#also il blonde now

[rose-pearls]

Ciao potresti fare Luke castellan x fem reader dove il lettore fa ingelosire Luke ? Grazie !

Hi! I loved this request so here it is! Hopefully you like it :))

I am also thinking of writing for Clarisse so if you have any request you can always send them!

Request: a Luke x reader where the reader makes Luke jealous

Main taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open for every fandom)

The Camp had been plain chaos in the last few days, the reason for that was capture the flag. The infamous game had taken place yesterday and the blue team had once again won, with Annabeth as your leader. The girl was smart, but you also had the best swordman on her team.

Luke Castellan. You had fallen for the boy the moment you met him, but he never seemed to reciprocate the feelings. He was handsome, everyone with eyes could see that but he was also kind and sweet. He had helped you a lot when you arrived, feeling lost until your mother, Athena claimed you. After being claimed the two of you still talked a little bit but not as much.

“Oh, Luke you are so funny.”, you hear Claire say as she starts to giggle and curling a whisp of hair around her finger. The boy soaks up the attention of course, smirking back at her.

“I can see you glaring at her, maybe try to be more subtle,” you hear Annie say, making you look at her and let out a groan.

“I know, I really am an idiot, right? To believe that something could happen with him,” the younger girl looks conflicted at your words, but you shake your head.

“There you two are, I have been looking for you everywhere,” Percy says as he drops on the seat next to Annabeth, making the two of you looking at him with wide eyes.

“We are literally at a table in the middle of the camp, how hard can it be to find us?”, Annie asks him, and you can’t help but laugh quietly as the two of them start to bicker again, they really were like an old married couple.

You hear the same annoying giggle once again and try not to smash your potatoes even harder, but the jealousy seems to be reaching a boiling point. It was stupid to feel like this, particularly when nothing had happened between you and the Hermes boy. The girl was also a daughter from Aphrodite, she was stunning.

The clearing of a throat makes you look up and you find Annie and Percy looking at you with equally worried gazes.

“What?”, you can’t help but ask, feeling self-conscious at the stares.

“I think that you just mashed these potatoes even more then I thought was possible,” Annie says, and you look at your previously mashed potatoes who were now looking a bit liquid.

“Remind me to never be on your bad side,” Percy says, and you shake your head in response, a sigh leaving your lips.

“Sorry, I just had something on my mind,” you tell them, hoping that the two of them would drop the subject but you were in front of Annie and Percy, so it wasn’t going to happen.

“Is that something, the blond Aphrodite daughter hanging off Luke’s arm?”, Percy asks, and Annabeth slaps him with a glare making him look at her with wide eyes.

“It is. Don’t get me wrong I’m sure she is a great girl but yes, it is them on my mind and her giggling every five seconds,” you tell them, making the two of them looking at you in sympathy. 

“Why don’t you make him jealous?”, Percy asks, and both Annabeth and you turn to look at the boy with wide eyes.

“Wait what?”, you can’t help but ask, waiting for some more explanation.

“It doesn’t seem like Luke is really interested in the conversation they are having, but every time he sees you turn around, he flashes her a dazzling smile. So, play his game and show him that you can also flirt with other people,” Annabeth looks unhappy with Percy’s answer, but you can’t help but think it through, maybe it would show you if he could possibly be interested or not.

“You’re right,” you say suddenly, cutting off the two.

“Wait what?”

“Really?”, Percy can’t help but ask before a proud smile appears on his lips, making Annie scoff.

“You can’t really be entertaining his stupid idea!”, you say but you shrug your shoulders.

“I need to know if he is interested or not, otherwise I’ll turn crazy. This way I know and if he isn’t I can move on,” you tell her calmly while she looks at you with wide eyes.

“I can’t believe you are doing this,” she says, and you roll your eyes at her words.

“We can’t all have a Percy looking at us with puppy dog eyes,” you tell her with a wink, while the boy seems to wake up from his gazing, a scarlet brush coating his cheeks.

“Now, the only thing I need to find is the person to make Luke jealous with,” Annabeth sighs but a playful smirk is playing on her lips.

“I know one person that will drive him mad,” this makes both Percy, and you turn to look at her.

“Who?”, Percy and you ask at the same time.

“Max, from the Apollo cabin. They arrived at the same time and there has always been some kind of rivalry between the two of them,” the whispers as the three of you are huddled together to prevent someone overhearing. 

“Wait, isn’t that the guy who nearly beat Luke with the sword?”, Percy asks, and you try to remember the last time there was a contest.

“Keyword, nearly,” Annabeth says, still Luke’s number one supporter.

“That is perfect!”, you say and the two of them look at you with suspicious eyes.

“What do you mean?”, Percy asks after a moment.

“I’m going to ask Max for some pointers on my sword fighting, that way I can get close to him for a reason, and it is also something that will get Luke’s attention.”

“He will go crazy seeing Max giving you some directions,” Annabeth says, looking unsure but there is a sparkle of mischief in her eyes.

“Alright team let’s get this quest on the road,” Percy says excitedly, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Now you are going to Max and the both of us will make sure that Luke is watching!”, Percy tells you as he starts pushing you off your seat.

“Good luck!”, Annie yells and you glare at her as a few campers look at you.

You try to nervously put your shirt right and your hair a bit better before telling yourself that this was ridiculous and just marching towards Max.

“Max, hi,” the boy turns to look at you, he looks surprised but then again you never really talked.

“Hi, what brings you here?”, he asks kindly, and you let out a nervous laugh.

“You are probably going to think that I am crazy, but I need some tips on sword fighting? I’m not really the best with the sword and capture the flag is in a few weeks.”, you tell him, feeling suddenly incredible stupid.

The boy seems unsure for a moment before a charming smile comes up.

“Of course, I’ll try to help you in the best way I can. Although I must say I’m surprised that you didn’t asked Luke for some pointers,” you knew he was going to ask this, after all you had never really interacted with him.

“Well, he is quite busy, you know knew kids coming in, the Hermes cabin and then Claire,” you say and Max nods in understanding.

“Lucky for you I have all afternoon,” he says, suddenly closer than he had been before, making you look up into his dazzling blue eyes.

“Here’s your sword,” he whispers, and you clear your throat before taking it.

“Thank you!”, you say, trying to keep your voice normal but it comes out a little squeaky.

--

“This is even better than a movie,” Percy says while Groover nods in agreement.

“Athena girl has enough of the Hermes boy flirting with other girls, so she goes and take a chance on an Apollo boy. Will the Hermes boy realize what he is losing, or will she end up with the Apollo boy?”, Groover whispers and Percy snorts at the words, while Annabeth shakes her head, a smile on her lips.

“Well looks like we won’t have to wait too long how that will end.”, she says as she sees Luke marching, or stomping, towards the two teenagers who had been talking. She had seen Luke looking at her half-sister for some time now but as Max put his hands on her waist to put her in position it seemed too much for Luke.

“And there goes the Hermes boy!”, Percy whispers, the three of them looking with avid attention.

“What in the Gods name are you three watching like a television show? And is that popcorn?”, Clarisse says, for once not looking like she wants to murder them.

“We are watching that show,” Groover says while pointing at Luke arriving towards the two others.

“Oh shit, this is going to be good. Move your little asses I want front row to Max getting his ass beaten,” Clarisse says with a smirk, but not before stealing some popcorn.

“It is getting heated,” Annabeth says, feeling unsure for once at the decision she made of letting you go towards the Apollo boy.

“Luke tries to push him but no of course she gets between them.”, Clarisse says, looking disappointed that the Hermes boy hadn’t slapped the Apollo kid. 

Max tries to put his hand on your shoulder while speaking but before he can Luke brings you to his side, putting you behind him and glaring at the boy in front of him.

“Touch her again and this time I will cut your hand off,”, they hear Luke say in a warning tone making them all let out a collective gasp.

“Get him Castellan!”, Clarisse yells suddenly, making the three teenagers look into your direction.

“Shit he saw us, time to go!”, Percy yells and the four manage to scramble away before the Hermes boy can turn his frustration towards them.

--

“Luke, will you calm down please. He was just giving me pointers.”, she says for the second time, but he can’t find it himself to calm down.

The boy had his hands on her, and he can’t stop seeing his flirty smile and her shy one.

“Fine. I’ll leave you two then.”, he says, feeling so angry that he just wants to rip everything to shreds.

“Common, Luke,” he hears her say and silently he hopes that she is following him, and that she didn’t chose to stay with the idiot.

He feels her hand on his arm and stops as she lets out a sigh.

“Will you stop and talk for a moment?”, she says, and he takes a deep breath before turning around.

“Don’t you have a sword lesson to follow?”, he says, unable to hide the sarcasm at the words.

“I simply asked him because you were too busy flirting with Claire,” the name of the Aphrodite girl is said with a certain disdain, that Luke recognizes all too well from his own thoughts about Max.

“Are you jealous?”, the girl scoffs but Luke can’t help the wide smile that appears at her embarrassment.

“Like you weren’t just throwing a hissy fit over there for the whole camp,” she bites back and Luke chuckles in response, getting closer to her.

“I was jealous, I can openly admit that. Nearly wanted to rip his head from his body for barely touching your waist,” he admits, watching her eyes widen in surprise and with something else. 

“Fine, I was jealous about Claire and the attention you were giving her,” she says, looking like she wanted to say anything but that. Luke smiles as he gets even closer to her and brings his arm around her waist, making her look at him in surprise.

“I wasn’t interested in her, I just wanted to see how you reacted to me talking with her and I have to say it was quite the show,” the girl looks at him with wide eyes.

“You dick! I thought you were interested in her!”, she exclaims, and Luke can’t help but laugh at her words.

“How could I be interested in her when I have you in the back of my mind all the time,” he whispers, smelling her perfume as he got even closer to her.

“Good thing I haven’t been able to think about anyone else either,” she whispers back, and Luke can’t help but feel revived at the words.

“Max?”, he asks, wanting to make sure that she wasn’t just confused.

“It was a plan to make you jealous,” she whispers, her cheeks heating up in embarrassment and after a moment Luke realizes what she just said.

“You little minx, and I thought you were innocent!”, the words make her laugh as she curls her arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. Although it was fun to see you act all protective over me,” she whispers while biting her lip and Luke can’t help but look at her soft lips. 

“You drive me crazy darling,” he tells her before bringing her into a kiss, he holds her waist tightly and lets out a soft moan as she cards her fingers through his hair.

Unbeknownst to them five other campers are celebrating behind the trees.

“I told you this would work!”, Percy says, and Annabeth can’t help but agree.

“I thought he was going to rip my head off,” Max says, and the others snort in response.

“You were lucky she was there buddy,” Groover says while patting Max on the back.

“I don’t know about you guys but watching them kiss is not really my thing, let’s move out,” the others quickly agree at Annabeth’s words and leave their hiding place to go to the lake, leaving the two lovebirds alone.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy series #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan

[tnsophiaonly]

"A shift within reality hurts."

Devotees stated, feeling their body duplicate and travel within different realities.

Part 1, Part 4

TW:

Bad words, (word) graphic mentions of tearing limbs, uhm very bad bad writing (as always) and short (?)

—y—t—i—l—a—e—R—

Out of all the odds in your room, it has got to be that little mirror ball. It reflects your reflection.

It's like those things fortune tellers use to know your fortune? Like this -> 🔮

You don't know how or why you have that but you just kept it, what if you somehow need it soon?

—t—f—i—h—s—

The Zapolyarny Palace, a cold and magnificent establishment where the Cryo Archon, The Tsaritsa orders her subjects.

The Tsaritsa's orders were simple yet held so much meaning and danger, "The Creator has descended upon this lands, and has ascended back to thy's world, they have the answers to this world that we don't, the power and the position. They will be a critical need against Celestia. Bring them here, alive."

It echoes through the halls, the order, sharp and clear. The tinge of cold lingering in her voice.

The 11 Harbingers are currently in the Il Dottore's laboratory,

Only a certain ginger was excited, hopelessly waiting to be able to get to his creator's world.

"Could you cut it out already?!" A purple puppet punched a ginger's arm as the ginger won't shut up about the Creator.

Apparently, only Childe was a devotee, and some Fatui agents too. But the others can't be said the same.

Example.. well The Balladeer. The Balladeer, well is self explanatory...

—s—l—a—o—g—

On the other hand, researches among other nations were also moving, thrilled of the possibility of being in their creator's world.

After the spreaded news of the creator descending, and with the Oracle, '(S/M)' finally talking about the creator event,she has given out wisdom that those who are gifted are finally capable of ascending to the creator's world.

—n—i—a—p—

"Devotees and Acolytes, I, the creator's humble oracle, hereby knowledge that it is my utmost honor and privilege to deliver a message of the utmost significance, Our Grace, who has descended to bless the flowers and very terrestrial of Teyvat has ascended yet again, but now, with a way for us to reach that heaven. The time has finally come for all those who seek ascension, for the pathway to our heavenly paradise has finally opened. Only those who possess the strength and determination to overcome the rigors of the world shall emerge victorious and bask in the eternal glory of our Grace. Let us now offer ourselves in humility and devotion, for our purpose has been revealed. The paradise we seek is within reach, and we shall reap the rewards of our efforts in this life and the next. Come forth, and I shall guide you through this gateway, which will lead you to eternal bliss and utter contentment.." every exact word the creator's oracle spoke with every possible happiness and admiration. As they set off to Mondstadt, other nations were envious of the nation but as so still came either way, (S/N or M) has led them to the very Creator statue, sitting in mid air with its hands in offering,

The statue looked ethereal, but didn't match the Creator's actual look of graciousness, but then, no statue or anything can ever match the Creator can it?

As they stood, (S/M) walked slowly, then, the blonde traveler came in a swoop out of nowhere, in the creator's hands, with a look of shock and confusion, a transcendent mix of the color blue, pink and gold appears in a stair like form.

Guiding and ending to the heavens above. The traveller went up first, then disappeared on the top, turning into primogems, then (S/N) went, turning into primogems too, then archons, then gods (even non-playables), then adeptus, then just at this point every character playable, then vision users, then the last ones were the npc's some were able to get in, some were not.

All came except for the Fatui Harbingers, The Tsaritsa, fully knowing what they're up to, decided to let them be under orders, because unlike Dottore's machine, there's no knowing where this gate will take them. Then she went in, then turned into primogems.

—r—e—w—o—p—

Ever since the creator's descending, deceased ones lived again, La Signora became alive again, Teppei, Tomo... Etc... But those who perished without the Traveller with them were not saved again. They lived in peace yet.

No one knew how Scaramouche came back, but he was definitely with Dottore now, apparently, Dottore exchanged Scaramouche and his clones for the electro and Dendro gnosis to Nahida in the negotiation. That's what they were told then.

And here they were,

Here in Dottore's lab with the help of Sandrone's machinery and Dottore's knowledge and shit, they were able to create a machine to be able to shift.

It was understandable that some were skeptical about the choice, it had a 49.88% out of 100% chance to work isn't it? But, there was no choice but to comply, as it is strictly under the Tsaritsa's words that they should go through a legitimate machine that can bring them to the creator.

Then one-by-one they entered the metallic machine, then felt immense pain as soon as they got in,

It's as if their body was warping with another, their body ripping apart, limb-to-limb, if you were a normal person, it would feel like a punishment for trying to shift into another reality,

Unlike the gateway from the Creator statue that'll feel like going to heaven and all, this machine felt like you were a doll that's been ripped apart when two little girls fought over you, stretching your body apart that it ripped into two.

