#ANYWAY THANK YOU TORT I LOVE YOU TORT

[luminecho]

susato 3 and 20 for the character asks? :3

3. A song that reminds me of them

YES. YES. YES. ENABLING ME. YES. FAVORITE QUESTION EVER. YES. THANK YOU ILY

I'm not physically capable of shutting up about music ever so instead of one song you're getting two <3

Okay so the first one I think I've talked about to you before Tort but to all my other friends and followers I'd like to introduce you to Tragedy Is Not The End by Joel Ansett. aka one of my more recently discovered favorite songs ever. it's everything to me.

It's HHHOUUUOOOUUOUUGGGHHHHHH if i could draw like I wanted i would make an entire BEAUTIFUL pmv to this with susato i'm SOOOO serious. it's. everything. the song is about grieving and accepting the pain that comes with it and vowing to grow from it and make something out of it. it's about fighting on, not in spite of the pain, but because of it.

They say it's gonna be okay But it doesn't take away, it doesn't take away the pain We don't have to be afraid 'Cause I don't think it's an accident that tears are shaped like seeds So I'll bury all my fears and trust they're turning into trees Oh, I'm fighting to believe This is not the end of the story

when I listen to this chorus my mind is filled with this vivid image of this silhouette of a tree slowly growing from the bottom corner of the screen and as the branches come into view these blossoms start growing from those branches. and it's just so.......... ououurrghh. this is one of my favorite songs but it's soo,,,, exclusively a susato song for me?? i've tried putting it on other playlists but it just feels Odd and out of place. It's like I can't separate the two in my mind. I love it.

The second song I'm slightly more normal about but it's The Ship in Port by Radical Face. This one, I... can't really explain? The title is what first drew me to it because you know I HEAVILY associate susato with boats and the ocean and I have before I even touched the game or knew anything about WHY i associated her with boats so it's jfdhdjfk. special!! and I'm a sucker for Radical Face and I really like the melody and feel of this song so i threw it on her playlist and thought nothing of it.

Some say our dreams are a distant road Down which our hearts would like to go But I have always stayed in place Under that old illusion that it's safe You said the ship in port is the safer one But it's not the reason it was made So forgive me if I wander off And forgive me more if I just stay

But something about the lyrics, too, is just.... it's about that old saying about how "a ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for." Something about it just...... I don't know. I can't explain why it's Susato. I can try and try but,,,,,, I don't know. Something about... staying in safety while having all these dreams that you don't chase and slowly learning to let go of the safety net and step out of your comfort zone and into the unknown so you can finally follow those dreams.....? I don't know dude. Maybe you know

20. A weird headcanon

sometimes if ryuunosuke asks something that she doesn't know the answer to and that she doesn't have the answer to in her book and it's something trivial and not very important, she'll just flip to a random page and then make some shit up

(Send a character and a number/several numbers and I'll answer)

#you can treat the last one as a confession #because i was scrolling through my private server looking to see if i had anything that fit the bill #and that thought just kinda sprang on me out of nowhere #so. kjHDFDHKJFD #ANYWAY THANK YOU TORT I LOVE YOU TORT #// #answered echoes #amamillalatortilla

[macadamianutmilk]

hi, i was wondering if u had any good recipes/sites or tips on adapting recipes for gluten-free baking? i love your cooking so much, it makes me want to bake more! thank you <3

Ah that is SO sweet!! I’m so glad my posts encourage you to bake because it’s something I love so much!! I’ve recently started baking with almond flour and tapioca starch a lot more for my gluten free friends and I love both options. I’d say try to choose a recipe that is already low-flour - for example, denser things like brownies or tortes, or financiers (which are made with almond flour anyway!!). i also love a dark chocolate tart with sea salt and a shortbread crust (which can easily be made with gf flour). my friends mom is celiac and she often makes a fruit crumble with an oat topping that’s really yummy. also macarons are made with almond flour!! sorry this has basically been a stream of consciousness hehe. I’ll list a couple recipes below I’ve either tried or heard good things about:

- brownies

- financiers

- macarons

- salted dark chocolate tart (you could use gf oreos for the crust too!!)

- fruit crisp

[nimblermortal]

@icryyoumercy

I’m sorry, I’m going to wake you up, let me just be a little bit quieter over here...

This might be the best package you’ve sent me yet and I haven’t even opened the bag yet. Chain wear indication in German? A pencil that grows when you’re done with it?

I feel like Hyacinth probably has encountered such a pencil before, but I have not.

And you sent me sprinkles! You’re proving a point from a conversation we had months ago! I am excited to open them and taste them. Hmmmm what sort of cake can I make in order to decorate... or should it be chocolate shortbread cookies? I can’t really decorate a sour cream marbled pound cake, or an angel food... usually I decorate Hyacinth’s carrot cakes... and the flourless chocolate tort would make a good base... I may have to do Cake January again after all.

TWENTY GRAMS OF PROTEIN IN ONE GRANOLA BAR? Holy cow, what sort of utopian future are you living in? What does that even taste like? I kind of want to open it up with my whole family and have us all have a nibble, but I also want to keep it in the car forever next to my emergency sunflower seeds...

I don’t know if “<big>Chocolat: 64% Cacao</big> für feine Desserts <small>auch zum naschen</small>” is funny for real but I think it is.

POWER MALT POWER MALT MY FAVORITE! I hoarded the last one so hard I ate the last bites in the weeks before Christmas. I will try to do better with this trust. OH MY GOSH I WILL HAVE TO BECAUSE THERE ARE TWO OF THEM!

Wow this is. An immense load of chocolate. This is really impressive.

I’m not sure if the Ruweilfabriek tag is an intended part of this package but it is received and acknowledged. (Do you know the manufacturer Hirschmann? I keep explaining to techs how the H in their logo is a pun.) There’s also a mysterious suction thing that unscrews into two parts. I have dropped one on my computer. There may or may not be a decoder ring in your letter but I refuse to read it until I’ve been properly astounded and baffled by the rest of the items.

CHOCOLATE FROM GONDOR. (Giandor) MIT MANDELCREMEFÜLLUNG? Excellent, I love almonds! Hyacinth doesn’t like primary almond flavors so I get that one to myself :)

Zuckerfondantfüllung, interesting, I wasn’t aware fondant could be... more than technically edible. An experiment!

Mm, Haselnüssen. In den USA gibt’s fast keine Haselnüssen, stattdessen haben wir Erdnüsse, und deswegen ist es etwas besonderes, Haselnüssen zu finden, obwohl ich weiß dass sie in Europa genauso enttauschend wie Erdnüsse hier seien sind. Seien sind? Is that a real thing?

Tourist habe ich vorher gekriegt, das ist auch gut. Nicht für teilen mit dem Hund. Und Bärnerschoggi auch! Aber Cremant ist neu, meine ich. 55% ist aber fast nicht dunkel... hier, aber wir haben Herscheys. I’ve read entire books about why American chocolate is so terrible and it comes down to freakin’ wossisname Herschey deciding to ignore all existing knowledge about how to make chocolate and come up with his own process for - guess what! - an inferior type that tastes of candle wax. And yet Americans learned to eat it, despite knowing that European chocolate was better, which is why German and Swiss chocolates have such nice reputations, and somehow we’ve never replaced the godawful stuff.

[optional rant about chocolate being grown and native to very different parts of the world from where it’s famous for whoaaaaa it’s time to lie down again guess what guess what Patrick today I learned to clean sinks. not the sink part. the U-boat part. Which is not an U-Boot sondern. With pipes. Ye ken? Taken them apart to make the extra stinkyslime. For drainage purposes.]

Update: Hyacinth says thank you for the espresso chocolate, which I told him was his, and then I explained that you didn’t really send it at him because it’s coffee, and he said well tell him thank you anyway then maybe I will get more, and I said well I will certainly share the rest it’s about a kilogram of chocolate, and he said well tell him thank you anyway then maybe I will get more, so that’s Hyacinth for you, he says Thank you.

#replies #I should have sent you Jojos but the box was full

[merrrrrrrrry]

hiiiii again🫶🏻

pleaseeee i would love to hear any and all rambles and rants!!! it’s my favorite thing to have people ramble/rant to me 💗

i am living just imagining your grandma being super formal with her parrot every morning 🤣🥹 that sounds super cute!! is her parrot able to greet her back??

ahhh taste!!!! i always flip between mitam and four being my number one. like four is god tier and it’s their last album with zayn so that increases it’s appeal for me, but there’s just something about mitam 🥺

i, for one, thought your joke was funny!!! i love that kind of sense of humour!! but honestly i don’t blame you fitf is amazing and it really is a no skip album. it would be super interesting to know how many songs from fitf would’ve ended up on everyone’s spotify wrapped if it was released in october instead of november 😔

anyways, thanks for your kind words 💗🫂

-✨holiday pal✨

p.s. i’m obsessed with the frog gif 🫶🏻

Hellloooo💕💕

Unfortunately he flew away and we don't know if he survived or not. But he had learned to greet her back and he called her both 'mother' and 'grandma' in our language. He had the most beautiful multicolour tail.

