little Hyacinth standing a distance away, staring at you in fear. Then came running up to her a frustrated looking Anthony Bridgerton with furrowed eyebrows. He crouched down to her level, said something to her and then held her hand and led her toward your group.

You stayed put, your heart beating so rapidly in your chest at the sight of Anthony you thought it would jump right out of your body. He greeted everyone with a dashing smile and then looked to Hyacinth and encouraged her to apologise.

“Hyacinth came here to apologise for being careless when playing, right Hyacinth?”

As you looked at him, your mind was filled with thoughts of how much Anthony looked like a father. Shaking your head a little to clear your head, you smiled at them and listened to Hyacinth’s apology. She looked ready to burst into tears, her lips pouted and her cheeks grew red.

“I-I… I’m really sorry!” she cried out and then hid behind Anthony’s legs. You smiled at her and reached out for her to grab your hands.

“It is quite alright, darling, no harm was done. Are you alright as well?”

Hyacinth seemed to calm down seeing your reaction and soon she was sitting in your lap. Then Lady Danbury spoke up:

“Lord Bridgerton, why are you not joining us?”

There was a pause in the air, then he cleared his throat and said: “I would not want to impose on-”

“Brother, you shouldn’t say no to a lady when she invited you herself.” Benedict Bridgerton clapped his hand on Anthony’s shoulder with a wide grin on his face. Lady Danbury laughed and motioned for you to move over to her side. Benedict pushed Anthony down next to you before his brother could protest. It was way too obvious that Lady Danbury and Benedict Bridgerton were in on something but you couldn’t help but focus on the close proximity you found yourself in with Anthony.

You knew you were doomed.

To be continued…

#romance #fluff #angst #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton

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tht0nesimp · 8 months

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Cold- Yan!Feitan

tw: Mentions of torture, feitan is a warning in himself, you really like peaches

This wasn’t fair. But then again, life isn’t fair? Is it? You questioned for the millionth time as your arms laid limp in the metal chains holding them just a bit too far up to the ceiling to be comfortable

When you’d first gotten here, prayers and promises were all that could pass through your already fragile mind struggling to believe that this experience is truly real. But alas, no matter how hard you screamed, pinched, or cried, the reality of your Situation never changed

you were still hanging by your wrists just barely above the cold concrete floor instead of being on your couch listening to music or poems or sleeping, doing anything that Didn’t cause as much pain, Albeit the only thing that kept you from thinking this was the worst possible outcome was the bloody screams coming faintly from the other side of the small area you were in, the only thing keeping you from the rest of the concrete basement was a few thick dividers somewhat resembling what you would see dividing patients at a hospital

there was a small cot next to you with a thin blanket on it, worn out and as much as you would love to lay down on it, it looks like it’s barely 10 pounds from falling in on itself. The only other thing with you in this small corner of the-Barely-closed off room was a rusted sink covered in all sorts of liquids as well as unidentifiable stains

He rarely talked to you, he either came to hurt you to watch you (Sometimes the latter), More than likely a cruel tactic to break down your “tough” psyche which hadn’t quite crumbled down on itself yet. He was asking someone questions, the screams were somewhat faint to your delight as it Meant you wouldn’t have to hear the man plead for his life today

The noises eventually come to a stop, And footsteps slowly make stop infront of the divider. His shoes visible for a moment before the divider moves and suddenly your body hits the freezing grey floor

“Up.” He speaks with slight annoyance, adrenaline seemed to let your tired legs shakily stand. “Hm” he stared at the cot and held his hand out for a moment, doing something you couldn’t see, “Lay down” he points to the cot and seems rather pleased that you wearily lay on it

It doesn’t collapse but it creaks “I’ll get a new one tomorrow” his monotone voice barely reaches you “Thank you” the feeling of laying down even if it was just with a thin blanket was refreshing beyond belief. “Don’t try anything, or you’ll get to see first hand what happens” He warns

“Yes sir” the words come out dry from days without water or food “It’s feitan” he moves the divider quickly and suddenly hes gone. It takes a few hours for you to even be able to get up and stretch your legs, you approach the old sink attached to the wall at the bottom of the cot-The thought would have made you sick before this last week or so but it barely even made your mind in the desperate mood you were in

you put your hand under the weak stream of water trickling from the leaky faucet, taking a gulp of the cold water was pure bliss. After a few more rabid gulps you were able to turn off the sink before sitting back down on the cot

you were so focused on the water that you neglected to realize feitan stood behind you, watching the animalistic behavior with a surprised look hiding behind his cowl. You immediately look down in slight shame, mixed with fear of how he might react

“hmm, thirsty, huh?” He teased while looking at the sink for a moment “Uh…yeah” your voice comes out weaker than you hoped it would “I might replace the sink eventually” if you were delusional than you might have actually believed him

You spared him your seeming belief in the form of a thin smile, your mind much more worried about how your going to get out of this hellhole. Feitan stared for what felt like an eternity before he walks away once more into the surrounding room- The only difference was that the divider was not returned to its closed off form and instead is open

You clumsily stumbled out, Looking around the rest of the room, There was someone shaking in the corner as if they were freezing but you ran past them and towards the wooden steps that creaked when you ran up them to reach the upstairs of his house. Your greeted by feitan sitting at a table next to a small kitchen, on the other side of the table is a living room with a small old couch sitting facing a small TV

“Brave one…” he mutters just loud enough for you to hear from the top step, the dusty glass goor closed behind you as your feet meet the near freezing wooden floors of the dining room. “Sit, Hungry?” He calmly asks with a slight hint of pity at seeing your shaky steps towards the chair across from him

“Yeah…” you look down at your lap but it just makes him chuckle and get up, placing a peach in front of you with surprising gentleness. “Thank you” it takes all of your effort not to immediately sink your teeth into the soft fruit in-front of you until he sits down across from you, the little self control you managed to uphold tore to pieces when you looked down at the fruit again

It wasn’t peach season, but the thought barely crossed your mind as the fruit was gone in mere seconds. Feitan laughed at the once more ravenous behavior in a way that made your cheeks light up pink from shame

“Your as pink as the peach was” he mumbles before throwing the pit in the trash without even looking, watching the slight amazement on your face with pride.

He propped his elbows up on the table and held his head in his hand “I’m gonna ask you questions, your gonna answer honestly” out of some small confidence you had the curiosity to ask “If I don’t?” feitan sighs and his eyes narrow at you

“then you can say goodbye to the cot, for a long,long, time”

#Yandere feitan #brainrot #yandere male #Yandere hxh #Yandere Hunterxhunter #fandom #Hxh brainrot #Yandere HxH blog #yandere blog #yandere scenarios #I kinda like it #CandiesActualFics #Yan!

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blackfeather96 · 29 days

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Songs that remind me of One Piece ships and why.

Lets start with:

Luffy x Boa - Addicted to you by Avicii

I think this songs describes Boa's obsession with luffy very well.

"You came into my crazy world Like a cool and cleansing wave Before I, I knew what hit me, baby You were flowing through my veins"

What can she do? It's Luffy :D

Sanji x Pudding - Stereo Love by Edward Maya and Vika Jigulina.

This song describes a bit the pain that Sanji went trough in Whole Cake Island, with Pudding's lies, yet he still tried to make it work. :(

"I can fix all those lies But baby, when I run, I'm running to you You won't see me cry, I'm hiding inside My heart is in pain but I'm smiling for you"

Usopp x Kaya - If you're not the one by Daniel Bedingfield.

Because in my heart, Usopp thinks about Kaya every sigle day and he loves her.

'Cause I miss you, body and soul so strong that it takes my breath away And I breathe you into my heart and Pray for the strength to stand today 'Cause I love you, whether it's wrong or right And though I can't be with you tonight You know my heart is by your side"

Robin x Law - Mirrors by Justin Timberlake.

Because of their similar past and personality. They have been trough a lot of pain, but Robin was healed in a way that Law wasn't yet, and In my delulu mind she can heal him.

"It's like you're my mirror My mirror staring back at me I couldn't get any bigger With anyone else beside me And now it's clear as this promise That we're making two reflections into one 'Cause it's like you're my mirror My mirror staring back at me Staring back at me"

Zoro x Tashigi - Another Love by Tom Odell.

Because the main reason why people ship them, is because zoro finds tashigi similar to Kuina, and it doesn't matter how their relationship will develop tbh, I think he will always see her as someone similar to Kuina.

"I wanna sing a song that'd be just ours But I sang 'em all to another heart And I wanna cry, I wanna fall in love But all my tears have been used up

On another love, another love All my tears have been used up On another love, another love"

Franky x Robin - We found love by Rihanna.

Because they met on a sea train on the way for their execution, and they did have some great moments there :)

"Yellow diamonds in the light Now we're standing side by side As your shadow crosses mine What it takes to come alive

It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny But I've gotta let it go

We found love in a hopeless place"

Nami x Luffy - Believer by Imagine Dragons.

Because she was broken, but he made her a believer.

"I was broken from a young age Taking my sulking to the masses Writing my poems for the few That look at me, took to me, shook to me, feeling me Singing from heartache from the pain Taking my message from the veins Speaking my lesson from the brain Seeing the beauty through the...

Pain! You made me a, you made me a believer, believer"

Ace x Yamato - Thousand Years by Christina Perri.

Because Yamato was waiting for Ace to return, and he would still be waiting...

"I have died every day waiting for you Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years I'll love you for a thousand more"

Zoro x Sanji - One more night by Maroon 5.

Because they are always fighting :D If they are a thing, this is their song.

"You and I go hard At each other like we're going to war You and I go rough We keep throwing things and slamming the doors You and I get so damn dysfunctional we stop keeping score You and I get sick Yeah, I know that we can't do this no more, yeah

But baby, there you go again, there you go again making me love you Yeah, I stopped using my head, using my head"

Sanji x Nami - What are words by Chris Medina.

Because it doesn't matter where, when or how. Sanji will Always be there for nami.

"Anywhere you are, I am near Anywhere you go, I'll be there Anytime you whisper my name, you'll see How every single promise I'll keep 'Cause what kind of guy would I be If I was to leave when you need me most"

Zoro x Robin - She's crazy but she's mine by Alex Sparrow.

Because she's crazy, and he always saves her when she's in danger.

"The kinda girl who really loves to dance She loves to mess around with her friends Wanna know her now, wanna love her now I wanna make her be my girl She likes to give a smile to every stranger She loves to get her ass in any danger Wanna love her now, wanna love her now I wanna make her be my girl"

Hiyori x Zoro - Make you feel my love by Adele.

Because she fell in love for him in Wano and was always worried about him and took care of him when he was hurt, but he had to leave.

"When the rain is blowing in your face And the whole world is on your case I could offer you a warm embrace To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear And there is no one there to dry your tears I could hold you for a million years To make you feel my love

I know you haven't made your mind up yet But I will never do you wrong I've known it from the moment that we met No doubt in my mind where you belong"

Koala x Sabo - Can't help falling In love by Elvis Presley.

It's a simple yet beautiful song, as we haven't seen much about them, but I do think Koala couldn't help but falling in love with sabo. :)

"Take my hand Take my whole life, too For I can't help falling in love with you"

I probably forgot a lot of popular ships, tell me what you'd like me to write about next! Don't forget to give me your opinion and other songs for this ships!

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selarina · 9 months

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Ghosts in Love

-> Kageyama Tobio x Reader (ft. Suna Rintaro x Reader)

Chapter 2: Ill-Fitted Bonds

Summary: Amidst shared streets and familiar alleys, chance encounters with your ex at grocery stores or parks evolve into shopping together and sharing park benches.

Loosely inspired by the poem "Ghosts in Love" by Carl Sandburg

Content Warnings: post-breakup, childhood friends, pining, fluff, hurt/comfort, love triangle, implied sexual content, angst, eventual smut

Word Count: 1.9k words

Taglist: Open

Author's Note: I apologize...BUT who’s side are you on? I need to know

Read on AO3 | Series Masterlist

You don’t see Suna Rintaro for another 4 months, and you think he may have really taken you up on the offer to move. But you think you know him enough to know he would not put in the extra effort to do all that. He may simply be avoiding you, and for once, you find yourself thanking him for it.

You do see him on social media though, just the brief updates on his matches, and the occasional less-than-welcome selfies. Less than welcome because they make room for themselves in your head sometimes, not leaving for days on end. But it’s been 4 months and you realize today that you haven’t opened to check his account in two months. You smile, sipping on your tea. The taste is a bit more bitter than usual, but you kinda like it today.

Your phone rings, and you put down the tea, a bit of it falling to the tip of your thumb. You hiss, as you reach for your phone, sliding and answering it.

“Hey,” you answer. “Are you ready yet?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way,” he says, sounding out of breath yet somehow still yawning.

“Are you really, Tobio?” You ask, already aware as you deadpan.

“Okay, I haven’t left yet but I’m leaving soon, okay? I’m sorry — the alarm.” You fight the urge to groan but his voice comes out again, a little sheepish and a little ashamed, “I slept through it.”

“It’s okay,” you’re quick to reassure him because it really is, you haven’t got much to do today. “Call me when you leave, and I’ll leave too, okay?”

“Okay, thank you. Leaving soon,” he says.

You cut the call, and decide to book a cab to the cafe, deciding on waiting there for him to come. You wanted to finish your tea, and finish this crossword anyway, you think.

—

The crowd bustles a bit loudly for your liking, it’s usually that the cafe provides a sort of white noise effect wherein the voices get unanimous at some point, blurring things out for you to focus but it’s not working today. You groan, but dissolve into a smile, when you catch Tobio coming your way.

“Hi,” you say, going up to him and engulfing him in a hug. Per usual, he smells good, a bit like bergamot twined with notes of cedar.

“You smell good,” you say, allowing yourself to rest your head on his shoulders for a moment.

“You always say that,” his voice reverberates through his body, and you can feel it against your own.

You pull away, smiling, “Well, you always smell good.” You smooth down your clothes as you sit down. “I ordered your usual, it should be done soon,” you add.

“Thank you,” he says, sitting stiffly, but a bit slouched.

“You’ve been sleeping in a lot lately,” you say, referring to not only today’s delay but yesterday’s and the day before that, and the entire week before that.

“I don’t know I’ve got myself into a cycle, and I can no longer sleep on time,” he sulks, pouting very visibly. You feel the urge to pinch his cheeks, but you fight it. “It’s annoying.”

“Ah, is it because of that one day you stayed up?”

“Yeah,” he replies, “I should never have done that,” he mutters.

“It’s not that hard to fix,” you say, and he perks up just a bit.

“And?” He asks, a bit impatient as he’s suddenly pulling in closer to you.

“Just tire yourself out, and you’ll sleep soon as you hit your bed,” you say.

“Guess I’ll gym a bit harder?” He says.

You frown, raise your brows, and clear your throat. “Or we could go out?”