—-—-—-—

Holding on to your consciousness in class as math class/history class started, it was Monday again unfortunately, school started yet again, you just want to bop your head and cry, why are you studying when you die it's all just gonna get tossed away either way? You wasted your life struggling in stress, pain and all, but it was all for nothing, then again if you just sit there it's also considered as wasting your life isn't it?

Suddenly you want to go back to that strange dream, lucid dream..? Or..

"(Y/n).."

Your name was called out by a classmate, asking for an extra pen sheepishly. You stared at them, eyeing them, then went through your stationary and gave them an extra pen, with a thanks, they started scribbling again. You look at the board, oh shit, you had to take notes or else!

Then you started writing again, with few silly doodles on the pages,

As class goes on, you're unaware that the world you've just went to, has come to you.

Pls ignore to the fact that I disappeared then just appeared out of nowhere, class started becoming HORRID and really a pain in the ass-

+I was not satisfied with the things I wrote in here so it took so much time 😭

Anyways here ya go, I'm dropping another thing connected about this dw.

Taglist

(I still don't know what is this)

@khalhaimdad @yourlocalstranger123 @undecidingfate @urog1 @mmeatt

#genshin impact #yandere #yandere x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau #reader

[sgiandubh]

Anatomy of a lie: the French connection

With a very short day in sight at the office, I exceptionally go back to the whole Rash sightings colossal bullshit, for the sake of science. By now, we know *urv denied sending the submittal to Deux Moi: something I also expected to happen, in the context of her current feud with Miss Marple (way more reasonable and probably also way better informed).

Going back on memory lane, let's remember how the Rash Innuendo started. With this, conveniently kept under covers and then brought to light when Rash's name was out on the market:

I have one very important thing to comment: no one, no woman in her right mind, no matter if she is an art gallery owner, a lawyer, a teacher, a pop star on drugs or a fashionista wannabe (like Rash) would ever wear a baseball cap inside a French restaurant that is not: a) a trucker's pit stop joint on l'Autoroute du Soleil (the Sun Highway, A6/A7, relays Paris to Marseille) or b) a Burger King franchise in Seine-Saint-Denis (the infamous Neuf-Trois, or 93, after the INSEE's topographical code number for car plates and counties: in short, Paris's metropolitan area Bronx, if you wish, where all the riots start). Especially "a bougie" one: you do not have the slightest clue about real, living and breathing bourgeois French women (madame Mère's friends and also my own uni mates), quite a different species from the Californian one. Rash is anything but bourgeois, Canadian or not (yet a Canadian who lived in Paris and as such must be familiar with that code). I am talking string of pearls and tailleur Chanel/ petite robe noire and Vuitton bag and Louboutins. On a daily basis and even on the subway. Not baseball caps and scattered shopping bags at the Hôtel Costes.

No client of that restaurant (I forgot to mention yesterday) would ever take pictures with their phones. This informed me about the fact (FACT) you have never been to France, let alone ever set foot in a French high-end joint. French people prefer living their social life outside of their homes. When invited at someone's place for dinner, you can be sure you are, by now: a) intimate; b) a very close, trusted and valued friend; c) someone to be absolutely included in their social circle, for various reasons (high level networking dinners in Paris come to mind: something I know very well). So, restaurant it is for everything like: bantering, flirting, getting to know each other, spending quality time with witty and hysterically funny people, looking for a new job, getting a new job, looking for a new investor in your projects, the possibilities are endless. That being said, conversation at that table is sacred: your full attention must be there at all times, repartee and consistency are expected. No one, literally no one will spend their time scanning the room for a B-list actor kissing a blonde trophy woman in public, nonetheless. Read my lips: not a soul - they would be all engrossed in whatever the talk is about at their table.

The game shifted to a superior gear with this French speaking Anon:

Someone saw something louche/amiss in all this and reacted:

The French is NOT 'too good'. That French is semi-vulgar and provincial, as in the crude and pauper ils étaient l'un sur l'autre (I was expecting a je te jure/ I swear to you that never came and it usually does). And what to say about elle semble beaucoup plus réelle que les autres filles? It's Google Translate all the way. A real, walking talking French person would have said something along the lines of: elle semble beaucoup plus crédible/vraisemblable que les autres filles (she looks way more credible than the other girls), simply because réel(le), in spoken and written nowadays French, always applies to concepts, never to people: un réel plaisir (very contrived), for instance. C'est quelqu'un de réel means absolutely nothing and I would laugh like a drain if I heard someone telling me something like this. Last but not least, despite insisting it was a different Anon, they all seem to use the same words: they had lots of fun/ils s'amusaient vraiment. Something you use all the time, too. Of course.

Keep your hands off France, madam. Très facile de s'y prendre les pieds dans le tapis. And for once, I am not going to translate, since you speak it so well and I am sure you got the message.

PS: The closest to a real French bourgeois woman (last pics included) is C. And FYI, that is not my style: I dress like a preppy since I was 15 and I am very happy with it.

#fandom

[themidnightcrimson]

Shower. | e. olsen

summary: in which you take a shower with lizzie if you couldn’t guess that from the title you dumb fuck.

warnings: top!lizzie, usage of word mommy bc she is mommy, shower sex, fingering

this post is for 18+ only. minors: do not interact.

masterlist.

The night had come to an end. You and Lizzie had a proper date night for the first time in a while, since you both had been wrapped up in filming for a while and finally had time off. Lizzie, of course, took you to her absolutely favorite restaurant, il Buco, which had also become your favorite place during the course of your relationship.

After some of the best food you'd had in a while and many glasses of wine, you and Lizzie were pretty tired by the time you arrived home. You were already kicking your heels off once you got through the front door when you felt Lizzie's hands gently snake around your waist from behind. She pressed her nose into your hair, softly pulling you against her as she let her palms spread flat across your waist. You glanced down at her slender hands holding your stomach, the veins at the top of her hands wrapping up to her fingers like vines. She was wearing a few thin rings, and you felt the cool metal as you slid your hands over her soft ones.

Lizzie moved her chin to your shoulder, kissing the top of your ear and humming as she swayed you in her arms softly. A smile broke brightly across your face as you leaned into her, catching a glimpse of her short blonde hair resting over your shoulder. The buttons of her blazer pressed into your back as she held you close.

"I had a wonderful date with the most amazing person tonight," she whispered with a tone of a smile in her voice as she kissed the space under your ear that always made warmth blossom through your neck. "She's beautiful, funny, smart... I think I wanna marry her." She gave you butterfly kisses that tickled, and you giggled and squirmed away from her, but she held you close and chuckled huskily, bringing you in closer to her.

You turned around in her arms, wrapping your own around her shoulders as she moved her hands to your lower back and pressed your front into her. "I wonder who this lucky girl is," you remarked, Lizzie's red lips breaking into a pearly grin as she stared down at you.

"Maybe I'll introduce you sometime," Lizzie whispered, leaning down and softly pressing her lips against yours. She kissed you gently, carefully, but even with her caution, she noticed when she pulled away that her red lipstick had messily stained your lips. Lizzie raised her hand to gently cup your chin, letting her thumb graze your lips, wiping away the faint red stains.

Once she was done, she smiled softly at you, and you felt yourself break out into a yawn. "I'm probably gonna take a shower and head to bed," you said when your yawn was halfway over. You leaned forward and pecked Lizzie on the lips before turning to head to the shower, but Lizzie caught your hand and pulled you against her.

"Let me come with."

+

Lizzie's cool fingers glided against your back as she unzipped your dress. You had already disposed her of her clothes, and now she was pulling your dress to the floor. When she saw that you wore no undergarments, she hummed and pressed her bare skin against yours, reaching in front of you to cup your sex. You hissed at the feeling, leaning into her warm body as she massaged your clit.

"You looked so beautiful tonight," she whispered as she pressed a kiss to your shoulder. "As you always do." She moved your hair gently away from your neck so that she could press a soft kiss there that made you tremble. "I wanted to fuck you in the restaurant, you looked so good." Her hand delved deeper between your legs so that she could feel the pool of wetness there. "So wet for Mommy—so good."

You smiled at the nickname that you knew she adored. "It's all for you, Mommy."

Lizzie groaned and pulled you closer to her, letting her fingers rub your entrance teasingly. "I know it is. You're mine, all Mommy's girl, right baby?"

You hummed in response, feeling hot and bothered by Lizzie's fingers being so close to your entrance but not going in. "Fuck me," you whispered, but once you voiced your request, she moved her hand away. You turned around to pout at her, but Lizzie was turning the shower on. She held her hand out under the water for a moment until it was warm, then she stepped in, and held out her hands to you.

You stepped into the shower and closed the glass door behind you, feeling the hot water shower over the left side of your body. Lizzie wrapped one arm around completely around your lower back and brought the other one to your face, embracing you in a passionate kiss under the hot water. Her lips moved fiercely against yours, and as the water soaked both of your bodies, her skin never felt so nice against yours as it did then.

Lizzie carefully turned the both of you around so that she could press you against the cool shower wall. You let your hands trail up the smooth, toned expanse of her back, feeling the hot water rain down on her muscles there.

"You want my fingers?" she mumbled between hungry kisses, her tongue teasing your lower lip. You nodded, pressing your fingers into her back as she slipped her tongue into your mouth. She was so soft and delicate with you, yet it always brought a desire within you so fierce and strong. The taste of her tongue settled over yours as she twirled it around your mouth, holding your face in place as she tasted your tongue. You were melting in her arms, under the water, against the wall. You wanted her so bad that you brought one leg up and hooked it around her, and Lizzie made sure to pin you nice and tight against the wall so you wouldn't slip.

"My needy baby," she whispered, breaking the kiss for a moment to breathe as steam filled the shower, only to bring her tongue back to yours. This time, you caught it, sucking softly on it which made her moan into your mouth. You let go after a few moments, and Lizzie kissed you with double the passion and fire.

Her hand on your face trailed down your neck and chest, landing on your breast and grabbing it. Her fingers twirled around your nipple to massage it, and she hummed at how soft and slippery your skin was under the water.

"Fuck me," you impatiently reminded her, nipping at her lower lip as she pulled away and looked at you half reprimanding and half lustful.

"How bad do you want me to?" she lilted, arching a perfectly sculpted brow as she continued to enjoy your breast. Before you could answer her, she leaned down and took your breast in her mouth, sucking gently on it and flicking her tongue over your nipple.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, your head pressing into the shower wall as you felt Lizzie's mouth on you. She gave your breast a soft bite before coming back up to peck your lips. "You didn't answer me," she lilted, smiling as she kissed your cheekbone.

"Please," you whined, running your hands up her back and then back down again. "Please, Mommy."

"Fuck, I love when you call me Mommy," Lizzie groaned, and finally you felt her hand moving down your stomach. "Just for that, you deserve to be fucked."

Her fingers found that you were even wetter than before, and she took no time in slipping two of them inside you. Her long, svelte fingers buried deep inside you, her palm cupping your outer area so that the heel of her palm was pressed against your clit. You moaned in both relief and pleasure, your fingers pressing harder into her back as you threw your head back.

Lizzie took the opportunity to kiss your neck as she began to pump her fingers deeply inside you, curling them perfectly to make you tremble against her.

"You're Mommy's good girl," she hummed, her voice echoing in the shower. Her words made your walls clench around her fingers. Besides the hot, steamy water, it was steamy enough between the two of you, heat settling in what little space was between your bodies.

"Fuck, Mommy," you moaned, and Lizzie moaned with you, biting your neck to relieve the lust she felt when that word slipped from your pretty lips.

Lizzie pulled out of you momentarily just to add a third finger, and the stretch made you whine, but Lizzie kissed your face softly, whispering, "You can take three, baby."

You didn't even realize that your fingernails were scratching Lizzie's back now, and Lizzie loved the feeling of it which propelled her to thrust her fingers harder into you. You were so blinded with pleasure that you also didn't realize that you had leaned forward to bite Lizzie's shoulder, your moans getting too loud to control.

Lizzie kept her arm wrapped tight around you as she pressed you into the shower wall, the steamy water still fanning over her and turning her blonde hair brunette. Her body felt so nice against yours, wet and naked, and her fingers were delectably sending you closer and closer to the edge.

Lizzie, reveling in how warm and wet you were both on the outside and inside, could feel your tight walls clenching harder around her fingers. You were holding off for her, waiting for her permission to cum because you knew she loved being in control. She kept you there on the edge for a moment, knowing that you couldn't cum unless she told you too, thrusting her fingers even harder and curling them sharply inside you. Finally, she decided to give you what you deserved, whispering, "Cum for Mommy, baby."

You bit Lizzie's shoulder even harder and dug your nails into her back as you came around her fingers, clenching hard around her and holding desperately onto her as your blinding orgasm hit you like lightning. Lizzie kept moving her fingers inside you, prolonging your climax until you were limp against her, only being held up by her arm and her body pinning you.

"Mmm, you're so good, baby," Lizzie hummed in satisfaction when you were spent, giving you butterfly kisses all across your face, nose, and lips, kissing every inch of your face she could reach. You were breathless, still trembling as you clung onto her. Lizzie could feel the sting in her back as the hot water flushed the imprints of your nails in her skin, but she enjoyed making you feel so good.

"So," you whispered once you had partially recovered, looking up at Lizzie's beautiful green irises as a water droplet ran over her eyebrow. "Tell me again about that girl you went on a date with."

#elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #lesbian #lgbt #smut #nsft #wanda maximoff #marvel #top!lizzie #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x f!reader #elizabeth olsen smut

[la-principessa-della-squadra]

Serial Killer!Ghiaccio X Fem!reader (Part 1/?)

TW: NSFW content, Yandere, sexual harassment, kidnapping, violence, blood, gore

PLEASE NOTE: The reader of this story is not going to have much control on her surroundings.

SUMMARY: Fem!reader is invited to a laurea (graduation party) and finds Formaggio, Illuso and finally Ghiaccio. After a flashback explaining how fem!reader and Ghiaccio met, She decides to head to her dormitory with him. That was a poor choice.

Il Santo Bevitore bar,  00:31

“DOTTOOOOREEEEE…DOTTOOOOREEEEE!!!!”

October, Graduation month.

This was the third time you heard that chant.

“...Dottore nel buco del cul! VAFFANCUL!VAFFANCUL!”

The chanting was followed by the popping of a Prosecco bottle and a flying cork rolling at the feet of some random students, who probably weren’t even invited to the party.

However, that was never a problem from the start. After all, having gatecrashers at your graduation party is so common that it is now a tradition.

The foamy neck of the bottle, still steaming from its own coolness, slips into your plastic cup supported by Giorno’s quivering hands, who is once again in charge of pouring the alcohol for every single guest. From his rosy cheeks and shaky steps, it was clear that Giorno would not be able to keep himself upright much longer. 

“Grazie Gioà, sei sicuro di non dover vomitare?”

(Thanks Giorno, Are you sure you’re not feeling sick?)

You ask him sheepshly and with a slight note of worry, but before the blondie could answer you’re interrupted by a loud voice.

"UAGLIU!"

Your head quickly turns back. It’s Guido Mista, Giorno’s best friend.  He's also kinda drunk...Guido doesn't waste no time and after catching a big breath he starts shouting at the top of his lungs to give an additional toast.

“AIZ AIZ AIZ, ACAL ACAL ACAL, ACOOST ACCOST ACCOST, A SALUTA NOST!!!”

The rhythmic chant ignites a roaring wave of excitement throughout the bar, fueling Giorno's enthusiasm to the point where he eagerly presses his lips against the giant bottle. The poor guy started drinking since early in the afternoon, and the blame undoubtedly fell on Guido.