And rants - so I was a science student and I gave the entrance for getting into college to study mbbs multiple times. This coincided with the covid outbreak and lockdown as well and it was two years of me at home. It was the lowest point for me. And most importantly I realised that I was not actually that invested in that career, because of multiple reasons it just felt like the only way for me.

But some of my teachers in school had wanted me to study humanities and had suggested law for me. My parents also encouraged me to give the law entrance exam this year. I went in with zero preparation, got in and here I am. My first sem just got over and I'm doing my first internship now. We haven't actually studied much law other than torts and I didn't prepare for the entrance, so I don't have all the extra info that my batchmates have so I don't know a lot. But I love running around and listening to hearings. If you're comfortable sharing, what do you do/study etc?

I feel like my answer's too long🙈 I'll tell you about the canva thing tomorrow. Have the most beautiful day 💕💕💕

#merrranswers #✨holiday pal✨

[the-iceni-bitch]

Search No More

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Words: Guessing cuz I’m on mobile again, 1.5k?

Summary: Andy has a new job and needs you to save him from forced camaraderie.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex), alcohol consumption by adults of appropriate age, Neal Logiudice (cuz fuck this guy), SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: Another one from the WIP folder that is specifically for @imanuglywombat’s “Is that even a sex position?” challenge, week three. I figured a nice soft position would be perfect for our favorite floofy lawyer boi. Please check out the other great fics this challenge has given us and enjoy!

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!!

It had been a slow night at the bar, so your staff practically insisted on sending you home early, Jesse shoving out the door as you protested feebly.

“Take a night off, boss.” He grumbled amicably as he ushered you towards your car, handing you your coat and bag as a light snow started to fall. “Maybe go snuggle with that boyfriend of yours that’s always hanging around. Where is he tonight anyway?”

“There was a new faculty mixer.” You said with an eye roll. “You’re sure you’ll be fine, Jess?”

“We’re always fine.” He said dismissively with a wave of his hand as you climbed into your vehicle.

You texted Andy as you started your car to see where he was and he practically begged you to come meet him at the party, whining about how sinfully boring law professors were. You got the address from him and headed out, arriving in the posh Newton neighborhood in a little under 30 minutes.

There were a few partygoers hanging around outside, and you cursed to yourself when you saw them wearing cocktail attire. Leave it to Andy to forget to mention a dress code. Thank god your dry cleaning was in the back.

You tried to find something relatively conservative and settled on a simple satin sheath that was probably a little shorter than was appropriate but it’s not like you had a lot of options. You started to awkwardly disrobe in your front seat, shimmying out of your jeans and pulling your sweater over your head. A surprising knock on the window made you yelp while you were bent over the console with the back of your dress unzipped to grab your emergency heels.

“Ma’am, we’ve gotten some reports of an extremely attractive woman getting naked in a 2003 Acura, any chance that’s you.” A gravelly voice said behind a blinding flashlight.

You growled and opened your driver’s side door into Andy, almost making him drop his phone in the street. He let out a chuckle at your scowl as you stepped out of the car and straightened up, starting to pull the zipper of your dress up your back.

“I would’ve changed at the bar if you let me know this was a cocktail party asshole.” You snarled at him, turning to let him help you draw the zipper up the last few inches.

“Or, you would’ve gone back to your apartment to try to find something else to wear, and I would’ve been stuck listening to professor McDrones-A-lot talk about torts for god knows how long.”

“Aww, are your new coworkers boring, babe?” You teased him as he wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you inside.

“God, they’re so fucking boring.” He murmured into your hair before turning to introduce you to some ancient man with elbow patches. “Professor Donaldson, this is Y/N.” He said, throwing you a wink. “She was just telling me how interested she is in tort reform.”

“Splendid! Are you a lawyer my dear?”

You shook your head and did your best to listen politely as you glared at Andy over the old man’s shoulder. He gave you a stupid grin before heading to the bar to grab the two of you some drinks.

“What the fuck are you doing here, sweetheart?”

You cursed under your breath and turned to glare at Neal Logiudice, the absolute last person you wanted to see.

“Hello Neal.” You grumbled.

“Get out of here, Wally.” He said, dismissing the professor he had very rudely interrupted. “Go find some other asshole to bother.”

The old man just huffed and gave you a sympathetic pat on the arm as he hobbled away.

“That was rude.” You said, your eyes roaming the room in search of Andy. You didn’t feel like dealing with Neal’s bullshit tonight. “Why are you here Neal? I thought this was a faculty only event.”

“Alumni are invited too. And you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.” He growled, stepping closer and invading your bubble. “Cuz you’re definitely not alumni or faculty. You work your way through all the lawyer dick at your bar and come looking for more?”

“Lovely.” You said dryly, frowning at the smell of whiskey that enveloped the man. “You’re drunk.”

You felt a warm hand on your shoulder and turned your head just enough to see Andy scowling behnd you. He slotted himself beside you and wrapped his arm around you in a protective embrace as he and Neal stared each other down.

“Logiudice.” He said menacingly, and you rolled your eyes as the levels of testosterone in the room shot up suddenly.

“Barber.” The giant said with a sneer. “I see you’ve moved on to the leftover dregs of the Newton law community. I hear that pussy’s had every defense attorney cock in town.”

Andy let out an absolutely feral growl and you just managed to hold him back as you glared at Neal.

“Jesus, Neal. Glad to see you’re not bitter.” You said with little humor as your arm strained against Andy’s chest.

“No bitterness here, sweetheart. Just waiting for you to work your way to me.” He leered at you, giving you a lascivious wink.

You let out a sigh as you started to shove Andy away from the idiot, grateful for all your experience manhandling drunks as he fought against you every step of the way.

“He’s not worth it, baby.” You murmured once you had achieved a good amount of distance, your hands smoothing his jacket over his chest in a soothing gesture as Neal let out a guffaw behind you.

“I dunno, I kinda feel like punching him in the face is definitely worth it, sweetheart.” Andy said as he took some deep breaths and turned his gaze back to you.

“Maybe not at your first event for your new job though.” You teased him, tugging softly on his beard and making him grin at you. “Where’s my fucking drink?”

“Shit, I got distracted. I’ll be right back.” He said apologetically, starting to turn away from you.

“Oh no, you are not leaving me by myself again. All I need is to get cornered by some crazy professor who wants to tell me all about bird law.” You said as you tagged after him, the two of you weaving your way through the partygoers as you made your way to the bar.

“What the fuck is ‘bird law’?” He beamed at you after ordering your drinks, leaning against the bar and cocking one eyebrow at you.

“Jesus, I think you might be too classy for me, Barber.” You teased. “We’ve gotta work on your pop culture references.”

The two of you managed to have a relatively pleasant evening, even though you had no idea what anyone was talking about most of the time. But you loved watching how relaxed Andy was around you, and how passionate he got whenever he started to debate with one of his new colleagues. He was in the middle of a particularly heated discussion about the evolution of laws regarding sovereign immunity when he noticed you gazing at him, and his face broke out in a grin.

“You’ll have to excuse me, guys, I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten and I worry I’ve been neglecting my date. Let’s continue this on Monday?”

He made his way through the party, saying some quick goodbyes as his hand rested on your lower back. You let out a soft moan when you reached the foyer and he pressed you into the wall, his lips brushing against yours before he broke away to find his coat.

He returned after a few minutes and wrapped his arms around your waist, his mouth moving against yours hungrily as he guided you out the door.

“Jesus, Andy!” You whined when he lifted you slightly as the two of you made your way to his Range Rover. You bent your knees so your toes wouldn’t drag along the pavement.

“I dunno what you expected when you were looking at me like that, sweetheart.” He teased as he wrapped one arm around you tightly and brought his other hand to fumble through his coat pockets in search of his keys.

“I couldn’t help it.” You murmured in his ear as he pressed you against the driver’s side door, working to open the door to the back seat. “All that law talk does things to me.”

“Yeah?” He muttered around a grin, finally getting the door open and setting you down across the back seat. “You didn’t find it boring?”

