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mamirhodessxox · 1 month

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One request. 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Angry black suit cody. 😍😍😍

That's all.🙃🙃🙃

Ask and you shall recieve shnookum 🤓☝️

Settle Down

Cody Rhodes x Fem!Reader

Desc: Cody fires himself up during his Monday Night Raw promo which results into Y/N having to help calm him down backstage.

Contents: Fluff, Cussing, Y/N being a sweetie, angry cody 🤗‼️ (No smut in this one since next oneshot will include smut)

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

“The Rock, took to instagram last week following up with a very entertaining rock concert, too bad he didn’t wanna be here tonight..” the crowd booed “Rock referred to himself as our favorite heel..?” Cody’s voice echoed throughout the arena talking & saying “The nature boy rick flair was a heel. Rock..I don’t think you’re a heel I think you’re an asshole..” Cody scowled directly into the Camera while standing inside the ring as if you two were making eye contact despite the fact you were backstage watching this all go down on the tv that laid against the wall of his dressing room.

“Haven’t you been crying behind the scenes this whole time? I mean once that hashtag came out once they started chanting something else, you went and CRIED to your buddies on the TKO board ‘HEY HEY! This is gonna be some good pr for the rock I need to save wwe’ god knows look at thise house we sure needed saving right?! He said it’s gonna be this great pr for the rock until it wasn’t..” Cody ranted while circling around staring directly at the live camera & you immediately noticed that he was beginning to fire himself up the more he spoke.

“Rock, the TKO folks said to you oh my gosh yes rock yes put on your gucci shirt your muscles will look so big YES YES YES YES! The reason they said it is because they are YES people they are enablers they don’t tell you like it is, so I’m going to.” Cody scoffed as he went on another tangent on how he could admit many things on the Rock but then he pissed himself off so much to the point where he started becoming more verbally agressive “Rock you are also a terrible Salesman a carny succubus and for those who don’t know what that means..Your a whiney BITCH.” He snapped.

Y/N sat in the dressing room staring directly into the fury of his eyes right through the television screen, all this talk about the rock had genuinely started becoming angering to him & bothersome that he somehow managed to upset himself the more he spoke. “You haven’t been in the ring in real time action in YEARS! And April 6th the BELL is gonna ring! What happens rock when it rings? Are you gonna have all that Big Dwayne Energy or LDS?! Little. DICK. Syndrome!” He shouted while all of the fans within the arena started Chanting, Cheering, Shouting waving around their signs while even the announcers chuckled to themselves.

For the rest of his promo he continued ranting, shouting & even going as far as making a sudden deal with The Wiseman Paul Heyman, threatening to pull a Homelander & rip out his throat if he didn’t get to the point which left Paul a little shocked. Once his promo for the night was finished You immediately left the dressing room just as he rushed his way backstage huffing and puffing mumbling with Jey & then approaching you hut you held up your hands that lightly knocked against his chest about to speak but you shook your head

“Cody I can tell you’re pissed off, You upset your own self just by talking about Dwayne alone & before You do anything like take off the suit, get comfortable, go to the bus I need you to grab some water & take a breath.” You spoke softly as you noticed his hands were shaking in irritation and inner rage before he took a deep breath & exhaled while nodding.

“Good. Now let’s get you out of that suit & into the bus before Pharaoh looses his mind..” you pat his shoulder while you two went to the dressing room. You helped him get undressed and for a moment he just legit stood there with boxers on ranting his heart out “Had the nerve on him to mention MY mother y/n and complain about me shedding ONE tear ONE SINGULAR TEAR but this entire time he’s bitching and WHINING to TKO” he started shouting a bit while you folded his suit & packed it away. You turned around & started shushing him softly and pat his chest “Baby your yelling, Settle down okay? I know your pissed hell I would be do if someone talked about my parents like that. But I need you to lower your voice, your throats gonna go raw. Like Monday.”

Cody chuckled at the corny joke you had made to help cheer him up while pulling him into a warm hug as you practiced deep breathes with him “Thank you sweetheart I don’t know what i’d do without you.” You smiled shrugging “I don’t know either.” He snorted and pressed a kiss against your lips “alright now pipe down a bit.” You laughed before giving him one more kiss.

Cody was not an easily angered man, until things like his parents or loved ones getting mentioned but when he had You around? He was going to go a long way when you knew how to calm down in the right ways.

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

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runa-falls · 10 months

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Soo, (reffing to fluffer ff) how do you think the boys would react if they couldn't request you because you're working with somebody else or if they see you working with someone else?

ooooh shitttttt 🫢 alright, let's explore that shall we?

a/n: uhhh….i’m so sorry that this took so long omg 😭 i love you nonnie, i just forgor~ i'm making a second part to this where they find out reader was an amateur porn star before she became a fluffer :3 it's mostly all smut ngl, so anyway...

cw: explicit smut w/ jake only.. sry marc/steven hoes (18+), jealous!marc [angst, fluff], soft!steven [fluff[, out-of-pocket!jake [straight smut], inaccurate depiction of sex work, dirty talk, not proof-read!!

w/c: 1.7k [my baddd]

Fluffing for Others:

Being a fluffer was your job before you met the boys and you continued to do it after. The thing is, after you met the boys, you were so busy working with them that your already limited work schedule had no space for other clients.

But occasionally, one of your earlier clients will request you months in advance for a big project, and you have no reason to decline them (that is, until the boys convince you to stop working).

Marc [slight angst, fluff]:

"Sorry baby, I can't make it Tuesday, I have another client--"

Marc was just telling you about his next production that's set to film in the next few days.

Of course, he springs the gig on you just as it's about to happen.

He always does this, assuming you'd be free, and happy to join him. He never gives you more than a week to prepare, and usually you're fine with it. But this time, you're busy.

"Wait, another client?" You nod, but he's still not getting it, like he can't believe his ears. "Like a different client? Like an 'outside of this body' client?" You sigh.

Of course, he's reacting like this.

"Yes Marc, an old friend called and booked me for the week. I put it on the joint calendar, didn't you see it?" His eyebrows furrow as he takes in your words. "He's doing a movie length exclusive, so he called way in advance."

"But...but what about me?" He pouts -- literally pouts -- as he walks closer to you, backing you against the kitchen counter.

You raise a brow, "What about you?"

"What am I gonna do?" His hands hold you by the waist, pulling you close while he nuzzles his nose against your neck. He does this when he's trying to comfort himself -- buries his face against your body and holds you close.

He's so dramatic.

"Don't be so whiney, Marc. A girl's gotta work too." He hmphs in discontent as he hoists you onto the edge of the counter. You loop your arms around his neck easily and make him look at you. His soft brown eyes shyly meet yours, "I don't complain when you fuck your co-workers."

"That's--"

You send him a warning look, "I swear to god if you say it's different..."

"No, you're right, honey..." He's sheepish when he looks at you, realizing how his jealousy got the best of him once again. "I just...want you all to myself sometimes." You peck him on the cheek, then his jaw, then his neck, suppressing a smile as he leans into you with a sigh. He's so easy.

"I'm yours, baby." His hands squeeze at your waist at those words. He loves hearing you say that. Loves that you're here in his kitchen, always ready to receive his needy affection.

"So... are you free next week?"

You snort.

"Marc, you can't keep moving your productions for me. You could always find another back-up fluffer..."

"Not doing it without you." He mumbles, lips brushing against yours.

You lean into him and your noses nudge against each other. You're not quite kissing him, but when you're looking into his eyes like this, it feels just as intimate.

"Yeah, I'm free."

He grins, "Good. It's a date." He captures your lips in his and you wrap your legs around his hips to pull him closer.

---

Steven [fluff!]:

Telling Steven was pretty easy. He knew about it before you even told him, seeing it on the 'family calendar' that you forced each boy to join.

"You need a ride to production Monday? I could call you an early cab as we don't have a car and all. Don't want you to have to catch the bus."

Steven is lying next to you, having woken up in the body this morning. He's always been more of a morning person compared to the other boys, despite looking perpetually tired.

"Aw, thanks honey, but I'm fine. Their sending a company car since it's such a long filming schedule." You snuggle up closer to him, craving his warmth from the morning coolness that blows through the flat. He lets you settle against him, wrapping an arm around your torso.

"A company car? ...fancy."

"Anything is fancier than our usual walk and transit ride." You giggle against the thin fabric of his shirt, slightly muffling your words with how closely you cling to him.

Steven is dressed in Marc's pajamas: a tight undershirt and briefs, clothes you rarely get to see Steven in when he's fronting. Usually, he prefers looser clothing made of soft and comfy materials.

You can't complain though. Seeing Steven (unintentionally) show off his built body while acting all cozy and sweet makes you heat with want.

"You don't mind I'm working for other clients again?"

He tilts his head as if he's just now considering it.

"No, why would I? It's your job, just like how I have mine."

You pause, surprised by how cool he is with it.

"Oh...yeah."

“I actually thought you'd be doing this more often..." You look up at him, meeting his soft and sleepy gaze, "I mean, I thought everyone would be requesting you." He whispers, unsure if you'd appreciate his comments.

You hum, "I only had one company that hired me as a general assistant and only three regulars." You smile at him, remembering the first time you met him, "But then I met you guys, and you took over my whole life."

"...Then we met you, and now you're our life." Your heartbeat picks up at his words. It feels like something is squeezing at your chest in the most pleasant way possible.

Steven never realizes how poet and sweet he can be. You truly believe he just says whatever is on his mind.

"But you still work, and I still need to work..."

"You’re so beautiful, sweetheart, anyone would be lucky to be in your presence, let alone touched by you.”

You bite your bottom lip, hard.

How can he say such wonderful things? Make you feel so tender and loved that you could fall apart under his gentle gaze?

Intense emotions tighten in the back of your throat and all you can do is hold him closer, clutch him until he can feel what you're unable to voice.

"I love you, Steven. You know that right?" It's barely rasped out, but he hears it.

"Of course, darling." He pecks the top of your head, "You know I love you more, though."

A smile pulls at your lips, "Impossible. I love you so much you can't even comprehend it."

He chuckles before offering his rebuttal, "Well actually..."

---

Jake (NSFW 18+):

Jake took it as well as you thought he would...

His hand squeezes lightly at the sides of your throat, testing the waters as he continues to rapidly thrust into you. You wince as his fingers dig into the fresh bruises that he suckled into your skin earlier.

“Bet they wish they could fuck you like this...feel you quiver around their cock," You groan as he angles his cock to drag against the walls of your cunt, expertly nudging against that explosive spot inside of you. "But they can’t, because your mine, right honey?”

You nod wordlessly, barely able to comprehend what he said.

He buries himself deep inside of you with a huff and holds himself there until you're squirming under him. "Right?" He grits out, frustrated with your lack of response.

Your body shakes as his cock continues to press flush against the back of your cunt, sending sparks of overwhelming pleasure all over. You feel so full, completely stretched, and filled to the brim; you can barely move without crying out.

"Yes, yes, please, Jake, I'm yours--"

He pulls out briefly before swiftly pushing back in and it feels like you had the wind knock out of you. "That's right, baby, take it. Show 'em who you belong to."

You shutter out breathes as he works himself into your body, holding you down so you can't move a muscle without him knowing. Sloppy sounds remind you just how needy you are for him, how much you love it when he treats you like this.

Jake lets you go and work for clients, but he'll be damned if you go without his mark on you. Without a physical reminder that you're his.