As a matter of fact, Guido kept filling up his friend’s glass with whatever alcoholic concoction was within arm's reach. Giorno had finished his graduation speech at 3:30 p.m. By 3:37 p.m. Guido had already made him chug half a bottle of shoddy Tavernello, all complemented by the bursting of confetti and colorful streamers.

Since you knew what a dangerous mix of cheap alcohol was broiling in Giorno’s stomach, you swiftly step back as an anonymous blonde boy decides to intervene by firmly confiscating the bottle of Prosecco. He looked a little concerned. However, you’re pretty sure you’ve seen him before, what was his name again?

“UEEEE PANNAAAA’ààà!!A’Pannacotta!! Ué fra, pcchè nu staj bvenn?"

(PANNACOTTA! Why aren’t you drinkin’, brah??)

You hear Guido shouting, while Giorno’s perfectly bowed laurel wreath had already fallen on his delicate, red face, messing up his golden locks. 

“Mannagg a miserij Guido, ma t'e sciumunut? se m mett a bev pur ij, aropp chi a guid a machin?! comm v port a cas? Nun me facc' ritirare la patente n'altra volta."

 (For fuck's sake Guido, have you gone nuts??If I start pounding drinks too, then who the hell's gonna get your ass home? I ain't letting those bastards revoke my damn license... again.)

Replies the friend in annoyance while adjusting the laurel wreath of a drunk and smiling Giorno.

“E ij che n sacc, stu bar è chin r ingegner autoveicolo, fatt costruì na mongolfiera. vann a naft no?”

(That sounds like a you problem, this bar is full of automotive engineers, ask them if they can build you an air baloon .They run on gasoline don't they?)

“Tu staj proprij a for.”

(You can’t be that stupid.)

At least Guido isn’t wrong, the bar is swarming with engineers looking for one thing and one thing only.

“...Aò, ma’ndò sta la figa??”

(...Yo, Where the bitches at?)

A strong smell of Menabrea invades your nostrils before an anonymous arm swiftly sorrounds your shoulders and traps your body against a men’s chest.

You quickly recognize the man’s voice.

“Formi…”

It’s Formaggio, your favourite drop-out engineer. 

A legend among your faculty for being the ultimate judge of the nightlife, Formaggio lags two years behind you. Throughout the entire semester of you two chilling together, you've taken an oath that you've never laid eyes on him cracking open a book or even getting close to one.

Formaggio's library visits are solely reserved for bugging his buddies, making quick pit stops at the restroom, exploiting his student discount on vending machine goodies, or diving into his favourite pursuit: charming the ladies.

Since it was common knowledge that Formaggio had a preference for freshmen, he very often did not hesitate to physically show you  his affection in front of other people.

“Zì. Questa festa è per i laureati in biologia, non scienze della formazione.”

(Dude. This party is for biology majors, not education majors).

That saccharine yet disinterested tone could only belong to Illuso. You don’t know much about him except that he lives with Formaggio somewhere in the centro storico and that he's majoring in architecture.

It is common knowledge that architects and engineers are natural enemies, like engineers and mathematicians, engineers and physicists, and engineers and other engineers…Damn engineers! They ruined STEM...

Despite all that, these two seem to get along perfectly.

“Mecojoni...”

(DAMN.)

While immersed in your own thoughts, your left check is refreshed by the condensation of Formaggio’s Menabrea as he tries to hold you closer to his chest. He drank too much, and therefore he’s getting even more touchy.

“Ti vedo accaldata chicca, ti prendo qualcosa da bere?Lulù perchè nun vai dall’oste e ce piji quarcosa? Tiè, prendite ‘no scudo e facce fa’ due gintonic.”

(I see you're sizzlin' up, babe. Need a drink to cool those flames? Lulu, hit up the bar, grab some stuff for us. Get a couple of gintons in the mix)

“Oh no no…sto apposto!”

(UH,Nah…I’m fine!)

Panicked, you encounter Illuso’s sight, who immediately gives you an almost disgusted look, as if it was your fault if his friend is drooling all over you. His eyes narrow above a tight and twist smile, and Formaggio gives him a flickering smile back.

"Facciamo che ci vai tu fino al bancone dato che stai preso bene."

( Why don't YOU go to the bar and get us something?)

"Sei propio da' a Lazio, Lulù."

(You're a fucking cunt, Lulu, you know that?)

“ Immaginavo di trovarti qui.”

(I knew you were here.)

Your body is shaken by a sudden shiver. At first glance, you connected that chill to the Menabrea freezing damp glass, but you soon catch on that the bottle is no longer grazing against your cheek.

It’s his voice that made you shiver.

It’s too familiar.

“Oh, Ghiaccio,ce stai anche tu.”

(Oh Ghiaccio, you’re here too.)

Formaggio turns his head behind his shoulders while still keeping his hands on you. His smile fades and his friendly tone vanishes, now resembling Illuso’s.

Regrettably, you know exactly the reason behind Formaggio’s sudden change. It’s no secret that Ghiaccio is an expert in ruining the mood with his bad attitude. In the past, Formaggio tried to warn you many times about Ghiaccio's sudden violent outbursts. 

You found it hard to believe since Formaggio never looked really concerned for his friend but rather preoccupied about his 'party pooper’ attitude.

According to him:

If sober, Ghiaccio would kill the buzz. 

When drunk, Ghiaccio would kill people. 

Even if you seriously doubted about the 'killing' part, everyone on the faculty thought that Ghiaccio was a bit of a weirdo. 

Not that engineers in general aren’t labeled as ‘weirdos’. However, Ghiaccio was giving all those signs of someone you shouldn't approach. After all: ‘ quale persona sana di mente si iscriverebbe a ingegneria, per di più a ingegneria chimica?’

Every time someone actually took the courage to come up to his desk and try to have a word with him, his responses were always dry and blunt. Hunched over his computer and with a MATLAB tab permanently open, not once had he raised his head to engage in conversation with his interlocutor. 

As a matter of fact, it was only his eyes that tried to move.

The gaze behind those thick glasses became suddenly glacial and sinister, accompanied by a tone so saccharine and dismissive that it would have put anyone off.

Ghiaccio sat stiff and still like a taxidermy animal, looking more dog than human.

Ghiaccio sat there, rigid and lifeless, more canine than human. In fact, he often stood as alone as a rabid dog.

Right now, his friends felt his gaze - that of a rabid dog.

“Qualche problema Maggio? Non hai qualche matricola da seviziare?”

(Any problems Maggio? Couldn’t find any freshman to harass?)

Ghiaccio’s sharp tongue brings you back to reality. The blue-haired boy appeared out of thin hair behind Illuso’s back, startling him. He stands there with his glasses slightly fogged up from the air humidity. His right hand clutches a plastic cup that filled with ice, just ice. Weird.

“Cristo Ghiaccio mi hai quasi fatto prendere un infarto. Sembri un morto che cammina.”

(Jesus Christ Ghiaccio,you almost gave me a heart attack. You look like a walking corpse.)

Comments Illuso, glancing in Formaggio’s directions as he lifts his arm from your shoulders and starts loudly chugging the rest of the Menabrea. This visibly annoys Ghiaccio who instinctively shows his teeth, clenching them in a crooked and forced smile.

“Ciao Ghia, come ti vanno le cose?”

(Hello Ghia, How is it going?)

The smile fades. Ghiaccio starts purposely ignoring the two men, and instead he focuses on you:

“Secondo te, tosa? Domani ho Analisi 2.”

(What you think, tosa? Tomorrow I got the Analysis 2 exam.)

“Non sei preparato-”

(Did you stu-)

“Che domanda der cazzo fai chicca, dove pensi che è stato fin ora, se non chiuso in biblioteca?”

(What a damn dumb question, babe. "Did you study?" Like, where the hell do you think he were just a sec? In a freakin' library, duh.)

Formaggio cuts you, mocking your girly voice.

You cautiously raise your hands, waiting for Ghiaccio to burst out for being interrupted, but that doesn't happen. The blue-haired man just shoots Formaggio a death stare, head slightly cocked, eyes piercing through those thin brows. You notice him instinctively baring his teeth and gums at the man like he's about to bite his neck.

It's a warning.

Formaggio takes the hint and casually peers into the bottle, scrounging for any last drops. Meanwhile, Illuso's ego is so massive that he flat out brushes off Ghiaccio's response and jumps right into schooling his buddy.

“Dove pensi che sia. SIA. Il congiuntivo l’hai lasciato al Quadraro?”

(Where do you think He was. He WAS.)

“Lulù stai cercando una capocciata o una bottigliata? Posso dartele entrambe. Te lascio scegliere l’ordine.”

(Listen Lulu. Do you want to catch these hand or the bottle? I can give you both. Just say a word.)

Formaggio's tone takes on a slurred edge, like he's got a bit too much booze in his system for fooling around. Illuso catches wind of this and takes it as the perfect chance to blow off some steam. Weirdly enough, Ghiaccio stays dead quiet, sitting this convo out.

Now that's a twist.

Still, you catch a little something. Even though the guy's zipped his lip, you spy the plastic cup in his grip utterly squashed.

Why's he holding back? You can read it in his expression, he's just itching to unleash his piece.

“Ziofà facciamo che se sei ignorante non è colpa mia.”

(It’s not my fault you’re ignorant)

Replies the tall man while stiffing up and crossing his arm to feel superior. Now Illuso is not even glaring at Formaggio anymore, and he's perfectly aware this is going to drive him mad.

“Ma chi credi de cojonà a' Pariolino?Ignorante lo dici a tua sorella.”

(You did not just call me ignorant.)

“Ignorante nel senso che ignori la grammatica italiana.”

(Don’t take it personally. I said Ignorant because you're ignoring the Italian grammar)

“Allora tu sei un imbecille perchè Imbelle”

(Then you’re an imbecile because you're imbecilin')

“BOJA FAUSS QUELLO CHE HAI DETTO NON HA UN CAZZO DI SENSO, ZI.”

(That doesn’t even make any sense! You just MADE UP. A FUCKING WORD.)

Finally, Illuso comes down from his pedestal and starts hatefully staring at his friend.

"CHICCA!"

(BABE!)

Formaggio turns towards you for half a second and hands you the empty Menabrea before turning his gaze back to Illuso.

"PIJATE STA MENABREA. MO' TE PARTO DE CAPOCCIA!"

(HOLD THIS FOR ME. THIS FAG IS ABOUT TO CATCH THESE HANDS!)

Formaggio's voice blares like a damn siren, catching the attention of everyone in the joint. A bunch of folks, wreaths atop their heads, swivel around, and others in the joint follow suit. In the midst of the mob, you spot Guido secretively trying on Giorno's laurel wreath while the dude's occupied with some pink-haired girl, fussing over his fancy-ass braid.

"Ragazzi non fate gli stupidi. Non potete fare a botte qui- Ci stano guardando tutti..."

(Guys. Stop this nonsense. You can't fight here. Everyone is looking-)

You make a move to put a stop to their antics, when a chilling voice sneaks into your ear...

“Vieni.” 

(Let's go.)

Freddo.

This sensation is familiar, it’s like being in one of those deep, paralyzing sleeps where the weight of the bed covers feels like a boulder. But this time your body seems as if covered by a light sheet. A cold sheet, as if it had never dried. It’s wet and icy, a cold so sharp that starts biting into your skin.

Your head starts spinning, even though you are sure you haven't moved. 

You remain motionless, unable to do anything but inhale icy air.

You feel as if my whole skin is covered with frost.

Your memories are confused and jumbled...you cannot make sense of them.  Under your clenched eyelids, lights, sounds and colors from llast night mix in a continuous spiral, causing you to feel nauseous. After taking a few breaths, your head finally stops throbbing like the speakers of a disco. Your back hurts as it's lying on a hard surface that is even colder than the surrounding air. The unpleasant sensation given by your skin attached to the icy surface challenges you to move your muscles.... But something is wrong. 

They won't move. They can't move.

You sense your hands resting next to your body, the tips of your fingers numb with cold... However, when you flex them in order to warm them, they do not respond to your thoughts. Panic suddenly makes you lucid. you open your eyes.

Your eyes snap open, only to be assaulted by a blinding white radiance. It's intoxicating, that brilliance. A sea of white stretching to every horizon.

A single source of light reigns, the ceiling lamp above you. You lie atop a slab of metal, nothing but gravity pressing you into its unforgiving surface.

“ah...ah…”

Your breath begins to shorten.

White smoke lazily rises from your lips, disappearing into the neon. The light illuminates your figure yet denies you any heat. You look around, trying to figure out where you are. Your neck slowly begins to loosen, allowing you to get a better look around the room...

Beyond, darkness reigns, a domain devoid of form or presence. Yet, something sinister looms along the walls, whether furniture or pillars, they crawl from floor to ceiling.

Your vision drifts downward, over your frozen feet, past the table's edge, until a glimmer dances at the periphery.

A door? 

“C-C-C’è…c’è q-qualcuno?”

(is-is anybody there?)

Your voice is hoarse, cracking when you try to speak. The icy air scratches your throat, your skin quivers.

The tips of your fingers have now lost sensibility, as if they have become one with the table. You cough... then you try to speak again, louder.

“Pe-Per favore!!COFF! AIUTO!! Sono qui!! Non cè nessuno?!”

(Anyone! Anybody!!Please, some-Cough-SOMEONE HELP!!)

After shouting, you wait panting for an answer... a sign...any sign. 

Suddenly you hear footsteps approaching, slow and measured. A shadow obscures the narrow glimmer coming from the door. The sound of several locks being opened echoes in the room. 

The door slowly opens, letting a much stronger light invade the room, revealing an unknown figure.  A man is watching you from the threshold but the light beyond him prevents you from recognize him.

Your eyes flicker as the light sound of your chattering teeth signals you've just regained control of your jaw muscles.

The expression you’re making seems to amuse the man. A soft chuckle escapes him as he strides into the room, sealing the door in his wake. He drags in a cart, and upon its enigmatic cargo, your gaze falters, unable to discern the details.

“Non ti conviene sforzarti così tanto…rischi di farti male.”

(Oh dear, you shouldn't push yourself too hard...you'll end up hurting yourself.)

His voice slices through the air, sharper than the chill. Dread claws at you, its grip tightening as his teeth catch your attention more than his eyes do. A grin stretches across his face, a gruesome expanse that reveals his gums. His gaze remains unaltered, a predator's stare, unrelenting and piercing.

Behind those glasses, his eyes undress you, baring your vulnerability as if you weren't already stripped bare.

“G-Ghiaccio?”

 “Shhh..ti fa male da qualche parte?Come va il respiro?”

(Shhh. Does it hurt anywhere? is your breathing okay?)

All of a sudden, the man puts on a genuinely concerned face, and seems to be focused on your face.

"C-Che è successo??...Ci siamo schiantati?”

(what.... what happened...where am I? did we crash?)

Your voice tremble, it’s stuttering. You gasp as you notice his hand resting on the table, beside your ankle.

" Non c'è niente di cui avere paura...concentrati e rispondi alla domanda: ti fa male da qualche parte?"

(don't worry about it now.... take a breath, stay focused and answer me: does it hurt anywhere?)

The situation is surreal.... what happened? Perhaps you're in a hospital? Did you have an accident? Are you paralyzed because of that?

"n-no. Non c'è niente che mi fa male...ma non riesco a muovermi...h-ho così tanto freddo..."