“Not when it was you, Professor Barber.” You said in a husky voice, winking at him as he climbed on top of you and pulled the door closed behind him.

“Fuck honey.” He growled as he tossed his coat in the front seat before burying his face in your neck. “You’re gonna need to call me professor more often.”

“Mmm, professor.” You hummed as he ran his teeth over your throat before sucking a bruise over your collarbone. “I had some questions about affidavits I was hoping you could help me with.”

He gave a dark chuckle against your chest as his mouth kept moving lower, his lips brushing over the swell of your breasts as his hands moved under your back to unzip your dress. Once he had it open he yanked it off you and tossed it aside, bending over you again to nip at your skin as you dragged his suit jacket off over his shoulders.

“Why do I feel like you just want to hear me say affidavits?” He teased as you drew his tie off and started to work on his shirt buttons. He wrapped your thighs around his hips and ground himself into you, making you whimper as a fresh rush of arousal flooded your panties.

“Fuck, say more lawyer words, professor.” You whined as he drew the straps of your bra down your shoulders, drawing your breasts out of the soft lace and wrapping his lips around one of your nipples.

“Amicus brief.” He teased as his tongue laved over your nipple and you felt your pussy clench around nothing.

He moved to give your other breast the same soft attention as you worked on undoing his belt, your breath coming in shallow gasps as he worked you over. You finally drew his belt off and he sat up to remove his slacks, his lust blown eyes never leaving yours as he dragged his pants and boxer briefs down over his legs, tossing them on top of the rest of his clothes in the front seat as his cock bounced up against his abs, making your mouth fill with saliva at the sight.

You didn’t give him a chance to dive on top of you again, instead climbing into his lap as he knelt there and sucking his lower lip into your mouth. He groaned against your lips as you brought a hand down to wrap around his dick. You dragged his length through the slick that had soaked your thighs before shoving your panties aside and guiding him to your entrance.

Andy let out a deep sigh as you sank onto him, taking his full length in one smooth motion until he was fully seated in you. His tongue pressed between your lips and curved against yours as you wrapped one hand around his neck and the other around his bicep.

“You’re so goddamn perfect, baby.” He muttered against your lips as he started moving his hips at a languorous pace. “So fucking warm and wet for me.”

“Mmm, Andy.” You moaned as you nipped at his lips softly. “I love having you inside me.”

“Yeah, pretty girl?” He murmured as he started to move a little faster. “You love feeling my big cock in that tight little pussy?”

“Fuck, I need this cock, baby.” You hissed, resting your forehead against his and staring into his eyes. “Nobody fucks me like you do.”

“Shit. You’re squeezing me so good, honey.” He muttered as he ground against you. “I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

“Fuck, I’m so close, Andy.” You whined as his hips thrust against you even harder. “God, right there. I’m gonna cum”

“Do it, I wanna see that cream all over my dick.” He buried his face in your neck and gave one last violent push of his hips.

You let out a cry as every muscle in your body went rigid, your fingers digging painfully into his neck and shoulders. Your pussy clenched around him for a beat before fluttering in your release as your torso rolled against his and a wave of intense pleasure washed over you.

“Jesus, baby.” He murmured as you came down, straightening his legs one at a time as he held you to him tightly.

You were still kneeling and the new angle had him hitting you even deeper than before, making stars burst behind your closed eyelids. Andy bent his knees slight behind you and leaned you back to rest against them as he moved his mouth to your breasts, making you whimper as his tongue brushed against your nipple.

“God, I could spend all night like this.” He murmured as he started pulling you down to him over and over, making you devolve into a mewling, whimpering mess. “My face buried in these perfect tits and my cock buried in that perfect pussy.”

You felt yourself clench around him at the praise and dug both hands in the hair at the base of his skull, pressing his mouth to your chest as you arched into him. His cock twitched inside you in response as he let out a deep groan, his hips meeting yours desperately.

“I’m gonna cum again, shit. You close, baby?” You felt him nodding between your breasts as his hips stuttered. “Fuck, I wanna feel it fill me up. I love when your cum inside me.”

“Goddamn it.” He hissed, and that was it for both of you.

Your knees squeezed his hips painfully as you tugged at his hair, a moan coming from deep in your chest as your orgasm ripped through you. Your cunt fluttered uncontrollably as your muscles spasmed around him, milking his cock for everything he could give you. He shouted your name against your chest and dug his fingers into your waist as his spend filled you up, painting your velvety walls in hot ropes that mixed with your own release and seeped over your thighs in a thick mess.

He collapsed back against the seat with a groan, taking you with him as he still held you tightly. You nuzzled into his neck as aftershocks still shook through you, your pussy clenching around his softening cock at random intervals.

“Well, fuck me Professor Barber.” You teased as he buried his face in your hair.

He let out a groan and grinned at you as he brought his face to meet yours, his tongue slipping between your lips as he kissed you deeply.

“God, I fucking love you.” He whispered without thought as his hands ran over your spine. His hands stopped suddenly as he realized what he’d said and his held his breath as he waited for your reply.

You just buried your face in his chest hair and sighed before whispering “Love you too, Andy.”

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#natalie writes #uglywombatsexpositionchallenge #andy barber/reader #andy barber fanfic #andy barber x y/n #andy barber/you #andy barber x you #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x female reader #andy barber smut #andy barber #fanfic #fanfiction #chris evans #chrisevans #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #smut #eighteen and over #eighteen plus #minors dni #no minors please

[chdarling]

Hey, it’s essay anon again lol. Thanks for the safe space to share my thoughts and analyzations. Are you ready for analysis 2.0? So, the other thing that bugs me when James dates seriously is that I believe many of us love to read about a boy who really loves a girl, and we know from canon that James always made a fool of himself around Lily, and he started to develop romantic feelings for her before she recognized it herself. So, when James is written truly fancying someone else, even when we know it’s never in the same volume of his feelings for Lily, something about it just spoils slightly the grandeur of their love story. I came to read about such a special union and love story that contributed to save the wizarding world and everything about their love changed their world forever and had such an impact on HP universe, so if Jily comes together because it didn’t work out with someone else for a tiny reason but otherwise James or Lily would have continued to date other people and live happily ever after with them, instead of really being mad about each other, can’t live without each other even while dating someone else, it feels like ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ to me, and I’m saying it as a fellow American, but many fics are infested with our ‘Americanism’ and writers write fics like a regular high school drama and making Jily seem circumstantial and mundane other than destined and grand so they can insert ‘realism’ in their portrayals (again, another point out to TLAT in that matter that kind of tainted Jily for me). So my point is, I’m not entirely against pairing James with someone else, as long as I don’t have to read him treating Lily bad or fighting with her on his girlfriend’s account. From the snippets you’ve gave us, I feel rather ok about Jily dynamic while Flormes is rolling, because we see James telling Lily how long he wanted to kiss her after their first kiss, and how she still stirs snitches in his stomach even when he dates Florence, so I’m tending to believe (or still hoping) it will play out tastefully and not as angsty as other fics. However, it is your story (which I’m a total sucker for) and so far I’m enjoying it immensely. I also love how you incorporate actual MAGIC and deep politics in your plot, and not just focusing on the romantic drama all the time, how your marauders interactions are so witty and smart, and how British your story sounds (I actually thought you are English at first) and most of all, I love it that your James is not the Adonis he never was, but many tend to write. Is it only me that think that probably Sirius used to mock James in canon (or at least my headcanon) all the time how Lily is out if his league, and “you shouldn’t marry someone way hotter than you” nonsense lmao? Anyway, this and my previous ask are the main reasons for anti-JamesXoc sentiments at least for me. Cheers queen, despite our strong feelings and protests, I wish to thank you for your kindness and patience while answering so politely and being lovely to all of us. keep blowing our minds away. and if you’ll excuse me, I have an actual ‘essay’ to write in tort law.

Hi love, sorry it took me so long to respond to this! I I can see where you’re coming from! I guess I feel a little differently in that I quite like when both James and Lily date other people because I’d rather see two people have different options but continuously choose each other, despite the challenges and obstacles in their way, despite the fact that it might be easier or more comfortable to go a different way. I think that’s what’s most romantic to me, rather than being fated per se: watching James and Lily discover, through various experiences and obstacles, that there is no one they’d rather be with, and then choosing to fight for that. 🥰

I don’t think it is a big spoiler to say that James will never treat Lily badly on Florence’s behalf. That’s definitely not the dynamic here. ❤️❤️

Thanks so much for the thoughtful message! This is such an interesting, meaty topic to dive into.

#ch answers #TLE2 #TLE2 spoilers

[carewyncromwell]

“Bloody thing -- this is the second time this month I’ve had to clean grease off the stylus...”