It's not that he doesn't trust you, he just doesn't trust them.

You're the perfect woman, someone he couldn't resist when he was just a client to you. So how can he be sure your other clients won't try to woo you like he did?

"Fuck, honey," He growls, grinding his hips against yours, wanting to be as close to you as possible so he can cum deep inside of you. "You're so good to me, letting me do this when you gotta be on set in an hour..."

Your head is tilted back, and eyes are closed tight as you desperately try to hold back your orgasm, waiting for him. You whine as he rubs your clit, legs trembling around him.

"Please, Jake, cum for me...c-cum inside..."

"You gonna keep it all in for me, baby? Keep me stuffed inside of you as you jerk some loser off?" You cry, clenching around him as he coos at you, unable to hold back anymore.

"Mm... that’s right, honey, let go. Go ahead, soak me." He grunts when he feels you flutter around him and pushes in deeper, enjoying how tight you get when he talks dirty to you.

You writhe pathetically under him as you ride out your high, whimpering as he sharply fucks a few last thrusts into you before painting your walls with warmth. He fills you so much it starts to drip out of you as he pulls out.

His fingers push it back in before anymore could escape and ruin the couch under you. He hums thoughtfully as he fingers you, making sure you're all filled up for the day.

"Looks like you're ready for work." His eyes drift over your lust bitten lips, the marks covering your neck, and the mess at the center. He smirks, proud of his work.

"Thanks, baby." You smile sweetly.

You really do have the best boyfriends in the world...

#anon #pornstar!moon boys #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockely #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockely x reader #steven grant fluff #jake lockely smut #marc spector fluff #too many tags

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cuubism · 1 year

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@magnusbae challenged me to write smut using professional email language, and i'm nothing if not a slut for abusing corporate jargon!

-----

>> Saturday, March 26, 8:32pm – Morpheus <morpheus @ dreaming.com> to Office (All):

Subject: TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

I do not appreciate tardiness. Cease your dallying at once come Monday morning. Or there shall be consequences.

>> Saturday, March 26, 8:41pm – Hob <robert @ dreaming.com> to Morpheus:

RE: TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

Morpheus, mate, all due respect, what with your being the sole god, ruler, and iron-fisted authoritarian of the place, but do you have nothing at all better to do than send work emails on a Saturday night?

And before you say, "but Hob, you yourself are replying to emails this Saturday," you are so right! I’m currently drinking alone :)

>> 8:42pm – Morpheus to Hob

I should fire you for such insolence.

>> 8:47pm – Hob to Morpheus

Do it then :)

Alternative proposal: we commit several HR violations like we did in the office on Thursday.

>> 8:50pm – Morpheus to Hob

All proposals must be submitted to me in writing.

>> 8:52pm – Hob to Morpheus

You really want a paper trail?

>> 8:56pm – Morpheus to Hob

It has an email trail already, does it not?

>> 9:05pm – Hob to Morpheus

Please find attached my detailed proposal.

attachment: :)_version_1.docx

>> 9:07pm – Morpheus to Hob

This is twelve pages that only say, “I want to suck your dick.”

>> 9:09pm – Hob to Morpheus

What, have you got edits or something?

Do you need more time to review? Wanna circle back on it later? Block some time on my calendar to go over it? ;)

>> 9:15pm – Morpheus to Hob

My redline is attached.

attachment: :)_version_2.docx

>> 9:17pm – Hob to Morpheus

I’m amenable to those changes.

But on second pass I think we can accomplish more in this partnership. I think I’d like to take you apart slowly, have you begging. You’re always demanding, I think it might be good for you to beg for once. It’s not good business to agree without a little negotiation. I wanna see you beg for my cock.

What are your thoughts on this addition?

>> 9:40pm – Hob to Morpheus

Hi Morpheus, I hope this finds you well. Just following up on this question :)

>> 9:50pm – Morpheus to Hob

Perhaps I am considering.

You may wish to consider that I am your boss.

>> 9:53pm – Hob to Morpheus

I think there’s been a miscommunication. You seem to be laboring under the misapprehension that I give a fuck about that.

>> 9:54pm – Morpheus to Hob

I truly should fire you.

>> 9:55pm – Hob to Morpheus

Don’t you think you deserve to cum first?

>> 9:56pm – Morpheus to Hob

After I beg for it, you mean?

>> 9:57pm – Hob to Morpheus

Now you’re getting it.

If I correctly guess that you’re in your bed, that you’ve BEEN in your bed while you’re “considering,” do I get a gold star? Employee of the month?

>> 10:00pm – Morpheus to Hob

There is no possible universe where you win such an award.

However, your supposition may be correct.

>> 10:02pm – Hob to Morpheus

Excellent, so we’re on the same page, then :)

Are you touching yourself? Are you imagining it’s me touching you instead? Because I’m imagining I have you under me and I’m fucking into your tight hole instead of my hand. (And typing emails w/ one hand is not so easy btw).

>> 10:03pm – Morpheus to Hob

I have two fingers inside me. But it is not enough. I would have your cock.

>> 10:04pm – Hob to Morpheus

I think you know what I wanna hear.

>> 10:05pm – Morpheus to Hob

…Please.

>> 10:06pm – Hob to Morpheus

There’s a good boy.

Don’t worry, love, I’ll give you everything you want. You’re taking me so good, I just know it. Going to feel it for days.

>> 10:07pm – Morpheus to Hob

I am.

Yes

I would have you come in me. If you’re amenable.

>> 10:08pm – Hob to Morpheus

Fuck you make me so hot. Yeah I’m amenable. Will you cum for me first? Can you cum just from the feeling of me inside you?

10:09pm – phone call from <unknown>

“I thought… you would want to hear it.”

“God your voice… did you get this number from the HR directory?”

“What if I did?”

“Kinda stalkery but kinda hot. Are you close?”

“Very. I… I want you. Badly. Please, Hob.”

“I have you, darling. Ah, you beg so pretty. You can come. I want to hear you. Can you do it without touching yourself? Be good.”

“I can’t—”

“I know you can. Go on. Imagine me with you. Holding your hands to the bed so you can’t touch yourself. I can imagine how beautiful you look. I’d kiss you if I was there, wreck your mouth, too.”

“Hob—”

“Go on. For me?”

“Ah—”

“There you go, sweet thing. I wish I could see you.”

“Will you… come for me now? So I can feel you inside me?”

“Fuck—”

“Good. You feel… so good. Worthy of employee of the month, perhaps.”

“Oh, fuck you, Morpheus. You don’t even have awards at this place.”

“Of course I don’t. That would be inane.”

“Are you satisfied with my efforts, at least?”

“I am pleased to say that I am.”

“Still, I think we should probably debrief that meeting. You wanna touch base about it in person? Say… eleven pm? My calendar’s clear.”

“…Yes.”

#wow this is the first smut i finished in ages. no surprise it's the one that's only dialogue. fuck writing descriptions of things XD #dreamling #magnusbae #dreamling fic #my writing #there are so many good ones i didn't get in this. 'bandwidth' 'let's connect on that' 'can you provide some color' etc

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 4 months

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Has lecturing started again for you yet? How are you feeling about the new semester? I know here in Canada all us staff can't wait for springtime lmao

Just started back this week, so too early to tell yet. We've experimentally shifted our first years to start and finish an hour later on Mondays though, because none of them were turning up when they had to start at 9 (their Mondays were 9-11, 11-1, 2-4, and even those who did turn up were visibly wilting by 12). Seems to have worked? We had most of them on Monday, and none of them seemed to be fighting sleep in the stupidly hot room, so that's good. Teething problems, though - in spite of them being told over email, Teams, WhatsApp and in person about the time change, two still claimed they didn't know about it, and one said she knew the first lecture was starting at 10, but didn't realise it applied to the others as well. But it just goes to show it would be a funny old world if we were all alike.

Also I need to mark their first semester assignments. Sob.

But I am Thinking Positively. Perhaps I shall read them and discover they all produced a first class piece that will be a joy to read! You never know! I look forward to finding out

#asks #the professional world of careers and tasks

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ghouljams · 9 months

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God i love moon so much. Cowboy soap too. There’s no question to this ask, i just- ah i fucking love those two. Moon is seriously fighting their way to be my favorite darling. Just the concept of them, their dialogue, their behaviors- *chiefs kiss*

Love me some moon n’ soap.

Now give us Birde and Gaz, this is a threat. /j

Hope ur having a good day Ghoul! Always good to read ur blog -Lurk 👁️

Would you settle for 1870z Birdie and Gaz?

You think it’s sort of silly to keep you in the hold overnight, you’re barely drunk and you didn’t hit the gunslinger that hard. You’re sure you’ll hear about it when you see the kids on Monday. Bad gas travels fast in a small town and all that. At least the company is good. You like the deputy well enough, though you’ve only seen him around. Never had much reason to interact with him before tonight.

“I’ve got me a ranger with the prettiest eyes, he’s sure a straight shooter even when he lies, but give him a horse and he’ll race out that door, leavin’ me cryin’ like a penniless whore.”

“Teachers shouldn’t say whore,” Gaz tells you with a smile, you wave a hand at him from behind the iron bars.

“You didn’t like the drinking songs, I’m improvising,” You hum a few more bars, trying to think through your usual catalog. You’re not really an entertainer, but you’ve never had so many complaints about your singing.

“What’s your name again?”

“Kyle,” His smile could light up a cave, you’ve never seen eyes sparkle like that.

“Come in, come in, my love Kyle,” He laughs, you take a moment to enjoy it before continuing, “stay with my this night, you shall have both ale and coal, my fire burning bright.” You hum filling in for the usual guitar. The cell isn’t cold, but there’s a nice chill from the night air. You close your eyes, lean your head back against the wall of the cell. “Well I won’t come in, I can’t come in, I won’t come in at all, there’s a lady ten times fair than you, waitin’ in lord barnets hall-”

“I don’t buy that,” Kyle cuts in, you blink open your eyes to look at him.

“What?”

“I don’t buy it,” He drags his chair closer to the cell.

“Which part?”

“Never seen anyone half as pretty as you, but ten times?” He shakes his head, rests his elbows on his knees as he leans forward, “That’d have to be an act of God.” You let out a breath, jerk your head to the side so you stop looking at his sincerity. Lord this man is making your cheeks hot. You press the back of your hand to your face to try and cool it down.

“D’you flirt with all your prisoners?”

“Only the pretty ones," he sounds far too genuine for you to keep pretending he's joking.

“You think I’m pretty now, you should see me without the drunk and disorderly charge.” You joke.

“I have,” He says, “seen you, I mean. You’re a fuckin’ miracle, like walkin�� sunshine.” See that's just unfair. You aren't supposed to be sweet talked by the man that pulled you out of a bar fight just shy of an hour ago. You'd think that should've scared him off of thinking you're heaven sent.

"You're not supposed to keep thinkin' that after you see me fight," you can't explain the way your voice quiets, or the rush of your pulse in your ears. You think maybe you're embarrassed, weird you don't usually get embarrassed by this sort of thing.

"Probably not, but that isn't gonna stop me," Kyle leans close to the bars of the cell, reaches a hand to brush his knuckles against your cheek, "Don't get shy on me now, Teach, I still wanna know where you got that right hook."

"Birdie," you grab his hand, lace your fingers together, "my friends call me Birdie."