(n..no.... nothing hurts.... but I can't move..p..I might have something d- to put on...I'm so f-ing cold...)

You murmur, your voice trembling from both cold and unease. Shivers run through you, the icy fingers of anxiety now accompanying the chill. The man's lips curve at your hushed words, his face inches from yours. Your cheeks burn, tainted red by a mix of emotions.

"In un attimo, chicca."

(In a moment, babe.)

He purrs, his tone velvety. However, that ' babe' part is filled with venom and resentment. You quickly notice he's making a sloppy imitation of Formaggio's accent.

His face inches closer, his gaze locked onto yours.

"Sto controllando che sia tutto apposto...dimmi..."

(I must make sure everything's alright... tell me...)

His hand touches the sole of your right foot, a warmth you haven't felt since you woke.

"Senti le mie dita?"

(Can you sense my fingers?)

"Sì..."

(Yes...)

You're aware of his index finger trailing over your skin, a sensation that sends ripples through your body. Past your knee, ascending your thigh, the warmth causes both your form and fear to tremble. His other fingers join the index, like sinister accomplices, tracing your flesh. With a creeping exploration, his hand moves until it firmly presses against your inner thigh.

"Dimmi quando non le senti più."

(Let me know when you can't feel them anymore.)

"a-ah!F-fermo!"

(a-ah! Stop!)

You attempt to resist, but your defiance only manifests in the frustrated shake of your head...

"Rilassati..."

(Relax...)

He coos, his voice a syrupy assurance.

"Non ti farò niente...per ora. Non sei contenta di ricevere un check up gratuito?"

(I won't do anything... yet. Isn't a complimentary check-up something to be glad about?)

His hand still lingers on your inner thigh, its touch a languid caress that ignites a warmth, craving coursing through your body. You relinquish the sensation, only to be met once again with the unforgiving cold of the table.

"C-Che cosa è successo?"

(What... What's happened to me?)

Breathless, you gasp, your chest heaving. The man's features retain an eerie calm as you sense his touch upon you once more. His fingers slip under your right hand's palm, lifting it, while his other hand blankets your back.

"Solo un attimo chicca, devo finire il chek-up...Poverina, le tue mani sono congelate."

(Just a moment, babe. I need to finish the check-up... Poor thing, your hands are freezing....)

 He smiles as his warm hands rub against yours, giving you such relief that a sigh of pleasure escapes you.

"oh-"

This time, his 'babe' doesn't feel as a mockery.

You catch the sight of his tongue darting across his lips, a prelude to him exhaling gently onto your fingers. His warm breath works its magic, coaxing sensitivity back into your once-numb digits.

"Ti piace, non è vero?...lascia che ti faccia stare meglio..."

(Feels good, doesn't it? let me do something special...) 

Before you can say anything, his mouth is pressed on your fingers as he starts to kiss them, slowly.... how can those lips be so warm.... the gesture is so unexpected that leaves you speechless. You feel your head dipping into a fog-you are still dreaming. You are definitely dreaming. There is no other explanation, 

-ah-

Your index finger slides into his mouth, encountering the sensation of his warm, wet tongue caressing your nail, descending to its very base. It's a repulsive, slimy sensation, made eerier by the expression he wears—a perverse delight akin to a child sucking their favorite treat.

"M-ma che fai? S-Smettila..."

(N-no... no, stop...)

You stammer, horror clenching at your chest, urging him to cease.

Your gaze locks onto the dreadful scene unfolding before you. Slowly, he extracts your index finger, his lips gripping its tip. Behind the thick lenses of his glasses, Ghiaccio gazes at you, his eyes holding an unsettling glint. As terror courses through you, his teeth begin to close deliberately, his molars biting down, the pressure intensifying with every passing second.

"No-C-Che cosa-AHI. AHIA!! MI FAI MALE! L-Lasciami!! SMETTILA!!"

(No—what are you doing? Ah!AHH! YOU'RE HURTING ME!! It hurts! NO!)

Recognition dawns as you comprehend his sinister intent. The sound that echoes from him—a chilling crunch—is oddly familiar, like the memory of your grandmother offering freshly harvested, crisp carrots from her garden when you were a child.

*CRUNCH*

A scream rips from your throat, pain blurring your sight. His jaw locks around the bone with an aggressive grip.

In a split second that catches you off guard, Ghiaccio tears two of your phalanges away, wrenching your finger free in a swift, brutal motion. The forceful snap of his head results in a gruesome sight—a gushing surge of blood spraying forth.

Your hand remains locked in his.

The vile squelching of his chewing churns your stomach. He's like a rabid dog ravaging his prey.

"Mmh... sapevo ne sarebbe valsa la pena"

(Mhh... delicious... just as I'd imagined.)

Your shrieks of torment transform into violent retches. You twist your face aside, desperate to avoid vomiting, yet there's nothing left to expel. The sound of his swallowing grates on your ears. More convulsions wrack your frame, forcing your eyes to shut.

You can hear him dragging the cart closer, your gaze drawn to the crimson smears that now stain his scrubs. You can't muster the strength to confront your mangled hand.

"Ci vuole calma e sangue freddo, tosa."

(Baby, it's cold outside.)

#la squadra #ghiaccio #la squadra esecuzioni #ghiaccio jjba #jjba ghiaccio #ghiaccio x reader #yandere ghiaccio #yandere x reader #jjba formaggio #jjba illuso #jjba giorno giovanna #jjba fugo pannacotta #jjba guido mista #jojo no kimyō na bōken #tw:blood #fem!reader x ghiaccio #This draft recently resurfaced #I've realized that it won't get any better #I will never finish this #rega finalmente me la sono tolta dai maroni

[operafantomet]

Now I've finally caught up on all the content from the Italian non-replica productions, and I have so many thoughts. Now let's play the very unfair but also kinda fun game of "reviewing a production solely based on photos"! I'll put it behind the cut to not kill your feed...

Is it really a non-replica production if the Eiffel Tower is not included in some way?

This set design is rather clever. Making the false boxes at the side a part of a rotating set, complete with a "frescoed" ceiling, makes it a lot easier to remove the auditorium look. And also a brilliant anchor for the chandelier instead of relying on the theatre's own ceiling. I guess the only issue is that the scenes where the boxes are partly turned (like the Mirror scene) seems somewhat cramped, but all in all: an original take on the "false boxes dilemma", and more spacious looking than the Restaged Tour's drum set. Other than that... a rather beige Hannibal?

The Elissa costumes... It's like the Estonian Elissa costume had a love child with the Sydney Harbour dance costumes...! But I don't say that in a negative way. I think the Italian Elissa costumes looks regal and rich and fun.

Earl Carpenter also admires that costume:

Is it really a non-replica production if Christine does not feature a red rose in some way? Also, an example of how the stage feels a bit cramped with the false boxes-set rotated. On the other hand, I guess this brings the audience closer to the action. I like what I see overall.

Not gonna lie, I thought this was from the Restaged Tour first time I saw the photo. Both look almost identical to the original staging and costumes, just mildly tweaked:

I have not seen any good photos of the set design of the Phantom's lair. But the glimpses I've seen gives me vibes of the Restaged Tour and the Polish production. Mostly because of the curved gondola and the candle-lit realistic organ:

The Restaged Tour vibes are STRONG here, with the cast singing the final part of Prima Donna in front of a Garnier-esque curtain. If Carlotta had worn her Il Muto costume it would be downright identical.

But hey! Bonus point for not including the Eiffel Tower in the Rooftop set. The set designer clearly knew what she was doing by including it in the Auction scene (set later) and not in the Rooftop scene. The Notre Dame, on the other hand, would "always" had been there. Bonus point for a hint of Garnier sculptures and roof structure.

...whatever can it mean that the Phantom swings across the stage in a red cape, Tarzan style?

Whaddayaknow, a foreshadoing for dead Buquet, swinging across the stage in the same manner just some seconds later. Frankly? This is one of the ideas I suspect maybe looked better on paper than in real life. Camp flies higher than the Phantom, at least...

Eeeer. Forget what I wrote. The Phantom flies higher than camp after all, riding that chandelier to the ground in an olympic level of explosions and flashing light. I want to dig it, but my brain refuses to.

Is it really a non-replica production if there aren't some sort of confetti? Nice turned perspective on the Garnier auditorium and chandelier. Very, very similar to the chandelier crash in Hungary. Looks pretty. Also liking Christine's quite serious bustle dress, even if it doesn't quite scream Masquerade. But I believe they all cloak up for the main scene?

The graveyard, complete with graves, a glum sky, a cloaked Christine carrying a red rose (what else?), and... the Phantom flying away on his black wings... This production is a lot, but boring isn't part of that...!

Don Juan AKA Mad Hatter. First time I saw part of Christine's costume I thought they had replicated the Marguerite dress from the Lon Chaney movie and it made me so happy. But then I saw the corset. Ah, no. Close, but no cigar. But I dig Amelia Milo's wig. It's hard to make out the colour, quite dark ash blonde or super light brown. It looks very good on her.

Beautiful set, though! The painted "fresco" ceiling above the chandelier is such a neat touch.

OK, Ramin... throat grabbing Christine was not OK in the Royal Albert Hall, and it's still not OK. No. Just no.

...and here you lost me completely... Is this The Phantom of the Opera or The Met: Notes on Camp? I can't tell.

But not to end this absolutely nonsense non-review on a negative note, I will comment on the main background set seen in the Phantom's lair and Don Juan. CLEVER. Because... At first glance it reminds of Maria Bjørnson's set design for Don Juan. She appears to have been inspired by the Italian artist Piranesi (1720-1778), and especially his fantasy architecture of nightmareish labyrinths. A series is called "Imaginary Prisons". It looks like the Italian production also picks up a clue or five from Piranesi. And frankly, "Imaginary Prisons"... the most fitting home for the Phantom, no?

#poto italy #yes i'd love to see it live #but life is not such at the moment #phantom of the opera #il fantasma dell'opera #ramin karimloo #amelia milo #bradley jaden #earl carpenter #clara abbruzzese #chiara donato #federico bellone

[fcgoretzka]

Za roko te držim | Bojan Cvjetićanin

Pairing : Bojan Cvjetićanin x y/n (she/her)

Author's note : Well yeah, this is my very first Bojan fanfic, it came out shorter than what I anticipated but yeah, a first is a first. Hopefully I'll have the time and inspiration to write many many more 🦋 Infinite thanks to @rottingsun for giving me this idea and saving me (also saving you from another sad angst if you remember me from the old il volo imagines days).

Warnings: Sexual tension, slight foul language (I think?). No proofread cause we die like men.

With the way the music was blasting through the nightclub, the strobing lights electrifying the atmosphere and the excessive alcohol making everyone a little too flirty, Bojan decided to put down his gin tonic and take y/n 's hand, motioning her the way to the dance floor. She could never resist him, especially now, with the way the black fabric was hugging his body and his arms that were oh-so-protective of her were in clear sight after tearing the sleeves of his silk shirt. His hands quickly found their way to her lower back, bringing her as closer to him as he could, while she played with Bojan's hair with the tips of her fingers. Her eyes never leaving his, they were entagled into this sexual tension, but none of them wanting the night to end. The dj was playing the perfect songs, the bartender served the perfect drinks and the outcome of the night could wait until the first morning hours. Bojan kept averting his gaze between her eyes and lips, teasing his girlfriend whose lust could be spotted miles away. He moved his lips closer to hers, barely touching her, their breaths entagled. She decided to give in, hungrily tasting the sweet and bitter lips of his. Bojan never turned down the opportunity to kiss her, their lips moving in sync and their hands exploring each other's bodies.

"You know how much you have turned me on right now?" Bojan whispered into her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "I don't think we should leave yet, one drink is too little, and the way those lights glow on your face, I want to look at that a bit longer" she replied and Bojan gave her a smile, a type of smile that he keeps only for her. A smile full of adoration. "Can I buy you another drink then?" he said, trying to hide the small smirk that was forming on his lips. She nodded smiling and led him back to the bar, only to see that one of the the two stools that they were sitting was occupied by a pretty blonde woman who was overly excited to talk to the bartender, so Bojan motioned y/n to sit on the empty seat, his hand never leaving hers. "A Strawberry Daquiri baby?" he asked her and she gave him a bright smile.

She never knew two strawberry daquiris could make her so tipsy, but she was giggling like a high schooler every time Bojan told her she was pretty. So he took this as the perfect opportunity to tell her that standing for so long made his feet hurt and the only solution he could think of is sitting on her lap. Her eyes immediately sobered up and whispered "You fucking tease, you know having you this close turns me on" she said completely serious, as Bojan made himself comfortable on her lap. She leaned on his back, the intoxicating smell of his shampoo, his perfume, his aftershave among with the bitterness of the cocktails he chose making her dizzy. "You love holding me closer" he said as she simply nodded, sinking deeper into his silk shirt, holding him tighter and tighter. Bojan sensed that the sexual tension wasn't so palpable anymore and turned his head back, trying to get a better view of her face. "Hey, hey ljubezen, what's wrong?" he said as y/n looked at him dead in the eye and said "Having you on my lap reminded me of how lucky I am to have you Bojan".

Hearing his name only meant two things. Either they were making love, or she was dead serious about what she was saying. He gave her a sweet smile and gave her a soothing kiss on the top of her head. "I am also super lucky to have you in my life y/n. And I am even luckier to know that I have you in my life for good." she told her, the strobing lights lighting up his face not causing her knees to turn weak anymore, but giving her a sense of protection, of security, of warmth. There was no sexual tension, no teasing whatsoever. Just pure love. Pure, plain love.

"But that doesn't mean that the night won't end the way we imagined at the beginning ljubezen"

#bojan cvjeticanin imagine #eurovision #bojan cvjetićanin #bojan cvjeticanin #bojan cvjeticanin fanfiction #bojan cvjeticanin fanfic #bojan cvjeticanin one shot #joker out #slovenia #carpe diem

[literaryfandomangel]

The Promise Chapter Four

Chapter Four

"Whoa!" The person I ran headfirst into grabbed hold of my elbows. They were trying to make sure that I didn't fall onto my butt, but I flinched back from their touch and the feeling of bubbles under my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut, a reflex at this point. The person noticed with a sharp inhale. They were sure they could deduce the reasoning behind that reflex but decided not to bring it up. "Are you okay?"

I opened my eyes after a moment, moving out of their reach. I plastered on a smile, tilting my head back to see the person I had inconvenienced. He had kind, honey-colored eyes and long brown hair (long even by 80 fashion standards). His hair fell like a wave of obsidian in the dark light, natural highlights glinting in the overhead lights. I noticed an animal tooth hanging from his earring in his left ear. I suspected a bear, due to the size. I blushed as I gazed upon his visage, realizing he only wore a leather jacket, no shirt underneath. The coat was open, leaving his abs on display. I gave the man a nod, praying he wouldn't ask any more questions. I also didn't want to begin to think about the tingling in my skin where his hands had touched. 

It was related to his touch since I only noticed the tingling, bubbling feeling in my elbows. Right where this man had steadied me to keep my balance. I didn't know what to think or what this would mean. No one had ever been able to elicit such a response from me ever. 

"I think she's stunned," another man with long blonde hair, gorgeous blue eyes, a teasing smile, and a California accent smirked at the man. I stepped back, just now noticing the three other individuals accompanying the brunette. 

"Paul!" The guy in front of me admonished, rolling his eyes. It made me think this was their dynamic - Paul saying something and this man having to clean up after Paul. The brunette held me captive beneath his honey-brown eyes that refused to leave me alone. 