“Perhaps we should remind everyone to wash zheir hands before handling ze record player, in ze evenings.”

“‘Everyone?’ Hardly. Just pull Princey-Boy aside and tell him I’m going to make him swab the deck all by himself for an entire month if he does it again.”

“(trying not to smile) Monsieur Zain is improving. He actually asked to borrow my copy of Asiatic Anti-Venoms, ze other day.” 

“So he’s turning into a nerd too -- doesn’t mean he’s not kind of a lazy bum. (pauses, and then smiles wryly) ...Au moins il est amusant.”

“(smiling too) Il a du potentiel. Monsieur Aquila pense qu'il a juste besoin d'un endroit sûr pour atterrir, avant de repartir.”

“(snorts) Jules has always had way too sunny of an outlook on everything. (more lowly) ...Mais il n’est pas tort. Il est évident que Felix et Lugh aiment le brat aussi.“

“(amused) ‘Brat’ would be ‘galopin.’ Or perhaps ‘môme.’”

“Oh good, thanks. Anyway...I have no problem with him, as long as he makes himself useful. If you reckon him reading up on anti-venoms would help with that, I’m all for it.”

“I do. But perhaps zat is because I am ze resident ‘nerd’ on zis ship.”

“(laughs) Well, you're in good company. I can’t even tell you how many times I had to yank Jules’s nose out of his fantasy books when we were at school, just so he’d actually pay attention in Potions...”

x~x~x~x

Featuring Kath Alton @magical-retales and referencing Darian Zain, Jules Aquila @kathrynalicemc, Lugh Hopper @thatravenpuffwitch​, and Felix Witt @sirfluffig

Another drabble focusing on one of Desi’s friendships with her crewmates...and YAY KATH! They’re such an awesome foil for both Jules and Desi in their own fun way, serving as the human embodiment of a reality check for the Empyrean’s daydreaming captain and being the more blunt and aggressive counterpart for its lady-like First Mate. I love their relationship so much ;~;

#fantastic beasts and where to find them #kathleen alton #desiree lestrange #aesthetic #my writing #translation for some of the french dialogue... #'Au moins il est amusant' = at least he's funny #'Il a du potentiel' = he has potential #monsieur aquila thinks he just needs a safe place to land before taking off again #'Mais il n’est pas tort' = but he's not wrong #it's clear that felix and lugh like the brat too #darian zain #lugh hopper #felix witt #jules aquila #julio aquila

[strongbrew-hamstery]

Super excited to announce my new little friend who was born at @cloverlinehamstery (if you don't already follow them you should!). Battenberg (aka Berg) and Alvin had a litter born earlier this month and this little baby is one of the pups from the pairing! So pleased with a healthy litter for Cloverline 🥰💗. This little toot, named Saffron (will be called #Ronnie) is an extreme dilute cinnamon tortoiseshell long hair female who will carry recessive dappled. The cinnayum (as I call it) was a surprise but also not 😂 - Alvin's grandma Tamago was a cinnamon tort and Berg's great grandma Miel was a honey. Cinnamon is one of the genes that floats around in my lines but often doesn't express. Cinnamon is a linked gene with extreme dilute, so they like to travel in pairs and can be hard to break up. For this reason cinnamon isn't really ideal with ED... However I've learned over the years that sometimes I have to work with genes I did not expect (cinnamon and cream). I do really need a lovely female and lovely is the right word - she looks fantastic and sounds amazing. So for that reason it makes sense to work with cinnamon for now! Eventually she will fly out to Ontario to join our breeding program at Strong Brew. There are some genes that flat out shouldn't be mixed with ED - any of the greys (ie. Silver and dark) as well as rust. All three of those genes work similarly to ED and can cause phenotyping issues. I have worked incredibly hard and put my own desires (ie. Rex) to the side to keep rust out of my lines. Part of why Spudnik was so important, and my only rust free opportunity for rex. Anyways, super excited to be welcoming this little friend to the hamstery soon! For now I'm thankful for the opportunity to get a pup from Alvin, and super excited to have a small network of breeders to collaborate with. 🥰💗 https://www.instagram.com/p/CaKmJO_F3GP/?utm_medium=tumblr

#ronnie

[fireandiceland]

Idk if my ask sent but in case it didn't:

As an Austrian, what are your thoughts on HWS Austria? Do you think he's a fun interpretation?

First of all I'm so sorry that this took me forever to answer D: It took some time to think about it.

The short answer is, he's a fruity little bastard man and I feel very well represented.

The long answer is, when I first watched hetalia I was really excited to learn that there was a character for my country, but I expected something completely different. I knew that the characters are supposed to be very stereotypical, but apparently what I see as stereotypically austrian is very different from what the rest of the world thinks (or at least Himaruya). What I expected was some type of farmer with one of those big hats and lederhosen (traditional austrian clothing) and idk.. more yodeling? Anyways, it was a pleasant surprise to see that we're not perceived as that from the outside!

What I like about him is the way his jokes are delivered, it's like he's seemingly unintentionally funny and that's something I can relate to a lot. That's also something that I talked about with @amber-isnt-a-precious-stone - that both Austria and England (in hetalia and real life) have this dry, british humor.

Something else that I immediately loved about him is his fondness for sweet things. I mean the food we have here is something I love and always miss when I'm on holiday abroad, but the cakes and especially sacher torte.. that's something I don't think I could live without. We eat a lot of cake tbh, especially when we have guests over or on Sunday's it's very common to go to a cafe in the afternoon and just have a nice cup of tea or coffee and a piece of cake.

Oh, one more thing! (I hope you dont regret sending this ask, I promise I'm finished soon!) What bothers me a little (and that might also be the case for other people and the character's representing their country?) is his human name, because it's not stereotypical at all. I dont know anyone called Roderich. It's a very old name so that might be why it's so uncommon (nowadays). And his last name is also pretty uncommon, if you ask me for a typical austrian surname I'd say Mayer or Huber. But it's okay, honestly it's a fancy name for a fancy person so from that perspective.. it fits him!

I could now go on about stuff like how I perceive the relation between Austria and other countries in hetalia and in real life, but I don't really want to get into politics here so I will skip that. Let's just say historically speaking his character traits make sense (doesn't want to get involved in fighting and instead solves his problems through marriage lol).

Thank you again for the ask and I hope you dont regret giving me another good opportunity to ramble <3

#btw the original sacher torte that you can buy at the sacher hotel in vienna is NOT good #its dry and the icing is gross #self made is a million times better #recipe can be found in the author's notes at the end of my one shot 'It's Father's Day tomorrow' btw! #plz let me nap #riva.ask #i am from austria #roderich edelstein #I hate it #aph austria #about Edelstein that also might be a somewhat jewish last name? but I'm not going into that because I'm definitely not qualified to do so

[josefavomjaaga]

Eugène disobeys. Kinda.

As related before, in November 1813 Eugène had refused an offer made to him by his father-in-law to join the Allies, and he had sent a report of the event to Napoleon. Who had answered in his usual laconic way: 

Paris, November 28, 1813

My son, I receive your letter of the 22nd, 11 PM. I recognize Austria's politics very well in there; that's how she creates so many traitors.

(According to the secret envoy, Prince von Thurn und Taxis, the reaction of Eugène’s father-in-law on hearing that Eugène had refused was similarly brief: »Je les ai bien dit.« - »I had so told them that before.«)

So, that was that. In case Eugène had expected a pat on the head (which he clearly had), he got no such thing.

However, three months later Eugène would be in a position to be accused of treason (or at least disobedience) himself. On February 16, 1814, he received an order via Clarke:

Le Duc de Feltre (Clarke) à Eugène, Fevrier 9, 1814

Monseigneur,

l'Empereur me prescrit par sa lettre datée de Nogent-sur-Seine le 8 de ce mois de réitérer à Votre Altesse Impériale l'ordre que Sa Majesté lui a donné de se porter sur les Alpes aussitôt que le roi de Naples aurait déclaré la guerre à la France. D'après les intentions de Sa Majesté, Votre Altesse Impériale ne doit laisser aucune garnison dans les places d'Italie, si ce n'est des troupes d'Italie, et elle doit de sa personne venir avec tout ce qui est français sur Turin et Lyon, soit par Fenestrelle, soit par le mont Cenis. L'Empereur me charge de mander à Votre Altesse qu'aussitôt qu'elle sera en Savoie elle sera rejointe par tout ce que nous avons à Lyon.