He looks at you, a bit studded, but not entirely shocked. “Okay,” he responds.

“What?” You ask, startling him a bit with your loudness. You turn to the lady sitting behind you, “I’m so sorry. Yes, I know. I’m sorry. Of course.”

You turn back to face him, raising your brows. “What? I’ve been meaning to ask anyway,” he says.

—

You find yourself walking hand in hand with Tobio, into the restaurant. You’re not sure how this will tire him out into sleeping in early, but you do suppose it was merely an excuse to ask him out on your part. Why he’s agreeing to this is beyond you, but you walk beside him as though it isn’t.

You’ve known Tobio for almost his entire life — sometimes distantly, sometimes closely. It changes on and on over time, but you remember always thinking of him as someone you would want to be. Chasing his dreams with endless fervor, how he was at playing ball, even when you were all merely 4 years old with no real concept of winning or losing. It was and is rather inspirational, moderation notwithstanding. But it’s rarely easy to be around him without feeling like you’re wearing ill-fitted clothes all the time.

“It’s under Kageyama Tobio,” he says. “Of course, sir.” The uniformed man smiles warmly at him and turns to smile at you. You mirror him stiffly, almost like a well-practiced routine. “Right this way, please.”

Tobio smiles, his hand coming to squeeze yours before he pulls you to walk in tandem with him as the two of you follow the host, and that’s more than enough to break you out of your stupor.

You haven’t noticed it but Tobio Kageyama is unlike you, as you’ve mentioned but he is also very much like you. He walks stiffly like he doesn’t necessarily belong in this restaurant like you’re his only tether to this place as he tightly grasps your hand. You suppose it’s why he’s the only childhood friend you have retained. The thing about wearing ill-fitted clothes though, is very much who he is sometimes. In whispered conversations on his balcony, he tells you this, bears his heart out, and you find that you had misunderstood, or just half-understood him. And since that day, you’ve kept each other at arm's length.

You joke that he’s afraid you’re going tell people about all his vulnerabilities and that is the sole reason why he keeps you close. He jokes about the same. But you think what you’ve come to find is an attachment of some sort. You smile.

Contrastingly, when the host asks a myriad of questions about preferences and allergies, he answers deftly, like a well-oiled machine, oozing confidence, and a little charm as he chuckles, a chuckle that reverberates deeply within you. You hold your breath, as he gently pulls your chair out, takes your coat, and helps you place it neatly behind your chair, pushing your chair, before he goes on to sit opposite you.

The restaurant is big, but the tables are small. More intimate you suppose, his face is only a feet away.

“So,” you drawl. “Is this where you charm all your dates Kageyama Tobio?” You smirk, “Pretty neat, I must say.”

“Stop,” he softly blushes. You smirk harder. “Charm? Are you stupid?”

Your raise your brows, as he continues, “I can’t charm…” He looks away.

“Hm? I think the list of very beautiful and talented women you’ve dated suggests otherwise,” you smile. It’s not hard to figure out a public figure’s dating history, you’re not sure how much of these are true but you would tease him regardless.

“Well, that’s only because I’m good-looking,” he says with a hard pause. It comes off cocky, but you smile you know him, and because he states more like an observation. A fact, one you can’t help but find yourself agreeing with as the night passes. “I mean, t—that’s what I’ve been told.” He blushes harder, and you almost want to make it all stop, but he’s just so cute like this.

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop,” you chuckle. He stares blankly as you continue to ease into a smile.

“You like the place?” He asks.

“Yeah, it’s really nice. Very…” You look up from the menu to see he’s looking at you intently, the soft yellow from the candle hitting light onto his ocean-blue eyes. “Intimate.”

His brows raise, just barely, you think you should change the topic. “Have you been here before?”

“Uh, yeah. I come here alone, sometimes the team comes too.” He says, his eyes flitting down to the menu again, flipping the page. “But also, with Miwa whenever she’s in the city. She really likes this place,” he adds.

“Ah?”

“Yeah, a celebrity once showed up at the same time we were here, and ever since then — she always drags me here hoping someone will show,” he looks up, his face comically blank.

You smile. She would do that, wouldn’t she? It’s been so long since you’ve met his sister, you remember only being able to stand her before you started to understand how Tobio really worked, you think maybe without her you wouldn’t be here with Tobio.

“Tell her I said hello,” you say as you beckon the waiter, seeing that you’re both ready to say your orders.

—

You both start walking out of the restaurant, with your coat snugly wrapped around you by Tobio, you stroll out just as you had entered the establishment, hand-in-hand.

“The food was so good,” you say. “Very filling. I can definitely see why after practice version of you loves showing up here.”

He doesn’t say anything, simply walking in step with you, a beat later and you’re both waiting for his car. Your hand comes up to loop through his bicep, using him as you place weight onto him. He remains barely fazed. You’re tired, and you’re about to entirely lean on him as you notice him. His hands are pocked in his pants pockets as he talks to a couple of people around him,

Your eyes flit back to him as his hair sweeps across his face with the night. He’s cut his hair, and you have to say he looks better than he did during your very last encounter. You feel better somehow. He appears to chuckle mutedly at something his friends have said and you can almost hear him chuckle, right up from behind you, right into your ears, as his hands begin wandering all over your body. You hold your breath, sweeping that thought away.

He turns just in time, his eyes falling onto your face as his eyebrows twitch in recognition. You let go of your breath, but you’re not sure what you should ideally do. Raise your hand, and wave at him. And then you realize your hands are looped through Kageyama’s.

Oh.

You stare at him, as he smiles. There isn’t a hint of emotion on his face that suggests anything but you feel guilty for some reason. It doesn’t last long because a lady in a purple dress — attractive, swoops through breaking both of your eye lines. She falls, as he reaches quickly to hold her by her waist. She swoops her hand through and over his neck, and that’s all you see before you force yourself to look away.

“That was him?” Kageyama’s soft voice comes from right beside you in a hushed voice, like he’s almost telling you it’s okay if you don’t want to tell him. You can blame it on the night air eating his question away. “Suna Rintaro, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you admit, feeling guilt all over. It’s okay, you think but it’s only that you’re not sure what exactly it is that you’re feeling guilty over.

Your car swoops through right in front of you, your coat rising, as Kageyama notices, and placates it with his hand. “You okay just leaving?” He asks.

“Yeah, just take me home.”

Taglist: @alienvarmint @sagejin

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redsaurrce · 1 year

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DELUSIONAL

SYNOPSIS- If his smiles weren't for your best friend, then whom was it for?

pairing ✦ Yandere!taehyung x fem!reader

genre ✦ high school au

word count ✦ 1.8 K

warnings ✦ Suggestive, mentions of cut, bleed, death, su*cide, killing, obsession, kissing, profanity, rubbing thighs

A teardrop rolled down your cheek, it fell down and mixed with the earthly waters. It was raining hard today, the day of your best friend's death, the day when you stood near her dead body. Almost thinking it was all a dream. You felt so lifeless.

"I like Taehyung so much Y/N that it hurts." Your best friend Sun-ja's eyes crinkled. You scoffed with a smile plastered on your own face, "I seriously don't get you, what's the point of liking someone till it hurts?"

She tilted her head, "You will never understand the joy of it, you single-pringle." You dramatically widened your eyes at the nickname and pinched her cheek, "How about now? Do you enjoy this pain?" "Ah ah ah I give in I give in, you're not single-pringle, you're anti-romanti." You gasped playfully, "You're unbelievable."

"Am I? Or.. are you anti-panty? That rhymes - OMG I should become a poet, why did I hide this talent?! Woah- AHH AA AH" You pinched her a little harder and retrieved your hand.

"Stop being delusional, it was a horrible poem!" You shook your head.

She looked at you with narrow eyes, "Now give me 15000 won for my hospital bill."

"Hospital bill?" You looked at her in confusion. "Of course, look what you did!" She pointed at her cheek which had reddened due to your pinch. You blinked in amusement, "Hey Sun-ja quit thinking about becoming a poet, you should become a robber or a professional schemer instead."

She hit your shoulders a little too hard causing you to jerk ahead, "woah Y/N You're just really smart huh!?" She clapped and you shot her a sharp gaze.

"OMG Y/N you look scary" She was so dramatic that you couldn't help but laugh.

"Hey- hey Tae's here." You saw her quickly fix herself and sat as elegantly as possible. You wanted to laugh so loudly at her change of demeanor. She whispered with pressed lips, "Y/N he's looking at us so please for once behave like a human." You raised your eyebrows, "What-"

"Fuck fuck fuck he smiled at my direction- what do i do what do i do-"

"Calm down I guess?" You held her shoulders and made her sit still. "Y/N he smiled at me, how am I supposed to calm down?"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

Sun-ja was like that, a happy puppy. People even used to call her sunny due to her sunshine like personality.

Which contrasted her dull personality two months later after she had confessed to Taehyung.

"T-Taehyung I like you." Sun-ja said shyly with a fond smile, eyes glued to the floor. Taehyung tilted his head, "Is that so? Why aren't you looking up?"

Sun-ja's heart filled up with hope so she looked at him in anticipation- instead she looked a face that mocked her guts.

Taehyung smirked, "How bold of you to even think you stand a chance with me." His smirk almost morphed into disgust that is when it changed to neutral when he saw you coming out of the crowd.

You held Sun-ja's wrist, "Let's go. Many people are watching you."

Unexpectedly she yanked her wrist out of your hand, "Let me go Y/N!" She said harshly and turned to face him, "If you think that I don't stand a chance then why did you give out mixed signals my way? Why did you occasionally smile whenever you saw me?" She raised her eyebrows.

Taehyung contorted his and said, "Stop being delusional."

Stop being delusional. Stop being delusional. Stop being delusional.

These words started spinning around Sun-ja's head like a violent storm. At that moment she couldn't comprehend anything anymore so she turned away and ran outside.

You quickly followed her behind. "Stop Sun-ja!! Where are you going?"

"Don't follow me Y/N. You all tell me to stop being delusional. Everyone of you!" She screamed as tears started streaming down.

You were confused by her words. "Sun-ja please!" You grit your teeth as you kept following her. You didn't realize that you were already outside the school and it was the highway.

Sun-ja's visions were blurred by her tears and her screams shunned her ability to hear others. You quickly looked to your right hand side where a car was coming towards her at full speed. You screamed her name but to no avail so you ran with all your might and managed to push her away while you rolled away on the road causing your elbow to bleed and a few cuts on your forehead.

You quickly looked up to look at Sun-ja who was sitting on the road in shock. "Y-Y/N are you okay? I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." She came to you and helped you stand up to get on the pedestrian side.

She hastily pulled out her phone and called the ambulance. You sighed, she was alright. "These are minor cuts Sun-ja don't fret." You assured her but she kept denying.

"I'm so sorry you're my friend Y/N. I don't deserve this friendship." She said through her hiccups. You shook your head, "Don't say that Sun-ja. Please."

You had minor cuts as you had said but Sun-ja was adamant on staying away from you, it hurt you so much but everytime you tried to approach her she would stand up and go away. Because of the rejection she faced on that day, everyone avoided her and she became the outcast of the school.

Several post forums had the video of the rejection up on social media, many people pointed fingers at her for being such a dick to you that you had to risk your life for her. People would come to show you sympathy but they only made you more and more furious for adding fuel to fire. Their words stung like poison to both you and Sun-ja.

You ran with all your might, it was raining cats and dogs, the day was gloomy and the news of Sun-ja's death made your heart pierce and your head was hazy.

You stopped at the sight of her dead body. Almost thinking it was all a dream. Your knees became numb, you fell on your knees, you felt so lifeless. You were surrounded with people crying out loud, most probably her family but all you heard was the rainwater dripping down your ears. You asked yourself, "why? Why did she die? Why did she kill herself?"

Taehyung.

His name was the first to come on your mind. It was all because of him.

You used to clearly see Taehyung look at your direction and smile brightly, you used to double check it by looking at your back where there was no one, making you believe that those smiles were indeed for Sun-ja.

Then why on Earth would he be so hurtful with his words? Why did he reject her?

You slowly felt rage burning up inside you. You needed to face Taehyung head on to ask questions.

You managed to get up on your feet and asked one of his fangirls under a post of his social media account to text you his address.

As you rang the bell, you saw Taehyung open the door moments later. He saw you soaked from top to bottom because of the rain and his face lit up making you feel confused.

"Taehyung I need to talk to you." You said straightforwardly.

He smiled and said, "Ah sure Y/N, come inside let's talk."

His smile made your stomach churn and had you boiling in anger even more. You took a step inside the door and shouted, "I guess you haven't heard yet. Sun-ja.." you paused as your lips quivered, "she.. died."

He went around the kitchen counter and came with a glass of water.

"Can we have a seat first? I don't like talking to people who are loud and screaming in front of my door." He said as he kept the water on the glass table in front of his sofa.

You scoffed, what an annoying douchebag! You stomped inside, almost wanting to throw the water on his face but you took a sharp breath to calm down a little and sat on the sofa. "You really are horrible Taehyung!" You said with your face turning red in anger.

"For what? For not caring about anyone who's dying?" He asked as he took a seat in front of you. Your eyes went wide in disbelief, did he just call Sun-ja anyone? Did he really have no idea who she was? You were about to throw hands but you knew this wasn't your house, causing ruckus here wouldn't end well.

You drank the entire water from the glass in a single sip and missed Taehyung looking at you intensely with a smirk when you drank it.

You scoffed again, "The girl whom you had rejected two months ago, I'm talking about her."

"Ahhh I see.. so what is it? It's not like I should've said yes, isn't it?" He raised his eyebrows.

You looked at the ceiling trying to not breakdown in front of him, "Sure, there must have been countless confessions you might have received, there would have been countless times you have rejected too. But- But you could have atleast politely rejected her. Your rejection made her a laughing stock for everyone.. and now!? Now she's no more alive." You bit your inner cheek.

He nodded, "ofcourse! but you said it yourself Y/N that I've had rejected countless times so.. I know what those girls are like. They don't take a no for no, that's why I have to be firm when I reject them."

You felt disgusted at his words, "Those girls? Hah give me a break! Then what about you? Shouldn't you have apologized to her for playing with her feelings? Why? If you didn't like her THEN WHY THE HELL DID YOU CONFUSE HER?? WHY DID YOU SMILE AT HER?? WHY??" You stood up not being able to contain your rage anymore.

"I never smiled at her though." Taehyung denied as he blinked.

Just when you were going to ask more you started feeling sleepy. "Wtf? Why am I feeling sleepy now out of all times?" You sat down on the sofa to maintain balance.

You shook your head to kick away the dizziness and looked at him, "then who were you smiling at?"

He got up from the sofa and walked towards you, he bent down and looked into your eyes, "It was you." he answered

Your eyes were becoming heavier with each passing second, "What do you mean?" You breathed out.