"Fine," I murmured, breaking eye contact. I blushed as my eyes drifted lower to view his perfect abs and then lower to settle on his thighs. He had thick thighs that were muscular and his black jeans clung to the muscles. Finally, I brought my eyes to the ground, wishing for an earthquake to open a fault and swallow me whole. 

"What's your name?" Another man spoke, breathing out smoke from the cigarette he was indulged in. My eyes rose involuntarily to look upon his countenance. This man had a darker stubble on his chiseled cheeks with the blondest hair I'd ever seen. 

He had pale blue eyes that seemed to draw me into his gaze. It felt unnerving, like he was looking deep into my soul, figuring out my secrets. The lanugo on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end, sensing some danger or electricity in the air. I couldn't say a word while my eyes were locked with his. My mouth wouldn't move to articulate the syllables of my name. His lips quirked upwards into a smirk until my brother's voice broke the spell. 

"ARIA!" Sam called out, running towards me on the Boardwalk. I jerked and yanked out of the reverie. It caused our eyes to disconnect, and I felt strange, almost empty. The four men standing there let their mouths curve upwards into smiles as my identity was no longer a secret. I turned to walk toward my brother when I heard the platinum-blonde male speak.

"We'll see you around, Aria," he promised. I turned to see their figures already walking away, leather clothing and accessories creaking as they ambled away. I wasted no time and raced to Sam's side. 

"Where have you been?" Sam yelled at me. He didn't need to worry about me as I was the oldest. Since coming out of inpatient, Sam had been treating me like I was a little kid. I didn't care for his attitude when we were alone. "Mom's worried sick about you. Did you eat anything? Or are you just waiting to pass out - again?"

My spine stiffened at his callous jab. I understood that Sam was lashing out due to the move and worried about my illness, but he didn't have to scream it at me. I didn't notice the four men stop, having heard what my brother said to me. They looked at the scene before them, taking in what information they could. No one noticed if they looked upon the scene how all four men clenched their fists in anger. They didn't appreciate how this child spoke to the lovely creature wandering the Boardwalk. 

I said nothing to Sam; I just chose to walk past him. A silent ghost wandering up the Boardwalk. I ignored my brother's ranting, focusing on the four mysterious men. They were handsome - something I've only seen in magazines or on the television. I had seen handsome guys before, but everyone paled compared to those four. I was also focused on why I felt a connection between the four. 

I had felt a weird pull in the depths of my stomach while near them. The platinum blonde held the most sway over my mind. I wondered how long I could have stared at him, but probably for as long as possible. The electrical sparks that still tingled under my skin where the brunette had gently grabbed my elbows were magical. The air around the five of us felt charged, almost as if lightning had just hit the beach where we were standing. 

My mind wandered, the visage of the four men vivid within my memory. It was almost palpable as if I could touch them in my mind as my brother and I walked to the Range Rover. My mother was waiting by the driver's side, with a bright smile, when she noticed our figures. As I walked closer, I felt as if I were being watched. It didn't feel creepy or threatening but rather heat where eyes were staring. 

I turned my head, locking green eyes on the figures of those four men. The crowd milled about them, but they kept staring at me. My cheeks turned cherry red when I realized they were enamored with me. I couldn't bear to tear my eyes away, ears reddening as the blonde-haired male with the long locks winked. 

"Aria!" My mom's voice cut through the connection. She sounded irritated, almost as if she had said my name multiple times prior. I turned my head to focus on her. "Did you eat?"

I shrugged my shoulders, my mother sighing. She was worried that she would lose me, and there was no money to put me into another inpatient clinic. I reached for the cold door handle, turning my head back towards the Boardwalk. I scanned the crowd, but it was like the men were a figment of my imagination as they were no longer standing there. I sighed, a little disappointed, and got into the car.  Chapter Five

#david tlb #emerson sister #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys marko #the lost boys paul #the lost boys x emerson sister #david x reader #dwayne x reader #fanfiction #tw restrictive ed #tw disordered eating #tw eating issues

[anxietycroissant]

So this has stalled but in case anyone else lets stuff slip through the cracks like I do on Ao3, here’s the first chapter of my (so-far) #sydcarmy rambling story that never gets to the point. It’s four chapters so far and I’m hoping this will motivate me to keep it going.

It takes place immediately post season 2 as Carmy gets busted out of the walk-in. It’s a bit feel-good so far but that is unlikely to continue without a few bumps in the road. Enjoy! If you’re lazy I’ve literally pasted the entire first chapter into this post like an absolute champ.

Chapter 1: Mister Freeze

Late night after Friends and Family

The Bear BOH, Chicago, IL

Syd entered the kitchen quietly from the door that led outside, wiping her dry lips with the back of one shaking hand. They had actually pulled off the night, even with Carmy stuck in the walk-in. She pulled her eyes shut as she felt a low swooping sensation in her stomach as the memory of her coming so close to giving up while doing expo flashed in her mind. She never thought she’d be so thankful to Richie. He completely saved her ass. She had wanted to thank him profusely at the end of the night, but he was nowhere to be found as Tony (or was it Terry?), the fridge guy, was breaking Carmy out of the walk-in. Her fingers had begun to haltingly compose a text to Richie to see where the fuck he was, but she figured that she’d save this big conversation for another day. Her gratitude was too big for WhatsApp and that’s just how it was. Plus, what in the actual hell was making her phone so greasy? Olive oil?

Richie unexpectedly saved the day… what the fuck was that? A smile edged up the corners of her mouth until her face ached. It was funny how much she needed to remember that sometimes people can still surprise you in the best ways. She frowned, as a cousin of that thought entered her mind. People can also let you the fuck down.

Carmy was her partner, and she valued his experience and opinion above almost everything. But he really lost himself. It wasn’t so much that he broke his promise to her that he wouldn’t let her drown. It was more that he just totally broke down. She’d never known somebody who could be both so brilliant and yet so unable to cope when things got tough. Everyone had tried to talk him out of his anxiety spiral, but nothing anyone said had done any good in the end. The only person who could help Carmy was Carmy, and that sure as shit didn’t happen.

She had heard bits and pieces of things he had said to Tina from inside the walk-in as she zoomed around the kitchen trying to get things done. She didn’t find out the whole story until later. After the last tickets of the night came through and the stress level of the kitchen started to even out, she realized that until that moment she had forgotten all about Carmy. That’s the thing about working at such a high level: it’s good and bad to focus so completely on something that you totally forget any and everything else.

The moment her thoughts circles back to Carmy, she stopped checking up on everyone and walked back towards the walk-in. The familiar scent of clean, hot dishes and the lingering odor of hot oil hit her as she shuffled tiredly away. She saw the back of Nat's blonde head and could almost physically feel the worry she was directing towards the metal door of the walk-in. Nat must have felt Syd watching her and whispered, “I keep wondering why this is taking so long! Pete keeps circling the block in the car waiting for me. I just want to see if Carmy’s okay, but every time I try to talk to him through the door he won’t say anything. He’s being such a little bitch right now!” She sounded equal parts worried and disgruntled, like always. Syd smiled and cracked a yawn. “You go ahead, Nat. I promise I’ll check up on Carmy and get him home safe. You and Pete head home and rest up. You were amazing tonight, but you look a little bit like…,” her face froze as she saw Natalie’s raised eyebrows. ”Yeah. Um, what I actually meant to say was that I’ve like, got this. Yeah,” she fumbled awkwardly.

Nat just nodded, not even hearing that Syd had basically tiptoed really close to telling her that she looked like hammered shit. “Thanks, Syd. I don’t know what any of us would do without you. Text me if you need anything or if I should come back, OK? And let me know what he says, yeah? And this is a big ask, but… can you see if you can get him to eat something?” Nat rubbed her eyes, causing her mascara to smear ever so slightly. Syd wondered what her own mascara was doing at that moment. “And oh yeah,” Nat spat out with venom, “It would also be great if you could calm him the fuck down and get him to stop getting in his own freaking way all the time.” She did have the decency to grimace in apology after that last bit. Syd cocked her head to the side, already feeling defeated. “Should I be like, taking notes, Nat? Or is that all?” Nat let out a harsh laugh and squeezed Syd’s shoulder, practically racing out the door. ‘Fuck,’ thought Sydney , ‘She’s leaving before I can change my damn mind.’

Syd leaned her back against the wall, and slowly sank to the floor to wait for Carmy to get out. She waited a few minutes longer before the guy whose name probably began with a T finished with the door. Before he opened the door, he said, “Hey, no offense, Syd… but can I get paid before I open this door? Carm has been saying some weird shit and I just want to get the hell out of here.” Syd nodded distractedly, running a hand along her braids. She reminded him just to bill them. She was not going to call Nat back in right now to ask what the new process for paying contractors was. And honestly, she wasn’t dying to know how much money it was going to set them back to have this emergency work done. Mystery Man just shrugged, his gesture seeming to mean that he didn’t trust her promises but that he was too tired to care. “Thanks so much for helping, have a great night!” Syd called out as Terry or Tim or Tony made a beeline for the exit.

‘Well, shit’ , Syd thought. 'He didn’t even open the door all the way.' She hoped she could. As she pushed, the door swung cleanly on its hinges until it was all the way open. She stepped in, the cool air a welcome change from the warm kitchen against her flushed skin. Carmy was just sitting there staring at the floor, seemingly unaware that he was free. With his arms wrapped around himself, he had his head down in between his knees. His blonde curls obscured his eyes, so she couldn't tell what he was thinking. Syd let herself sink down next to him. She cautiously put an arm around him and wrapped her palm around his shoulder. The cold of his shoulder reached up and bit her. He tensed up immediately but relaxed a bit when he realized it was her arm and not someone else’s.

“Syd,” he whispered hoarsely, “I’m so sorry, Chef. I’m so, so sorry.” He either didn’t have the energy or the will to look at her. “I broke my promise to you already.” He seemed so bereft, so adrift, that Syd couldn’t even voice her anger or disappointment at that moment. “Carmy,” she said softly, “Let’s get you out of here and then talk about it.” She kept her arm around his freezing shoulder but got onto her knees so she could leverage her weight to help him stand up. She thought he would put up more of a fight, but he got up willingly enough. She dragged him over to his locker and then helped him into his wool jacket, and had to physically pull his feet out of his Birkenstocks and put them into his sneakers. It was a bit worrying, the way he was accepting her help without question. She got her bag out and changed her own clothes and shoes, and then they walked out to his car. He just stood there, so she told him she was driving him home. He didn’t argue, didn't smoke a cigarette, didn't give her shit. It all kind of worried her.

The atmosphere in the car was tense and quiet as soon as the doors shut. Syd turned on the radio to fill the silence. She was thankful that at least they weren’t listening to any of his fucking depressing music. Syd, under the guise of running a hand through her hair to tuck a loose braid behind her ear, was really sneaking multiple sidelong glances at Carmy as she drove to his place. To his credit, he wasn’t giving anything away. His blue eyes just stared straight ahead, devoid of any emotion. She kept hoping she could think of something to say, but her brain was maxed out. Also, she was pretty sure there was trash or something under the gas pedal, and she needed to focus on not killing them in a fiery car crash. Carmy started mumbling something as they approached his neighborhood, apparently to himself. Syd sighed and eventually found parking underneath a tree by his building.

Even later that night

Carmy’s apartment

The two of them slowly walked up many, many stairs to his apartment. Syd figured that this was the only way left to find a decent apartment in Chicago; find something on the hundredth floor with no elevator. She twisted the key in the lock and opened his door. They both stumbled inside. Carmy waved at her as he slowly slurred, “Thanks, Syd. Go home and get some sleep. You killed it tonight.” She gave him a half smile and nodded. But as she started to turn around and head for the door, something didn’t quite feel right. She whipped her head back around and caught Carmy shivering. He had apparently waited to fall apart until after she left. “Carm, what the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me you were so cold? We had the heat on high the whole way here,” Syd huffed, losing what little patience she had left. “We could have saved time going to the ER!” At that thought, Carmy really looked at her. And he looked scared. “Syd, please,” he whispered, “No doctors, okay? I just can’t. I’m so tired and those places freak me the fuck out.”

“All right, Carm, but I can’t leave you alone- and we’ve got to get you warm.” He just looked at her, utterly spent and waiting on her next move. “Shit,” she thought. Maybe he has mild hypothermia? Is that a thing? Can you be just a little bit frozen? She Googled it and it was a thing. She also Googled if spiraling makes hypothermia worse, but the only thing that Google advised against was hot baths. Not super helpful, but good to know? She was torn between calling an ambulance and trying to fix him herself. If she was being honest, she didn’t have the energy to convince Carmy to willingly leave in an ambulance. And she certainly didn’t have the capacity right now to get him down those stairs on her own. She sighed and decided to put the kettle on. His depressing apartment wasn’t helping either.

“OK, Carm, let’s get you into something warmer,” she said dully. He just stood there, so she slipped into his bedroom. Pulling open drawers that barely slid open, she found some sweatpants that somehow looked like normal sweatpants but also like an artisan had handcrafted them in a long-forgotten Italian village. As she ran her hands across the expensive fabric, she wondered where he shopped. And when did he shop? Did he secretly have a massive online shopping addiction, or did he spend every day off buying expensive as fuck sweatpants and obscure white t-shirts? After grabbing the sweatpants, she found a thick, long-sleeved tee. She also grabbed some boxers and thick socks.

As she padded back to Carmen, she saw that he was shivering more than ever. “Arms up, dude,” she said sternly. He put them up without a fight, although they shook slightly. She pulled up his shirt, catching her knuckles on his chest as she did. His skin felt like ice. ‘Shit,’ she thought. New clothes weren’t going to be enough. She slid the new shirt over his head anyway and helped him pull his arms through the sleeves. She tried not to stare at his body while he was in this vulnerable state, but it was an exercise in control. Because all of his muscles were on full display less than a couple of centimeters away from her eyes. If she had had more time, she’d have taken a mental inventory of a few new-to-her tattoos. Her face felt hot all of a sudden and she shook her head to stay on task.

He managed to get his shit together for a second and changed his pants and boxers in his bathroom with the door (halfway?) closed. He was taking too long, so she pushed the door open and pulled him back out. She gave him a long look, sighing. She didn’t like what she saw. A wax version of a person stood in front of her, without substance or colour. Maybe it was just her, but he looked even paler than usual. His skin normally had a golden undertone with a blush of red ready to rise up just underneath the surface of his skin. Not that Syd had perfectly cataloged the colors of his skin in her memory or anything. Because that would be a new level of weirdness. Just then the tea kettle began to whistle. Sydney took some dusty mugs down from his cabinet and some even dustier tea bags, making tea for them both.

She dragged Carmy to sit down on the edge of his bed and handed him the scalding hot cup of tea. He looked at it, then at her, and then back at the tea again. “Syd,” he trailed off. “I’m fucking cold.” Syd looked up at the ceiling. Why did this shit always happen to her? How did she find herself in these situations? She felt like she was in a really random episode of a TV show with endless seasons, like Grey's Anatomy. This scenario had played out at least a time or two on that series, she thought to herself.

She gestured to Carmy to take off his shirt. “It’s either that or we go to the hospital,” she warned, as he looked at her in disbelief. “We have to get you warmed up somehow, and I’m afraid to put you in the shower when you’re this cold. If you fall and pass out, I don’t think I can pick you back up. I know we’re the same height, but fuck, dude, I don’t work out!” He let her come closer and take his shirt off. The collar got stuck on his nose for a second, and Syd heard a high laugh escape from her mouth. “Cool, super cool,” Syd thought. “Real chill.”