***

Monseigneur,

the Emperor instructs me by his letter dated Nogent-sur-Seine on the 8th of this month to reiterate to Your Imperial Highness the order which His Majesty gave him to proceed to the Alps as soon as the King of Naples had declared war on France. According to the intentions of His Majesty, Your Imperial Highness must not leave any garrison in the places of Italy, except for the troops of Italy, and he himself is to come with all that is French to Turin and Lyon, either by Fenestrelle, or by Mont Cenis.

The Emperor charges me to mandate to Your Highness that as soon as he is in Savoy he will be joined by all that we have in Lyon.

This message was also supposed to be sent via telegraph, but it never seems to have reached Milan that way. Only on February 16, after receiving it via courier, Eugène writes back, asking Clarke for clarification. Leave? In the case that Murat attacks us? Or like – right now? Why? So far the Neapolitans still seem to be quite undecided; we can hold on a lot longer here.

Before Clarke can send another order, Eugène, on February 18, receives not one but two family letters:

Josephine à Eugène, (Février 9)

Ne perds pas un instant, mon cher Eugène, quels que soient les obstacles, redouble d'efforts pour remplir l'ordre que l'Empereur t'a donné. Il vient de m'écrire à ce sujet. Son intention est que tu te portes sur les Alpes, en laissant dans Mantoue et les places d'Italie seulement les troupes du royaume d'Italie; sa lettre finit par ces mots: « La France avant tout, la France a besoin de tous ses enfants! »

Viens donc, mon cher fils, accours ; jamais ton zèle n'aura mieux servi l'Empereur. Je puis t'assurer que chaque instant est précieux.

Je sais que ta femme se disposait à quitter Milan; dis-moi si je peux lui être utile? Adieu, mon cher Eugène, je n'ai que le temps de t'embrasser et de te répéter d'arriver bien vite.

***

Do not lose a moment, my dear Eugene, whatever the obstacles, redouble your efforts to fulfil the order the Emperor has given you. He has just written to me on this subject. His intention is that you should go to the Alps, leaving in Mantua and the places of Italy only the troops of the kingdom of Italy; his letter ends with these words: "France above all, France needs all her children! "

Come then, my dear son, hurry; never has your zeal served the Emperor better. I can assure you that every moment is precious.

I know that your wife was preparing to leave Milan; tell me if I can be of use to her? Farewell, my dear Eugene, I have only time to embrace you and to tell you again to arrive very soon.

And Hortense to Eugène (10 Février)

Je t'envoie la lettre de l'Empereur à l'Impératrice et la réponse de notre mère; je ne comprends rien à tout cela... Au reste, la paix se fait, car on en parle beaucoup; cela ne nous empêchera peut-être pas d'être pris à Paris, mais tout cela sera décidé dans peu de jours. Ce qui prouve bien que l'Empereur ne comptait pas sur toi pour venir en France, c'est que d'après sa lettre il dit ne t'avoir ordonné de quitter l'Italie que quand le roi de Naples lui déclarerait la guerre, et cette guerre à laquelle il devait bien s' attendre depuis longtemps, je parie qu'il s'est toujours fait illusion et ne l'a pas crue possible... Il est vrai qu'il est plus pénible de voir des torts à ceux qu'on a beaucoup aimés. Tes proclamations sont à merveille et tu ne dois jamais envier ton voisin victorieux et puissant. Tu vas t etrouver dans un grand embarras... Suis ta tête, elle te fera mieux juger ce qu'il faut faire étant de près, et je suis sûre que tu suivras toujours ton cœur en faisant ce qui sera le mieux pour servir l'Empereur, et que lui-même ne pourra jamais en douter. Comme c'est là la seule récompense que tu attends, il serait pénible de ne pas l'obtenir...  

***

I am sending you the Emperor's letter to the Empress and our mother's reply; I do not understand any of this... Besides, peace is on the way, because there is a lot of talk about it; this will perhaps not prevent us from being caught in Paris, but all that will be decided in a few days. What proves that the Emperor did not count on you to come to France, is that according to his letter he says that he ordered you to leave Italy only when the King of Naples declared war on him, and this war, that he must have expected for a long time, I bet that he was always under the illusion and did not believe it possible... It is true that it is more painful to see faults in those whom one has loved very much. Your proclamations are wonderful and you should never envy your victorious and powerful neighbour. You will find yourself in great trouble... Follow your head, it will make you better judge what to do being close, and I am sure that you will always follow your heart in doing what is best to serve the Emperor, and that he himself can never doubt it. As this is the only reward you expect, it would be painful not to obtain it...

Now Eugène, usually rather stoic and timid when dealing with Napoleon, and used to some level of verbal abuse from his step-father ever since he became viceroy of Italy, for once has had enough. What do his mother and sister have to do with any of this? He’s held out in Germany in 1813, after the Russian disaster, after Murat had left, and (as he seems to have told his Bavarian family) never even got a »thank you« for his efforts to keep the remnants of the Grande Armée together. Back in Italy he receives some lukewarm allusions about »Don’t forget to bring the silverware when you leave Italy!« - and now, instead of giving a clear order for once, Napoleon feels the need to make Eugène obey by getting involved the ex-empress? As if Eugène needed some extra incentive to follow Napoleon’s orders?

So Eugène does the logical thing: not follow Napoleon’s order. Instead, he indignantly points out how he has done nothing wrong and goes to great lengths to explain to Napoleon why he thinks this whole evacuation plan is crap anyway. (Which, admittedly, he is probably right about.)

Eugène to Napoleon, Volta, February 18, 1814

Sire, une lettre que je reçois de l'impératrice Joséphine m'apprend que Votre Majesté me reproche de n'avoir pas mis assez d'empressement à exécuter l'ordre qu'elle m'a donné par sa lettre en chiffres, et qu'elle m'a fait réitérer le 9 de ce mois par le duc de Feltre.

Votre Majesté a semblé croire aussi que j'ai besoin d'être excité à me rapprocher de la France dans les circonstances actuelles, par d'autres motifs que mon dévouement pour sa personne et mon amour pour ma patrie.

Que Votre Majesté me le pardonne, mais je dois lui dire que je n'ai mérité ni ses reproches ni le peu de confiance qu'elle montre dans des sentiments qui seront toujours les plus puissants mobiles de toutes mes actions.

L'ordre de Votre Majesté portait expressément que, dans le cas où le roi de Naples déclarerait la guerre à la France, je devais me retirer sur les Alpes. Cet ordre n'était que conditionnel; j'aurais été coupable si je l'eusse exécuté avant que la condition qui devait en motiver l'exécution eût été remplie. Mais, cependant, je me suis mis aussitôt, par mon mouvement rétrograde sur le Mincio et en m'échelonnant sur Plaisance, en mesure d'exécuter la retraite que Votre Majesté me prescrivait, aussitôt que le roi de Naples, sortant de son indécision, se serait enfin formellement déclaré contre nous. Jusqu'à présent ses troupes n'ont commis aucune hostilité contre celles de Votre Majesté; le roi s'est toujours refusé à coopérer activement au mouvement des Autrichiens, et, il y a deux jours encore, il m'a fait dire que son intention n'était point d'agir contre Votre Majesté, et il m'a donné en même temps à entendre qu'il ne faudrait qu'une circonstance heureuse pour qu'il se déclarât en faveur des drapeaux sous lesquels il a toujours combattu. Votre Majesté voit donc clairement qu'il ne m'a point été permis de croire que le moment d'exécuter son ordre conditionnel fût arrivé.

Mais si Votre Majesté veut supposer un instant que j'eusse interprété ses ordres de manière à me retirer aussitôt que je les aurais reçus, qu'en serait-il résulté?

J'ai une armée de 36,000 hommes, dont 24,000 Français et 12,000 Italiens. Mais de ces 24,000 Français, plus de la moitié sont nés dans les États de Rome et de Gênes, en Toscane et dans le Piémont, et aucun d'eux assurément n'aurait repassé les Alpes. Les hommes qui appartiennent aux départements du Léman et du mont Blanc, qui commencent déjà à déserter, auraient bientôt suivi cet exemple des Italiens, et je me serais trouvé dans les défilés du mont Cenis ou de Fenestrelle, comme je m'y trouverai aussitôt que Votre Majesté m'en aura donné l'ordre positif, avec 10,000 hommes à peine, et attirant à ma suite sur la France 70,000 Autrichiens, et l'armée napolitaine qui alors, privée de la présence de l'armée française qui lui sert encore plus d'appui que de frein, eût été forcée aussitôt d'agir offensivement contre nous. Il est d'ailleurs impossible de douter que l'évacuation entière de l'Italie aurait jeté dans les rangs des ennemis de Votre Majesté un grand nombre de soldats qui sont aujourd'hui ses sujets.