"It means be my girlfriend Y/N. I can't stay away anymore from you, it hurts Y/N." He said while caressing your face, you made an attempt to remove your face but his hands blocked your movement.

Just then Sun-ja's verbatim started playing in your ears like a broken record, "I like Taehyung so much Y/N that it hurts."

It ached your chest so much at that memory that your face morphed into amusement after hearing Taehyung's confession, "That's never going to happen, stop being delusional... No matter what happens... your actions.. costed.. her life.. I'm never... ever going to... love you... Taehyung.... even if... it... hurts you.. i don't give.. A fuck.. So stop... being--" and before you could complete your sentence, you dropped unconscious.

He looked at you with loved filled eyes, "Well the one who's delusional isn't me but your best friend. Sure, I'll apologize to her for killing her. The only obstacle in between us is gone now. I'm sure if she was alive you wouldn't have dated me at all costs."

He sighed as he leaned in kissed your lips while running his left hand up and down your thighs.

"But now that you're here, I can finally feel at ease. There's no way you wouldn't love me back." He said and kissed you again as if he was convincing himself of it and a kiss with you made his statements come true.

"So for now let's go get your dress changed baby or you'll catch cold. Tonight let's stay in each other's warmth. Ugh I can't wait!!" He said the last words enthusiastically as he picked you up and carried to his bedroom.

TYSM for reading this piece sweetheart<33 Hope you enjoyed, feedback is HIGHLY appreciated MWAHH 💗!!!

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mikeysbabygirl · 2 years

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My aunt told me today « Lina, don't trust a man who promises you the world, showers you with flowers, poems, I love you's... most of them are narcissists and liars» bla bla. Oh auntie, I don't want a man who loves me that way...

I constantly day dream about fictional men. I confess.

I want Manjiro to fucking ruin me auntie. Want him to come home to me the night and without a word just pin me to the wall, hand around my throat and fucks his dark impulses on me. I want him to tell me " likes to be fucked like a slut ? Yeah you do... ". I want him to forget his problems by thrusting in me as hard as he can, no matter how loud I cry, then when he's done, laying on top of me with his head nestled in my neck, want him to look at me, tighten his hands around my waist and say " Don't leave. Please, put up with my shit, don't fucking leave... "

I don't want no rich husband auntie, want Shinichiro back from S&S motors, worries about his family and problems poisoning his head. Wanna show him that I see he's not fine and run a warm bath for him, he'd be surprised and so cute to see I won't leave the bathroom but undress as well, join him in the bathtub and ride his dick until I got him screaming my name. " Feels s'fuckin' good... Don't stop, babe, please, you're so good t'me". The afterglow would be magnificent, I'd just hold his head to my chest so he listens how loud my heart beats when he's with me, and massage his scalp or shoulders from the day's worries. We'd just stay there, nestled into each other, whispers of " You're my reason. "

Don't worry, auntie. I don't want him to be always strong. I want Kazutora to come to me whenever his mental health is regressing. He'd be tossing out blame on me, saying things are my fault. We'd argue, and he'd smash his fist against the wall behind me, but I'd startle and he'll freeze when he sees fear flickering in my eyes. No he would never hit a woman, let alone me, and his heart breaks when he tries caressing my cheek but I close my eyes in fear. " Shit, don't do this baby... Don't do it to me, you know I'd rather rip my chest open than to hurt you." Yes, Tora, I understand. We'd just lay in bed, with his head on my tummy and talk it through, his insecurities, his fears, as I play with his hair. And I feel him placing a kiss on my skin. " Sorry... Sorry I'm so hard to love, sorry I don't deserve you... "

Do you know, auntie that I don't want a man to give me flowers. I wanna go home late after a girl's night outside to forget my ex, get scared when I find the door to my house already open, and find him inside, Haruchiyo. He's sitting on my couch, between broken bottles and spilled out pills, my picture frame broken and sitting next to him. Elbows on his legs with his head between his hands, pulling at the roots of his hair and scoffing loudly. "Bitch, you ruined my life... ". I know it's pointless to get angry with him, dangerous, even. I'd just carefully get closer to him and kneel down in front of him, take his face between my hands and explain that he was wrong to break up with me, that he shouldn't let his insecurities get in between us, that he's not useless, or only good to kill. That he's worth it. He'd keep a stoic expression, but I could almost hear his heart thumping, Haru would close his eyes slightly, before murmuring " take me back. I'm begging you, wanna stay... Take me back. Ain't shit without ya "

I want them broken auntie, I want the bad guys, their sad eyes, their white lies, they want to protect me so tell me goodbye, but come back because their demons get too loud without my lullabies.

Tell me, you who read this, are you from this team too ? Are you insane like me ?

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charmwasjess · 28 days

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I'm going to see Ada Limón read today, the current US poet laureate. I'm excited but a little sad - the festival she's reading at is something I used to do with my late mentor, who was killed last January. Another dear friend who I'd also read with at the same festival passed away shortly after my mentor. All the same, part of grief is keeping going. I couldn't be returning to this festival of ghosts in better company, going with my partner and friends on a rainy spring day in Virginia. We'll walk around downtown and drink wine and listen to good poems. My black dress will get all wet. But this poem from Ada that always hit me (it does feature the death of a person named Jess, after all) is striking me a little bit harder this morning. So here it is:

The Marketing Life for Those of Us Left by Ada Limón

Stuck in the answer of day, all we've got are these people to rely on, and trees, and the grasp of a river in the mind. All the beautiful girls in the office are laughing and I laugh along. And all of us good people, honest and clean, And what puts the mean in some of us?

Sumptuous mountain, midnight milkweed, come to the valley of neon and no-crying. High hillside of home, I'm waving from the cement center, can you see me? I've got this big city in me. Pretty on fire, pretty high wired. It's been a year since Jess died, she said, "I always knew it would come down to pills in the applesauce." And the house is not haunted, nor the office. I wish it was, don't you? We were wilder before, see-through shirts and model boys and bouncers in hotels lobbies across the country. Who knew it would be hard to get to thirty-two? A friend says the best way to love the world is to think of leaving. We're all in a little trouble, you know? Piles of empty stars we've tossed aside for the immediate kiss. Push me around a bit, shake my pockets, I store everything in my mouth, going to make an apple out of plastic, going to make a real star out of the apple, then I'm going to sell it to you. I'm going to tell you it's the most important thing. I'm going to tell you I'm sorry, I'm going to crash on your communal couch of unwanted. Let's say bloom. Let's say we're a miracle of technology. It's harder to not say anything. It's harder to admit we are alive sometimes, isn't it? It's all we've got, say it, pinch me. You're here. So am I. So there.

#we're all in a little trouble you know #getting emotional on the count dooku horniness blog sorry about that #see you tomorrow

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anika-ann · 15 days

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EHHH THERE'S AN ASK GAME GOING ON? Hi Anika <3 (you probably know which pair i'm going to ask but Imma ask anywayy >:D C - Crying// U - Underwear // Z - Zones = for my beloved couple Attached Professor!Rogers and Reader <333

Oh Jam! I have no idea which pairing you were going to choose! (affectionate, so so affectionate 💕 can't believe you still love them🥺)

I also see you woke up today and chose violence. Professor Rogers approves.

Alright. Here goes. Answers to this ask game under cut (cause year, sorry, 18+ , very)

C - Crying (is it a turn on? a turn off? do they cry during sex? have they cried during sex? what was the reason?)

Our dear prof loves having fun with you, loves to tease and edge you, all smirks and smugness, but crying is a no-no for him. He had seen your tears before and they are associated with so much pain, yours and his, that making you cry is simply not on him mind.

The stupid poem slander after you started dating. Your father's harsh judgement. His own struggles after getting shot and telling you to just lose the ring if that was what you wanted. Just no.

He had taken the edging too far once, actually making you cry as you begged him and the way his body physically recoiled at the pain in his gut, the absolute dread and despise he felt was everything but a turn-on. He was the sweetest afterwards, a profoundly loving aftercare, even as you hadn't used your safeword and he most certainyl did not judge you; however he did cackle a little when you felt better about half an hour later and shyly asked him if he could finish what he started and get you off. He very much did.

He got extremely cautious after that; a blessing and curse, because he became the king of edging. He knows exactly how far he can push, he absolutely revels in hearing you beg and mewl sweetly; and to his shock, he found out he very much does enjoy the tears if they come after, just a few of them rolling out at how intense the release gets, how sweetly the relief tastes. He needs to be cautious to use his mouth or hands or toys to do that; if he was inside he, he'd lose it at the sight alone🤭✨

As for if he ever cried, it was once. After the incident with the ring and your reconcilliation, it hit him a few days after, when you made love again - that he really almost pushed you over the edge and lost you. He comes and the emotions just crush him; you hold him through it, tajen aback, but as gentle as you know he would be to you, your heart quiverring as much as his lips do for a few moments.

Z - Zones (what are their erogenous zones? what spots on their body should be touched, bitten, kissed, when someone wants to get them in the mood?)

Steve is a simple guy; you kiss him, a little deeper than usual, and he knows what you want and he's happy to hop on that train of thought. You rake your nails over his thighs - it doesn't even have to be the insight of his thighs - and he's getting putty in your hands. Expect for one part that's growing very hard. Speaking of hard parts, there isn't any more direct message than brshing your fingers right there, right? He is not immune.

He is even less immune when you climb up his lap and kiss his just about anywhere.

One zone that surprised you and actually took you a rather long time to figure out was his forearms. You genuinely didn't realize - it is most definitely a turn on for you when he rolls up his sleeves and shows off his hands and forearms and you just like running your fingers over it. You know he knows that a peek of his forearms, especially when framed by those sleeves, drives you wild, but what you didn't realize was that it was invitation for you to touch him and drive him just as crazy.

Once you know, you take advantage, alright 😌

U - Underwear (what kind of underwear do they put on in the morning, if any at all… do they own any sexy underwear or lingerie?)

Well you can be sure he has a thing for stockings and he doesn't scoff at other lingerie either.; but taht doesn't mean he cannot appreciate simple. Just because you look extremely tempting to him in lingerie, it doesn't mean he's mainyl interested in what's under 😏

As for his own underwear, he's simple guy. Boxers, usually in plain colour, no crazy patterns except for three pairs of Christmas ones you bought him. He can simp, alright; it just made you so happy and you bought matching pairs of panties and it made him smile whenever he saw it on you. And you'd better believe he loves to match, tying yourself to you, even if you two are the only ones to know.

He had lost a silly bet to you once, resulting him having to wear the stupidiest most ridiculous pair of boxers on a day when he went to the gym and had to change in front of a few guys he knew. He was not amused (he was, a little, but don't tell anyone) - he however enjoyed taking his revenge.

What revenge, you ask? Well. If he's going in stupid boxers, than you're going commando to a dinenr with him with a skirt that barely reached just above your knees after he had played with you, teased you and left you soaking and unsatisfied. You could tell he was extremely cautious to make sure you considered it risqué but agreed to do it for the adventure though, because he's a little shit, but not a dick, definitely not to you.

He teased you all night too, even if with less direct touches; he was dlighted to see you still soaking once you got home, all happy to check for that with your back pressed to the door the second they closed behind. Check with his fingers and mouth. He cleaned every. Damn. Drop. And of course, rewarded you for being so so good for him🫠🫠

Hope you're happy with the answers, dear 🥰 Thank you so much for participating💕

#asks #reply #LEMONS #lemony LEMONY lemons #professor steve rogers x reader #attached #attached vibes #anika replies #steve rogers x reader #professor au #college au #modern au

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homomenhommes · 4 months

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THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … January 4

1750 – France Bruno Lenoir and Jean Diot are caught having sex in public for which they are arrested. A year later they were executed. There was general surprise in France at the severity of their sentence. Their execution was the last in France for consensual sodomy.

1877 – Marsden Hartley (d.1943) was an American Modernist painter, poet, and essayist. Hartley was born in Lewiston, Maine, where his English parents had settled.

In 1898, at age 22, Hartley moved to New York City to study painting at the New York School of Art. Hartley was a great admirer of Albert Pinkham Ryder and visited his studio in Greenwich Village as often as possible. His friendship with Ryder inspired Hartley to view art as a spiritual quest.

Hartley first traveled to Europe in April 1912, and he became acquainted with Gertude Stein's circle of avante-garde writers and artists in Paris. Stein, along with Hart Crane and Sherwood Anderson, encouraged Hartley to write as well as paint.

Finnish-Yankee sauna

In 1913, Hartley moved to Berlin, where he continued to paint. Many of Hartley's Berlin paintings were further inspired by the German military pageantry then on display, though his view of this subject changed after the outbreak of World War I, once war was no longer "a romantic but a real reality." The earliest of his Berlin paintings were shown in the landmark 1913 Armory Show in New York.

In Berlin, Hartley developed a close relationship with a Prussian lieutenant, Karl von Freyburg, who was the cousin of Hartley's friend Arnold Ronnebeck. References to Freyburg were a recurring motif in Hartley's work, most notably in Portrait of a German Officer (1914). Freyburg's subsequent death during the war hit Hartley hard, and he afterward idealized their relationship. Many scholars believe Hartley to have been gay, and have interpreted his work regarding Freyburg as embodying his homosexual feelings for him.

In addition to being considered one of the foremost American painters of the first half of the 20th century, Hartley also wrote poems, essays, and stories.

Cleophas and His Own: A North Atlantic Tragedy is a story based on two periods he spent in 1935 and 1936 with the Mason family in the Lunenburg County, Nova Scotia, fishing community of East Point Island. Hartley, then in his late 50s, found there both an innocent, unrestrained love and the sense of family he had been seeking since his unhappy childhood in Maine. The impact of this experience lasted until his death in 1943 and helped widen the scope of his mature works, which included numerous portrayals of the Masons.

He wrote of the Masons, "Five magnificent chapters out of an amazing, human book, these beautiful human beings, loving, tender, strong, courageous, dutiful, kind, so like the salt of the sea, the grit of the earth, the sheer face of the cliff." In Cleophas and His Own, written in Nova Scotia in the fall of 1936, Hartley expresses his immense grief at the tragic drowning of the Mason sons. The independent filmmaker Michael Maglaras has created a feature film Cleophas and His Own, released in 2005, which uses a personal testament by Hartley as its screenplay.

1946 – Arthur Conley aka Lee Roberts (d.2003) was a U.S. soul singer, best known for the 1967 hit "Sweet Soul Music".

Conley was born in McIntosh County, Georgia, U.S., and grew up in Atlanta. He first recorded in 1959 as the lead singer of Arthur & the Corvets. With this group, he released three singles in 1963 and 1964 – "Poor Girl", "I Believe", and "Flossie Mae" – on the Atlanta based record label, National Recording Company.