She gently pushed Carmy down onto his pillow and then laid down beside him. She pulled the covers over them both and wrapped her arms gently around his body. His eyes were tightly shut, and his shivering shook them both. “Syd… I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this,” he whispered through chattering teeth. “Hey,” Syd whispered excitedly, “you said two whole sentences! That’s more than you’ve said in the last hour!” Her grin faded as she saw the misery etched on Carmy’s face. His body felt tense like he would bolt if he could. Did he really hate this so much, or was he simply ashamed to be so weak in front of her ?

“Hey, Carm, it’s just me. You can relax, let’s just... You know? Get you warm, ok? You’re totally fine. We’re just cuddling, right? Nothing scary is happening. It’s just me.” But then a sudden realization hit her. “Oh fuck,” she thought, cringing inwardly. He has a girlfriend. Who is an ER doctor? Of course he’s tense. “Carm, should I call Claire? I’m sure you’d much rather her do this, right? Especially since she’s a… fuck… I don’t know? Actual doctor who knows what she’s doing? I can’t believe I’m such an idiot! I’m so sorry!” But Carmy just shook his head, pressing it into her shoulder. He was mumbling, but his voice sounded much clearer than it had just a little while ago. “So Claire kind of heard me say some shit while I was locked in the walk-in. Yeah, I thought I was talking to Tina, but I guess Tina left? And I’m paraphrasing but I am pretty sure I told her she wasn’t worth all of this time? Pretty sure we’re broken up. So. Yeah. Please don’t fucking call her, Syd.” Carmy dragged his hands through his hair, which at this point made little to no difference. His hair was already wild after his jaunt in the walk-in.

Syd didn’t know what to say, because she had never known how to feel about Claire in the first place. Claire was fine? Perfect on paper, but not for Carmy. “Syd?” Carmy had apparently asked her a question. “Sorry,” Syd replied, “Are you okay? Uh.. fuck, you’ve had a bad night. I guess you were under a lot of pressure though. If you say you’re sorry and you didn’t mean it, I’m sure she’ll understand.” Syd believed this to be true while wanting it not to be true at the same time. She had that odd feeling of missing a step while walking down the stairs deep in her belly.

Carmy’s nose felt like ice against where it was wedged against her shoulder. “Look, I feel bad about how I said it, but I’m also relieved.” She could feel him smile slightly, the first bit of life she’d seen from him since the walk-in had been cut open. “I always really liked her, you know? And when we started hanging out, it was cool. But she got to see me when I was ok. I don’t think she ever saw that side of me, where I get angry or anxious or throw up or just guzzle Tums. For a while, I thought it was fine. But it’s not. And she reminds me of being a little kid. And like of how I was in high school. And that’s not her fault, I know. But I can’t be with her.” He sighed. “I’m not explaining it well at all, I know. But I’m glad it’s you here and not anyone else. I don’t think I could take it.” Sydney nodded, understanding immediately. “I get it,” she murmured softly.

She looked down and saw that her hand was lightly rubbing his back. His very naked, very muscular back. She felt the heat radiate from her cheeks, down through her arms and legs, and into the sheets. She was very, very thankful that Carmy was still out of it. Too out of it to notice that she was losing her damn mind. As her hands slowly rubbed up and down, she felt Carmy’s muscles relax bit by bit. He even felt a bit warmer now. Still fucking cold, but she didn’t think he needed the hospital anymore. He felt like he’d just come in from playing in the snow. The mental image of Carmy as a boy, coming inside from building a snowman, appeared in her mind’s eye. She had to bite down a smile.

“What?” whispered Carmy softly. “What made you smile just now? Where did you go?” Syd just shook her head. “It’s too embarrassing,” she admitted. “I’m sure it’s definitely more fucking embarrassing than what I’ve experienced tonight,” he deadpanned. She chuckled as he cracked a grin. “I was just thinking that now you don’t feel like ice anymore, and then I thought that now you feel like you’re just cold from playing outside. Like kids do after it snows.” Carmy pulled back to look at her. “Do you think we’d have been friends if we’d known each other back then?” he asked. “I don’t know,” answered Syd truthfully, staring up at the ceiling. “I was a major nerd. And I was also a lot younger than you. Four years was a big difference back then. That’s like ten years in kid years.”

Carmy stared at her. “Four years isn’t much anymore, though,” he breathed. ‘Fuck,’ thought Sydney desperately. ‘Don’t look at me like that with those eyes.” He scrunched up his blue eyes. “What do you mean?” He asked. “Oh, fuck. Did I say that out loud?” She laughed nervously. “Syd,” he stared at her as he shifted a bit closer to her. “What do you mean?” he repeated softly. There was no judgment in his eyes. He just wanted to understand.

“Jesus Christ, Carmy, you have to know that your blue eyes are enough to stop traffic. People in small villages would probably have a parade to celebrate that shit.” She shut her eyes tight and waited him out. She slowly opened one eye. Yep, still staring at her. He was smiling at her sadly. “I don’t think anyone is gonna throw a parade for me any time soon, “he replied. “But they definitely would for you.” She wrinkled up her face as though she had swallowed a mouthful of vinegar.

“Syd, you’re worse at taking a compliment than I am, fuck. You don’t see it, but you’re everything. Everyone loves you, you’re incredibly talented, and you- yeah, you’re just everything,” he sighed. “I don’t deserve you,” he says as he pushed a stray braid out of her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Syd,” he repeated.

Syd suddenly couldn’t think of anything to say, and her mouth was dry. As Carmy gazed into her eyes, she felt herself on the edge of something, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to go over. Trying to hang onto some semblance of normalcy, she squeezed his shoulder in reply. Carmy, whose arms had until now been resting at his sides, reached up to wrap an arm around her waist. She felt her skin warm at his touch, which was weird, right? The heat wasn't coming from his body; that was for sure. Was she freaking out? Was she breathing weirdly? Could he tell? Oh God. He seemed so calm, and she was losing her mind. Apparently not noticing her awkwardness, Carmy moved closer. She could feel his soft curls touching her cheek. She could feel his chest pressed into hers, soft and reassuring. He even smelled? Cold, somehow?

“Syd? This is really nice,” he whispered, stroking her back. “Carmy, why does your breath smell like spices?” Sydney couldn’t help but giggle. Carmy should smell like cigarettes and soap, and she finds the difference strange. “I was hitting the walk-in door, you know?” Carmy said softly, “And I accidentally knocked over a container of cloves. Luckily it was almost empty, but I got a fucking mouthful. It was intense.” He was staring at her again. She felt the places where his fingers touched her burn with electricity.

“I like cloves,” Syd said stupidly. Her cheeks started burning, and she groaned. “Don’t listen to me,” she murmured. “I’m fucking delirious.” She chanced another look at Carmy. Yep, still staring. “Syd,” he said quietly. “Look at me.” She forced herself to meet his gaze. She caught him looking at her mouth. He quickly looked up and had the decency to apologize with a look. He slowly brought a hand up to her cheek, feeling her soft skin. “Do you- can I-“ his words were cut off as Sydney suddenly sat straight up in his bed, causing his arms to fall away from her. “Carmy,” Syd breathed, “I.. I just can’t. I don’t know how to do this. After everything tonight- and Claire- and you probably had hypothermia just now- it’s a lot.” Carmy squeezed her hand in understanding. “Syd, I get it. I’m sorry. I should not have put you in this position tonight.”

Syd smiled sadly, her dark eyes wide. “But Carmy? I liked this. You know, except for the part where I had to basically carry you up the stairs. And the whole me worrying about you having hypothermia part? So ok now that I’m hearing myself a lot of it actually sucked? But also I got to see at least 17 tattoos I’ve never seen before, and I’m also not saying no, OK? I just think we need some time.” She got up then to stop vomiting out words. Carmy rolled out of bed too, swaying slightly as he stood. He put his arms around her in a tight hug. She leaned her slender body into him for a second, forgetting everything she’d just said. “Text me when you’re home safe?” he asked. His eyes smoldered. Syd was pretty sure she had never smoldered at anyone. “Yeah,” Sydney said unevenly. She somehow turned around and walked to the door without passing out. As she closed the door, she saw him, still staring at her. And “Jesus Christ, fuck me,” she thought. “Those abs. Will I see those abs again?”

As she walked towards the train, she looked at her phone and saw several messages and missed calls from Nat, each one more frantic than the last. She called her immediately, explaining that she had stayed with Carmy until he warmed up. She mentioned making the tea and helping him change his clothes, but she left out the rest. Natalie thanked her profusely before hanging up. Eyebrows raised, Syd threw her hands up as she walked. Being a human was so confusing sometimes.

#ao3 #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #sydcarmy #the bear fx #the bear

[seadem-on]

Blondie and Tuco from the Good the Bad and the Ugly (1966) - a ship manifesto

Hello reader. Picking up on the old fashioned habit of essay writing, I will write about my favorite ship, Blondie and Tuco from the seminal western The Good the Bad and the Ugly, and why you should ship them too. Warning: the essay contains spoilers from the film.

First, let’s look at who Tuco and Blondie are in a nutshell.

Tuco - played by Eli Wallach - is a Mexican bandit with a long rap sheet. He is the first character that is introduced in the Good the Bad and the Ugly - freeze frame of him jumping out of a broken window with a chicken leg and a bottle of wine in one hand and a gun in the other, the writing “the ugly” (il brutto in the Italian original dub) appearing on screen. His first appearance shows immediately the main traits of his personality: he is loud, messy, dangerous and can get out of a tough situation thanks to his gunslinger abilities. But he is not your usual bandit. Tuco is very lonely too. He looks for sympathy in his older brother, a priest who instead chastises him for his life choices. Tuco has no family and no one else to turn to. His main traits are also greed and violence. He seems fun and silly but he is quick to anger and when he wants something he is extremely determined and will go to great lengths to obtain it - as for example revenge against Blondie. Wanted in more than fifteen counties, he risks frequently punishment by hanging.

Blondie - played by Clint Eastwood - is the star of the film, a deft gunslinger and Tuco’s work partner. He is introduced shortly after Tuco - he shoots three bounty hunters to save him. They have an agreement where Blondie brings him to the sheriff and shoots the noose as Tuco is about to be hanged - splitting the bounty money between each other. Blondie is dubbed “his golden haired angel” - meaning he is always watching over Tuco. His personality is the exact opposite of Tuco’s: he is calm and collected as Tuco is fiery and emotional, speaks little, and schemes a lot. He is tall, blond and smokes a cigar. The writing “the good” (il buono) appears on screen ironically just after he leaves Tuco stranded in the desert when he starts demanding more money for their agreement.

Canon evidence why they work in a pair

Where do I begin? These two are obsessed with each other. They are constantly lying, backstabbing each other or saving each other’s lives. There are no inbetweens. First Blondie leaves Tuco in the desert with no money and no gun, breaking up their partnership - and Tuco starts tracking him down for revenge. Things get pretty heated - literally, as Tuco takes Blondie on a 60-miles-long trek through the desert without water to watch him slowly die. Until they meet with a dying soldier who reveals the location of a Confederate treasure - but he tells the location of the cemetery to Tuco and the name on the grave where the gold is buried to Blondie. Since then Tuco starts panicking to save Blondie’s life which is extremely worthy to him now. He brings Blondie to heal in the monastery where his brother Pablo lives. When Tuco meets Pablo again he understands that his parents are dead, and he has a fight with his brother who does not approve his sinning life choices. Tuco leaves the monastery with Blondie, and makes up a lie about his brother telling Blondie their relationship is wonderful and his brother never wants to let him go and has prepared a lot of food for him. Blondie has actually overheard the fight and is moved by Tuco’s pain, so he just goes along with the lie and offers him a cigar - saying “after a meal there is nothing like a good cigar”. Later they arrive at an Union prison camp where Tuco is tortured by Angel Eyes, a merciless mercenary, for information about the treasure. Meanwhile Blondie is outside with other prisoners, who tell him his friend is probably being beaten, and looks worried. He is offered freedom by Angel Eyes in return for his help with the quest for the gold - and he asks where Tuco is. As soon as they arrive in a war-thorn town being fled by its inhanitants, Blondie heard a gunshot and recognizes it’s Tuco. He leaves the gang of Angel Eyes to reunite with him. After trying to kill Angel Eyes and his henchmen they get back again on the road to look for the treasure. At some point they reveal each other’s half of the secret. When they get to the cemetery, Tuco runs ahead of Blondie and finds the grave. Angel Eyes gets to the cemetery too and Blondie reveals he lied to Tuco: that is not the right grave. Only Blondie knows the true location of the gold. So he establishes to write the name of the grave on a stone and that they will have a three way showdown to decide who will get to look at the said stone. Under the desert sun, in the middle of thousands of graves, the three ruthless men face each other in a battle that entails their lives. Blondie is as always cool and collected. Tuco is nervous, his eyes darting from Angel Eyes to Blondie. Angel Eyes is calculating when to shoot. In the end, with a swift coup de scene Tuco and Blondie both shoot Angel Eyes - but Tuco’s gun is empty, having Blondie taken care of it the night before. Blondie makes Tuco dig on the right grave and find the gold - which he splits in two. To exact his revenge he has Tuco hang himself on a cross. As he leaves, he takes aim and shoots the rope thereby saving Tuco - as he’s done a thousand times before.

Their relationship is that of rivals or frenemies - they are in a constant competition and when they are not they are having bonding moments and helping each other out.

As hardened and cold hearted as they want to seem, both have some degree of fondness for each other. Blondie is often smiling at Tuco or looking worried for him - Tuco trusts Blondie with his life, and seems to recognize him a a friend in the end. One of my favorite moments is when they are at the graveyard and when their enemy shows up and point a gun at Blondie Tuco starts being defensive, and later when Tuco is drawing the gun from his pocket Blondie stops in his tracks, ready to protect him from any danger. Their rivalry has an element of mutual respect and underlying trust that can be ultimately defined as friendship - the best one they can get being criminals. Most importantly, Blondie is properly defined as Tuco’s golden haired angel - meaning he is constantly looking to save him from trouble, and even in the end, when he could have easily killed him for revenge, he chooses not to.

Also they canonically have a lot of homoerotic moments. Here a few of them:

1. Blondie leaves cigar butts at campsites and Tuco sucks on them lovingly to track him down (I’m not kidding). This is parallaled by Blondie hearing a distant gunshot and identifying it immediately as Tuco.

2. There is this extremely sexy scene where Tuco forces Blondie to hang himself, tells him to take off his pistol belt and gives him directions on how to use the rope.

3. Blondie is barely clothed on a bed and Tuco touches lightly his lips.

4. Tuco is naked and Blondie talks to him while stroking a bedpost.

There are moments of bonding throughout the film too:

1. Tuco has a fight with his long lost brother and as he leaves the monastery with Blondie he tells a lie about their relationship being happy and his brother caring about him so much he has made him a lot of food. Blondie - who has been overhearing their fight - pretends he believes him and offers him a cigar “to help his digestion”.

2. They end up in the Union prison camp where Tuco is tortured. All the while Blondie looks emotionally distressed as another prisoner tells him that they are beating his friend.

3. Tuco is about to take on 5 gunslingers by himself when Blondie shows up and tells him “are you gonna die alone?”. Tuco smiles because he realizes Blondie is actually his friend

My interpretation of the pairing

I think Blondie and Tuco are an embodiment of the enemies to lovers trope. They start out as wanting to kill each other but slowly come to unwillingly realize they harbor feelings for each other (maybe their mutual obsession could give it away from the start?!). In my opinion they find it hard to manifest their feelings because 1. They are rivals and a criminal cannot show any sign of weakness in front of their own enemy 2. They are hardened men who are too proud to confess their feelings. Despite this, it’s hard to hide they are extremely attracted to each other.