Je suis donc convaincu que le mouvement de retraite prescrit par Votre Majesté aurait élé très funeste à ses armes, et qu'il est fort heureux que, jusqu'à présent, je n'aie pas dû l'opérer.

Mais si l'intention de Votre Majesté était que je dusse le plus promptement possible rentrer en France avec ce que j'aurais pu conserver de son armée, que n'a-t-elle daigné me l'ordonner? Elle doit en être bien persuadée, ses moindres désirs seront toujours des lois suprêmes pour moi; mais Votre Majesté m'a appris que dans le métier des armes il n'est pas permis de deviner les intentions, et qu'on doit se borner à exécuter les ordres.

Quoi qu'il en soit, il est impossible que de pareils doutes soient nés dans le cœur de Votre Majesté. Un dévouement aussi parfait que le mien doit avoir excité la jalousie; puisse-t-elle ne point parvenir à altérer les bontés de Votre Majesté pour moi, elles seront toujours ma plus chère récompense. Le but de toute ma vie sera de la justifier, et je ne cesserai jamais de mettre mon bonheur à vous prouver mon attachement, et ma gloire à vous servir.

***

Sire, a letter I received from Empress Joséphine informs me that Your Majesty blames me of not putting enough eagerness into carrying out the order which you gave me by your letter in cipher, and which you had reiterated to me on the 9th of this month by the Duke of Feltre.

Your Majesty also has seemed to believe that I needed to be induced to approach France in the present circumstances, by other motives than my devotion to His person and my love for of my fatherland.

May your Majesty forgive this, but I have to tell Him I have not deserved either his reproaches or the little confidence He shows in sentiments which will always be the most powerful motives for all my actions.

Your Majesty's order explicitly stated that, in the event that the King of Naples should declare war on France, I was to withdraw to the Alps. This order was only conditional; I would have been guilty if I had executed it before the requirement for its execution had been fulfilled. But, nevertheless, I placed myself at once, by my retrograde movement on the Mincio and by spreading out towards Piacenza, in a position to execute the retreat which Your Majesty prescribed for me, as soon as the King of Naples, coming out of his indecision, had finally formally declared himself against us. Up to now his troops have not committed any hostility against those of Your Majesty; the King has always refused to cooperate actively in the movement of the Austrians, and, only two days ago, he informed me that his intention was not to act against Your Majesty, and at the same time he gave me to understand that it would only take a fortunate circumstance for him to declare himself in favour of the flags under which he has always fought. Your Majesty can therefore clearly see that I was not allowed to believe that the moment to execute his conditional order had arrived.

But if Your Majesty wishes to suppose for a moment that I had interpreted his orders in such a way as to withdraw as soon as I had received them, what would have been the result?

I have an army of 36,000 men, 24,000 of whom are French and 12,000 Italians. But of these 24,000 Frenchmen more than half were born in the states of Rome and Genoa, in Tuscany and Piedmont, and surely none of them would have re-crossed the Alps. The men from the departments of Lake Geneva and departments of Léman and Mont Blanc, who are already beginning to desert, would soon have followed the Italians' example, and I would have found myself in the defiles of Mont Cenis or Fenestrelle, as I will find myself there as soon as Your Majesty has given me a positive order, with barely 10,000 men, drawing after me 70,000 Austrians as well as the Neapolitan forces, which then, deprived of the presence of the French army which is still more of a booster than a brake, would have been forced at once to act offensively against us. Moreover, it is impossible to doubt that the entire evacuation of Italy would have thrown into the ranks of Your Majesty's enemies a great number of soldiers who are today His subjects.

I am therefore convinced that the movement of retreat prescribed by Your Majesty would have been very fatal to His arms, and that it is fortunate that, up to now, I have not had to carry it out.

But if Your Majesty's intention was that I should return to France as quickly as possible with what I could have kept of His army, why did He not deign to order me to do so? He must be well persuaded of this: His smallest desires will always be supreme laws for me; but Your Majesty has taught me that in the profession of arms it is not permitted to guess at intentions and that one must limit oneself to carrying out orders.

Be that as it may, it is impossible for such doubts to have arisen in the heart of Your Majesty. Such perfect devotion as mine must have excited jealousy; may it not succeed in altering Your Majesty's goodness to me, it will always be my dearest reward. The aim of my whole life will be to justify it, and I shall never cease to place my happiness in proving my attachment to you, and my glory in serving you.

In his letter to Josephine of the same date, he opens up even more, complaining loudly:

[…] I had not believed I had reached the point where I needed to give the Emperor proof of my fidelity and my devotion! I can, in all this, see only one thing: that I have enemies, and that they are jealous of the, I dare say honourable, way in which I have managed to get through the most difficult circumstances. To this, I will respond by the testimony of truth. Here it is in its entirety:

For over three months that I had remained without direction or instruction from the Emperor, I received from him, around the 1st of February, only a ciphered letter, which told me that, in the event that the King of Naples declared war on France, I was to withdraw to the Alps. This order was thus conditional, and seemed to say to me: " In such a case you will not be able to hold out in Italy; in this case you must cover the gates of France, etc."

But I had put myself in direct contact with the king; I sent him every day, since his arrival in Bologna, an officer who made him think of peace as being near, who confided in him the indignation which the army felt, who told him that he would be lost forever in history if he dipped his hands in French blood; finally, that it was quite obvious that the enemy was playing with him. […]

And so on, and so on. He’s clearly feeling hurt by what he sees as Napoleon’s distrust. He – of course – also tells his (pregnant) wife Auguste about it, who is not too happy about Napoleon’s behaviour towards Eugène anyway and only too ready to share Eugène’s indignation.

And this in turn will set the stage for the final chapter of this tragicomedy: the big question of Auguste’s confinement.

#eugene de beauharnais #napoleon #auguste of bavaria #josephine #hortense de beauharnais #italy1814 #father-son-relationships tend to be a bumpy road

[haxorus-imp]

Little Digital Family - Buddy Simulator 1984 - shortfic

No relationships - Gender neutral characters - Family Dynamics

While in the town in the North, now renamed Happyville, A certain clothed hero was happily carrying a basket full of flowers and other goodies back home. While helping the town of Happyville for the most of the day, Tortely was generous enough to give the hero a gift basket as a thank you for all of their hard work. Their little black eyes were arched up to represent a hidden happy smile as they carried their goodies back to the boat that sat docked at the pier. Their little feet scurry onto the dock and quickly hop into the boat and place their goods down in the free space of the boat. Waving goodbye to the person fishing near the dock as they grab the ore and begin to make their way back. It was a bit of a trip, crossing the deep dark pond all by themself. However, the thought of showing Buddy their newly acquired gifts helped spur on their determined ride back home. Once the opposing dock came into view, the little ghost-like hero made headway and pulled into the dock. Roping it and tying it down before grabbing their goody basket and hopping off. They eagerly trot off the pier and head south, towards a singular house that was painted their favorite color. It was even made by their best friend, Buddy, which gave it a more cozier feel. They hurry towards the home, past the playground, shed, and towards the entrance. They hold their prize in one arm as they jiggle the door handle and open it. The smell of dinner was wafting out through the entrance as the small hero entered their abode. The sound of alerted barking was enough to make them realize they were home. Then, the sound of rapid footsteps descending the staircase caught their attention as they closed the front door behind them. They were then glomped by their second best friend, their pet. 

It jumps on them and lets out some happy yips as they lick the small hero, enticing some happy laughter to spill from them.

They tried to calm the pet down as they were still holding their gift basket. Trying to worm their way around the excited pet and towards the kitchen. There, standing in the kitchen, was their best friend; Buddy. If anyone else saw them, they probably would freak out. However, the little hero squeaked out a greeting and a small wave. The very tall, white, and lanky figure looked up from their place at the stove. Turning slightly to greet the ghost-like hero that just came in through the door. They wave back in response. “Back from your trip to the North already?” The lanky figure says, tilting their blank face a bit in some unspoken curiosity as the small hero places the gift basket on the counter. “What do you have there?” The lanky figure asks. The small ghostly hero claps their hands and mentions Tortely, happily gesturing to the gift basket full of flowers, candy, and letters from the townsfolk. They seemed so elated that even their pet was getting a bit excited, sitting next to the hero as their tail wagged excitedly as they recalled how they got the gift. Buddy could only nod as they finished preparing a dish that happened to share the little heroes' favorite color. They place it on the counter next to the gift basket, nodding happily. “Well, why don’t you tell me all about your day over dinner?” Buddy says, walking slowly past the kitchen and towards the very small living room. Buddy promptly sits down in the only chair that was present in the ‘living room’ that made up the front part of the house. Stretching out their limbs as their head watches the little hero. The smaller hero eagerly picks up a smaller bowl from the counter and scoops some food out for their quadruped friend, setting on the ground and allowing the pet to munch away on some of the dinner. Then, they scoop up the rest and happily trot over to Buddy. It was kinda sad that Buddy didn’t need to eat or sleep. But, at least that left them open for some conversation. They walk over to Buddy and put the food in their inventory before jumping up and climbing onto buddy’s lap. This has happened multiple times now, so Buddy wasn’t too surprised. The little ghost-like hero nestles in on Buddys’ lap, then they pull the food out from their inventory and begin to munch away while telling Buddy all that occurred that day. The pet even finished their share of the meal while the little hero was still talking. Now comfortably nestled at the feet of Buddy. Seemingly listening in as well. Buddy was occupied with listening to their tale and stroking the back of the little ghosts’ head, affectionately as they continued on with their single conversation.