"What do I call you if I don't wanna be friends?" His thumb strokes the back of your hand, his eyes warm as they stare into yours. You hardly notice the bars between you, too focused on his smile, the crease of his cheeks and the little scar under his eye. You wonder how he got that, and if he'd tell you if you asked.

"I don't know," You hum, glancing around the cell, and the sheriff's office, "but I suppose we've got all night to figure it out."

Price stares down at you and Gaz asleep in the holding cell. Passed out on the bench and cuddled close as can be. He pinches the bridge of his nose, tries not to be angry at this. He knew Gaz was pining after you but this is just ridiculous.

"Either of you mind explainin' how this happened?" He asks the room at large. Gaz at least has the decency to sit bolt upright at the sound of his voice, knocking your head off his chest and onto the wood seat. He keeps his hands on your hips, protective, to keep you from falling off the bench and onto your ass.

You grumble something and push yourself up onto your hands to wipe the sleep out of your eyes. Price raises his brows and fixes Gaz with his glaring, since he's the only one he has any real control over. You don't even have the decency to look embarrassed, untangling your legs from Gaz's so you can sit properly and soothing your hands over your skirt. You stand and try to scoot past him with a "Sheriff." He scruffy you and drags you back to sit back on the bench.

"Believe I asked you two a question, and I don't like repeatin' myself," he presses.

"Is Goose boarding a gunslinger?" You ask, blatantly trying to change the subject. Price points a finger at you, then brings it to his lips. You shut your mouth quickly. He points at Gaz.

"Broke up a bar fight, met my wife, must've passed out while we were talkin'." He rattles off, you turn to look at him and mouth:

"Wife?" Gaz gives you a small smile and a shrug. You turn to look back at Price and nod. Price sucks in a breath, and lets it out in a hiss before nodding.

"Alright, out, before word gets out and you don't have a class come Monday." You scramble to your feet, and slip past him to get out of the cell. You give Gaz a small wave which he eagerly returns before Price hears the office door open and shut. "Since when are you two chummy?" Price asks when he's sure you're gone.

"Since she nearly knocked Ghost's lights out and I had to carry her back here kickin'." Gaz runs a hand over his head, scratches his neck, a lovesick look in his eye.

"Mean right hook on that one," Price nods. Gaz hums, staring at the door past him. Price rolls his eyes and smacks his shoulder, "Alright, go after her. Can't have you moping around here all day when we've got work that needs doing."

Gaz grins and wastes no time shouldering past him and out into the bright Texas sun.

#kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick mw2 #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick #gaz x reader #gaz x oc #x oc #oc: birdie #in which birdie gets to sing and Gaz gets the girl hes been watching since he got to town #you know she caught him staring a couple times and brushed it off #oh also birdie punched Ghost for touching Goose #but Price doesnt need to know that #deputy!Gaz #1870s!cowboy #lurk #👁️ anon #i love moon and Soap's dialogue too theyre so fun to write

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accio-victuuri · 5 months

Text

of photoshoots, hot search, pants & bjyx 🫶🏼

i’m putting this out now incase i get busy at work later and won’t have the time to compose a post. but this is the cpn and some thoughts on what happened this morning. aside from us barely surviving bazaar’s attack! those photos are amazing! i haven’t recovered yet and i cannot wait for the interview ✌🏼

( using this as a header cause the photographer said it’s their fave)

days before this release, there were already some melons about the magazine cover. i personally shared the one about wyb cause the source seemed legit and fan clubs were confirming too. aside from that, it was also supposedly the day that marie claire will release teasers for xz’s january cover. tho i remember hearing before that his is supposed to be march. again, we can never be so sure with these melons. magazines don’t really care about overlapping with their release cause it depends on the season/month. today for example, there are 3 other magazine covers released aside from yibo’s.

however it’s interesting that it didn’t happen between xz and wyb. they totally could. even just the teaser wouldn’t hurt. i may just be clowning too hard and going by their pattern of not having their project overlap but i think this is an example. or maybe the melons were all false.

Anyway, this morning, xz marie claire was on hot search cause the teaser was supposedly gonna be posted 10:05 but there was nothing. which is not surprising cause it was a rumor. it was funny tho how people were effectively clowned 😂😂😂

it’s v interesting to see both their names + magazine cover on hs. this is why magazines would always love to feature them cause of the audience they bring. aside from the quality and professionalism too. years later, they are still relevant and will be for a long time!

there are also some side by side edits by cpfs because of the tank top they wore. they really do match! tho a small part of me is kinda wary when things like this are shared cause it could easily be picked up and used as xz vs wyb by brainless yxh. for international spaces the likelihood of that is small so it’s really more on weibo.

the fans have good intentions and i understand the tendency to but their similar shoots side by side and all that— i guess i’m just paranoid at times 🙃🙃

their beauty is so effortless!!!! and they both gravitate towards keeping things simple & real.

this too, the curls! the hair! i will forever be thankful that the military haircut era is over and hopefully shall never return!

the shoot also made wyb’s lip mole more pronounced. it reminds of the fake rumor that wyb said xz took away his mole. lol. he didn’t! it’s still there and they match 🫶🏼

MY FAVORITE THO IS HOW XIAO ZHAN WENT ONLINE REAL QUICK then went offline again. I remember probably 11:48? and he was online for 13 minutes. Some were low key in panic mode cause what if he posts something? Is he gonna share something about Marie Claire? It’s on HS already so it would make sense. But no. This bitch went online and dipped 😂😂😂😂

The posting for WYB’s materials was 11-12 so he went at the perfect time when all the photos are already released. So we are clowning that he is online to see the photos and save them all . Did he forget he was on his main and not side account? LOL. What a coincidence. Out of all the days and timeframe he can go online for bit, it’s now? When a certain someone’s magazine content is being released? 👀👀👀👀

Lastly, the pants WYB wore for the shoot is by Courreges which is the same brand ( not exact same pants okay? ) that XZ wore when he went to Singapore. Yes, the one we were clowning about. What a coincidence! 👁️👄👁️

that’s all. i might post another part to this if something comes up. happy monday ^^ 🦋

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do #OKAY I HAVE TO SLEEP NOW #what a great motivation to get through this week 💪🏼

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joels-darlin · 10 months

Text

Monday Morning - The Situation

Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ only. kidnapping/hostage situation, violence, angst, hurt, allusions to rape, mentions of weapons, restraints/being tied up, mentions of blood and injuries. (I think that's all sorry if I missed any)

Summary: A standard Monday morning commute to the DEA office takes a harrowing turn of events.

Word count: 1592

Author Note: What's this?! I'm writing for Peña AND its more than 800 words - absolute madness. This is not my normal go to for fics but I wanted to push the boat out and give something new a try. Not a lot of Javi in this one but there will be a part two which I'm currently writing so all shall be revealed. Any feedback is appreciated, thanks all ♥️ Special Note: Just a huge thanks to @ladybess-a03 for pushing me to do this. I've had the idea for ages and without your support it would of just got left in the pile forever - thankyou ♥️

AO3 Link

Darkness. That was all you could see right now; complete darkness. The blindfold on your face clung to your skin, the mixture of blood, sweat and tears. This was not how you had expected Monday morning to go.

Since accepting the accepting a job with the DEA and moving to Columbia permanently (Bogotá to be precise) you had spent the past 10 months integrating into the team alongside fellow Agents Javier Peña and Steve Murphy - getting up to speed with the case and assisting hunting down drug lord Pablo Escobar. It was a seamless transition both agents welcoming you with open arms. What helped was the friendship the three of you had struck up outside of work, often out drinking in local bars or over at Steve’s for some home made food from Connie. It was nights like those that made the long stressful days much easier.

So you thought nothing of it when you where approached by, what you assumed, was a couple of nuisance sellers on the streets in the middle of grabbing your morning coffee from the cart. It was something that happened on occasion, young men, women or children trying to make a living.

What took you by surprise was when one of them pulled out a gun, the barrel aimed to your head. The taller of the two stepped back throwing a heavy punch square to your jaw rending you completely useless. In one swift motion, before you could even recover or defend yourself the feeling of cool metal around your wrists - handcuffs. The all too familiar clicking of the lock. Then came the darkness, a blindfold shoved around your head.

All your instincts told you something was wrong and turns out you where right to assume so. Next thing you where being bundled into the boot of a vehicle which proceeded to tear through the streets of Bogotá. Trying to remember the various twists and turns the vehicle had taken so you could figure out at least what area you where in, no use everything was just a blur. The anxiety in your chest and the dull ache in your head contributing to the oncoming brain fog, making you unable to remember any small detail.

The car eventually came to a halt the boot lid being ripped open exposing you to the humid Bogotá air. Yelping as one of your now kidnappers roughly grabbed your upper arm dragging you out of the boot setting you on your feet with a thump.

“Camina perra!” He sneered in a rough voice, lips so close to your ear you could feel the saliva drops coming from his mouth, knowing enough Spanish to understand what that meant.

“No no let me go please” screaming, pleading from the top of your lungs; thrashing and resisting as hard as you physically could. It was no use though they where too strong. You had never given any thought to how you would react in a situation like this. No number of years training could help right now either, these where the men of the biggest drug lord in Columbia and would stop at nothing if they got they information needed. But right now you where frightened which was evident in the way your chest ached and body shaking with anxiety. Showing a vulnerable state compared to hardened persona of the DEA agent showcased by day. There was one thing you where sure of though they weren’t getting any information from you, no matter how hard and long the torture was. At the back of your mind you knew from previous informants and victims of the Pablo’s men how this often went, a cold chill jolting down your spine at the mere thought.

“What do you want from me!!” you screamed the moment the boot lid popped open, voice raw, croaky from the sheer amount of tears shed. Not a word from either of them just grabbing you by the arms again in a vice grip, dragged from the car with force. The lack of energy in your body was making it hard to fight. You battled with what you had left but they continued and as a warning landed a few punches/kicks across various parts of your body; knowing there would be a rainbow of bruises the next day. If you even made it that far.

It was no surprise when you where thrown onto the cold metal of a chair in what you assumed was a derelict room, not hard to miss by the stench of damp and death in the air or the sounds that echoed around across the walls; dripping water, footsteps. The stagnant air filled your burning lungs with every breath bringing with it a sickening twisting feeling to your lower stomach.

The handcuffs that adorned your wrists earlier removed only briefly so they could secure you down to the chair. Glad that you had chosen to wear jeans today as the rolls of duck tape where tightly wrapped securing your ankles to the chair legs. The sounds of the footsteps where moving away shortly after, they where leaving?! Now all alone with just your thoughts.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed since you where still virtually blind. Only when the sounds of the squeak from the door hinge opening, then came the footsteps. Signalling to you that someone…no two people had entered the room. Off came the blindfold the sharp pain in your scalp as few strands of hair where ripped from their follicles - a painful reminder of the once harrowing darkness. Squinting your eyes surveyed the room, adjusting to the limited light from the yellowing lamp that hung in the centre of the room. Eyes landing on the two figures stood in front of you. They where broad, one bald and one not. Dressed in the finest cotton shirts and jeans money could buy. Fancy loafers adorning their feet - definitely part of Escobar’s crew you could just tell. The faces though you where unable to be recognise, never ones to have cropped up frequently during surveillance before.