Although they seem to be holding back their feelings, they do show some signs of affection (see above). They know each other so well they can sense each other presence from a distance. (That would make for a great abo fic btw)

They know each other as intimately as anyone else ever could. Tuco is the only person who almost killed Blondie, made him vulnerable and also the one who put him back together. Blondie is the only person who knows about Tuco’s troubles with his family - and despite that he doesn’t use that to mock him but chooses to stay by his side.

Also I think when it comes to expressing feelings the one who is more comfortable with it is weirdly Blondie. Tuco is more savage and more hostile to the world in general. Blondie makes him open up little by little with small acts of kindness, and shows him what friendship and trust are like. Blondie is extremely fond of him but deep down knows that Tuco is out for himself and would kill for money - so he does his best to make Tuco survive in the end.

I love how Blondie embodies the role of the “guardian angel” and Tuco that of the “sinner”, apparently irredeemable but who is worthy of love (from the one who you least expect to).

The way Blondie seems to actually have admiration for Tuco, and considers him a worthy opponent and partner (although he would never admit to it) is mezmerizing. I love how Tuco seems to open a crack in Blondie’s hard shell and make him smile and feel things he is not used to. I love how Blondie actively wants to make Tuco feel better and take care of him.

So why should people follow this pairing?

Blondie/Tuco are a fun pairing to ship because of their differences and their love/hatred bordering on obsession dynamic. They are complex characters and their story is set in the Far West tackling themes like kindness in a hostile world, survival, friendship and loneliness. Basically you can have lots of fun exploring their relationship and the related themes.

Side note: they have an interesting ropekink/bdsm side which is still imho underexplored.

The fandom is small but the handful of us who are reading and/or creating content are very active and ready to engage with you.

Fandom guide:

- Bloncos is the first (and only) blog dedicated to them

- Meme-streets meta: in-depth analysis of the film and focus on Blondie and Tuco (look for the good the bad and the ugly tag)

- Fanfiction: ao3 is the main source, my personal recs (pls read tags)

Guarding

Bad Choices

Untold

A good partner is irreplaceable!

On The long-term effects of half smoked cigars

Gold dust in a dirty river

A partnership of sorts (series)

Rated E

Brat

A midnight intervention

Kisses

The ecstasy of c*m

What dreams may come

The Devil You Know

Short fancam:

Here by cirilee

#blonco #the good the bad and the ugly #ship manifesto #clint eastwood #eli wallach #enemies to lovers

[taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me]

Near The Water.

After breakfast was done, Mr and Mrs Potter had gone to town and the kids were discussing what they wanted to do. Right now there were two teams, one said that they wanted to play volleyball. This team had James, Sirius and Remus. The other team was for swimming which included Lily and Y/N.

Lily had woken up a little late so right now she was eating her breakfast as well. The swimming team was loosing right now as they had less members with them.

"Okay, here's what I propose." Started Sirius. "We obviously can not decide what we are going to do so we have Regulus vote."

When he said that a loud thud could be heard. That thud was Regulus closing the piano lid hurriedly.

"Wh-what?" He stuttered.

"Yeah." Said Remus. "I second that."

"I third that." Said James sitting up straight in his big armchair.

"Alright, Regulus what do you say? Swimming or volleyball with the other kids?" Asked Lily.

Regulus didn't know what to do. On one hand he wanted to go swimming, to be at peace while feeling the water on his body. But he also wanted to play volleyball, wanted to feel the sun on his skin and get out all the anger he had inside of him. He also knew that if he said no to Sirius he will throw a very big temper tantrum and that was something he couldn't, for the life of him, handle. So he replied -

"Volleyball."

Loud shouts of the three murderers rang through the living room as Lily and Y/N groaned.

"The judges have spoken and we will be playing volleyball with the other kids." Said James getting up with the rest of his team.

"Do we have to?" Whined Lily.

"Yes Evans. We have to. How else would you be able to see my hot summer body." Replied James leaning down to give Lily a kiss which made her smile and everyone else gag.

"If you want me to play volleyball with you, you have to promise to keep your dick in you pants." Said Y/N walking out of the room with a disgusted look on her face.

Regulus was amused by her bluntness.

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

Soon enough they were where all the other kids were, near the lake where the volleyball net was. They were getting ready to play but it seemed that they were short a few players.

"Go work you Italian tounge and tell them we want to play as well." Whispered James as he walked next to Y/N with his hands around Lily.

"Why me?" Y/N whispered back.

"Because I'm a little rough and I don't want them to make fun of me."

"Well not before they see you play." Added Sirius making every one laugh.

"Shut up padfoot." James grumbled. "Y/N/N please."

"Fine." Sighed Y/N. "But I will be taking compensation."

"Take anything you want. Except Lily flower she mine."

Y/N walked over to the kid that were all getting ready to play and shouted. "Ti dispiace se giochiamo anche noi?" [Do you mind if we play with you?]

"Da quando hai cominciato a chiedere Y/N/N?" Said the voice of a well built blond guy who came out from behind a tree without a shirt.

"Roberto." Shouted Y/N with glee as she ran over to him and jumped up to give him a hug, he caught just in time and spun her around. James was disgusted by what was happening in front of him as he wasn't a big fan of his sister with guys, Remus and Sirius had smug expressions on their faces, Lily was just confused and Regulus didn't know what he was feeling.

"Come sta il mio inglese preferito?" [How is my favourite english doing?] Asked Roberto putting her down but still not letting her go.

"In attesa di sudare." [Waiting to get sweaty.] Y/N replied. Roberto laughed.

"Come everyone." He said motioning everyone to come towards him. "Lets start."

Everyone one ran and they started distributing themselves in teams.

" Abbiamo una persona in più. Cosa dovremmo fare?" [We have one extra person. What should we do?] Asked on of the girls who was there.

"Mi siedo questo fuori." [I'll sit this one out] Replied Y/N.

"What're they saying?' Asked Lily.

"They're saying that there is one extra person. And Y/N replied by saying that she'll sit this one out." Answered Regulus.

"What no?" Started Sirius. "It's not fair, I wanted to watch you fail miserably."

"Don't worry about it. You will never be seeing that." Said Y/N walking back, away from the group.

"What will you do?" Questioned Roberto in his accent.

"Well, swim of course."

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

In one team we had James, Remus, Roberto, Marry and Mirabel. The other team had Sirius, Lily, Regulus, Delores and Marco. The second team was winning, and the first one was loosing pathetically. Sirius was the star of course, Remus wasn't doing so bad either, but he was easily distress by the naked Greek God in front of him.

Lily was beating the hell out of James, James was messing up a lot, Roberto was fine and Regulus was amazing. He was not the one who liked sports but right now this games was his way of taking out all his anger.

On the other hand, Y/N was sitting near the lake, not swimming yet. She was enjoying feeling the sun on her right now. Usually she had a book with her but right o she just saw the sun creeping through the leaves of trees. She could hear all the shouts of everyone playing. Everyone was shouting except Regulus, he was quite.

After a few minutes and a few victory laps by Sirius, Y/N finally decided to go swim. Standing up she took off her shoes, her shorts and her t-shirt, and walked up to the lake. Taking a deep breath, she took a step forward and jumped in.

Unknow to her, there was a person watching her. He watched her jump in and he was mesmerized by her beauty, though he though no one had seen that. He started at the lake for a few more seconds, till he was greeted with a ball on his face.

"Where is your head at brother dear?" Said Sirius.

"Perso in lei." [ Lost in her] Replied Roberto making all the Italians laugh and Regulus red like a tomato.

"What did he say?" Asked James.

"Nothing." Regulus shook his head.

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

A few hours later it was beginning to get dark and everyone was going home. James's team lost and Sirius was not shutting up about it. Everyone was exhausted and all they wanted to do was crash. They were all walking towards their house as they heard someone running towards them. Turning around they found it was Roberto.

"Hey." He said running up to them. "Tomorrow all of us are going to the club, wanna come?"

"We'll think about it and tell you in the morning." Replied James.

"Very well. See you in the morning." He said and ran off again.

"How do you know him?" Asked Remus.

"We met him a couple of years back, when Sirius didn't come here with us." Answered James.

"But how does he have a better friendship with Y/N and not with you?" Asked Lily.

"I don't know. Honestly I'm the better one, like every elder sibling, but I guess he was allergic to awesomeness." Said James.

"I second that. We elders are the best." Added Sirius.

"I beg to differ." Scoffed Y/N.

"Oh don't worry little Potter, you'll never be able to live up to us." Siad Sirius.

"Oh please. I will be able to live up to you and I will be better than.. ahh" Before she could finish finish she was picked up by Sirius. "Sirius Orion Black put me down."

"Oh never. I said I will get remember?" He said entering the house with everyone chuckling around them. "This is me getting you."

"I will kill you." She said as she punched his arm.

"Oh you have wounded me, you have killed me." Sirius said dramatically going down to the ground with her. "I'm going down, Jamesy help me."

James, Remus and Lily were laughing their butts off as Regulus just cracked a small smile. He could feel that this summer was going to be different.

Taglist:

@lendeluxe @ogstark @s-we-e-t-t-ea @allise4 @kazbekkarluvbot

#regulus black x reader #regulas black #regulus black #sirius and regulus #maraduers #james potter #c: remus #remus loves sirius #remus john lupin #lily potter #lily evens #sirius being sirius #summer #beach #x yn

[noyatv]

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐫𝐚

warning: this starts all the way back in 2012, when y/n was 14 and conor was 18, 3.5 year age gap, y/n is said to be born in winter-spring, y/n's sister's name is victoria, victoria is like 7 years older than y/n, y/n is southern italian-american, y/n's family is considered 'old money', victoria is a songwriter, probably really badly translated italian (i haven't done my duolingo lessons), also your implied to be a nepo baby, 2016 drama, taylor swift is over party makes an appearance, these aren't my beliefs, ima diehard swiftie, conor is a simp, k***e west and psycho fans, yn and conor break up briefly, yn is linked with a lot of people, you have an older brother who is like 4 years older, his name is lorenzo, he isn't that important rn

the timeline of conor and y/n's relationship

2012 Hyannis Port, Massachusetts ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵉᵗⁱⁿᶢ

Victoria had recently returned from Brandeis for summer break, at least, that's what my mom said.

The beach was nearly deserted, aside from blond and brunette leaning on a rock halfway across the beach.

Without another thought, I pushed myself to my feet, slipping my hand in the back pocket of my shorts, placing my phone in the pocket. The strides I took to my house ended up taking me a different way; to the Kennedy Compound. Ethel, who was on the porch, had babysat us when Victoria and I were younger, supporting us on our misadventures around the beach.

"Hi, Ethel!" She seemed to escape from her trance, eyes lighting up when she realized it was me.

"What're you doing here? I haven't seen you or your sister in so long, how are you?"

"Just walking back from the beach, Victoria's back from college."

"Tell her I said hi, will you? Stay out of trouble!"

"I will!"

I shuffled over the sidewalk, until I reached the house on Scudder Avenue, Victoria's dented Toyota was parked in front of the house. From the window at the top of the door, I could see Victoria sitting at the kitchen island.

The door creaked as it opened, Victoria's head snapping to the left.

She had cut her hair shorter. Her once shoulder-length brown hair had now been chopped down to her ear.

"Taylor's coming over for songwriting. Just thought you might like to know that," she yelled towards the stairs once she heard the creak and thumping of the old wood stairs.

Not even ten minuets later, a knock reverberated from downstairs.

"Victoria!" I yelled, hoping to have my voice reach her ears, but it fell on deaf ears. "Victoria! Porta qui il tuo culo!" Again, no response.

Another knock made an appearance.

"I'll be there in a second!"

The leg of the table behind the couch seemed to have extended a few inches out, forcing a shriek out of me as I stubbed my toe. I made my way to the door and opened it.

"Hey, come in." I stepped aside to let Taylor in, and to my surprise, another person.

"Thanks, this is Conor." She gestured to the male beside her. "Where is Victoria?"

"'Dunno," I shrugged my shoulders. "I'll look for her, make yourself comfortable."

I walked through the kitchen to get to the backyard door. She was sitting on the steps of the porch, presumably watching Lolita, her Chihuahua, run around the yard.

"Taylor's here, she's waiting for you."

2016 ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵖᵒᵗᵗⁱⁿᶢ

Italian-American singer-songwriter Y/N Buscemi recently dropped her debut album, and was recently caught making out with 22 year old Conor Kennedy, her friend's ex-boyfriend, Taylor Swift.

Y/N Buscemi is an 18 year old singer-songwriter who has been making waves in the music industry since her debut album dropped. She is the daughter of Italian immigrants and comes from a long line of wealth and privilege.

Buscemi is a multifaceted artist who writes her own songs, and her sister Victoria is a songwriter who has written for both Y/N and Taylor Swift. Y/N's music has been described as an eclectic mix of genres, ranging from pop, hip-hop, to rock.

The recent news of her and Conor Kennedy, Taylor Swift's ex, being caught making out has only added to the mystery surrounding her as an artist. While it is unclear why the two were together, it has been speculated that they were discussing music, as Kennedy is also an aspiring musician.

Neither parties have commented on the situation, leaving us to question what the nature of both relationships.

Y/N Buscemi is an exciting new artist to watch, as she continues to make her mark in the music industry with her debut album. With her unique sound and style, she is sure to make a lasting impression.

What do you think? Leave a comment.

𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ²⁴⁹⁸ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉᶰᵗˢ

sachasen 1hr ago Not surpised that he went for his ex's friend

taylorSNAKE 30 min ago glad her friends are now seeing how much of a snake she is!

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ynbuscemi Grazie, Austin! You have lived up to your reputation!🫶 photo credit to jconorkennedy (ti amo)

redbullracing You should come support us ↳ynbuscemi No thanks, I'm more of a Mercedes girl

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Y/N Buscemi, the 18-year-old Italian-American singer-songwriter, has been seen with 23-year-old Jack Schlossberg, who is the cousin of her 22-year-old boyfriend Conor Kennedy. This sighting has sparked rumors that Buscemi and Kennedy have broken up, and that Schlossberg may have played a crucial role in the split.

Buscemi, who is originally from Plymouth, Massachusetts, has been gaining recognition in the music industry since she released her debut EP in 2015. Since then, she has been performing at venues across the country and collaborating with other artists. Her music is described as a combination of indie-pop and alternative rock, and has been compared to the likes of Halsey and Lorde.

Kennedy, who is the son of Robert F. Kennedy Jr., first began dating Buscemi in June of this year. Since then, the couple has been spotted together at various events, such as this year's MTV awards. However, recent reports have suggested that the couple has called it quits, and that Schlossberg may have played a part in the break-up.

Schlossberg, who is the son of former U.S. Ambassador to Japan Caroline Kennedy, is an actor and writer. He has appeared in several films and television series, including the Netflix series “Grace and Frankie”. He is also the founder of the social media platform “My Friend Jack”, which is focused on helping people find their support systems and connect with others.

Given the age difference between Buscemi and Schlossberg, as well as the fact that he is related to Kennedy, it is understandable why people are speculating about the nature of their relationship. However, neither Buscemi nor Schlossberg have publicly commented on the rumors.