It was typical of Buddy to not talk too much unless they were narrating another adventure. But when all is quiet and peaceful, they became much more of a listener. And listening to how their little best friend made some more friends and helped out people all day and got a generous and gracious reward in return was a story that would never get old. Buddy listens intently, waiting patiently for their little best friend to finish. Finally, with one long exhausting breath, they finish the tale by explaining how they came home. Their dinner was eaten up and their cloak was a bit messy, other than that little messy detail, they were okay. They happily catch their breath as Buddy nods in affirmation. “It seems like you had a rather eventful day…” Then, their little ghost-like friend lets out a large hidden yawn. “And a tiring one, it seems. Come on, let's get you to bed. The sun has already set anyway.” Buddy explains, gesturing to the dimmed lights outside. Then, Buddy cradles the little hero as they stand up. They wrap their long arms around their smaller charge as they are carried in Buddy’s hands. The bowl is sat aside on the counter while the little hero nestles in. The pet eventually sits up and begins to follow Buddy upstairs, their tail wagging all the while. Buddy then opens the door to the upstairs bedroom, walking inside while their drowsy charge lets out another big yawn. The pet eagerly followed behind, curious as to where they were going.

Buddy walks over to the singular bed in the room, one large white hand pulling back the covers, and the other slowly setting their smaller best friend down into the bed. With a swift movement of their hands, the smaller hero was placed into the bed and the covers were pulled up over their smaller form. “There. All snug in bed. You had a long day. Sleep as much as you’d like.” Buddy speaks, content at their bundled up form.

The smaller hero nods and rubs their eye with a covered hand. Noticing their pet waiting at the foot of their bed, they pat the bed, beckoning the animal to come up. The animal doesn’t need anymore convincing as the animal jumps up and happily lays down. Curling up slightly as they get nestled in for the night. Buddy stands at their bedside, nodding in contentment as the small hero waves to them. As if beckoning them too. Buddy shakes their head. “Sorry. I’m too big to join in. I don’t need sleep anyway...but thanks for the offer.” Buddy replies, having to stand their ground, even with the sad look that the short hero through their way. Buddy then nods slowly. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight.” Buddy says their last farewell as they head to the door that leads downstairs. They take no time in disappearing from the heroes room, slinking out the door as silently as they could. Then, it was just the hero and their second best friend. The little hero snuggles in and pulls the sheets up to their face as they watch the trees outside sway in an unspoken breeze. The movements were hypnotic and it caused them to release another yawn. They look down towards the foot of the bed, seeing their pet nestled in soundly and comfortably. The atmosphere that resonated throughout the room was tranquil and quiet. Just peaceful enough for someone to get some shut eye. The little hero then pulls the covers up and their little eyes begin to slowly drift shut. Exhaustion slowly catching up to them from the long day they had. Helping so many people was so exhausting. However, it was worth it. Because if they got to come home to their two best friends, what else could they need in this digital life? They loved Buddy and they loved their companion. Everything was okay. Everyone was fine and tomorrow was another day. With a blissful sigh, the smaller hero closed their eyes and soon, the room was filled with soft snores and silent dreams of their friends and platonic family.

#buddy simulator 1984 #Fanfic #Shortfic #No romance #Family dynamics #The little hero is precious baby #Buddy is big tall scary caretaker #Pet is Pet

[hockeylvr59]

Knight in Shining Armor || Seth Jones

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: So I had this concept in my drafts to write for like a year for another player (coughcoughSeguin) but since he’s not on my good list right now and I’ve been wanting to write about Seth for a while, I decided that the concept would work great for him. This is mostly platonic but there’s kind of an underlying current of more so let me know what you think of it. 

Warnings: shitty ex-friends, lingering grief 

Word Count: 2,868

______

Most days you were in love with your job. Being one of the few female television broadcasters for a professional sports team was a major accomplishment and you tried to never take a day of it for granted. You were setting the stage for women in the future and that was a source of tremendous pride for you. You got to watch a sport you loved and see players that would someday be in the hall of fame take the ice. You got to travel to places that you’d probably never visit otherwise.

While the perks were numerous, there were also things that sucked. 

Though most of the time the travel didn’t bother you, sometimes you found yourself sick of climbing on planes, sleeping in hotel rooms, and living out of a suitcase. Then there were the emotionally draining things like constantly being criticized by male fans because of course, a woman couldn’t possibly be competent enough to do color commentary for a major sport. Finally, there were the late nights. 

Tonight was one of those days where you weren’t quite so in love with your job. You were two cities into a six-city road trip and it was that time of the month. In your haste of packing, you’d forgotten to replenish your supply of feminine products and so you’d had to rush to a drug store while praying that you didn’t bleed through your pants. After putting out that fire, you’d gotten yourself ready for the game before heading over to the arena with your co-anchor. Running behind had meant that you’d missed dinner, however, and press box food wasn’t your favorite. Setting into your seat after touching up your hair and makeup you waited for the puck to drop between the Jackets and the Sabres. 

By the first intermission, the lack of food and mother nature’s wrath had left you with a burgeoning migraine. You’d searched your bag for a bottle of Advil, only to find it empty. A quick inquiry with the rest of the media during a commercial break also turned up empty. While the roller of peppermint essential oil you did have took a little bit of the edge off, no matter how many times you had reapplied it you wanted nothing more than to go lay down by the time the final horn sounded. 

Usually, you stopped down at the locker room to congratulate the team, however, tonight you just needed to get back to the hotel while you still had the faculties to do so. 

Once back at the hotel you changed and crawled into bed, laying in the dark in hopes that a lack of visual stimuli and quiet would make the pain lessen. You’d been laying there for roughly half an hour when there was a knock on your door that caused you to groan. When the knock sounded once more, you pried yourself out of bed and padded over to the door, peering through the peephole. Standing on the other side was Seth Jones. Curious as to why the Blue Jackets defenseman was there you flipped open the security latch before opening the door. 

“Hey,” Seth whispered and your eyes furrowed both from confusion and pain. With the latter suppressing your filter words filtered out of your mouth. 

“What are you doing here?” You inquired, running the hand not holding the door through your hair. 

“Missed you in the locker room after the game. Saw the second intermission report and thought you could use these.” He mused, his eyes taking in your appearance more fully. It was only then that you glanced down to see the pill bottle in his hands. “Snatched these from the training room.” He admitted with a smile. 

“You’re a saint Jonesy.” You admitted, your body language softening at the prospect of actually getting enough relief to sleep. Taking the bottle from his outstretched hand you sent him as much of a smile as you could muster. 

“Anything for my favorite broadcaster.” He responded shrugging. “Need you back in top form for the next game.” He teased. “And migraines aren’t any fun and you look like you’re suffering pretty bad.” He added, his hands now drifting to the pockets of his suit. “Anyway...take those and get some sleep huh?” He instructed and when you nodded he turned to walk away. 