In 1964, he moved to a new label (Baltimore's Ru-Jac Records) and released "I'm a Lonely Stranger". When Otis Redding heard this, he asked Conley to record a new version, which was released on Redding's own fledgling label Jotis Records, as only its second release. Conley met Redding in 1967. Together they rewrote the Sam Cooke song "Yeah Man" into "Sweet Soul Music", which, at Redding's insistence, was released on the Atco-distributed label Fame Records, and was recorded at FAME studios in Muscle Shoals, Alabama. It proved to be a massive hit, going to the number two position on the U.S. charts and the Top Ten across much of Europe. "Sweet Soul Music" sold over one million copies, and was awarded a gold disc.

After several years of hits singles in the early 1970s, he relocated to England in 1975, and spent several years in Belgium, settling in Amsterdam (Netherlands) in spring 1977. At the beginning of 1980 he had some major performances as Lee Roberts and the Sweaters in the Ganzenhoef, Paradiso, De Melkweg and the Concertgebouw, and was highly successful. At the end of 1980 he moved to the Dutch village of Ruurlo, legally changing his name to Lee Roberts — his middle name and his mother's maiden name. He promoted new music via his Art-Con Productions company. Amongst the bands he promoted was the heavy metal band Shockwave from The Hague. A live performance on January 8, 1980, featuring Lee Roberts & the Sweaters, was released as an album entitled Soulin' in 1988.

Conley was gay, and several music writers have said that his homosexuality was a bar to greater success in the United States and one of the reasons behind his move to Europe and his eventual name change. In 2014, rock historian Ed Ward wrote, "[Conley] headed to Amsterdam and changed his name to Lee Roberts. Nobody knew 'Lee Roberts,' and at last Conley was able to live in peace with a secret he had hidden – or thought he had – for his entire career: he was gay. But nobody in Holland cared."

Conley died from intestinal cancer in Ruurlo, Netherlands aged 57 in November 2003. He was buried in Vorden.

1962 – Peter Steele , formerly Lord Petrus Steele , actually Petrus Thomas Ratajczyk , born in Brooklyn , New York, was an American musician . Steele was the singer , bassist and songwriter for the metal bands Carnivore and Type O Negative.

Known above all for his powerful bass-baritone voice, Steele first worked as a singer and bassist with the heavy metal group Fallout and then with the thrash metal band Carnivore. After Carnivore had disbanded for the time being, Steele, who was still working for the New York Park Authority at the time, founded the music group Type O Negative together with Sal Abruscato, Kenny Hickey and Josh Silver. Steele was particularly controversial in the early years of the band due to supposedly right-wing extremist ideas in the public. He himself always denied such allegations. He later created the Vinland flag , inspired by the Nordic flags and his own Scandinavian ancestors , which was henceforth to be found on the band's releases.

In August 1995, Steele, who was an imposing figure with his stature and height of 2.03 m, posed naked for the US edition of Playgirl. However, when he learned that around 75% of the readership are homosexual men, some of whom would now make advances to him and he was then exposed to the malice of the other band members and fans, he wrote the song I Like Goils (dt. I like girls ).

Peter Steele died on April 14, 2010 of complications from an aortic aneurysm . Steele's companion Sal Abruscato (formerly Type O Negative drummer) said they were in the process of getting Steele into an ambulance when he passed away before leaving the house. Before his death, Steele had been drug free for nine months and was in the process of making plans for a new Type O Negative album.

1969 – Richard Hake (d.2020) was a journalist and reporter for WNYC, where he was one of the hosts of the weekly morning program, Morning Edition.

Richard Scott Hake was born in the Bronx to Richard James Hake, a New York City police detective, and Joy Mekland, a clerical worker and secretary. He graduated from Carmel High School in 1987, then from Fordham University in 1991, and began working at NPR in 1991 while still at Fordham. He became a news host and reporter at WNYC in 1992. He was openly gay.

He spent 28 years working as a radio news host, reporter, and producer. He featured on several local and national NPR programs, such as Morning Edition (which he hosted), Weekend Edition, All Things Considered, and On the Media. He also broadcast on MTV, the BBC, WCBS, WBGO, WOR, and WFUV radio. Hake hosted for MTV's Logo Network's The Advocate News magazine program. His documentary work includes "The Perfume of the Bronx" and the "Coney Island Cyclone Anniversary."

For his reporting, Hake was awarded accolades from the Associated Press Broadcasters Association and the Society of Professional Journalists. Hake made his Broadway debut as a chimney sweep in Mary Poppins.

In his Twitter profile, Hake noted his unique role in the bustling Big Apple, writing: "I wake people up and tell them stories on the alarm clock, the app, streaming, in the shower, in the car, etc."

As coronavirus cases surged in the city and officials told office workers to stay home, Hake set up a makeshift studio in his one-bedroom apartment, complete with an art deco "on air" light and various microphone flags bearing the station's logos over the years.

Hake died on April 24, 2020, at age 51, in his Upper East Side home. His manner of death was ruled to be a result of an accident, according to the City's Medical Examiner.

1970 – Christopher Klucsarits, better known as Chris Kanyon (d.2010), US Professional wrestler, best known for his work in World Championship Wrestling and the World Wrestling Federation, under the ring names Kanyon and Mortis.

In 2006, after Kanyon's release from WWE, he began a gimmick in which he was an openly homosexual pro wrestler. This included a publicity stunt wherein he stated that WWE released him from his contract because of his sexuality. Kanyon later told reporters and even stated on a number of radio interviews, that this was just a publicity stunt and he was heterosexual. However, he later retracted these statements and acknowledged that he was in fact homosexual.

Before his death Kanyon was working on a book, Wrestling Reality, with Ryan Clark. The book was released November 1, 2011, and it features Kanyon's struggles as a closeted gay man as a prominent theme.

1984 – Illinois repeals its "lewd fondling or caress" law, more than two decades after repealing its sodomy law.

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chaxiu · 10 months

Text

a list of further possibilities

pairing: hanamaki takahiro x fem! reader

summary: it’s hard to understand what it really feels like to want something. hanamaki is trying very hard to remember. only very loosely inspired by chen chen’s poem “when i grow up i want to be a list of further possibilities.”

notes: this is just a little piece with literally no plot and no overarching anything. spoilers for the post-timeskip professions of the seijoh four. allusions to depression and depressive modes; deals heavily with themes of mental health. mostly a character study instead of anything else – aka me projecting my constant existential crisis onto makki so,,, sorry about that <3 love you all! get some rest.

____

Depending on how he cares to tell the story, Hanamaki supposes it could all begin in high school, with the stupid career sheet his third-year teacher had slammed a stack of onto his desk (okay, really just placed, but in hindsight, she might as well have slammed it down hard enough to crack the desk, for all the good it did him.) He’d blinked at it, then at her. Matsukawa, behind him, had poked him, hard.

“Take one, pass it back,” he’d hissed. “Dude, I know you’re like, academically challenged, but this stuff should be easy.”

Hanamaki had flicked a bit of eraser shaving at him, pinging him square in the forehead. “Shut up,” he’d said. “I’m tired. Brain’s not functioning at one hundred percent today.”

“When does it ever,” Mattsun had grumbled, rubbing at the spot on his forehead where it’d hit.

Makki had scowled at him, but turned around to face forward, turning his attention to the sheet of paper. Name, date, class, he had filled out easily. chewing on the tip of his pen out of habit (one his mother was constantly after him to stop.)

Post-graduation plans:

He’d paused, biting down on his pen, hard.

Post-graduation plans. The phrase had made him think of Oikawa, tossing his head back with an air of practiced confidence. (Argentina, he’d told them, and only years of experience let Makki see the fear tensed in the edges of his jaw.

To play volleyball, he’d added, like it was something that needed to be explained.)

It made him think of Iwaizumi, steady shoulders and even gaze, always looking forward to the horizon. (Irvine, he’d said. California. To study sports medicine. There had been a weight on his shoulders but he'd carried it steadily. Something always there, something always on the cusp of becoming.)

These days, it even made him think of Matsukawa, who hadn’t said anything tangible about his college plans but whose backpack Makki had spotted with college brochures sticking out of it, some as far away as Tokyo.

Post-graduation plans. He had rolled the words around in his mouth. They didn’t taste like much.

He turned in the sheet blank, slipping it under Mattsun’s before depositing both in their teacher’s hands. There would be time, in the future, he’d decided, to figure it all out.

And then, and then, and then. And then his last volleyball match, and then his last bowl of post-match ramen. And then his last practice, and then his last walk home from the gym, pausing at the same bend in the road they always did, before Makki went one way and Mattsun went another.

Things felt a lot closer, suddenly. He’d shoved that feeling back down his throat, into his chest. Mattsun didn’t seem to notice, tilting his head back to look at the night sky above. “Big moon, tonight,” he’d commented absently, and Makki had forced himself to nod along.

Mattsun had raised his eyebrows. “See, that’s how I know things are bad, because that was a perfect setup for a stupid joke.”

Despite himself, Makki had laughed.

“There you go,” Mattsun had said. Dropped a hand to his shoulder, squeezed a little too hard. Makki hadn’t minded. The pressure of it all was a comfort. “Chin up, yeah? It’ll be okay.”

Makki wonders about that, as he sets the cardboard box filled with his desk belongings (such a cliche, down to the tape at the seams of the box, peeling in a way that makes him worried about the bottom dropping out from underneath) at the entry to his shitty little apartment. “Tadaima,” he breathes out, mostly out of habit.

A walk would probably do him good, he thinks, even as he toes his shoes off, sinks to the floor by the kotatsu. Clear the mind. Get some exercise in.

It sounds like something Iwaizumi would say, all gruff voice and rough hands even as he was at the peak of his mother-henning. The thought of it makes him smile, a little. He lets his head fall back. Stares at the ceiling.

Maybe it had been his own fault. His supervisor had given him a vaguely conciliatory smile as he’d delivered the news. “Hanamaki-san,” he’d said, as the two of them were sitting in his little office, the one without any windows that felt vaguely like it had been a closet in a past life, “thank you for your service to this company.”

Makki had nodded, in a vaguely distant way. The other man had frowned, leaned in closer.

“Hanamaki-san, please don’t take this advice the wrong way. Your performance was always adequate. But out of everyone in this office, you out of everyone seemed as though you didn’t want the work as much.”

There had been a loose thread on the sleeve of Hanamaki’s white button-down. He’d picked at it absently. His nails had been too short to do any real damage.

“I think it might be beneficial if you took the time to ask yourself what it is you really want.”

Hanamaki had bowed slightly in his chair. At that moment, all he’d really wanted was a window. To be able to see the sky.

His phone beeps. Mattsun, probably. On lunch break from his job at the funeral home. It wasn’t a job he’d ever envisioned for Mattsun, back in high school, but it made sense. Mattsun with his steady hands and his wry voice and his dependable heart. Mattsun who might not have fallen into something as easily as breathing but who had found a road and walked along it, steadfast.

Hanamaki wonders about that, at times.

It’s not even that he’s terribly disappointed about losing the job. Or even particularly surprised. His supervisor had made some good points, to be honest. It’s that he wishes he could be – more, at times. A little more than what he is now.

Maybe he could start a new career, he thinks absently. Maybe he could start all over, in an entirely different field. Except he doesn’t really have any marketable skills. Or passions. Or anything, really. Maybe he could sell all his earthly belongings, move to the mountains, and become a monk in a Buddhist temple somewhere. Except he doesn’t really have the temperament for a monk (he still gets angry when his Youtube videos take more than five seconds to load) and besides, he’s a little too attached to his hair to really commit to shaving it all off.

Maybe – well. Maybe what, then?

If he squints hard enough, he can see a faint spiderwebbing of cracks on the ceiling, in the corner. Maybe it’ll all come crashing down someday, a veritable rainstorm of plaster and wood and whatever the hell else his ceiling is made of. Maybe he’ll even be there to see it.

________

The thing is this: Makki knows enough about himself to know that he gets in his own head, sometimes. That there are days and weeks when he’ll cut off contact with his friends and family, shut down a little. Spend hours in bed, laying on his side, staring at the drawn curtains. It’s not comfortable, or peaceful, or good. But sometimes it’s all he’s able to do.

On the third day of what he calls his “vegetative phase,” there’s a knock at the door. It sounds three times, then stops. “Makki,” a voice says.

He knows the voice. It’s you. Of course it is. His phone, if he could check it – if it wasn’t dead – if his charger wasn’t God knows where – if he even had the energy to plug it in – probably has dozens of missed texts and calls from you alone.

“Makki, I’m coming in,” you say, and then the door to your bedroom is swinging open and you’re there. He blinks over at you.

“Makki,” you say, again. The tone of your voice is unbearably fond.

He says your name back. It’s been a while since he used his voice. The sound is croaky, hoarse, almost foreign. You smile at him like he’s given you the sun.

“I come bearing food,” you say, hefting a takeout bag in your hand. “As payment for entry. You should really move your spare key, by the way. Under the mat is like, the number one spot that people would check.”

A pause. His brain is working slowly, today. Even slower than normal, he hears Mattsun saying, a smile curved at the edges of his voice.

“Well,” he says, finally. “If you brought food.”

You smile at him and start pulling boxes out, setting them up on the bed heedless of any possible spillage. It’s nice, the way you navigate around him easily. It’s nice. You’re nice.

“You know, I saw a turtle that looked exactly like you the other day,” you tell him, pausing in your preparations to pull out your phone to show him a photo of a turtle sporting an unamused expression, looking like he could rock the haircut Makki had had in high school. “I was tempted to get him, to give to you. I think you could’ve been a phenomenal duo.”

“Probably,” he agrees.

“You could’ve been a comedy act, maybe. Ventriloquism, or something. Or maybe even just a singing duo. Or you could’ve had some sort of telepathic act where you both point to the same card at the same time. Although I suppose the turtle would move much slower than you, so that might be difficult to coordinate…”

You keep talking, even as you draw the curtains open. Outside, the sun is setting. The light is soft. It illuminates you so well. Not that there’s really any lighting that Makki thinks you look bad in, but, well. The sound of your voice is soothing. Makki lets himself fall into it, even as he stretches, long and slow. The pull feels good to his stiff muscles.

“Eat, Makki,” you urge, and he does. Slowly, at first, and then a little faster once he realizes how hungry he is. You hum happily, chewing a bite.

“Want to watch a movie after?” you ask, and he swallows his bite of food. Nods.

“Yeah – just let me. Uh. Shower, first,” he says, aware for the first time in a while of how greasy his hair must be. You just nod, simple and easy.

He stumbles into the shower with his stomach almost uncomfortably full, letting the warm water fall over his body. It’s good. Pleasant. It feels good to do something that makes him feel like a person again.

When he exits the shower, you’re sitting on his couch as if it’s the most natural thing. There’s already one of his shitty alien films on the TV – the kind with a stupid amount of gore – waiting for him to press play. He makes sure to leave a full cushion of couch space between the two of you when he sits down, but you make an impatient noise. “Makki.”