“Now now you are going to co-operate otherwise this. gets. ugly.” The taller of the two spat as he moved walking slowly to circle your frame tied to the chair once. Like he was getting a good view of his prey and you swear you caught him licking his lips at one point. You swallowed loudly, throat thickening. He approached slowly eye on yours as he leant down, leaning closer lips next to the shell of your ear whispering.

“So what’s a pretty little girl like you doing running around with the DEA huh. We know who you are and well…lets just say you are going to do us a little favour - that clear bitch?”

The hot breath on blowing over your skin making you shiver violently. “Keep your mouth shut don’t say ANYTHING” crossing your mind repeatedly. He moved backwards kneeling slightly, now at level with your eyes.

“Did you not hear me? ANSWER THE QUESTION” he bellowed standing up to normal position again voice echoing around the room. His hands curled into fists at his sides, rage evident. You sat completely still not moving a muscle or uttering a word. Then came the punches, one to your stomach, head, face - anywhere he could reach really. You where bleeding now the punches so hard it had split the skin in various places, feeling the trails of blood running down your skin. There was a metallic taste flooding your mouth, the busted lip from the blows that occurred moments ago.

“ANSWER. ME. NOW.” the fury in his eyes was present as you shook your head refusing to answer. Scared to open your mouth know no voice would even come out if you wanted too.

“Playing the long game huh? okay I see how it is then” he sneered, chuckling ever so slightly. Walking back over to the other man he starts barking orders.

”Remove her from that chair and take her next door…I want her on the bed ready for me in 5 minutes…two can play the long game” and then left.

It took a few moments to register what he meant by that and when you did you clenched your thighs together, hoping and praying he wasn't going to follow through with his words. You broke down begging, pleading as the bald man loosened the ankle restraints before roughly hoisting your frame over his shoulder, carrying you into the dark room and dropping you on the mattress. The sound of the door slamming as he left.

He was already there. Waiting in the corner a harrowing smile spread across his face. Watching as he approached the bed, fingers working to undo the belt buckle at his waist. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, a fresh set of tears spilling from them. The feeling of the mattress shifting next to you caused a wave of anxiety to crash over your body. You lay there hoping that this was going to be over quickly.

It was over. For now. Broken, bruised and beaten you remained in a fetal position on the dishevelled mattress sobbing; wrists and ankles still bound together. All clothing stripped from your lower half, a dull ache between your thighs as a painful reminder of what you had endured not so long ago.

There was one shred of hope that you clung to - hoping that Javi and Steve would find you soon.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction

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oneeyedoctogod · 7 months

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Disclaimer: long, extremely personal rant. Yes, it's also about mdzs and Jiang Cheng but mainly, it's about me trying to deal with my own trauma when I'm being hit in the face (metaphorically) with it by putting my feelings into words. The posting is so I don't erase it and force myself to forget about it.

You know it's funny, but as I was trying to sleep (and failing. Badly. It's 2:38 am.) I kept on finding myself thinking about why I didn't like Jiang Cheng. Because you see, it's rare for me to dislike a character that much, to the point I actually have blacklisted all his tags and avoid any fics that talk about him positively.

(Again, this is an extremely personal post about my own feelings. This is not meant as a rebuke if you love him. On the contrary. Keep doing what sparks joy. Just, you know, far away from me.)

I have a funny history with the mdzs fandom. I first started watching the donghua when it started airing back in... 2018? 2019? Can't remember for sure. Then I was left hungry for more because only the first season had aired, and it ended on a big cliffhanger. I saw it was an adaptation, so I went looking for the source material... and found the manhua (I was used to japanese animation at that point and thought that was it). The manhua was also being fan translated, and despite being extremely different (and confusing for poor past me), ALSO left me on a cliffhanger. I was desperate and saw someone pointing out there was a novel! I finally found it, read it in a few nights, and loved it. I read a bunch of fics, enjoyed myself, met and befriended people. Then I moved on after a while. I remember, distinctly, that I wasn't a big fan of Jiang Cheng but that I could at least stomach him in fics.

Last December, I felt the urge to reread some mdzs fics. I read some popular ones and, after falling into the animatics and amvs rabbit hole, decided to rewatch the donghua. Except for some reason, Jiang Cheng's character rubbed me wrong. I remembered not liking him much but he wasn't that bad in the fics so I couldn't see why he was so distasteful in the donghua. I'd been warned that the donghua wasn't that faithful (my own memory was extremely hazy), so I just shrugged it off. Maybe the people behind the donghua weren't fans of jc?

I saw there was an official translation of the novel and, by that point, DEEP into the hyper fixation, I bought all four available volumes and read them. At the same time, I was still reading fics. It was fine after all, I already knew the story.

By then, I had realized something was a little wrong with the characteristization. Some of the tropes given to Wei Wuxian rubbed me the wrong way. I looked it up a little (remade a tumblr, found amazing meta, the rest is history) and figured "Ah that must be cql fics. That's the problem."

And yes, that's true. In part.

The other problem lies with the particular way some people write Jiang Cheng. I'll be clear again: I have nothing against those people. Most of them I don't know and I'm aware this is very much a, shall we say, "me" problem. It's why I avoid the positive Jiang Cheng content. I don't care if you keep writing it so long as you keep it away from the canon jc tag.

But whenever people write Jiang Cheng and completely erase his crimes and abuse of both Wei Wuxian and Jin Ling, I feel it like a slap on the face.

Last Monday, I saw a therapist and talked about her about many things (I did warn this would be a very personal post). Part of it was my mother and her treatment of me and my brothers. And after barely a few words, she said, very simply "Oh so your mother abused you."

I already knew that. I use those words myself to describe my history with her. But the validation is always nice to hear, you know? Especially because so many people try or have tried to brush it off as "nothing." My own mother did, both about her own behaviour and when I was being abused by other people and tried to seek her help. Hell, even I still do it sometimes.

And I think that's why I hate Jiang Cheng so damn much now. His canon self is... Well, I'm not a fan, but he's a well-written antagonist. But dear gods, I've seen so many people brush off his canon characteristics to make him into a more palatable character, the loving uncle, the funny tsundere brother, the ace guy who hates mushy romance (let me tell you, as an ace person I am also real fucking tired of homophobic characters being hc as ace)... Even the ones who mention his bad parts feel the need to immediately add his achievements, as if they don't dare speak badly of their fave. "Yes, he tortured Wei Wuxian, but he also sacrificed his core to save him!" "Yes, he hit and verbally abused Jin Ling, but he also lovingly raised him!" "Yes, he tortured and killed innocent people but he also has trauma and had to lead a sect when he was so young!"

And this feels familiar, every time. This feels like the people telling me "Yes but it's not that bad" or saying "Yes your mother gave you panic attacks but she made sure you didn't fail at school" or "Yes but she made you love reading" or "Yes but she gave you so much, don't be selfish" or "Yes but she was here for you when you were depressed" or "Yes but she has it hard too" until I fell in the habit of saying "Sure, my mother insulted me and threatened me financially and there was a long, long time I was convinced she didn't love me... but."

Always that damn BUT.

So you might be able to understand why I have a hard time with Jiang Cheng when people pull the same shit all thenfucking time. I'm working on it because I'd rather not be stuck feeling anxious about a silly purple grape just because he happens to be fandom fave in my current hyperfixation but in the meantime, I have to deal with it and it's... annoying. To say the least.

(I'm going to insist here: I know that Jiang Cheng isn't my mother. That's not the point here. I am fully aware he's a fictional character and that me feeling that way is something I should be working on. I am. And I'm not telling people to stop writing positive content for him. This is just me trying to put into words my complicated feelings for a complicated character. And ranting, a little bit, about badly tagged fics I admit.)

It's easier on social media. You just block the characters tag and, if people bother you about it, you block them. Friends being friends, I just need to tell them "I don't feel comfortable talking about this character" or "let's agree to disagree on this interpretation" and because my friends are the best, they agree and we move on.

Fanfiction is where the problem lies.

I know why people erase the 'hard' parts, or at least I have a good guess. It's easier that way. Fanfiction is about having fun! It's about writing about your blorbos the way you want to! I don't want to police anyone's content. I'd just like it if people tagged their OOC and stopped trying to make me feel as if I'm the one who misread the book because I don't feel like erasing the canonical abuse this character did or because I don't like that they keep putting down my favorite character to uplift theirs.

I'm not sure how to conclude this. I should be sleeping honestly.

Let's try this: if you read this to the end, congrats I guess. I want to reiterate I don't care if you make Jiang Cheng into the most loving, best brother and uncle ever. Just be aware of what you're erasing first. And tag your goddamn fics.

#screaming into the abyss #not sure whether to tag this as the fandom or not #let's go with no #we'll see tomorrow if i feel differently #feel free to reblog so long as you stay respectful #this isn't about hating on people #this is about me working through my problems so that trauma doesn't color my view of a character #if i dislike a character i want it to be because i find them obnoxious #not because their fanbase remind me of my mother #gods I'm tired and I'm sad

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embodyingchaos · 7 months

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Hello again!!!can I do an ask for the episode when sebastion throws the slushie in blaines face and the reader just attacks him? (Sebastion deserved a beating for that ong) or could you write about when coach bieste first showed up and when everyone was avoiding her the reader does their best to talk to her(bieste also deserved better, shue and sue were jerks)??? THANK YOU

❥ hiii! so glad to see you on my asks again! i shall write the first option! i apologise that this is late and short and the ending is so abrupt 〒▽〒

definitely deserved pairing: glee x gn!reader genre: platonic, angst warnings: light violence, light assault, sebastian being an ASSHOLE, not rlly a character x reader word count: 1.5k

walking through the library on a monday morning was the usual routine for y/n, rummaging through books for research and song ideas. just as they took a book off a shelf, they were jump-scared by the face of a beaming rachel berry.

“holy shit, rachel. you can’t just do that to a person.” y/n scolded, placing a hand above their chest, trying to calm down their rapidly beating heart. “sorry, was wondering what you were up to. needed something to get my mind off… something.” rachel said suspiciously, looking like there was something heavy on her mind as she walked around the bookcase towards them. y/n noticed the tension but decided not to pry. “i’m just looking through some things.” the two of them made their way to the seating area, joining quinn and tina who were having a conversation.

“hey, guys.” y/n greeted, taking a seat beside the blonde. the two only smiled and waved.

y/n went through their books as the other three had their conversation before blaine came strutting into the library, singing a michael jackson classic, ‘wanna be startin�� somethin’’ alongside kurt, mercedes, santana and brittany. the four joined immediately, used to this at this point.

they all regrouped at the choir room soon enough and discussed about the first michael jackson number they’d do for the weak, planning out costumes based on some of mj’s iconic outfits.

after the rehearsal, a small part of the glee club met up after school the next day. “okay, favourite michael jackson memory. go!” blaine tells them and they all smiled. “when i was one, my mom showed me a vhs tape of his motown special, and when he did the moonwalk across the stage for the first time in history, i uttered my first words - ‘hot damn.’.” y/n grinned at the thought of a baby artie saying those words, finding it totally believable.

“i owe the king of pop a deep debt of gratitude. he’s the first one to pull off the sequined military jacket long before one kurt hummel made it iconic.” kurt boasted, “i have to be honest. i never really got him.” rachel’s words immediately caused everyone’s faces to morph into disbelief. “no way.” “and we are no longer on speaking terms.” y/n and artie share a look.

rachel quickly defends herself, saying she believed he is an amazing performer but she never really got what he was about. though these reasons did not calm them down, y/n could understand where she was coming from.