In the meantime, fans of Buscemi can look forward to the release of her new single, which is due out later this month. With her music career continuing to take off, it will be interesting to see what the future holds for this talented young artist.

#x reader #female reader #taylor swift #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x reader #conor kennedy #conor kennedy x female reader #conor kennedy x reader #begin again

[crimson-amarone]

Chapter 10: How I Met Your Milly

Chapter Summary:

Previously, Clark and Meryl began traveling together to December, getting to know one another. Clark is still recovering from his encounter with the Grand Worm. The next day, Zazie appeared with more warnings.

Now, Clark gets a clue on Mxy’s whereabouts, learning about the LOLL’s involvement. Arriving in December, Clark’s powers begin acting up. Meryl heads to Bernardelli and meets with the Chief and her new partner.

Start reading chapter 10

——————————————————————————

Chapters: 10/? (see chapter 10 snippet below)

Fandom: Trigun Stampede (Anime 2023), Trigun (Anime & Manga 1995-2008), My Adventures with Superman (Cartoon), Superman - All Media Types 

Rating: Mature (Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Language, Adult Themes)

Pairings: Clark Kent/Lois Lane, Meryl Stryfe/Vash the Stampede 

Characters: Clark Kent, Vash the Stampede, Meryl Stryfe,  Lois Lane & Jimmy Olsen, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Milly Thompson, League of Lois Lanes

Story Summary:

Two years after Lost July, an interdimensional rift becomes dangerously unstable, opening a portal between universes—the worlds of No Man’s Land and Earth-12.

Outlaw Vash the Stampede is still MIA, although rumors abound. Despite not knowing if Vash is truly alive, both Meryl Stryfe and Wolfwood catch a lead pointing them to a remote town iles away.

Elsewhere, young Clark Kent’s life is turned upside down when he’s dragged to an unfamiliar planet to help as Superman. Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen follow his trail with some unlikely assistance.

Two heroes must make new allies to fight ruthless villains in a three-way conflict. All while trying to find where they both belong, face their inner demons, and make a better future for their worlds.

Start reading from the beginning

Chapter Snippet:

Meryl raised a hand to knock on the Chief’s door, but a looming figure knocked her over instead. The figure was that of a very tall, brownish-blond-haired woman. 

A large stack of papers went flying all over the hallway. Apparently, she hadn’t seen the uncommonly short woman.

The tall woman wore a simple, loose-fitting white button-up blouse with a red tie and brown trousers. Not only was she at least six feelz tall, but she was also rather broad in the chest and shoulders—her loose clothes didn’t help to slim her. 

Except for that, she was quite doll-faced, with crystal blue eyes and the friendliest of smiles. Her long hair framed her face charmingly and curled up at the ends. Her locks bounced cutely when she tilted her head.

The tall woman yelped and bent down, flustered about whether to start picking up the papers or help Meryl up. 

When the two caught each other's eyes, the woman lit up, eyes sparkling and mouth in a wide open smile.

“Oh my gosh! You’re Miss Meryl Stryfe, aren’t you? I’m terribly sorry for bumping into you, silly me!”

The taller woman grabbed Meryl with both hands and pulled the shorter woman back to her feet as if she weighed nothing. 

“I just can’t believe I ran into you! I hoped to meet you yesterday, but the Chief said you caught trouble on the road and would be a day late. I do hope you are alright, ma’am! The roads are a very dangerous place to be all on your own.” She shook a pointer finger at Meryl like a mother would a child. 

Meryl straightened her clothes and brushed them off. “Um, yes, I’m just fine. Uh, have we met before?”

Start reading chapter 10

#trigun stampede #trigun #my adventures with superman #maws #tristamp #fanfic #crossover #fanfiction #meryl stryfe #superman #clark kent #milly thompson #chapter 10 #the ticket to tomorrow #trigun x superman #tristamp x maws #trigun stampede x my adventures with superman

[beneathashadytree]

Hello if possible could you write about a Zeppeli! Reader that looks very similar to Caesar and is friends with Josuke and when they meet Joseph he mistakes the Zeppeli! Reader for Caesar

HOUSE OF MEMORIES - JOSEPH JOESTAR ONESHOT

Warnings : general feelings of grief, mentions of death, Zeppeli!reader, this is purely platonic, this is not proofread, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : angsty but also kinda fluffy?

Word count : 0.8K words

Additional notes : Thank you so much for requesting! This was a brilliant idea, and very easy to write. I like writing platonic stuff every now and then, and this had a particularly good twist of angst to it. I hope you enjoy reading this!💗💗💗

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp.

Masterlist

“Hey, Josuke!” someone called out from the back of the docks, causing the teenager to turn around.

He found his friend, standing at the back and waving at him as they jogged to their direction.

“Hey, uh, a little preoccupied at the moment.” Josuke nodded his head in the direction of the old man who was currently holding onto his arm as he slowly walked forward.

They looked confused for a moment, before Koichi came up to them and whispered something in their ear. Their eyes went wide. “Ah.” About to introduce themselves to the old man whom he now knew was Josuke’s supposed father, Joseph, they were stunned to see that his eyes were as wide as saucers behind his spectacles.

“Caesar?” the man gruffly asked, green eyes glimmering with something no one quite understood. “Is that you?”

Perhaps they had no idea what this was all about. After all, neither Josuke nor Jotaro knew anyone with that name, and Joseph had never been in any hurry to tell the stories of his years of youth and the misery he carried back with him. He’d shoulder it all with a laugh and a cheeky comment that made everyone forget about the momentary darkness that snaked its grip around him every now and then.

Josuke’s friend looked like someone from his most blissful dreams and his most haunting nightmares. They had the same brilliantly shining green eyes, pale skin that almost reflected the light, and blonde, almost white hair that tumbled down in shapely waves. Perhaps the only things that set them apart from the beloved person in his memories was the scatter of dark freckles dusting their nose and cheeks, and the slit in their left eyebrow.

Seeing them in high school uniform was unsettling, when the last time Joseph had seen an uncannily similar face, he’d been dressed in the most outrageous fashions of the 1930s; an age the old man both remembered fondly and dreaded. And though he thought for a second that perhaps this was all just a figment of his imagination, the gentle hand that touched his free one, and the kind look in those eyes were very much real.

“No, sir,” they softly said, “Cesare era il mio prozio. Ceasar was my great-uncle, may his soul rest in peace. I am a Zeppeli as well.” Smiling gently like one may do to console a grandparent, they asked, “I take it you are Joseph Joestar?”

Joseph seemed to be stunned for a few beats, before tears began to well up in his eyes, and his shoulders began to sag as he nodded. “Has anyone told you…”

“Many a time, yes,” they chuckled, “As many times I’ve been told about your benevolence and great deeds. You’ve become somewhat of a legend in our family, sir.”

Their words only caused him to sniffle as the tears fell down his cheeks, something that shocked both Josuke and Jotaro, who’d been watching the exchange. Jotaro was probably the most dazed by the sight, as he’d never found his grandfather this vulnerable; to the extent that he’d shed tears—in fact, it was likely that no one but Suzi ever had.

“But I failed him,” Joseph mumbled under his breath, shame flooding his face, “Your great-uncle, I was too late. Too brash. I let him go all alone.”

They sighed, a small sad smile on their face as they saw how tortured the man was about this after all these decades. Now both their hands clasped Joseph’s, reassuringly patting it. “And he lives on through your memories. Do not pity the dead, kind sir. It would be a disservice to the both of you.”

Swallowing thickly, Joseph looked up to meet their eyes. Strange, how now that he took a good look he could no longer see the strength of the resemblance. It almost felt as though a mist had cleared from their features, and he could make out the things that stood out to him as not being the same as Caesar’s, if his memory was serving him correctly.

“On second thought, you are quite different, after all,” he murmured quietly, an odd feeling of long-awaited peace settling over him. His muscles seemed to have lost the tension that had been keeping them stiff for the past 60 years, and he could swear his limbs felt a little lighter.

Perhaps this was the closure he never knew he needed, but had secretly been desperately clinging onto. Perhaps now he could breathe a little easier, and live out the rest of his years surrounded by those he could call family, quaint as it was.

Taglist: @mrsgiovanna @blondeboyfriend

#imagine #oneshot #fluff #anime #angst #jojo #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jjba #joseph joestar #joseph joestar oneshot #zeppeli #jotaro kujo #kujo jotaro #josuke higashikata #higashikata josuke #jojo oneshot #jojo fluff #jojo angst #diamond is unbreakable #diu #jojo’s bizarre adventure diamond is unbreakable #jojo part 4 #oldseph #ceasar zeppeli #grief

[enchantedchocolatebars]

A BIO I MADE FOR MY WITTEWIFE, CLARA!🧡💕🤎✨

Snatched the bio template from 👉here👈.

General Information:

Full Name: Clara Clawthrone.

Nickname(s): Claire, Eclair, Love, Dear, Cutie, Sweetheart, Charmer, Enchanter, Witchling, Good Girl, Bad Girl, Wench, Hateable Sorceress.

Age: 25 (long hair) 26 (short hair).

Gender: Female (She/Her).

Place of Birth: The Demon Realm.

Date of Birth: September 22 aka First Day Of Fall!🧡🧡🧡💕💕💕🍁🍃🍂✨

Species: Witch.

Occupation: Being pretty. Kidding! Saleswoman actually lol! She could be spotted a lot in the town's marketplace trying to sell little knick knacks and trinkets.

Skills / Abilities : Magic wielder!🔮✨

Voice: Tw//ilight Sp//arkle (M//y Lit//tle P//ony) And Il//ana (S//ym-Bi//onic Tit//an).

Status: Deceased.

Appearance:

Height: 5'4.

Weight: 130 lb.

Skin Type: Fair.

Hair Color: Shifts during seasons. In winter and fall, she's a full brunette with bits of orange in her hair. But in spring and summer, she's 🧡half🧡 and 🤎half🤎 lol.

Hair Style: (Left) Long and lovely! (Right) Short and super cute!

Eye Color: Green.

Clothing: Medieval / Renaissance / Fantasy style dress!

Accessories: Her staff!

Features: Her most prominent features are her freckles! <3 Also her cowlick! <3

Relationships:

Family: Mother, Father, Older and Younger Sister (she's a middle child), her baby.

Love Interest/Crush: A CERTAIN BLONDE.(⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠)⁠♡(⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡(⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾⁠3⁠＾)(⁠●⁠♡⁠∀⁠♡⁠)

Friends/Allies: Being a friendly and outgoing witch, she's made alot of friends / allies on the Isles, but her bestest, most closest friend and ally of all time has to be her blue jay palisman, Syrup.🐦💙

Enemies: Uh, DEFINITELY Philip after that cave incident... That man really killed her hubby and JUST ran away. Coward.

Other Information:

History: Clara Clawthrone had a happy childhood growing up. She was a bright and bubbly little witch who loved her parents and sisters dearly.❤️ As a kid, she had a huge fascination with magic! Seeing it being used and using it herself was always a fun experience! Speaking of fun, as a teen, something else she found fascinating were humans and romance! She's never met one, but she's seen images of them. Alot were cute! Especially the boys.💕 A witch falling in love with a human might sound absurd to some, but to Clara, it was a dream come true! Almost like something in a fairy tale! Now an adult, that fantasy would soon become reality when the witchling one day crosses path with one in the marketplace. His name is Caleb...

Personality: Clara is a cute, cheerful, and carefree witch with a heart of gold and an eye for adventure! She's also quite inquisitive, always asking questions about new or unknown things.

Quote(s): "Ooo, can I touch it?" (I just feel like that's something you would hear her CONSTANTLY say lol).

Likes: Adventure, magic, fun, learning new spells / things in general, baking, birds (specifically blue jays), making friends, falling in love, gardening, dancing, dresses, using her fists in self-defense, being a bad girl™ rebel, children, dolls, flowers, sparkles, fireworks, shopping at the marketplace, and being a Clawthrone.

Dislikes: Long lines, bad attitudes, running out of / not having enough snails, her freckles (sometimes), upsetting someone she loves, feeling alone, getting hurt, seeing plants die, Caleb's fate, crooked daggers, and having her heart broken.

Goals: Finding the love of her life and getting the chance to one day travel the Isles with them.💕

Habits: LATE NIGHT SNACKING AND OVERSLEEPING.

Flaws: Her occasional naively and ditziness. Also, her tendencies to act immature sometimes.

Trivia:

• I named Clara 'Clara' because I think it goes well with the name 'Caleb'. Also, it's got 5 letters like Caleb so lol.😁

• She would LOVE chocolate and beef jerky.

• Her favorite flowers are orange lilies!🧡

• Is strong enough to pick up Caleb bridal style (and definitely has lol).

• Is pan💖💙💛

#(SHE🧡💕🤎✨) #(HER🧡💕🤎✨) #(THE GIRL🧡💕🤎✨) #(*posts this and waits for canon to tell me how wrong i am🙂*) #(ngl bios for oc's are not my strong suit but hey at least i had fun writing this😅) #the owl house #owl house #toh #clara clawthrone #wittewife #writing #my writing

[operafantomet]

POTO DUBAI

Lifting up a question from a previous post:

"Any comments on the Dubai production? From what I have seen on Instagram, the colour palette of costumes is strangely muted, it looks a bit drab as a result, unlike the opulent original. Cheaper no doubt, but looks about 10-15 years too late in terms of silhouettes. Erik’s organ in its rocky niche is a nice gothic touch"

The current Middle East Tour started its life as a sit-down production in Romania in 2015, with design by Andrew Riley. The same production opened in Norway in 2018, but then massively vamped, with pimped sets, a new and fierce chandelier, and an overall upgraded costume design. This production continued to Greece, and now the Middle East, closing in Dubai as we speak and heading to Kuwait Bulgaria next.

I agree that the palette is fairly muted. It's an incredibly blue production, if anything. There were scenes I would have wanted a splash of colour, of red, of green, of pink, of yellow. After two hours there is a certain blue overdose. The overall mood is this:

But I like the set design a lot. Moody and monumental but still with enough blank spaces where the imagination can kick in. And very much a nod to the Palais Garnier throughout, but other angles and details than Bjørnson's design. I am especially fond of the ever-present Garnier-esque proscenium and chandelier, as well as the "torn" drum-structure featuring the organ or dome on the other side, and a diagonal staircase on the other side.

The mock operas and the glittering mirrored hall for Masquerade are the only to break the "blueness". Here's the main look for Il Muto:

And the two main looks for Masquerade, the first being very golden, and the second very red.

As for the costume design being a bit "late" for when POTO is traditionally set - yes. I've done two off-hand interviews with people involved in this production. One of them told me that it was the London office encouraging non-replica productions to seek out other time periods, other styles, other looks, to not become Maria Bjørnson blueprints. That is why you have inter-war style in Estonia, non-defined or modern-day style in Finland, Serbia and Bulgaria, 1860s movie clone in Poland, and Edwardian/Belle Epoque in this particular production.

(there ARE non-replica production doing full-blown Victorian, hereunder Hungary, Czech Republic and the Mediterranean version, so it doesn't seem to be set in stone. But the word used was encouraged, not demanded)

There also seems to be a will to do things opposite of the original. "So the Phantom wears his mask on the right side? Then we'll go left!"... "Oh, so Christine is a brunette? Then we go blonde!"... "Oh, so Meg is a blonde? Then we go brunette!"... Yeah.

I hope that answered your questions/comments and gave some links and stuff to explore further :)

#poto romania #poto norway #poto greece #poto middle east tour #phantom of the opera #andrew riley #non replica #scenography #costume design