Then he’s being tugged into your space, head in your lap, and your hands are moving through his still-damp hair, moving carefully. As if he’s something precious. He watches the movie in silence with you.

“Makki,” you say against the backdrop of the sound of blood spattering everywhere, “do you want to talk about it?”

He does. He doesn’t. He wants to scream. He wants to fold into himself and fall into the sky, fall into something. There is a hole in the back of his throat, an empty space carved hollow. He thinks every part of him has been built around that absence. That he was made to be a lack of something. He wants desperately to want, to know what it’s like to hold an empty space in your hands and understand what it could be to put something there, instead.

You’re cupping his face in his hands, and distantly, he realizes that he’s shaking. “Hey,” you say, so soft, impossibly soft. “I’m here.”

He turns towards the softness of you, tucking his face into your stomach, feeling the faint rise and fall of the pattern of your breathing.

“I wish,” he says into the fabric of your shirt, “I wasn’t so hollow.”

You don’t say anything to that, just hug him a little tighter, press him a little closer. It helps, a little. He doesn’t feel so much like pieces that could fly apart at any minute. Your hand is warm in his.

“I’ll be here,” you say finally, “until you realize you aren’t.”

“It might take a while.”

“We have so much time.”

Your voice is warm. Your hand is in his hair. “And after, too?” he lets himself ask. He lets himself hope.

Your thumb smooths out the space between his brow, where he hadn’t even realized a wrinkle had formed. Under your touch, it softens, a little. The knot inside his chest sighs. It hasn't untangled itself, not yet, but it's a whisper of a start.

“And after, too.”

#haikyu x reader #haikyu!! x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq!! x reader #hq x reader #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki takahiro x reader #makki x reader #hanamaki takahiro

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hp-mcd-fest · 2 years

Text

Kill Your Darlings 2022 - Anon Master list, prompts, & stats 💜💀💚

First of all, a huge thanks to everyone who participated — prompters, writers, artists, beta readers, and cheerleaders. Without you, this fest would not have been possible.

Now, onto the fun stuff.

The entirety of the master list with each their prompt will be found below the cut.

💀Stats 💀

We had 55 claimants. 65% (36 out of 55) of claimants submitted a fanwork, 24% dropped their claim (before or after the deadline), and 10% left us on read (jk, 5% were never heard from again after confirming their claim, and 5% asked for an extension and were never heard from again). 24% of claimants asked for an extension. 10 out of 36 (28%) of claimants who submitted a work were self-prompted.

💜Fic stats

As of writing this, our fest works have received: -1170 Kudos -208 Bookmarks -16,000 Hits (that's right, I caught it right on time)

💚Our collection has: -36 works, including 3 art pieces, 1 art + fic piece, 1 podfic, 1 poem, 30 fics. -A total of 210,068 words -34 different writers, artists, podficcer. -Shortest piece (excluding art): 221 words -Longest piece: 24,218 words

💜Character stats: -6 Drarry, 3 Snarry, 2 Dramione, 2 Jily, 2 Drastoria, 1 polyship (Fleur/Hermione/Bill) -15 M/M, 14 Gen, 8 F/M, 1 Other, 1 Multi -Most recurring characters: Harry Potter (18), Draco Malfoy (12), Hermione Granger (9) -Total deaths: 56 -Most deaths: Harry Potter (11), Severus Snape (4), Ginny Weasley (4) -Notable rare pairs: Colin Creevey/Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson/George Weasley, Moaning Myrtle/Tom Riddle, Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger/Bill Weasley

Isn't that exciting?!

Okay, I'm done being a nerd for now. If you haven't yet read through our fics, please do yourself a favour, grab some tissues, and settle in for a fantastic ride.

Author reveals will be mid-day Saturday Oct 15!!

💀Day 1 💀

Title: Five GravesCharacters/pairing: Harry Potter & TriWizard Champions (gen) Rating: M Word count/length: 3734 Warnings: MCD, Child Death Summary: “The Departments of International Magical Co-operation and Magical Games and Sports have worked hard to ensure that during this revival of the Triwizard Tournament, no Champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.” Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: Self-Prompt - The Tri-Wizard Tournament was supposed to be safe. It wasn't.

💀Day 2 💀

Title: I Guess I went Gentle (Into That Good Night)Characters/pairing: Pansy Parkinson/George Weasley, Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson Rating: T Word count: 3547 Warnings: chronic illness, memory loss, suicide, dead dove: do not eat Summary: When Pansy is cursed to die a slow and painful death, George and Draco help her to end her pain through assisted suicide. Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: 41 - When Character A is cursed to die a slow death, and the spell is irreversible and is causing them great pain, their lover Character B assists their suicide.

💀Day 3 💀

Title: favourite crimeCharacters/pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Rating: Explicit Word count/length: 6851 words Warnings: Major Character Death Summary: The sparkling, ornate, probably even diamond and maybe emerald she thought, chandelier dazzled across the recently cleaned marble drawing-room flooring, no marks or scuffs showing the damage, hurt and betrayal that had been forcefully pushed throughout the corridors of the Malfoy Manor because of this Second Wizarding War. Upon spotting the second chandelier dazzling and glistening near the first really confirmed how fucking fancy this particular room in Malfoy Manor was. Hermione knew that drawing-rooms were nice but had never been in one like this before, though thinking about it truly, Hermione hadn’t ever even been in a Manor before today. Hermione supposed that there was always a first for everything. Even if she was about to die today. Hermione Granger was his favourite crime and yet, Draco Malfoy would never be enough. Chapters: 1/1 -- Prompt: 4 - What if the chandelier in The Drawing Room never dropped and Bellatrix was able to follow through with her plans of torture…

💀Day 4 💀

Title: the curious case of theodore nottCharacters/pairing: Theodore Nott Rating: G Word count/length: NA Warnings: Murder-Suicide Summary: an enchanted portrait that grows old… until when? Chapters: NA -- Prompt: 48 - Portrait of Dorian Gray style-story. This could work really well as art. A has an enchanted portrait that grows old and foul. They stay young and beautiful forever, until one day, when the portrait is destroyed. The enchantment is broken.

💀 Day 5 💀

Title: wrapped up in youCharacters/pairing: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley Rating: T Word count/length: 6084 Warnings: Grief, illness Summary: At 32, Hermione is dying of a terminal illness. Ron nurses her, comforts her, and cares for the kids while he tries to grapple with the immensity of his grief. Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: Self-Prompt - Told in small notes from Ron’s pov, this fic centres on Ron’s grief as Hermione deals with the last stages of her terminal illness. His worries about their children. His attempts to make life more pleasant and comfortable for her. His reminiscing about their past. The core idea is death with dignity, hermione has a death plan that she selected herself and Ron is helping her act it out. About 2/3 through the fic Hermione dies and Ron has to say his goodbyes and cope with the aftermath with the help of his extensive support system.

💀Day 6 💀

Title: I’ll take a quiet lifeCharacters/pairing: Harry Potter/Severus Snape Rating: E Word count/length: 5007 Warnings: Dubious consent, pseudo-incest, anal sex, major character death Summary: Severus dies but Harry, who has just come to understand what they mean to each other, is master of death. Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: Self-Prompt - Inspired by Wandavision, Snape dies as canon, in the Shrieking shack, just as Harry discovers he loves him. Post-battle, he uses his master of death powers to bring Severus back and to imagine a perfect life for him, only cracks keep appearing until he finally comes to terms with having to let him go.

💀Day 7 💀

Title: As The Tide PullsCharacters/pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Rating: E Word count/length: 24 232 Warnings: MCD Summary: People are always awed by how powerful Harry Potter is. Little do they know it comes with a price. When Harry steps through the doors to Draco Malfoy’s shop Magical Mends they don’t know that both their lives will change forever. Despite the history between them they manage to find something within each other and they start building a life together. Just as their life settles down, Harry starts to show symptoms that turn out to be more than just stress and a diagnosis reveals that there is something wrong with his magic. Chapters: 7/7 -- Prompt: 85 - People are always awed by how powerful Harry Potter is. Little do they know it comes with a price. Harry slowly starts to show symptoms. A diagnosis reveals that he has too much power, his magic is slowly eating him up from the inside. Progressing faster and faster as time goes on. He and his spouse try to find a cure.

💀Day 8 💀

Title: We’re safe hereCharacters/pairing: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter Rating: M Word count/length: 4050 Warnings: MCD Summary: On Halloween 1981, James spends a quiet day with his family in Godric’s Hollow. Chapters: 1/1 -- Prompt: 133 - It was a perfectly normal day, except for the fact that it was the last day of their life.

💀Day 9 💀

Title: InnocenceCharacters/pairing: Theodore, his mom, his dad, Draco Rating: M Word count/length: 2701 Warnings: MCD. Summary: Theodore Nott can see Thestrals. He has faced death early in life. It takes him years to tell someone, why. Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: 12 - Theodore Nott can see Thestrals: the long-awaited backstory.

💀 Day 10 💀

Title: Turning tidesCharacters/pairing: Sirius Black & Severus Snape Rating: M Word count/length: 3560 Warnings: MCD, Grafic Depictions of Violence Summary: When Sirius Black is caught, Severus is worried. He is the secret keeper of his beloved Lily. If he spills the information, she will die. But Black has a plan and he is desperate enough to help with it. Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: Self-Prompt - Dark Magic is about sacrifice. Sometimes for good reason. Sirius Black has learned Black Magic, but knowing the price never used it, until he found good reason for that sacrifice.

💀Day 11 💀

Title: [Podfic] The End Of Our WorldPairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. Rating: T - Teen And Up Audiences Length: 3 minutes, and 39 seconds. Warnings: None. Summary:LupusMundi’s original summary: When Draco had first envisioned his death, he figured he would die in the war. He could get caught in the crossfire, and he would die fighting for something he wasn’t even sure he ever truly believed in. When Draco had envisioned his death, the thought hadn’t crossed his mind that one day he would be unlucky enough to be caught in a robbery. Chapters: One -- Prompt: Self-Prompt - A podfic of the fic "The End Of Our World" by LupusMundi

💀 Day 12 💀

Title: Be Still, My BelovedPairing: Harry Potter/Voldemort Rating: Explicit Word count: 2k Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-con, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Underage (Harry is 14), Paralysis, Gagging, Restraints, Asphyxiation, Rough Sex, Anal Trauma, Necrophilia Summary: Voldemort loves no one and nothing but himself—but a part of his soul resides within Harry Potter, so he can’t help his attraction. He’s determined to enjoy himself before he gets rid of the boy once and for all. Chapters: 1/1 -- Prompt: 7 - Voldemort loves no one and nothing but himself — but a part of his soul resides within Harry Potter, so he can't help his attraction. He's determined to enjoy himself before he gets rid of the boy once and for all.

💀Day 13 💀

Title: chamber of my bloody mindCharacters/pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle Rating: E Word count/length: 9170 Warnings: MCD, Suicide, Blood, Psychological Torture, Psychological Game, Drowning, Toxic Relationship, Tom is a Manipulative Bastard Summary: Voldemort won the war. Harry Potter is held captive as one of Voldemort’s most valuable prisoners—he remains the last Horcrux, the key to the Dark Lord’s immortality. The prison he’s trapped in, isn’t, by any means, an ordinary one: it’s both a physical and a mental box. So, how does one escape such an intricate trap? Why—simply by dying. Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: 128 - Voldemort wins AU, where Harry is the last horcrux and kept alive for that reason. At first Harry wants to survive, but eventually, after much desperate scheming to manage it, kills himself both because he can’t handle the world he lives in anymore and to make Voldemort mortal again.

💀Day 14 💀

Title: a long way back to the light Characters/Pairing: Colin Creevey/Harry Potter Rating: M Word count/length: 3809 Warnings: major character death; more tags in notes (contains spoilers) Summary: Colin Creevey should have died seven years, three months, and four days ago. Actually, Colin Creevey did die seven years, three months, and four days ago. It just didn’t stick. -- Prompt: 138 - Colin knows he's been living on borrowed time. Ever since he was only petrified by the basilisk's stare. That's why he takes even more photographs, now. They're for when he doesn't escape death a second time.

💀Day 15 💀

Title: Forget Me NotCharacters/pairing: Remus Lupin & Gilderoy Lockhart Rating: M Word count/length: 5295 Warnings: Major character death, murder, strangulation Summary: “My copy of Wanderings with Werewolves is important to me,” Remus said earnestly. “I found it when I was struggling with my life, and it helped me find a direction. I’m very thankful that I happened upon it when I did.” Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: 8 - Gilderoy Lockhart’s victims band together to plan the ultimate revenge

💀Day 16 💀

Title: a life debt aggrievedCharacters/pairing: Severus Snape, James Potter Rating: E Word count/length: 2452 Warnings: Self-Harm, Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Bullying Summary: Sectumsempra. For enemies. James Potter got a hold of Severus Snape’s copy of Advanced Potion-Making long before it wound up inside the Potions classroom’s cabinet. He wanted to try a curious little spell on Snivellus. Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: Self-Prompt - The wrong Potter got Severus Snape's Advanced Potion-Making copy. James Potter wanted to try the Sectumsempra curse on Severus for laughs, not knowing what kind of curse it was. With no one to stop the curse on time, Severus dies a slow death.

💀Day 17 💀

Title: but tonight your hand is steadyCharacters/pairing: Lily-centric, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter Rating: T Word count/length: 1872 Warnings: MCD Summary: Five times Lily walked away and one time she stayed. Canon compliant. Chapters: 1/1 -- Prompt: Self-Prompt - five times lily walked away and one time she stayed (with the last one being the "Stand aside, silly girl!" MCD scene with voldemort)

💀Day 18 💀

Title: Regret, A Family LostCharacters/pairing: Percy Weasley. Weasley Family Rating: G Word count/length: NA. Warnings: Death of a whole family? Summary: Percy grieves the death of his family as he doesn’t know they are watching him. Chapters: NA -- Prompt: 158 - Percy grieves the death of his brother/s/sister/parent/s.

💀 Day 19 💀

Title: Breakfast, interruptedCharacters/pairing: Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Rating: T Word count/length: 5229 Warnings: Major Character death Summary: All Lucius Malfoy wants is to have a proper, pureblood heir and to eat his breakfast in peace. Is that really too much to ask? Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: 78 - Only the Malfoys know the real cause of Astoria's death.

💀 Day 20 💀

Title: when it's cold i'd like to dieCharacters/pairing: Narcissa Malfoy & Draco Malfoy Rating: M Word count/length: 2469 Warnings: MCD, Blood and Violence Summary: Draco has failed. Someone must be punished. Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: 72 - It's not enough for Voldemort to have given the Malfoys the mere fear that one of them may die. After Dumbledore is killed, before Lucius is freed from Azkaban, either Draco or Narcissa is made to watch the other die.