“okay, but just since you guys are so jazzed about him, i think it’s a good idea for regionals-” “that might not be the best idea.” a new voice entered the discussion and it was a voice they all dreaded. “hey, blaine. hello, everyone else.” sebastian smythe, a member of the dalton academy warblers and basically kurt’s arch nemesis. “does he live here or something? seriously, you are always here.” kurt asked incredulously, flabbergasted at the fact he showed up out of nowhere. y/n snorted before taking a sip of their drink.

artie ignored the two of them, “why don’t you think that’s a good idea?” “because we’re doing mj for regionals.” at sebastian’s words, y/n sighed into their cup before sinking further into the leather armchair they were on. “you see, warblers drew first position, so as soon as i heard what your plan was, i changed our set list accordingly.” he explained with a smug expression on his face, y/n really wanted to punch him.

“i’m sorry, how did you hear?” rachel asked, fully upset. “blaine told me this morning.” y/n’s head turned to look at blaine who only rolled his eyes at the boy, “i just called for a tip on how to get red wine out of my blazer piping, and he would not stop going on about it.” at this point, the whole group was staring at him with an accusing look.

blaine avoids their gazes, “i may have mentioned it.” “how often do you talk?” kurt’s question makes sebastian fake chuckle. “oh my god! hey, kurt! i didn’t recognise you. you are wearing boy clothes for once!” santana had enough after that. “alright, twink, i think it’s time that i show you a little lima heights hospitality.” this made y/n throw their head back against the chair in exasperation, “unless you want to join your relatives in prison, that’s probably not the best idea.” sebastian’s comeback only makes them feel worst. y/n tuned him out as he talked even more, wanting nothing more but for him to leave and go away.

when he did, they sighed. “thank god. i thought he’d never shut up and leave. he’s like those never-ending interactive voice responses you get on automated telephone systems. he never shuts up.” y/n groaned, sitting up straight again. “we need to do something about michael.” kurt announced and they all nodded, agreeing to discuss what to do the next day.

the next day came faster than it could. everyone piled into the choir room and were complaining about the whole incident when puck suddenly spoke up about his suspicions over how blaine was still somehow a warbler. “come on, blaine’s with us. he’d never intentionally hurt our chances at winning regionals.” y/n defended, walking into the room with their sling bag, taking a seat beside blaine.

blaine gives them a grateful smile, “either way, he’s on notice as far as i’m concerned.” “we should all be on notice.” finn interrupted his best friend, trying to reason with them. “i mean, next to vocal adrenaline, the warblers are the best glee club in the state and for a lot of us, this is our last shot at a championship, so we should stop complaining about the warblers and figure out how to beat them.” finn told everyone, being the voice of reason as usual.

“i couldn’t have said it better myself, finn.” mr. schue commented, walking into the room. “i’m less worried about our set list right now, and more interested in getting us in the right mind-set to crush those guys. which is why our lesson for the week is…” with a marker, he wrote down on the whiteboard ‘wwmjd’. “what would michael jackson do?” “he’d fight back. he’d say regionals is ours. mj is ours, and if they want it, they can pry it from our sequin-gloved hand.” y/n grinned at finn and nodded along, “mhm. straight up. in 1983, mtv said they wouldn’t air his ‘billie jean’ video, what’d he do? he fought back, they aired it and the thriller album sold an additional ten million copies.” artie added and y/n only stared at him, “you’re like a michael jackson encyclopaedia.” they commented quietly, the boy held a hand to his chest. “why, thank you.” he gratefully said.

blaine smirked, “i know what michael would do. i think he would take it to the streets.” at his words, the whole room filled with excited mutters. y/n kept quiet, though. they couldn’t help but feel like something was going to go wrong with this, terribly wrong.

after the glee club dispersed, they tried to chase blaine down before he got too far away. “blaine, are you sure this is a good idea?” they asked as the two of them walked to the entrance of the school. “i’m sure it’ll be all good. we’ll show them that they’re gonna regret taking michael from us, and then we’re going to get him back.” the former warbler said excitedly before heading out the door. “god, i hope so.” y/n whispered to themselves, clutching their bag tightly.

the day of the showdown arrives quicker than they expected. they’d all agreed to wear matching leather jackets, after kurt’s persistent determination, to have some unity. it was the new directions against the warblers after all.

at the sound of santana’s snap, the rest of the group came out and they started their jackson-off. truth be told, having a dance and sing-off in an empty parking lot was a very 60s thing to do but y/n had no complaints. their only complaint was that the more the song progressed and the closer they got to the ending, they’d seen one of the warblers grab a paper bag.

y/n’s eyes widened when they realise that sebastian was going to slushee kurt. “kurt!” they yelled but blaine had thrown himself in front of the boy, getting the liquid assault instead.

blaine yelled out in agony at the impact, falling to the ground as he pressed his palms against his eyes. everyone froze but y/n couldn’t handle it anymore. “you fucking asshole!” they clenched their fist tightly and laid a hard punch against sebastian’s face, making him stumble back towards his group members. “y/n.” finn warned them, placing a hand on their shoulder to calm them down so they don’t rip their rival into shreds.

the warblers soon fled the scene with guilty looks on their faces as they helped sebastian stabilise himself and walked off. the new directions could see that his lip was bruised and his cheek was swollen when he passed by. it was easy for any of them to say, he’s definitely deserved that punch in a while.

#glee masterlist #glee x reader #glee x gn reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #blaine x reader #blaine anderson #blaine anderson x reader #blaine anderson x reader platonic #reader insert #sebastian smythe #angst #violence #assault #darren criss #grant gustin #platonic

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srbachchan · 11 months

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DAY 5601

Jalsa, Mumbai June 18, 2023 Sun 11:25 PM

Birthday - EF - Amrit Singh Manku .. Monday, 19 June ... wishes for this day for you and love from the Ef brigade ..❤️

🪔 .. June 19 .. birthday greetings to Ef Amritvir Singh Manku from London .. thank you for all your affection .. stay safe and protected .. ❤️ from your Ef Family ..

to ask of you to give to accept to love my love to you ever .. that be the express of the day at the GOJ .. and the apprehensions exist .. as I do the ‘sitting’ by the self in wonder .. will they be there, will they be happy , will they cheer .. so many if and wills theys ..

be the insecurity of the creative mind ..

but when I walk out ..

there is nothing quite like it .. and I shall ever remain in wonder of its blessing ..

and the several mean of the interpretations get different mean to the each .. and each look at it with some disdain at times and some in incessant questioning .. how wonderful to be in such state of uncertainty .. on the part of the other ..

it be as bad as the bike ride and the helmet ..

किया कराया कुछ नहीं ; अंडे फोड़े २० वहीं !

those, Hindi challenged , be not in worry .. it be nothing .. at all ..

but it needs to be said that the times in the Saptaswar be the most inspiring even though they produce nothing of value .. someday perhaps but at the moment , nothing at all ..

many that felt the poem of Babuji wrote in to appreciate the condition of its appearance .. at the most opportune moment .. it related to many .. and the condition they were in ..

the genius of a poet is demonstrated by the attachment his words give to the reader .. each must be the poet .. each must identify the mean of the word expressed .. many a time has Babuji expressed this in his write ups .. in the forwards of the fresh material .. in the pre and post .. such a joy to be able to read the mind as it develops creativity .. to share .. and give to the prospectus of an entrant the needed advice , path and inspired hand on the back ...

what we become and what we conduct in our path necessarily has the adventure of the elder .. it needs attention and deliverance .. for in time that is what shall be given to yours .. and his to his .. and on ..

.. another day approaches by the morrow which shall be spent in ‘sitting’ .. sitting and thinking ..

love and may the night be of pleasant rest ..

Amitabh Bachchan

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mean-scarlet-deceiver · 8 months

Text

This Shouldn't Be as Relatable as It Is

"With the bogey of Sunday rates of pay, the LMS Northern Division ran those Sunday services on a veritable shoestring. Only Glasgow Central station was used, and one locomotive depot, Polmadie. Signal boxes were switched out wherever possible. From Paisley to Kilwinning, there was no box open except Glengarnock No 2, which was kept open for the ironworks. Staffs at stations were the minimum.

In June 1927 the LMS took a really daring decision, advertising a Sunday Excursion from Glasgow to Portpatrick on 18 June from Central station. The G&SW men had been complaining that they were getting no share of the Sunday jobs, so authority said to Corkerhill, 'Here you are. Run this excursion to Portpatrick. Put on two of the heaviest engines which are permitted, and give the job to your two senior passenger men.' So Corkerhill chose two big-boilered Manson 4-4-0s, Nos 14374 (ex-346, ex-157) and 14261 (ex-389, ex-259), of the 18 and 240 classes respectively. They gave them to the two oldest drivers, Sanny Rowan and Dick Gaw, who had been leading a quiet life on the 'old men's jobs'. They did not know the road into Central, but they were told to proceed to West Street and they would get a conductor from there. So they set off from Corkerhill tender-first, and with a big of juggling got to West Street. No conductor there. 'Go on. He's at Larkfield,' said the signalman, 'It's not far.' So they got down to Larkfield, and of course landed in Central nose first! They had to come back out to Eglintgon Street to turn. They got back in to find a train of eleven corridors and a Pullman diner, Helen Macgregor, 366 tons tare and filling rapidly.

They got away eight minutes late and sat for 15 minutes at Paisley waiting on the Largs train clearing Glengarnock. By the time the train left Paisley it was estimated that there were 950 passengers aboard. They called at Irvine, Troon and Prestwick, with a draw-up at each to let all the train get to the platforms. At Ayr, both engines took water. By this time the train was packed. There was an extra stop to pick up a party from Kilkerran. At Girvan both locomotives took water again. Webster was guard and he came forward at Girvan grumbling about the delay. Dick Gaw, flourishing his oil can, chased him up the platform, threatening to knock the bluidy heid off him.

Now came the problem. The scheduled top load for each of those engines, Girvan to Pinmore, was 140 tons, and they had 366! No assistance was available. How they got up, I shall never know. I think the regulators must have been twice round. Stop at Pinmore — another party to lift — missed the tablet at New Luce and had to stop and run back for it, arriving 80 minutes late Stranraer. They then took the whole train down to Portpatrick, rounded it (on a loop which held, I think, eight coaches) and hauled the whole lot back up to Stranraer, tender-first. At Stranraer there was no one on duty except a signalman. They had to turn, water and coal both engines; two big fires to clean. Then they had to turn to and fill finer tanks and lavatory tanks, and by buckets, for the hoses were either locked up or could not be found. Then back down to Portpatrick, with a 40-minute late start on the return journey. They had a special stop at Dunragit, parties at Pinmore and Kilkerran, and had double stops at all stations except Ayr, finally arriving 148 minutes late in Glasgow Central. The engine crews booked off at Corkerhill after eighteen hours on duty!

'Splendid!' said Head Office, examining the passenger returns on Monday morning, and it promptly arranged for another similar excursion [next] Sunday."

p. 31-33, Legends of the Glasgow & South Western (David L. Smith)

#elder abuse for fun and profit #real true railway stuff #british engines #scottish engines #glasgow and south western engines #david l. smith #when this man can follow the thread of his own damn stories for longer than a paragraph the results are invariably great

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clairehadenough · 2 months

Note

Lots of sun and sea and lovey-dovey times 👀 So your girl is back relaxed and refreshed and with a beautiful tan😎/

What a waste of a week doing nothing productive but you claim it’s the PR blogs who have no jobs lol

So are we supposed to cancel vacation because it’s a waste of time and not productive?😂

Also, let’s compare your week vs mine shall we?