💀Day 21 💀

Title: Snake Eyes Characters/pairing: Tom Riddle/Myrtle Warren Rating: M Word count/length: 1414 words Warnings: MCD, dubious consent, manipulative relationship Summary: There’s a single moment, between yellow eyes and nothingness, where she remembers. [Or - What if Myrtle wasn’t a random victim of Tom Riddle? What if he was someone she knew, even someone she loved?] Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: 172 - Before she stumbles upon the Basilisk, Myrtle makes the acquaintance of a charming Slytherin, Tom Riddle.

💀Day 22 💀

Title: can't hear itCharacters/pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Rating: M Word count/length: 3.5k Warnings: Major Character Death, Suicide Summary: Not long, I don’t think. Not nearly long enough. They say it isn’t fatal. PTSD. But loving me is. And you aren’t going to succumb. I won’t let you Chapters: 10 -- Prompt: 50 - A diary of the last few weeks as A succumbs of a fatal disease. What do A and B do? How does B help them? What are they thinking? This can have some uplifting elements but still be quite sad.

💀Day 23 💀

Title: Scenes of a MemoryCharacters/pairing: Gen; Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, and Ron Weasley Rating: G Word count/length: 302 Warnings: MCD Summary: Three looks at what could have been in the Chamber of Secrets in 1992. Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: 23 - rewrite any near-death encounter in canon (troll gets Hermione, cursed bludger kills Harry, Lupin eats everybody, etc) to make it MCD

💀Day 24 💀

Title: Devour The One You LoveCharacters/pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Tom Riddle Rating: E Word count/length: 23k Warnings: Arson, Angst, Grief, References to the Wizarding War, References to Childhood Trauma, References to Torture, References to Canonical Deaths / Murders, Nightmares, Blood, Injury, Gore, Bruises, Wounds, Self-harm, Panic Attacks, Non-sexual hair pulling, Death Threat, Imprisonment, Hidden Identity, Impostering, Non-con possession, Non-consensual blood drawing, Manipulation, Psychological Abuse, Dubcon due to hidden identity, Fear of death, Cannibalism, Self-Sacrifice, Human Sacrifice, Murder, Major Character Death, Dead dove: do not eat, Porn, Drunk Sex, Betrayal, Revenge Summary: A ghost of the past — a love story bleeds into the palm of his hands. A voice echoes from the cupboard under the stairs as figures appear in the mirror. It’s been seven years since the war. Darkness comes back in different forms, wearing the skin of the one that you love. Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: 88 - Devour the one you love.

💀Day 25 💀

Title: Lovers’ FlightCharacters/pairing: Harry Potter/Severus Snape Rating: T+ Word count/length: 221 words Warnings: MCD, implied underage Summary: A Snarry adaptation of Goethe’s “Der Erlkönig” Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: Self-Prompt - This will be a Snarry Adaptation of Goethe's "Der Erlkönig" (The Elf King, although the quality of translations varies). I don't really know what else to explain about this, but Harry will die at the end :D

💀Day 26 💀

Title: For Whom the Burial Held?Characters/pairing: Harry Potter & Draco Malfoy, side pairing Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley Rating: M Word count/length: 6761 Warnings: MCD, mention of rape & violence Summary: Today is June 5th. Your birthday. I’ve decided to give you a gift.

Today is June 5th. The day I say goodbye to you and the past.Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: 75 - Draco's failure at killing Dumbledore landed him in Voldemort's furious side. He was reduced into a plaything and a way to ensure his parents' obedience. In the aftermath of war, Harry and friends managed to locate Draco, now a shell of his former shelf. Harry has to face the dilemma of having to kill Draco as an act of mercy for the tortured boy.

💀Day 27 💀

Title: The Last DeathCharacters/pairing: Gen: no pairing. Characters are Fabian and Gideon Prewett, Molly Weasley, George Weasley, Prewett Family Rating: Mature Word count/length: 17,457 Warnings: MCD, Graphic Depictions of violence Summary: someone once said that we die three deaths. The first is when the body ceases to function. The second is when the body is consigned to the grave. The third is that moment, sometime in the future, when your name is spoken for the last time.

Molly Weasley (nee: Prewett) has mourned her younger brothers for a lifetime but she is not ready to say the final goodbye. Chapters: 6/6 -- Prompt: 157 - A look into how Molly Weasley’s brothers died.

💀Day 28 💀

Title: Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)Characters/pairing: Regulus Black/Sirius Black Rating: T Word count/length: 1800 Warnings: MCD, Incest Summary: A suicide pact was made between two brothers. Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: 131 - A suicide pact.

💀Day 29 💀

Title: Mates and MurderCharacters/pairing: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger/Bill Weasley Rating: M Word count/length: 1509 Warnings: Major Character Death Summary: Fleur and Hermione are getting ready for dinner when something unexpected happens. Bill comes home to the shock of his life. Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: Self-Prompt - Mating bond goes wrong, Hermione is mates with both Fleur and Bill. They've been a triad for a bit of time. During some sexy time between Fleur and Hermione, Fleur's veela half takes over and fatally injuring Hermione. As Hermione lies dieing of her wounds in the bed, Fleur is crying, Bill comes home to find Hermione dead and Fleur covered in blood. A rage fills Bill and he kills Fleur then himself not wanting to be without his mates.

💀Day 30 💀

Title: When Will You Destroy Another?Characters/pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Rating: E Word count: 12072 Warnings: major character death, blood and gore, body horror, dubious consent Summary: Enter Draco Malfoy, single father and hotel owner. It’s tough, but it’s honest work– really, scout’s honor. But when his ex, Harry Potter, walks into the hotel with a successful relationship in tow, what’s Draco to do? Leave him the fuck alone? Not a chance in Hell.Chapters: 5 -- Prompt: Self-Prompt - A cracky retelling of the adam and eve story. Harry walks into Draco's hotel with a failing marriage in tow, and what's Draco to do? Leave him and his family alone? Not A Chance In Hell, and he knows what's That's like.

💀Day 31 💀

Title: A Death in the Shrieking ShackCharacters/pairing: Harry Potter/Severus Snape Rating: T Word count/length: N/A Warnings: Major Character Death Summary: Severus dies in Harry’s arms. Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: 60 - Severus dies at Nagini's attack. Among other things, a broken Harry Potter collects their memories together from the man's mind

💀Day 32 💀

Title: Turning the pages of my life (Wait until the reaper takes my life)Characters/pairing: Amelia Bones & Edgar Bones, Bellatrix Lestrange, Voldemort (Harry Potter), Death Eater Characters Rating: General Audiences Word count/length: Art + 260 words drabble companion Warnings: Main Character Death Summary: In the wake of Lord Voldemort’s return, Amelia Bones pays a visit to her brother. Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: 20 - Amelia Bones: Head Auror, fearless, ruthless, best solo duellist since Grindelwald himself. She hadn’t always been this way. She hadn’t always been alone.

💀Day 33 💀

Title: Nine Hundred and TwelveCharacters/pairing: George Weasley & Percy Weasley, George Weasley & Fred Weasley Rating: TWord count/length: 5k Warnings: Grief/loss, canonical character death, acceptance Summary: After long nights, impossible exams, and years of studying, my application to join the honourable ranks of those Wixen known only as Unspeakables has been accepted.

Dad could not be more proud. Mum bleeding cried at the ceremony. My siblings congratulated me for finally doing something other than grieving Fred. They all said this would be good for me, that this would be a fresh start.

They don’t know I did it all for you.

All for you, Fred. Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: 19 - George finds a time turner and will do anything to bring Fred back. He'll have to learn the hard way that what's passed has passed, and that time is not as malleable as it seems.

💀Day 34 💀

Title: Sartre Versus the StoicsCharacters/pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley Rating: Mature Word count/length: 19K Warnings: MCD, Depression, Suicide, Mourning Summary: When Harry Potter kills himself after the war, his friends and family are left to pick up the pieces he left behind Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: 94 -After the Second Wizardry War, Harry Potter commits suicide, and the whole world mourns, especially those closest to him.

💀Day 35 💀

Title: And yet it endsCharacters/pairing: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape Rating: E Word count/length: 4293 Warnings: Major Character Death, panic attack, depression, blood, pregnancy, self-harm Summary: “During the war, while the battle was raging on outside, on his dying breath, Severus Snape takes one last vow, and makes a deal that would further forever seal his fate. After all, what’s the worst thing that could happen?” Chapters: 1/1 -- Prompt: 46 - Character A sells their soul to the devil, and they are given ten years of health, wealth and happiness. Then the devil comes for their due.

💀Day 36 💀

Title: The Coffin BuilderCharacters/pairing: Tom Riddle | Voldemort/Ginny Weasley Rating: E Word count/length: 19,890 Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage Summary: Tom Riddle was a parasite. He had nested himself within her — not just her body but her soul as well. And yet, she couldn’t cut him out like rot. Chapters: 1 -- Prompt: 53 - Ginny has had part of Voldemort’s soul living inside her since COS and becomes a spy/assassin for Voldemort in DH

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citrus-blade · 4 months

Text

Time

Day 4 of Citrus Dreamnoblade Week with the prompt 'Angst'.

Link to AO3 or read it under here!

Techno had one goal and that was being with Dream, his lover from College. The two were scientists working in different fields in the hope of creating amazing stuff for the future. And Techno had done it and he decided to use his biggest creation, a time machine, to save the love of his life.

Story under the cut! Words: 5,429 Warnings: Character Death (multiple times), hit and run, car accident, mentioned explosion

There were events that were always supposed to happen and no matter what you did to prevent them, they would. Some of them were happy ones, other were unimportant for you but live saving for others and some were just painful.

And sometimes learning that those can’t be changed was the worst thing, because no matter what you tried, it didn’t work you. Techno had learned that the hard way, he had done the almost impossible.

Techno had loved Dream. He had loved him oh so much, that no poet could write a poem beautiful and heartbreaking enough to describe his love. And Dream had loved him back, Dream had been the one to stand by his side and support him when everyone called Techno crazy.

Dream was the reason Techno could reach his goal, before and after his death.

When Techno opened his eyes he found himself in an old building, run down and unused. Only the machine behind him looked new, looked like it didn’t fit in. It looked like something from the future, so Techno covered it up with a blanket he had carried in his arms before rushing out of the building. Rain fell, hard and unforgiving it dripped on his face, wetting his hair and beard.

Techno looked around, trying to find some orientation.

“You’re a human compass!” Dream had said, his arm wrapped around Techno’s as they walked through the alleys of the city. A shopping bag swung between them and Dream had a bright smile on his lips.

“I told you that I knew of a shop where you’d get new guitar strings without using all your money,” said Techno, earning a scoff from his boyfriend who rolled his eyes. “Didn’t I?”

“You did,” Dream admitted, shoving against the pinket lightly with a laugh. “I got everything I needed, is there something you wanted to get?”

“There is,” Techno announced, taking Dream’s hand in his own to move a bit faster, “we gotta hurry though, it’s gonna close soon!” And with a loud laugh Dream let Techno drag him through the narrow allays of the city. They didn’t care the people who looked weird at them, they were too happy to.

Techno blinked as he remembered that, the day Techno had sealed Dream’s fate. If today wouldn’t work, then that was going to be his next try. But he hoped today would be his last visit to the past, that it would be the last time where he returned with a broken heart.

He walked through the allays, hood over his face to make sure no one would look at him too weird. One misstep and he’d change more than wanted, he couldn’t risk it. There was just one reason for him to be here, the day that had ruined his life.

Back then he was a student living a good life, one that was supposed to go to NASA one day and change the world with his skills. With a full ride scholar ship and a part-time job by his professor he had no problem with money. Other than Dream.

He remembered how he had met the blond for the first time. It was a normal day filled with classes and Techno was in the laboratory afterwards, as almost every day. Without him noticing someone had stepped up behind him, looking over his shoulder and watching how Techno worked on a machine.

“That’s looks interesting,” the voice spooked Techno and made him jump in his seat, not much, but it was a flinch at least. When he turned in his chair the person had taken a step back and a bashful look on his face, a light blush visible. Cute. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“Well, you did,” Techno sighed, leaning back in his chair and eyeing the stranger. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“My name’s Dream,” the blonde introduced himself with a weak smile, stepping a bit closer, “I’m a student here, obviously, I just- ehm, I’m part of the physics department! And I, well, I read about you on the campus app and wanted to, like, you know, check what you’re working on right now.”

The young man had stumbled over almost every single word he had spoke, but it had some kind of charm. He was nervous for whatever reason and Techno told himself not to hope it was because of him, but simply because Techno was a stranger. He glanced over his shoulder at the machine and sighed, standing up.

“I don’t think you’re actually interested in it, most people say I’m crazy for working on it,” he said while cleaning his working space, making sure nothing is left behind. Dream watched him with big eyes, every little movement was caught by green eyes.

When Techno pulled a blanket over his project Dream cleared his throat, stepping up next to the other. “You don’t know that,” he said, eyeing the now hidden apparatus. “I’ve once tried to speedrun cloning my food cause I was hungry, can’t get much more crazy.”

Techno blinked at the man with wide eyes before he started laughing, Dream joining him. The two walked out of the room together, the light switched off. “That IS something crazy, and speedrunning it? Really?”

“You don’t even know how hungry I was, okay?” Scoffed Dream and earned an eye roll. “Now come one, what are you working on?”

A deep breath escaped Techno and he looked at Dream, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to tell him. All he could do was call him crazy and delusional like everyone else. “I am working on a time machine.”

There was silence for a few seconds, just them talking. When they arrived at the door of the dorm Techno looked up surprised to see a smile on Dream’s face. “That sounds pretty cool,” he just said with a shrug, chuckling when Techno held the door open for him. “And you think you can do it?”

Techno was still a bit shocked from the reaction and had to shake his head lightly before he could talk again. “I mean, I am trying so…”

“That’s really cool, I hope you can do it,” they stopped in front of a door on the second floor that lead into a hallway with dorms. “If you ever need help with that ask me, I will do whatever I can.”

Those words had meant a lot to Techno back then, they still meant a lot. Dream had been the only person who didn’t laugh at Techno’s dream, who had just encouraged him and, later on, helped him any time he could.

The two eventually started working together, even though sometimes all Dream could do was bring Techno something to eat or remind him to stay hydrated. But that was more than enough, more than anyone else had offered and more than Techno had ever expected from anyone. And with every new breakthrough and every new step Dream was there.

He had truly believed that Techno could do it, kept telling him that his hard work would pay out in the end. And the best days were the ones when Dream was just there with him, when he sat at the table and read a book or worked on his own stuff for his classes. When all he provided was his presence, that was when Techno got the most stuff done.

Finally, he had arrived at the spot, a normal looking road crossing point with a traffic light. Not many cars drove here, he had been here so many times already and was never able to change the outcome. Not by calling the police and warning them, not by sending the man behind the wheel a threat not to drive that day.

Nothing had ever worked. This time it just had to, he was running out of ideas.

He still had ten minutes for them to appear, ten minutes to prepare himself from stopping the love of his life to die. Ten minutes usually weren’t too long, but when you knew what you were about to witness it seemed like forever. The rain didn’t stop, it was something he could never influence, the rain was harsh and real and unstoppable.

He checked his clock just to be on the safe side, watched the people pass by without them sparing him a second glance. Some of his old classmates ran by, fleeing from the rain without knowing that Techno had done it, he had proofed them wrong. He had built the time machine everyone laughed about, everyone had said it was a dream no one could ever reach.

But he did it, he was the one person in existence who managed to built a time machine and for what? To safe his dead lover. During the time Techno had travelled two Dream and him had been together for three and a half years, close to finishing college and starting their actual life together. They had found an apartment and Techno was about to sell a patent of one of his machines.

The time machine was going to be a private project, he was looking for somewhere to store and work on it. Meanwhile Dream would be taken over by the laboratory he was working half time for at the time. Both of them had a bright future ahead of them, had it all planned through. And then it happened.

Techno stared at the street, people crossing over it without any care in the world. He checked his clock and just as he was about to look around he heard a voice he dearly missed.

“Techno!” Dream yelled as he ran after the man, the rain making their vision a bit blurred. “Wait for me!” And just in time Techno made it over the street, the traffic light turned red before Dream stood so he had to wait.

Techno stood on the other side with a winning grin, making Dream roll his eyes with a chuckle. “You’re just too lame!” He had shouted, hands around his mouth to make his voice louder. He wore a ring on his middle finger, Dream wore a matching one. It was what he had gotten Dream that one day.

Dream shook his head in amusement and mirrored the man’s stance. “Just you wait till I get you!” Both laughed, watching as some cars went by before they eventually had to stop, they never had to wait long to cross the street here, cares rarely drove here.

As soon as they had green they both ran to each other, ignoring the looks of the few people being there as well. They met in the middle and Dream fell in Techno’s arms, laughing loudly. Only when they knew the traffic light was about to change did they separate wand crossed the street together.

Then it happened, once at the side walk Techno turned around and his ring, due to all the water, slipped off. Dream watched it fall on the street, rolling onto it and without thinking, he had followed. Techno called after him, watched how his lover bent down to pick it up.

And then it happened, in a matter of a second a car came racing around the corner, not able to press the breaks in time., A crash, screams and a car that just drove away while Dream lay on the street, Techno’s ring next to him.

Everything was muted around Techno as he ran to his lover, kneeling down to him on the wet concrete. Dream’s eyes were close, mouth open with a weak breath. Around him people called the ambulance. Then Dream was taken to the hospital, his parents were called and waited together with Techno, all that just to get the news that they couldn’t do anything.

The man was later found by the police, questioned and taken in. He had forgotten to pick his daughter up from school and was scared of his wife – who had already threatened with divorce – to yell at him. Dream had lost his life because someone tried to safe a hopeless marriage.

Now Techno stood there, watched how Dream was held in Techno’s arms, how he wished that he had held him tighter, that he had told him how much he loved him. He wished that he had never gotten those dumb couple rings.

Seeing Dream hurt more with each time, seeing all the lost moments they would have shared in the future. But he was there to fix it, this was his chance to make everything better. He would safe his lover and return to the future with the man he loved in it.

He pulled the hood more over his face and got ready, watched as the ring fell off of Techno’s finger. Just as Dream had stopped on the middle of the road did Techno run up to him and pushed him away. The car came racing around the corner and Techno jumped away, glancing over his shoulder at Dream who had watched the car drive past with wide eyes.

The ring still lay on the concrete street and fast the Techno from the past pulled Dream away, talking to him. Surely he was asking if he was okay, checked him for any injuries. People gathered around them and Techno used the distraction to run off, away from the scene. He heard Dream yell for him, but he didn’t react, he had saved him and now he had to return home.

Stepping into the building Techno pulled the cloth from his machine and stepped inside, entered the date and pressed the button to sent him back. After around a minute the machine died down and Techno slowly opened the door. What he found was his laboratory, but it looked different.

Usually most of his stuff flew around on the tables and the floor, but now everything was put neatly where it belonged. Even his notes and scribbles for projects were in folders and sorted after dates. When he walked up to a table with a small project on it, something different than he remembered working on, he saw a picture standing there.

He gasped loudly as he looked at it, slowly picked it up with trembling hands. Tears gathered in his eyes as he saw Dream on the picture standing next to Techno, obviously a selfie taken by Dream himself. They looked around the age Techno was in, so forty. Dream had died when he was twenty-four, he had missed sixteen years with him, and now he was going to see him again.

Fast Techno used his phone to look at himself, surprised that his appearance had changed with the time travel. He now was the Techno he had always been in the timeline Dream had survived. Then he checked the time, it was evening and the sun must have been about to set.

Considering that this was his laboratory it should also be Dream’s and his home, just like in Techno’s normal timeline. He walked up the stairs and opened the door to the hallway and got greeted by a friendly looking one, not his more dark one. Jackets hung on the wall, shoes lay on the ground and pictures lined the walls.

“Dream?” He called out as he took off his own shoes, he walked towards the living room and found it empty. Then he turned to the kitchen and froze, eyes wide as he stared at the man standing in front of his stove, back turned to him. Fluffly dark blond curls placed on his head and a green shirt over his shoulder. There was a headphone over his ear and he could hear music coming from it.

Without much hesitation Techno walked up to Dream and wrapped his arms around his waist to pull him close. Dream flinched lightly before he relaxed again, laughing happily while pulling off the headphones. “Hey baby,” he giggled, his free hand coming up to stroke through Techno’s hair, his other occupied with stirring something that looked like potato soup.

“Hey,” Techno mumbled in his neck, inhaling his scent. Dream still smelled like he did back then, like home, like his future. Eventually Techno pulled his face away, kissing Dream’s cheek which made the man chuckle amused. “What you doing?”

“Your favorite!” Dream announced proudly, living the wooden cooking spoon for a second before using it to stir again. “Potato soup with some potato pieces and sausages!” He seemed so proud, Techno couldn’t stop looking at him and placed his cheek on his shoulder, knowing he must have looked like a teenager in love. And he felt like one, finally he felt like he could breath and love again. “You’re all cuddly today, everything fine?”

“Yeah, just perfect,” he said, leaning close and pressing a kiss to Dream’s soft lifts, feeling them press back. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you, too,” Dream echoed his words, eyes mirroring Techno’s feelings just as strong. He couldn’t believe he had missed sixteen years of this, of domestic bliss and the perfect life. “Carefully, I need to get some bowls.” As he moved away Techno stepped back to sneakily look through their home, seeing all the pictures and a cat tree in the corner. So Dream had convinced him to get a cat, of course Techno had given in.

He turned when Dream was holding a pink bowl with pigs on it towards him, filled with hot potato soup and a spoon inside. Dream’s bowl was green with cats on it, fitting. Together the two sat down at the kitchen island, talking about nothing and the world. Techno’s free hand was on Dream’s thigh all the time, stroking over the jeans he was wearing, probably from work. Here and there Dream placed his own hand over Techno’s squeezing before he returned to his soup.

Techno hadn’t laughed like that in years, hadn’t felt this alive in years. Demanding kisses from Dream was his favorite thing, the blond would always meet him halfway, always smiling into the kiss. Eventually they got interrupted when Dream’s working phone beeped. He frowned when he looked at it, groaning loudly as he read the message he got.

“What is it?” Techno asked, the empty bowl standing in front of him.

“That was a co-worker of mine, something isn’t right with one of our mixtures and we have to fix it till tomorrow morning,” Dream told, already standing up and gathering his stuff. Techno watched him and eventually stood up to follow the man to the door. “Sorry, let’s continue talking tomorrow?”

“You think you will be back for breakfast?” As Techno asked Dream pulled on his jacket, shoes already on. “I can cook you something.”

“I hope so,” sighed Dream and leaned against his husband, yeah, Techno had seen their rings and there were pictures of their wedding on the walls. “Could be that I’ll be too tired for breakfast.”

“That’s okay,” Techno kissed Dream’s head, inhaling his scent once more. “I’ll put it in the oven to keep it warm or just make you something new.”

“What a waste,” joked Dream, smiling up and getting on his tiptoes.

“Anything for you,” whispered Techno before meeting his lips in a short kiss, smiling into it. “Be careful, alright?”

“Always,” Dream promised before grabbing his bag, one look over his shoulder and a wave later and the man was gone. Techno took a deep breath, all this was overwhelming but in a good way. He was happily married to the love of his life and they seemed to have an amazing life together.

He moved to the kitchen to clean the bowls and put the leftovers of the soup into the fridge. A meow made him look down and a white cat was pressing up against his leg, meowing even more. When he made eye contact with it the cat walked over to it’s empty bowl and Techno looked through the cabinets to find it’s food. Once he found it he filled the bowl and watched the cat eat for a bit.

The rest of the evening was like any other he had lived through the past few years. He took a shower, watched a movie and then went to bed, just now he knew that someone would come home to him, greet him and would sleep with him. He couldn’t wait to hold Dream in his arms again, to whisper about everything and nothing and to kiss every part of his body.

Eventually he fell asleep, thinking about the love of his life, just like he had done every night.

But fate was cruel.

In the middle of the night he was woken up by his phone and with blurry eyes he took it and looked at the contact. It said ‘Wilbur’, he was a friend of Dream and him and he remembered that back than they worked in the same laboratory. Maybe that didn’t change, but why was he calling him?

With a bad feeling he accepted the call, immediately hearing how more people were around Wilbur, yelling around. “Wilbur?” Techno called into the phone, sitting up, “why are you calling me? It’s almost three am!”

“Techno!” Wilbur yelled back, breathing heavily and sniffing. Was he crying? Why would he be crying? “Something happened in the laboratory. I was just gone for a cigarette outside, but then the alarm went off and-” he had to stop himself to take a deep breath, Techno didn’t dare say a word. “An explosion, some chemicals reacted like they weren’t supposed to, some small mistake. Dream, he stood right where it happened and… Techno, I can’t even say it…”

“Then don’t,” Techno pleaded, he didn’t want to hear it, his whole body was trembling and he didn’t want to hear it! “Don’t say it, Wilbur, please…”

Wilbur sniffled again and with every second Techno tried to rationalized it, tried to find a reason why this was happening again. “Dream is… He didn’t survive the explosion.”

And Techno was breaking down, clutching the bedsheets under him, letting the phone just fall. Why, why why?! Why was this happening? Why did Dream need to die? Was it because of him? Was is that Dream and Techno just weren’t supposed to be? Was Techno dooming Dream’s fate?

Techno took a deep breath and lifted the phone back to his face. “I will fix this Wilbur,” he said, just gaining a confused and broken sound from the man on the other side back before he hung up. Fast Techno jumped out of bed and got dressed again, checking on the cat once more before running down the stairs once more. He practically jumped into the time machine, adding a date he hadn’t travelled to before.

That was his last chance on saving a life that was worth so much more than he would ever be. This was his chance on saving someone who would fill the world with love and hope. So when the time machine brought him to the time he wanted he stepped out and pulled the cloth over it before running out of the building.

He followed a path he only knew too well, he had walked it for years and was something that was burnt in his brain. He couldn’t forget it even if he wanted to. Soon the college buildings were in his view and he sought out the building he knew he’d find himself in. Just freshly started college, just in two weeks he’d meet Dream for the first time. Classes had just started.

In order to not seem to suspicious Techno stopped running when entering the building, glancing around to make sure no one would see him as he walked down the steps to the laboratories. One, two, three doors down in the hallway and he found himself, hunching over robot parts and trying to build something for his first class.

Carefully he sneaked inside, closing the door behind him and pulling the hood down, making sure he wouldn’t recognize himself. Then he stepped closer, his younger self put down the soldering iron and turned, yelling when Techno grabbed him by the collar of hit shirt and pressed him down on the table.

He fought himself before he had enough and slammed him on the table once more, getting the younger Techno to calm down. “What do you want you freak!” He yelled out, holding onto the older one’s wrists in the hope of keeping his hands away from his throat.

“Listen, I am here to help you!” Techno whisper yelled back, “so stop struggling and listen to me!”

“Why should I believe some old psycho who sneaks up on me?!”

“I know you are working on a time machine,” Techno answered, getting his younger self to actually stop struggling, at this point in the semester Techno hadn’t told anyone of his big plans. “And I know you will be successful.” He let go of the younger Techno and stepped back, now that he had calmed down.

His younger self still looked at him in suspicion, eyes narrowed as he looked him up and down. “...Who are you?” He asked but Techno just shook his head before stepping closer again, pulling a picture out of his phone case. One he had always with him and held it out to the younger one.

“This person here,” he pointed to the picture, it was a photograph of Dream, he looked into the camera with a gentle smile and a weak blush on his freckled cheeks. “You have to stay away from him,” he said, voice stern so he came over as serious, he had to make sure this plan would work.

“What? Who is this?”

“His name is Dream and he is a chemical student here, he will come up to you in around two weeks and will try to befriend you,” explained Techno, telling the truth for the first part before he started to lie. “This Dream will ruin your life, he will first pretend to support you in your plans before turning on you and try to slow you down. Do you understand? Turn him down immediately and your life will be less painful and much calmer.”

The younger Techno eyed the picture before he nodded, believing hos older self. “...But, why? It looks like I finished the time machine when you’re here and can tell me this.”

“Yeah, with, like, forty you’ll finish it, only so late because of Dream,” Techno lied through his teeth, it hurt, it hurt so badly to lie about the sweetest person he had ever met. But this was for Dream, to hopefully safe him. “And before you can sell the patent he will steal whatever he can grab and run off with it, so you miss parts and he can sell them.”

Younger Techno gasped loudly in shock and now glared at the man in the photograph. “Understood, I’ll turn this traitor down once he thinks about looking for me.”

“Good,” Techno sighed, putting the picture back into his phone case. “Don’t tell anyone about this conversation. Never ever mention it to anyone and pretend it didn’t happen, only the Dream part is important, alright?”

“Obviously,” scoffed the younger one, rolling his eyes. “I’m just happy that I will be successful, not that I ever doubted myself. Still nice to know.”

Techno snorted at that before he turned around and left. He knew that had been a lie, he had doubted himself a lot and it was Dream who had pushed him back on the right track. Now he had to go through it without him, but he’d be okay, he’d be alright as long as Dream would be.

Slowly he walked back to the building, on his way he had seen Dream once, walking with Wilbur, laughing loudly. God he would miss him, he had no clue how his life was going to look like with Dream being completely void in it. They had shared their friend group and partnered up in some classes they had together.

None of this was going to happen now and it scared Techno. He stepped into the machine, closed his eyes and pressed the button to return to his time. When he stepped out the building was different. Not run down and it was obvious Techno’s laboratory to work in, but it looked so much more… lifeless.