YOUR WEEK:

Worrying since Monday morning about the CC happening at the end of the week (is he gonna wear his ring? 😦 Is he gonna mention her?😰)

Sending yourselves anon lying about being Con goers because you were proven wrong again. Unfortunately for you, ACTUAL Con goers posted photos and videos exposing your lies. Remember the “empty auditorium”?😂

Creating shitty articles about Chris and seriously thinking you’re fooling anyone with your Elijah bullshit. Honey, we know it’s you, it’s very embarrassing at this point, please stop😂

Belittling fellow PR blogs and making fun of their apologies even though you all do the same thing on a daily basis

MY WEEK:

Spending it with my man who’s well educated, kind, funny and hot 🔥 (oh, and real lmao)

Sipping on cocktails, eating yummy food, swimming, tanning, sleeping as much as I want, and girl, how do I put it in lady like manner…well let’s say ’getting lucky’ six ways to Sunday…😎

Feeling blessed to be healthy and financially able (even though my job isn’t a “6 figure” one like some 🤡 ) to travel and enjoy what life has to offer.

Enjoying my fave’s appearance at the CC, feeling happy for those who met him and proud of him for not giving haters like yourself any crumbs of his personal life so you don’t get the satisfaction of ruining it

So if I had to choose, I’ll choose my week over yours over and over again you jealous bitter peach 😂

#Turns our they’re jealous of everyone’s life not just Alba’s😂

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bangtanloverboys · 10 months

Text

life support // knj

summary - namjoon likes to think he’s the embodiment of the perfect example of a theurgists: positive and enthusiastic. however when his professor asks him to help tutor one of her secondary students, only then is that pushed to the limit

pairing - tutor!namjoon x neurodivergent!reader

genre - fluff; wizard 101 au

word count - 4.0k

warnings - dip’s made up lore, namjoon says one mean thing, thoughts of fraternization

guide - theurgy = life magic, divination = storm magic; marlybonian = british dog people; pigswick = another wizarding academy;

author’s note - last names for reasons. and this was a bit personal for me as i do have adhd and i struggled a lot with theoretical teachings. this is based off my own personal experience with school and having adhd, not everyone’s is the same

the seven schools of ravenwood

Best in class. That is how Namjoon has always been described ever since he was a novice theurgist. It came easy to him, with a glance at a textbook he could perform the spell in an instant. Life magic was simply in his blood. So when Professor Wu asked him to tutor some of her less than stellar students, he wasn’t surprised. It took a while for each of the other students to catch on, but one by one, he helped them understand the material and soon enough, they raised their grades. Namjoon’s track record was stunning, there wasn’t any student he couldn’t help.

That was until he met you.

Normally Professor Wu only offered tutoring for her novice primary school students; young theurgists that either did not grow up where magic was practiced or simply fell behind a few lessons and needed a bit of help to get back on their feet. Never before had he had to tutor a secondary school theurgist. But he was willing to step up to the challenge.

Pushing open the heavy oak doors of the Life School, he was greeted with the familiar sight of Professor Wu standing at the top of the platform. Standing right at the bottom of the stairs before her, was you, dressed in purple and gold. A diviner, Namjoon thought to himself. Life magic sat in between Storm and Fire, so one normally would expect a student of those primary schools would easily understand and excel at theurgy. He wondered what could be the problem.

“Ah, Namjoon!” She smiled as he approached you both. “Y/N, this will be your tutor; Namjoon Jadeshield. Namjoon, this is Y/N Raindreamer,” she introduced.

“Pleasure,” he greeted, holding out his hand for you to shake. You don’t shake his hand, only giving him a tight lipped smile. “Okay. . .” he dropped his hand. “What exactly are you struggling with so that I can help?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Professor Wu cut you off. “Everything, really. They’re supposed to start their initiate program, but unfortunately they must repeat their apprenticeship.”

Namjoon tried to hold back his shock. Failing the apprenticeship class? You’d have to repeat the whole two year process, probably never catch back up to your primary school level. “Okay. So how often shall we hold tutoring sessions?” He glanced between you and Professor Wu.

“Ideally every day after class,” the professor answered.

Your head snapped in the direction of her. “No!” Turning to Namjoon, you began to plead with him. “Monday, Tuesday, Thursday. I need Wednesday and Friday free. I have-“

“You know very well that any or all after school activities are suspended until your grades rise, Raindreamer,” Professor Wu tisked.

But you didn’t acknowledge her, only keeping your eyes trained on Namjoon. “I’m sorry, but Professor Wu is right. Until you have sufficient grades to prove it, no after school activities.”

As the words left his mouth, Namjoon watched in slow motion as your face fell. Like the world had crashed around you. Quickly, your face steeled and a frown was etched onto your features. “Fine.”

“Alright,” Namjoon nodded, wanting this meeting to be over and done with. “We’ll start tomorrow. Meet me outside the Commons Library? Sound good with you?”

“Yeah, fine. Whatever,” you huffed as you shouldered your book bag and left the school building, leaving Namjoon and Professor Wu alone.

“I swear, with a name like Raindreamer, it’s no wonder they have grades like this,” she sighed. “But thank you again, Namjoon. I know you’ll be a great help.”

“I’ll do my best.”

The following day, Namjoon waited for you just outside the Commons Library. He was there a full 10 minutes before you finally arrived. He opened his mouth to berate you for being late but words failed to come out at the sight of you; fresh scrapes and bandages covering any exposed skin.

“What?” You raised a brow at him.

“Are you- what happened?”

You looked down at the bandages before shrugging. “Fell.”

Whilst that didn’t feel like the full reason, Namjoon didn’t push any further, simply wanting to get the tutoring session along. You trailed behind him as he climbed up the final steps to the library, pushing open the doors. Namjoon waved hello to Harold, the old Marleybonian that served as the librarian, as he scribbled away in his ledger.

“This way,” Namjoon said to you as he walked down the theurgy wing. Other life students, dressed in robes of greens and browns, were seated at the tables that were strategically placed alongside the tall bookshelves. He made his way over to his usual table, it sat right between the initiate and journeyman textbooks. Granted those might be a bit out of your range, but perhaps it could serve as a bit of motivation to help you move forward.

Placing his book bag down, he looked at you, straggling along still. A bit further than he would’ve liked, but you were soon catching up. Your eyes were trained on the books as they flew across the shelves, rearranging and reorganizing themselves. There was a small smile etched into your face as you watched the books and scrolls float about, reminding Namjoon of a child on Christmas. Clearing his throat to gain your attention, he watched as that smile faded away, back into a look of displeasure. You picked up the pace, taking the seat beside him.

“Professor Wu didn’t give me any specifics as to what you need help with. So are there any particular parts that you need help with?” Namjoon asked as you pulled out your scrolls and text books.

“Everything, I guess. It just. . . doesn’t make sense. I can’t figure out how to get from Point A to Point B,” you explained.

“So conceptualizing it?”

You blinked at him. “I- uh, I guess that is one way to put it.”

“Okay, that gives us a starting point then.” He smiled at you. “So let’s go to basics. See if that can help.”

“Alright,” you muttered, learning forward as he began writing.

“So theurgy is a bit different than the other schools, when using magic we don’t summon or coerce the creatures into appearing. We breathe life into them through the Song of Creation. Are you familiar with that?” When he turned to look at you, you were staring blankly at the paper. He waited a few moments for you to respond, but you didn’t. Namjoon snapped his fingers twice, you jerked back to attention.

“Sorry, I- uh. . . what did you say?”

It was then when Namjoon realized how you were able to fail your apprenticeship so miserably and how you earned your last name.

You could not focus at all.

Every time Namjoon was going over spell casting and or creation, he would turn to you to check to see if you were following, only for you to have a blank look on your face or your eyes to be trained on the floating books again. Every time he would have to snap his fingers to regain your attention. On some occasions, he saw you scribbling away into a notebook. At first he thought you were actually taking notes, but anytime he tried to take a look at it, you shut the book in his face.

By the end of the second hour, when your session was coming to a close, you had finally managed to understand one spell. It was just a shield spell, so it wasn’t too complicated, but not enough for Namjoon to be satisfied with your progress.

As the two of you left the library, you were about to make a break for the right, no doubt returning to your dorm room in Ravenwood, but he quickly grabbed onto your wrist.

“What?”

“I want you to read over the History of Life Magic, chapters one through four. Just the basics, that should help at least a tiny bit.”

“You’re giving me homework?”

He blinked at you, caught off guard by the question. He’s always asked the students he tutored to reread certain materials, and they did so without question. “It’s not really homework, just helps to go over the material again,” he sputtered out in response. “I want to see you succeed and catch up in your secondary school. And reading helps.”

“Yeah, sure,” you huffed with a roll of your eyes, then walked down the pathway through the Commons.

Over the next two weeks, the two of you had fallen into a routine; every few days you’d be late by no more than 10 minutes to each session (how he had no idea, considering the initiate divination class would get out around your scheduled time) with fresh bandages, he’d try his damndest to help you understand the material, and then you’d part ways, heading off towards the right. And it was agonizing for Namjoon. You read at a snail's pace, mixing up the pixie and fairy spells, scrambling words and wand motions together. It wasn’t by lack of effort either, Namjoon could see you were trying, genuinely, but no matter how much reading he assigned you, nothing seemed to stick. You got one spell for every ten he went over with you. He simply could not believe how you managed to even get enrolled into Ravenwood in the first place.

When he expressed his frustrations towards Professor Wu when it was time for a follow up, she finally told him that you were a new student, only coming in within the past 6 months, after being kicked out of Pigswick for poor performance. He was shocked at the information, but it made sense. You were a troubled student and needed a firm hand. So he went to work, putting together another lesson plan that was more strict to try and see if that would help you at all.

It didn’t.

Barely a full session in, he watched as you failed to recite the proper incantations to summon a leprechaun, something you nearly had the day previous.

“What isn’t clicking for you?” He found himself asking you at the end of the session.

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean, why can’t you do this? This is basic theurgy, and you’re a storm student! This should come easy to you, right? So why are you struggling so much?” He felt like he was at the end of his rope. If he couldn’t teach you, then what hopes could he ever have about being a professor?

“I mean, it just. . . doesn’t. It’s hard to explain. . .”

“Well if you don’t figure it out, you’re gonna get kicked out from another school,” Namjoon muttered under his breath.

“What?”

He froze. He cringed to himself as he turned around to look at you, regretting even thinking the words. Once he laid eyes on you, he saw that same broken look he saw when Professor Wu said you couldn’t continue with your afterschool activities, only worse. Your shoulders sagged, and Namjoon swore he could’ve heard your heart break, shattered by him. Then your face hardened as you tightened your grip on your bookbag.

“Then I guess there’s no reason for us to really continue these sessions, considering I’m just gonna get kicked out anyways.” Then you turned on your heel and stormed off.

“Y/N, wait- I’m sorry!”

He wanted to follow after you, but he couldn’t find it in him to. He watched as you disappeared into the crowded Commons area, wishing he never even opened his mouth.

The following day after class, Namjoon made his way over towards the Storm School. You deserved an apology, Namjoon knew that. What he said was mean, and something he never should’ve said as your tutor. It was just his luck that his mastery class ended at the same time the Storm initiate class ended, giving him the perfect opportunity to find you and apologize. He eyed through the students as they made their way past him, on their own way towards their next class or any after school club. But he could not find out. He knew he had the right year, you were supposed to go into the initiate class this year, you were the proper age for it. Where were you?

Perhaps you stayed inside to talk to the professor, he thought to himself as he approached the heavy oak doors. Thunder boomed overhead from the gathering storm cloud that resided inside the classroom. It had been years since he’d ever stepped foot in the school of storm, the first and only time being from when he was trying to find a secondary school, all those years before he finally landed on balance.

Namjoon glanced around the room, trying to catch a glimpse of you but you weren’t in the room. Only Professor Balestrom resided in the classroom, standing on top of his desk as he gathered papers.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the school, clearing his throat to gain the frog professor’s attention. He turned on his flipper as the sound of Namjoon and bounced up to his full height of three feet.

“Ah! How can I be of service to you?”

“Hi, I’m tutoring one of your students. Y/N Raindreamer? They would be in your initiate class.”

A frown etched itself onto Professor Balestrom’s face. “Raindreamer is my student yes, but they’re not in my initiate class.”

“What?”

“Raindreamer advanced into the adept class about 3 months ago! They’re a brilliant student, one of the best diviners I’ve seen in a while,” he explained.

The information shook Namjoon to his core. You were an advanced student? But how could that be, considering your grades in theurgy? It didn’t make any sense. “I-I didn’t know that.”

“First time in my class, they struggled though. Came in on a reading day, which is everyone’s least favorite part of the curriculum. But as soon as we got to spell casting, they nearly blew the roof off this place!” The professor continued, leaping up in the air for dramatic effect. “They weren’t even here a week before I took them to the headmaster and demanded they advance to the journeyman course, only that was also too easy! They’re getting a real challenge in adept, I’ll tell you that.”

Namjoon couldn’t believe his ears. Here he was, thinking you were a walking failure, doomed to be kicked out of a second school. Only to learn that you were nearly two years advanced in your studies! “Oh. . . well, do you know where they might be? I do need to talk to them.”

Professor Balestrom looked at the clock on the wall. “Should be in the arena by now.”

“The arena?”

“Yes. The arena! They’re a duelist, did you not know that?”

Only then did it dawn on him that he never did ask what you wanted to do so badly that you wanted to schedule your tutoring sessions around it. Then he remembered what days you were late on, the fresh bandages you always had on. . . You were still dueling. Under the school’s nose too.

“Thank you, Professor Balestrom. I appreciate it.”

“Of course, of course!” The frog man called out to Namjoon as he all but ran out the door. As fast as he could, he made his way through the tunnels to the Commons and then to Unicorn Way. He pushed open the doors of the arena, the snapping of puppets and growls of different summoned monsters filled his ears as he approached Diego, the dueling master.

“A newcomer? Are you interested in learning the art of the duel?” The unicorn asked, raising a brow at him.

Namjoon shook his head no. “Sorry, I’m actually looking for someone. Y/N Raindreamer?”

“Ah, yes! They’ve been short on their dueling practice lately, but they’re in the next dueling chamber over. Come, I shall show you.” Diego led Namjoon down a hall towards an empty arena, where sure enough you were, dueling against a puppet.

He was blown away with the sight before him. You waved your wand with practiced ease and the creatures you summoned did your bidding with little to no struggle at all. It wasn’t at all how you were when he was tutoring you. How could you manage to do so good in one class that you advance two classes, but struggle to advance in your secondary?

“Pretty good, eh? Came in from Pigswick, good school and all but they don’t actually teach magic there. It’s all theoretical. But as soon as Raindreamer was enrolled here, and with a little help from your’s truly, they advanced in no time!” Diego explained as he and Namjoon watched you battle the puppet. “They come in here as often as they can, practicing all the spells they learn in class. See the scrolls?” He pointed off to the side of the dueling sigil where sure enough, were piles of spell books and scrolls, mainly of storm magic, judging from the purple lining. But Namjoon could see some greens in there.

You weren’t just practicing.

You were studying.

Raising your wand again, this time the life symbol appeared. Up until the last wave of your wand, it was perfect. You had twisted your wrist in the wrong direction, causing the spell to fizzle completely. You let out a curse as you stepped away from the sigil, the puppet standing still. You pulled open the life scroll, reading over it again, no doubt trying to find your mistake.

“You’re supposed to twist your wrist towards the right, not the left!” Namjoon called out to you. Your head snapped up in his direction, mouth open to probably yell at him. But you didn’t say anything, your eyes focusing on Diego behind him.

“He’s right, you were perfect up until that last move,” Diego confirmed as he trotted down the stairs towards you, Namjoon following after. “He was looking for you, I hope you do not mind I brought him here.”

“It’s alright, thank you, Diego.” You gave the unicorn a slight smile, who nodded before stepping away, giving the two of you some privacy. Once your attention was fully towards Namjoon, your lips pressed into a thin line. “What is it, Namjoon?”

“I wanted to apologize, what I said was out of line. As your tutor, it should’ve been my priority to build you up, not to tear you down.”

You regarded him cautiously. “Doesn’t change the fact that what you said really hurt. I did try, but studying like that just. . . it doesn’t work for me. Sitting there and telling me how to cast spells, I have to see and do it to fully understand. Do you get that?”

“Yes, I can see that now.” Namjoon stepped toward the pile of scrolls and books that you had at the side of the arena. Picking up the one that was open, he flipped through it. There were a bunch of notes and scribbles in the margins, he recognized the chicken scratch as yours but what you wrote were what he would go over and teach you in your tutoring sessions. “This is why you wanted those days off, so you could practice your spellwork and could try to actually grasp what you were learning?”

Slowly, you nodded. “I will admit, I did continue dueling, but without the proper amount of dedication to practice and study, it just. . . I couldn’t do it.”

“Then we’ll hold our tutoring sessions here.”

You looked at him in shock. “What?”

“If this is what helps you learn, then this is what we’ll do to help you,” Namjoon started, “I’ll tell Professor Wu about the change and reserve an arena with Diego. We can meet here instead of the library, does that sound good to you?”

“I- yeah! That’s- that’s perfect, thank you!” You said, beaming widely at him. It was the first time you actually smiled at him, and he was going to deny the little flutter he felt in his chest.

“Okay, so I’ll see you here tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow!”

Just as he said, Namjoon talked with Moolinda about having you study via dueling.

“I don’t know, Jadeshield. . . they’re failing, and the rules are no extracurriculars unless a student is of a passing grade.”

“I know, but this is how they learn! I didn’t understand it at first, and that’s my fault. But they’re actually really smart! Did you know they’re two classes advanced in divination?” Namjoon countered.

Professor Wu was taken back by that knowledge, judging by the way her eyes narrowed down and focused on him.

“Please, just give them a chance.”

She was quiet, before placing her hooves together and nodding. “Very well. You may hold your tutoring lessons in the arena.”

Namjoon was so ecstatic, he would have jumped for joy. But there was one more thing that he had to ask. . .

Due to his meeting with the professor, Namjoon was running late to meet you at the Arena. He saw you were sitting on the grass outside the building, looking down at that book you would scribble in during your tutoring sessions, flipping through the pages.

“Hey!” He caught your attention as he approached you. “I have great news!”

Looking up from your book, you furrowed your brows together. “What?”

“I talked to Professor Wu and she gave the green light for us to do dueling tutoring sessions and she agreed!”

You jumped to your feet. “Really?!”

“Yes, and she agreed to something even better.”

“Spit it out then! Don’t leave me here in all this suspense!”

“If you test well enough on the next exam that’s in a few weeks, you can join the initiate program!” It took a lot of convincing on his part, and staking his whole career as a tutor on the line, but he was wrong to ever doubt you in the first place. He knew you could do it.

“You-oh my stars! Thank you!” Dropping your book, you threw yourself onto Namjoon, wrapping your arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly.

He stilled at the sudden contact, feeling heat rush to his cheeks. “You’re- you’re welcome,” he said, patting your back gently. He’d never been thanked in such a way before, usually a quick handshake or a smile. Never a hug.

As quick as you hugged him, you released your hold on him, smiling brightly at him. “Come on! Exam may be a few weeks away, but I wanna be sure I have everything right so I can ace this test!” You said, before racing inside the arena.

Namjoon stood back for a second, still feeling the heat on his cheeks. He took a step forward to join you, only to accidentally step on your book that you’d dropped. Kneeling down, he picked it up. Curiosity gaining the best of him, he took a peek inside. It was doodles and drawings of different creatures and spells, with little notes dotted along the sides. Still flipping through the book, he began walking towards the arena, but he stopped as he turned to a page that took him by surprise. It was a drawing of him, incompleted, but was very obviously Namjoon. He felt the heat on his face return, crawling up his ears too. Reading along the sides of the page, were your own personal anecdotes about him. Calling him all sorts of names, but also things he had said; Stuff from his lessons. You had remembered, you were trying. He just couldn’t see it.

“Ahem.”

Namjoon’s eyes broke away from the sketchbook, meeting Diego’s gaze. The unicorn said nothing, only winking at him as he tossed his head in the direction of the arena doors.

Breaking eye contact, Namjoon pushed open the doors, hoping you wouldn’t see the embarrassment on his cheeks. He spotted you almost immediately, talking with some other students he could only presume were your friends. Taking notice of him, you smiled at him again, and he swore he could see a twinkle in your eye-

No. No. No.

You had an exam to study for and he was your tutor. He couldn’t fraternize with you like that. However, he wouldn’t be for long if you ace that exam. . .

“Raindreamer, let’s go!”

#btsghostie #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader #bts x reader #namjoon x gender neutral reader #kim namjoon x gender neutral reader #bts x gender neutral reader #bts wizard au #wizard101 au #neurodivergent reader #namjoon x adhd reader #wizard namjoon

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my-deer-history · 2 months

Text

Francis Kinloch in the Müller-Bonstetten letters: Part 2

My translations here, German and French originals below the cut.

[Undated, 1776]

Did you know that Lord Dunmore has imitated the billets d'état of the Americans, and thereby enticed them to provide the loyalists with what they needed from their own supplies? This ruse has left them in terrible confusion. Kinloch envies Colonel Cunningham, who is marching against Charlestown with 2,000 regulars under His Majesty’s standard?

[At the end of Müller’s letter is this addition from Kinloch:]

It is not enough my dear sir, to tell You, que je Vous embrasse de tout mon coeur [that I embrace you with all my heart]; that is but a futile French expression, invented in order to express a nothingness of sentiment in a decent manner; no rather let me say that I wish for nothing more than opportunity of manifesting to You how much, how sincerely I esteem You.

Pour les manières et les Graces [For politeness and the Graces.]. You will not be astonished at our friend Muller's having made the progress he boasts of, when I inform You, that we have had the courage to read Lord Chesterfield's letters, though swelled to the size of two volumes in quarto, and filled with continual repetitions and inculcations of principles every way different from those that a Man of honour flatters himself has lodged in his bosom.

We have lived a life this Winter as happy as the warmest imagination could have traced out. We have read a great deal, talk with rapture very frequently of those happy days spent under this humble roof in Your company.

Good night. I ask Your pardon but I can not refrain from telling from time to time how much I esteem you.

Kinloch.