Slowly he walked up the stairs to his apartment and walked inside, sighing at the obvious single apartment. Everything looked so.. dull, like Techno hadn’t enjoyed his life in a long time. He let himself fall onto the couch, sighing loudly and rubbing through his face before pulling out his phone.

He had contact with some people from college, friends he had shared with Dream. Were they also friends with him or did they have no contact to the blond? Most messages were pretty normal, yet miserable. Just small talk rarely something exciting. Until he had found a message from Wilbur that he had sent a few weeks ago.

It was a link to a website that included the word ‘Dream’ and maybe, just maybe, it was his Dream. He clicked on it and an article from a scientistic magazine opened, in there was an interview with Dream. Looked like the blond was being successful and had discovered some new chemicals to mix, that would bring something good to the world of science.

Techno was too tired to actually understand what was talked about, all that was important was that Dream was alive. He wasn’t hurt or anything, no car had hit him and no explosion had happened. He was breathing and smiling, living a good life. In the article was also written that Dream was now one of the top scientists in the company he worked for which was located in the same city that Techno lived in.

Relief filled Techno’s body. He had finally done it, he had saved Dream. And all it took was keeping him away from Techno, all he had to do was break his own heart to safe the one of his lover. Techno and Dream would never life a happy live together, but they would both live. And that mattered the most.

The following weeks were dull and normal, Techno worked on projects and kept the time machine covered under the cloth. It had no use any more, he didn’t want to know what people would do knowing of it’s existence. It was safer to keep it hidden away from the world.

One day he was on his way home with a bag of groceries, it was raining and he was keeping himself dry with an umbrella. He looked forward, surrounded by people as he walked on the side walk before coming to a familiar traffic light. Around him everything seemed gray scaled, like nothing really mattered at all. With the rain season everything seemed a little bit number.

When the lights turned in favor of the pedestrian everyone moved at the same time. And Techno almost didn’t notice it, he almost didn’t see him. They walked right past each other, not even sparing a glance. Only when both had arrived at the other side of the road crossing did they stop and turn.

There he stood, Dream. A bag over his shoulder and a green umbrella on his right hand. His hair was just as curly as Techno remembered and looked golden even in the gray weather. Green shiny eyes looked at Techno as if he tried to remember him, as if all those memories of his other versions were trying to break through.

Techno swallowed heavily, he wished he could walk up to him and talk to him. Wished he could tell him how much he loved him, how much he missed him. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around the smaller man and hold him close, show him how much he loved him, made him feel safe.

But then the cars rushed by and Techno remembered that he couldn’t. They weren’t meant to be, not in this life. So when he turned around and continued walking, tears running down his face, did he pray to whatever was out there to grand them a happy ending in their next life. To bring them together and not separate them.

Because Techno loved Dream and he was sure he would do that in any universe, even when it tore him apart.

#citrus dnb week #dreamnoblade #dnb #citrus writes #detailed warnings are on ao3 in tags so better go read there tbh

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mask131 · 9 months

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Simple facts about Ancient Egypt (2)

Last time, we talked about generalities - history, geography, pharaohs, government... Today, let’s look at some of the main social classes and jobs in Ancient Egypt!

As I said before - warning, these are oversimplified and general facts for a short and easy introduction and comprehension to Ancient Egypt. These are not in-depths studies or analysis, and I might have gotten things wrong, so beware!

SCRIBES

# Scribes, from the Latin “scribere” (to write) were public writers: they were tasked with redacting administrative documents, with the job of accountants of the State, but they were also tasked with writing things such as letters, poems or fictional tales. The job of a scribe went from father to son, and every future scribe had to undergo a very strict and difficult apprenticeship. To be a scribe was a very envied position, for it was a privilege given only to boys – and to the wealthiest of boys! The material of the scribe was quite simple, all contained in a wooden case: there was just a reed pen, and two blocks of ink, one red and one black – to write, the scribe plunged the tip of his reed pen into water, and then rubbed it against either the black or red ink-block.

# Because ink was we know it today didn’t exist back then in Egypt – their “ink” was actually blocks of compact powder. Black ink was created with soot or crushed coal, whereas red ink was created with ochre. Similarly, the Ancient Egyptians did not write on paper but on papyrus – a type of material that shared its name with the type of Nile-reed it was created from. (Fun fact, the name “paper” does come from “papyrus”). Creating papyrus was done by cutting and peeling the papyrus-reed into thin slices, that were then gorged with water, placed in crosses layered on top of each other, and then brutally hit with a hammer until it became one uniformed page (the sap of the reed and the water fused together to form a sort of “glue” holding the stripes together). Finally, the page was thinned down, and smoothed with wooden items.

# Papyrus was however very costly. So, to not lose all of one’s money, Ancient Egyptians wrote for every day needs on pottery fragments or wooden planks covered in plaster. Pupils in schools for example wrote on broken pieces of bowls or vases. The papyrus, so precious, was kept exclusively for law texts and religious texts. To create 5 scrolls of papyrus, of roughly 10 meters each, a man had to work for a whole year!

# Most scribes worked for the government: one of their job was to do note down the state and quantity of the harvests each year before calculating the taxes based on the amount of harvest. They were also the accountants of the state, as well as the ones charged with writing down the laws and the orders of ministers. Other scribes rather worked for temples, where they engraved magical incantations on amulets ; and a third group acted as clerks in tribunals.

# Learning to become a scribe might look easy, since what you need to do was just copy texts all day long… But in truth it was a very hard thing! Our alphabet only has two dozen letters or so – the Egyptian scribes had to learn thousands of different signs to write down the texts, and they had to learn how to write them on every material possible. If you wanted to be a scribe, you had to go a “scribe school” – pupils usually went there are the age of ten, and left at fifteen. After these five years of studies, the scribes had to undergo an internship of five years in either the administration, in a temple or with a notary. After this internship, would-be-scribes had a final exam – and it was only then they could become certified and testified scribes, at twenty years old. Scribe school was notably a very harsh and unpleasant place – a common saying among scribe teachers was “Students have ears in the back, and these ears only listen when you hit them”. Yes, corporal punishment was a standard method of teaching in these schools – if students didn’t pay attention, spoke with each other instead of copying their texts, or wrote a hieroglyph wrong, they were immediately beaten up with a stick. In fact, to prevent the students of scribe schools from leaving unsupervised, the teachers attached to their ankles wooden blocks! Yes, just like the cartoon prisoner with the iron ball around their ankle!

# All scientists were scribes, but not all scribes were scientists (or scholars). You see, to become a scientist or a scholar you had to learn how to write and read – and to do that, you needed to become a scribe. But many scribes stopped there and did not pursue their studies further – only some decided to take on a specific field of expertise (medicine, architecture, astronomy) and thus became more than just “regular” scribes.

# Scribes wrote their text in a very specific way. They sat cross-legged on the ground, placed the papyrus they wrote on their loincloth – that was pushed by their knee very strongly on each side, so it would be a flat surface to write onto. Scribes also wrote with their pen standing up, very still – so that they wouldn’t do any stain or mess up a line, because their ink took a very long time to dry.

# Scribes were the object of admiration, but also jealousy, from the everyday ordinary Egyptian man, because scribes were very well paid AND were exempt of taxes. Plus, their work was a non-manual one, unlike the other Egyptian men who were peasants or craftsmen. This was notably why in Egyptian art scribes are always depicted with a potbelly or fat rolls – thanks to their wealth and effortless job that demanded them to sit around all day, they were the only inhabitants of Ancient Egypt who could easily become fat. In return, the scribes themselves were very proud of their position and status – and this often made them quite arrogant, according to the ancient texts. One of the favorite entertainments of the scribes was to mock other jobs or workforces of Egypt by telling funny stories or jokes about them.

PRIESTS

# Do not get things wrong: in Egyptian religion, only the pharaoh can act as an intermediary between the gods and men – he is the true voice and right hand of the gods. But then, you’ll ask, why are there priests? Well it is simply because the pharaoh is one human man, and cannot be everywhere in the country – so the pharaoh delegates his powers to the priests, who act in his name. This is something important to remember: Ancient Egypt was a form of theocracy, and the priests did not get their power from the gods but from the pharaoh. Though the priests’ role WAS to serve the gods. Ancient Egyptians and Ancient Egyptian gods had a deal worked out: the priests would tend to their need, and take care of them, through various festive celebrations and everyday rituals, and in exchanged from being tended to, the gods ensured the protection and wellness of the city/region/country they were worshiped in. As easy as that. But this explains why for example priests were not depicted on murals or paintings of temples: priests were not perceived as worthy of being depicted alongside the gods, because in the Egyptian mindset, priests are just servants – or rather some sort of religious bureaucrats. Only the pharaoh, the one and true emissary of the god, and himself equal to the gods, could be painted on the walls of temples.

# The role of priests, just like the one of scribe, usually was passed from father to son. Usually priests began their apprenticeship as children, studying at the school and at the library of the temple alongside scribes. Given being a priest was a very prestigious function (again, quite like scribes), some people rather could buy a priest job with a heavy sum of money, or it could be given by the pharaoh himself as a reward, to those that served him well and faithfully.

# In every great temple and religious center of Egypt there was, at the top of the priestly hierarchy, a great priest, or “first prophet”, named directly and personally by the pharaoh. This great priest held authority over all of the other priests, and also played a political role in the city he was in charge of. Below him came the “divine fathers”, important priests that took care of the rituals and walked in front of their god’s statue during processions. Finally, at the bottom of the hierarchy, there were the “purified ones”, whose job was to carry the god’s statue during procession, to clean up the temple every day, and to do all the chores. Speaking of cleanliness, being pure was a very big deal for Ancient Egyptian priests – they usually took four baths a day in the lake’s temple, or rather two baths during the day and two baths during the night. It was a way for them to stay “pure”.

# Priests had a LOT of work and so, to be able to rest and not die of exhaustion, there were “teams” of priests formed in temples. Each team was to work in the temple during one month while the other went to live into town, and after one month a new team went in. In smallest temple there were only two teams, each doing half of the year, but in the biggest temple, there could be up to four priest teams. And since the priests were to live in the town quite regularly, and couldn’t possibly live alone (for Egyptians a man couldn’t just live all on his own, it was not a good or healthy lifestyle), the priests were allowed and even encouraged to marry, so that when leaving the temple they could have a wife and children to return to – children that in turn would become priests once their father grew too old.

PEASANTS

# Peasants formed the bulk of the Egyptian population, and they were a key part in the wealth of the nation: without them and their constant toil, Egypt couldn’t have existed. But despite their immense utility, priests were very poor and not respected, forming the lower rank of the social hierarchy. Most of them acted like serfs, in service of great landowners, temples, or the ministers of the pharaoh. The comparison to serfs is quite relevant as, just like serfs, Egyptian peasants did not own their lands, and they could be sold just alongside the land they were dependent.

# The fields of the peasants were actually really small, roughly the size of a vegetable garden today. They were delimited by big and heavy rocks – every year, bureaucrats of the realm checked after each flood is these rocks hadn’t been move. The peasants also had to swear an oath to never move secretly the stones to augment their field – if they were caught doing that and lying about it, they had their two ears cut off!

# Scribes went three times a year into every peasant’s home. A first time to measure their field, a second time once the cereals ha d grown – to evaluate the harvest and calculate future taxes based on this hypothetical harvest – and a third time during the harvesting, to collect the taxes. Of course, on this third visit, scribes were escorted by armed soldiers. If a peasant refused to pay the taxes, he was beaten up, and/or his house and tools were taken away from him – sometimes he was even thrown into prison. According to some tales, the most extreme cases of punishment had peasants that did not pay their taxes being beaten up, tied with a rope, and thrown at the bottom of a well in front of his wife and children – who in turn were imprisoned in his place! Better pay the taxes the, you say? Well, the problem was that the taxes were calculated during January, two to three months before the actual harvest. If any sort of disaster happened, and they lost their harvest, they still had to pay the taxes as if they had a full harvest…

# No need to tell you that the peasants’ worst enemy (outside of the locust) was the hippopotamus! Hippopotami were considered a true disaster, since in a single night, a hungry hippo could eat up to sixty kilos of plants (132 pounds). If a small group of hippos came by a field in the night, in the morning nothing was left… So peasants hunted and killed hippos without pity or mercy.

CRAFTSMEN

# Craftsmen were the middle-class of Egypt, coming below the scribes and bureaucrats, but above peasants. Craftsmen worked numerous types of material: stone, wood, iron, precious metals (such as gold), leather, textiles and glass. Craftsmen never worked alone – they were always forming groups and teams, part of workshops financed by the government, or by a temple, or by a rich family. Each workshop gathered various specialists – a carpenter, a painter, a smith, a jeweler, a stone-sculptor…

# The quality of a furniture could be identified by the type of wood used: good quality furniture was done by sculpting cedar, a tree that was important from the Lebanon. High quality furniture was also often decorated with ivory or ebony. Lower quality furniture however, was usually sculpted in sycamore trees or palm trees – a wood so friable they were often covered in plaster to just be able to stand up and hold any kind of weight!

# The Egyptians discovered how to make class towards 1500 BCE. They created it with sand, salt, and they always colored their glass with metallic pigments – an Egyptian would have never created a transparent piece of glass. Egyptians loved colors, and so their glass work was always red, blue or yellow.

# Potters were considered to be “different” from other craftsmen. More specifically they were thought to practice a very “common” craft. Scribes liked to mock them by describing them as dirty, and always covered in mud. Potters did not work in the royally-sponsored workshops I described above – they rather worked all alone, for their own. They built most of everyday objects: vases, plates, cups, jars… Potters usually worked with the clay of the Nile, sculpted by hand (at first, then the potter’s wheel was invented), and then left to dry up in the sun before being “cooked” in an oven. Their other technique was to create a material by mixing sand with water, salt, ashes and lime – this substance was then placed inside molds, and placed in an ove.

# Pearls in Ancient Egypt are a fascinating thing, because Egyptians did not know about the existence of oysters – or if they did, they couldn’t access any of them. So, Egyptians created their own pearls, by polishing stones so much they were reduced to very small spheres, that were then pierced to be placed onto necklaces.

# All the gems and precious stones used by Egyptians (the red carnelian, the purple amethyst, the turquoise and the blue agate – plus gold of course) were extracted from mines located in the desert, and in which criminals and law-breakers were sent to work (because working in these mines often killed the miners). The favorite gem of the Egyptians, the lapis-lazuli, was rather important from where today’s Afghanistan is located. However, faience/earthenware was very common among Egyptians precisely because with its blue-green color it could look like emeralds or turquoises, while being much MUCH less costly. This is why there were a lot of faience jewels in Ancient Egypt – they were basically for those who wanted to look good without having the means to.

#ancient egypt #scribes #peasants #egyptian religion #egyptian priests #ancient egyptian crafts #craftsmen #ancient egyptian society

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