[undated, 1776]

I must ask you for advice. You know my destination for the summer. Next winter, either Italy or, without a doubt, Genthod. But considering the future, I see many challenges in seeking a position as a tutor. Parents in England do not know me; would they trust their son to me? And when they ask to see me, would they then trust me, with my young face, without any mentorly traits? What do you think, should I get Kinloch to write to his tutor? Trembley to his friends? or should I leave it to time and chance?

13 April 1776

I feel what the union of two hearts like ours wants to say. I feel no gratitude for everything I have received from you, for Geneva, Genthod, Kinloch, because my gratitude is intertwined in my friendship.

April 1776

I have not often thought and felt so much in such a short time, as in the 4 divine days with my friend. I now know how I must live to properly develop my mind: alone, or with you. The noble American earns all my love, nor am I in debt to the friendship that he has for me, but you stand out above everyone in my heart, because I believe myself to be alone when I am with you.

“Monday”, 1776

Write to me urgently - on which day shall the society meet at Schinznach? Perhaps Lord Clive, Mr Fraser, Kinloch and I will also go. You will understand how urgently I need to know this.

“Early May” 1776

I can barely read anything. I spend 3 hours organising and thinking; the rest of the time I spend collecting. I read Montesquieu and Horaz with Kinloch. So I have about one hour left every day; I then read Heloise, or The Essay On Man, or Tristram Shandy.*

*”Heloise” is probably La nouvelle Heloise, an epistolary novel by Jean-Jacques Rousseau. An Essay on Man is a poem by Alexander Pope. Tristram Shandy is a satirical novel by Lawrence Sterne.

6 July 1776

I read your letters about Italy with Kinloch. They are excellent; if I were not covetous, I would tell you that they deserve to be read by the public.

I do not know if I am wrong; but to my eyes, Winkelmann* is so incomparable, so elevated, so profound, so entirely a man of genius, so genuinely Greek in his feeling, of such energy, in sum so perfectly, in my view, what a writer should be, that I dread to read Sulzer** after him.

*Johann Joachim Winckelmann was an archaeologist and art historian who revolutionised the understanding of classical art; he was also known to be homosexual, even in his own time.

**Johann Georg Sulzer’s Die Theorie der schönen Künste.

16 July 1776

Kinloch is leaving in September, probably towards the end, then I can come to Baleares for a week, or what would be better, if it’s at all possible, to take off for a week and come to the Lac de Joux; we could spend seven heavenly days there. In August, perhaps! I don't know if Kinloch wants to visit his relatives, but if so, I would visit the closest kinsman of my soul.

2 Aug [1776]

I saw, heard and felt Lekain* in the role of Tancrède, and on Tuesday, I will see him play Zamore. Everything that stirs my soul reminds me of B.** I could have cried at the theatre, because cruel fate does not allow me to feel, to sigh, to cry at my friend’s side. Why did I not lie sprawled next to you on the grass with the Aeneid? Our souls, dearest friend, are sweet and gentle; our spirit sympathises wonderfully; our taste is susceptible to the beauties of nature and genius. Every day I become more worthy of you; and so you will love me more than before. Pour the full stream of feelings into your letters. Do not hide anything from me, my dear, and allow me the divine pleasure of rejoicing with B. and feeling sorrow with him. Let me write my reflections, then the whole world will see whether I am worthy of you, and then we will see each other for longer and more often. Write to me, I beg you, as often as possible. Do away with the frustrating error that you never answer my letters. Comfort me, I grieve that Kinloch is leaving in two months. He is the noblest, the most amiable, the most virtuous youth: his faults themselves are amiable and the faults of a noble man.

*Lekain was a French actor, one of Voltaire’s favourites.

**Bonstetten

8 Aug 1776

Lekain in Tancrède entranced me; as Zamore* he disappointed me; the latter feels and speaks with liveliness, has a noble open countenance, is the most amiable and greatest character in all of Voltaire’s work; [...] Aufresne** would have done it better; but I do not want to see Zamore played by anyone other than you or Kinloch.

*Zamore is an Incan prince in Voltaire’s play Alzire, ou Les Américains.

**Aufresne was a Genevan actor.

[Undated, 1776]

Wissen Sie wohl, daß Mylord Dunmore die Billets d'état der Amerikaner nachgeahmt, und hierdurch sie verführt hat, aus ihrem eigenen den Königischen das Nothwendige zu verschaffen? Diese List hat sie in eine entsetzliche Verwirrung gesetzt. Kinloch beneidet den Obrist Cunningham, welcher mit 2000 Königischen unter dem Standart Sr. Majestät gegen Charlestown angezogen ist?

[undated, 1776]

Rathen Sie mir. Gür den Sommer wissen Sie meine Bestimmung; für den Winter, entweder Italien oder ohne Zweifel auch Genthod. Betreffend ferneres; so sehe ich viele Inconvenienzen, um eine Gouverneurstelle zu schreiben. Die Eltern in England kennen mich nicht, werden sie mir ihren Sohn anvertrauen? Und wenn sie mich sehen wollten, würden sie mir ihn alsdann vertrauen, mir mit meiner jungen Miene, mir ohne alle Mentorszüge? Was meinen Sie, soll ich schreiben lassen — den Kinloch an seinen Vormund? Trembley an seine Freunde? oder die Zeit und Zufälle abwarten?

J'ai des conseils à vous demander. Vous savez quelle est ma destination pour cet été. L'hiver prochain, je projette un voyage en Italie, ou un séjour à Genthod; mais il faut penser à l'avenir, et je vois beaucoup d'inconvénients à chercher une place de gouverneur. Personne ne me connaît en Angleterre: quels parents voudraient me confier leur fils? Et quand on demanderait à me voir, obtiendrais-je plus de confiance en montrant une mine si jeune et si peu convenable à un Mentor? Qu'en pensez-vous? Dois-je faire écrire Kinloch à son tuteur, Trembley à ses amis, ou dois-je m'en remettre au temps et aux circonstances?

13 April 1776

Ich fühle, was die Vereinigung zweier Herzen, wie unsre, sagen will. Ich fühle keine Dankbarkeit für alles, was ich von Ihnen habe, für Genf, Genthod, Kinloch, denn meine Dankbarkeit wird von meiner Freundschaft verschlungen.

Mon cher et noble ami! ce qui distingue notre amitié, c'est qu'elle domine sur tous nos autres sentiments. Je ne sens aucune reconnaissance pour tout ce que je vous dois, pour Genève, pour Genthod, pour Kinloch; ma reconnaissance se perd dans ma tendresse pour vous.

April 1776

Ich habe selten in so kurzer Zeit so viel gedacht und gefühlt, als in den göttlichen 4 Tagen mit meinem Freund. Ich weiß nun, wie ich leben müßte, um meinen Geist recht zu entwickeln: allein, oder mit Euch. Der edle Amerikaner verdient alle meine Liebe, auch bleibe ich ihm nichts an der Freundschaft schuldig, die er für mich hat, aber Ihr zeichnet Euch in meinem Herzen vor allen aus, indem ich allein zu seyn glaube, wenn ich mit Euch bin.

“Monday”, 1776

Schreiben Sie mir nächstens, an welchem Tag die Gesellschaft zu Schinznach sich versammle? Vielleicht gehen Lord Clive, Mr. Fraser, Kinloch und ich auch dahin. Sie begreifen, wie nothwendig ich dieses bald wissen muß.

“Early May” 1776

Lesen kann ich fast nichts. 3 Stunden ordne und denke ich; die übrige Zeit sammle ich. Mit Kinloch lese ich Montesquieu und Horaz. So bleibt mir täglich ungefähr eine Stunde; ich lese alsdann Heloise, oder the Essay on man, oder Tristram Shandy.

6 July 1776

Ich habe mit Kinloch Eure Briefe über Italien gelesen. Sie find vortrefflich; wenn ich nicht geizig darauf wäre, so wollte ich Ihnen sagen, sie verdienen vom Publicum gelesen zu werden.

Ich weiß nicht, ob ich Recht habe, aber Winkelmann ist so unvergleichlich, so hoch, so tief, so ganz Mann von Genie, von so griechischem Gefühl, von solcher Energie, so recht wie ein Verfasser nach meinem Sinn seyn soll, daß ich fürchte, Sulzern nach ihm zu lesen.

J'ai lu avec Kinloch, vos lettres sur l'Italie. Elles sont excellentes, et si je n'en étais avare, je vous dirais qu'elles méritent d'être connues du public.

Je ne sais si je me trompe; mais Winkelmann est à mes yeux si incomparable, si élevé, si profond, si entièrement homme de génie, si vraiment grec et antique dans sa manière de sentir, enfin si parfaitemént, à mon sens, l'écrivain tel qu'il doit être, que je crains de lire Sulzer après lui.

16 July 1776

Kinloch reiset ab im September, vermuthlich gegen das Ende, alsdann kann ich auf eine Woche nach Baleires kommen, oder was besser wäre, wenn es nur möglich ist, sondern Sie sich auf eine Woche ab, und kommen Sie an den Lac de Joux; da könnten wir sieben Göttertage zubringen. Im August, vielleicht! Ich weiß nicht, ob Kinloch seine Verwandten besuchen will, dann besuchte ich den nähesten Verwandten meiner Seele.

2 Aug [1776]

Ich habe gesehen, gehört und gefühlt den Le Kain Tancred vorstellen und am Dienstag stellt er Zamoren vor. Alles, was meine Seele rührt, ruft mich zu B. zurück. In der Comödie hätte ich weinen mögen, daß das harte Schicksal mir nicht erlaubt, neben meinem Freund zu fühlen, zu seufzen, zu weinen. Warum lag ich nicht neben Ihnen hingegossen aufs Gras mit der Aencide? Unsere Seelen, liebster Freund, sind lieblich und sanft; unser Geist sympathisirt wunderbar; unser Geschmack ist für die Schönheiten der Natur und des Genies empfindlich. Täglich werde ich Ihrer würdiger; so lieben Sie mich dann auch mehr, als vormals. So ergießen Sie denn im vollern Strom Empfindungen in Ihre Briefe. Verschweigen Sie mir nichts, mein Lieber, und gestatten Sie mir die Götterlust, mich mit B. zu freuen und mit ihm zu betrüben. Lassen Sie mich meine Betrachtungen schreiben, dann wird alle Welt sehen, ob ich Ihrer würdig bin, und dann werden wir uns länger und öfter sehen. Schreiben Sie mir, ich bitte Sie, so oft als möglich. Legen Sie einen verdrüßlichen Fehler ab; den, daß Sie meine Briefe nie beantworten. Trösten Sie mich, ich traure sehr, daß Kinloch in zwei Monaten abreiset. Er ist der edelste, der freundschaftlichste, der tugendhafteste Jüngling: seine Fehler selbst sind liebenswürdig und die Fehler eines edlen Menschen.

8 Aug 1776

Le Kain im Tankred hat mich entzückt; als Zamore hat er mir mißfallen; der letzere fühlt, spricht mit Lebhaftigkeit, hat eine edle offne Miene, ist der liebenswürdigste und größte Charakter im ganzen Voltaire; [...] Aufresne hätte das vielleicht besser gemacht; ich aber möchte Zamoren von niemand spielen sehen, als von Ihnen oder von Kinloch.

#francis kinloch #johannes von müller #karl viktor von bonstetten #18th century history #queer history #french translation #voltaire

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