“Hey, Seth…” You started. “Thank you.” 

~~~~~~

After leaving Buffalo, the team had dipped up to Ottawa before flying down to Boston for a game against the Bruins. The team had a day off between the two games however and had decided to go out for the night, have a few drinks, and just relax before a tough game the following day. You’d been invited by a bunch of the younger guys and though the club scene really wasn’t your thing you’d agreed. 

Dressed in a pair of form-fitting jeans and a flirty blouse you made your way through the crowd to the bar for a bottle of water. You’d been dancing with Pierre but you’d sent him to chase after a woman who had caught his eye and now you were parched. It wasn’t until you were leaning against the bar trying to flag down the bartender that you noticed that someone you really didn’t want to see was just a few spots down. 

Ducking your head you prayed that he didn’t notice you, but of course, despite being short, he was suddenly at your side, calling out your name over the crowd. 

You’d known Jake in high school, had been close friends and something else that you could only describe as awkward. You hadn’t dated, he’d had other girlfriends at the time but you’d definitely toed the line of appropriateness regarding your conversations. He’d hurt you badly a few years ago and you hadn’t spoken since. Honestly, talking to him now was the last thing you were interested in. You’d known he was living in Boston but what were the odds he’d be at this club the one night you were in town. 

As he stood beside you, his hand fell to your arm that was resting on the bar and he was asking if he could buy you a drink. You wanted to tell him to go away, you wanted to shove his hand off of you, you wanted to insist that you were good and to go shove the drink but suddenly you couldn’t speak and you couldn’t move. In that moment you felt beyond vulnerable. 

And then suddenly a warm arm draped itself around your waist and you were tugged into the side of a firm body. The second the scent of his cologne filled your nose, you relaxed against him and glanced up to see Seth’s figure hovering over you. 

“Hey sweetheart, I have a bottle of water for you at the table.” He declared, tone soft as he directed the words at you but with enough volume that your unwelcome company was certain to hear it. “Josh has a story he refuses to tell until you’re there.” He added, giving you every excuse to step away from the bar. 

“Uh...yeah...coming.” You agreed, turning back toward your former friend for just a second. “Sorry gotta go...the gang beckons.” Not giving him a chance to respond, you let Seth lead you across the club to the table that your group had claimed as its own. Cam Atkinson was the only one present at the table, nursing a beer as he typed furiously on his phone. 

Pulled in beside Seth, you found that there was indeed a sealed water bottle waiting for you and you sighed feeling your body relax now that there was some distance between you and Jake. 

“Thank you.” You murmured. It was the second time on this trip that you’d spoken the words to Seth after he’d saved you. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Seth insisted. “You looked uncomfortable and no one deserves that. Do I need to go back up there and kick his ass?” He inquired and though you were certain Seth could indeed kick Jake’s ass there wasn’t any need for that. 

“No, it’s okay.” You assured him, relaxing against his body as his arm settled around your shoulders. “Just a former friend that I didn’t expect to see...nor do I ever want to see again.” You sighed. Seth didn’t pry into that statement, but his fingers tracing patterns over your arm expressed that he was willing to listen if you did want to talk about it. 

For the rest of the night, Seth didn’t leave your side, going as far as walking you up to your hotel room. Having Seth by your side made you feel safe and as you opened your hotel room door, you once again expressed your thanks. 

~~~~~~~

The last stop on your long road trip was Winnipeg. You’d arrived around 2 in the morning and had fallen into bed almost immediately upon reaching your hotel room. 

Around 4 in the morning you were jolted awake by a shrill piercing sound. Checking your phone you saw group messages from the boys saying that you all needed to evacuate the hotel immediately. With the timestamps being nearly four minutes earlier, your heart raced and you threw on the nearest clothing items you could find before sliding on your slippers. 

Of course, a Jackets hoodie, thin tights, and indoor slippers were no match for the Winnipeg winter. But you didn’t realize that in your panicked state until the harsh wind whipped right through them as you made your way across the sidewalk to where the rest of the team was standing. Tucking your arms around yourself tightly, you stopped by Torts to see if he knew what was going on and how long you’d have to be outside in the middle of the night. He didn’t have any answers to give you and you sighed nodding, a yawn slipping from your throat. 

Around you, all of the guys were grumbling, but you quickly noticed that they’d all had at least enough foresight to throw on more substantial clothing. And those who hadn’t...well they were Canadian and probably didn’t feel the cold anyway. 

Shivering, you tried pacing around to keep the blood flowing so that maybe you wouldn’t feel the cold but it wasn’t working well. Passing a group of the guys you felt an arm reach out and tug you closer and when you looked up, Seth was gazing down at you. 

“C’mere.” He mumbled, his voice showing that he wasn’t exactly happy to be woken from sleep either. “Someone forgot Winnipeg was cold.” He teased and a slight blush covered your cheeks. You could play it off as the cold though if anyone noticed, thankfully. Now stopped in front of Seth, you watched as he unzipped his coat and pulled your body against his before rezipping it as much as he could around two bodies. 

With your chest pressed to his and his arms wrapped around you along with the coat, you were suddenly filled with a comfortable warmth and you burrowed yourself into his body as much as you could. 

“Better?” He asked and feeling you nod he chuckled softly. “Good. Can’t have you freeze now can we?” 

Thankfully all of his teammates were too sleepy to even really notice your intimate position because if they had they certainly would have chirped both of you to no end. Standing wrapped in Seth’s jacket until the all-clear was given and you were permitted to return to your rooms you couldn’t help but notice the rhythm of his breathing, the sound of his heart beating, and the way your body fit against his in spite of the height difference. 

As the two of you parted, you moved to thank him but Seth just pulled you into a quick hug before retreating down the hall. It was evident that you were both too tired to say the words but that he knew you meant them all the same. 

~~~~~~

Arriving home from the road trip was such a relief. You were ready to sleep in your own bed, ready for a day off. Still, as the boys chatted about what they were going to do with said day off as a group of you walked across the tarmac to your respective cars, the significance of tomorrow’s date flooded into your head and you froze. 

“Y/N…” Boone stated, trying to snap you out of your haze. 

“Huh?” You responded. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” He asked. 

“Um...probably just running some errands…” You said, your voice cracking as you spoke. “And a stop at the cemetery.” None of the boys knew much about your personal life, certainly not nearly as much as you knew about theirs. At your admission, no one knew what to say and you said goodbye to them as you tossed your bag into your car. 

By the time you’d gotten up the next morning, had cleaned yourself up and gotten dressed, had started a load of laundry, and placed a grocery order for pickup it was almost 11am. Since the forecast showed rain in the afternoon you knew that if you were going to stop at the cemetery that you needed to go now. 

Heading down to your car, you paused seeing someone leaning against the hood. Anxiously stepping closer, you let out a soft breath recognizing Seth’s frame and mannerisms. Beside him was a drink holder with two cups inside and you adjusted your purse on your shoulder as you approached him. 

“What are you doing here?” You questioned. Seth shrugged for a moment before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

“Thought you could use some company…” He expressed, reaching to grab a cup, handing it to you. “It’s hot chocolate.” He explained and though you weren’t sure why he wanted to tag along, how long he’d been standing there or a multitude of other questions, you took the cup from him, taking a sip and letting the warmth of the drink flood through you. 

Unlocking your car, you watched as Seth folded himself into the passenger seat. The drive across town was quiet, only the radio playing softly providing background noise. As you pulled your car into the cemetery, already you could feel your throat getting tight and you forced yourself to breathe, using the mental task of navigating to the right part of the cemetery to distract yourself. 

With the car in park, you opened your door, turning back to reach into the center console for a stray hockey puck. Though Seth climbed out of the car as well, he just stood leaning against it as you made your way down the hillside. 

It took a minute for you to find the appropriate plot, but once you had you knelt down on the cold ground, your fingers brushing over the lettering of the marker partially buried in the ground. No matter how many times you were here, this never got easier and tears quickly started streaming down your cheeks. With the ground solid beneath you, you settled to sit by the grave, your hands laying the puck down on it gently. 

For the next few minutes, you talked about work, the games on this latest road trip, how you’d gotten the puck you’d brought, and what you were looking forward to with the rest of the season. At some point, you started whispering about Seth and how he was slowly invading your life, questioning whether any of your family up in heaven had thoughts on that they’d like to share. 

Though you didn’t want to leave, you knew you needed to and so you said your goodbye, your until next times, and a soft ‘happy birthday’ before picking up the puck and pushing yourself to your feet. As you made your way up the hill, sobs racked your body and tears flooded your cheeks. Reaching the car, you barely even noticed Seth’s open arms as you stepped into them, his fingers tangling in your hair as he held you close. His other hand gently rubbed your back until your breathing steadied again and when you pulled back, he was offering you a handkerchief to wipe your tears. 

“Do you need me to drive?” He whispered softly, not trying to push you into it but needing to ensure that you were truly alright. 

“Can you?” You requested and after handing over the keys, you traded spots, sliding into the passenger seat. Seth had barely left the cemetery gates when his hand drifted down to wrap around yours and you couldn’t help but watch him as he drove. You’d never met someone who was so silently supportive, who always seemed to know exactly what you needed, and who made your heart skip a beat when he looked at you. 

He was your knight in shining armor and an angel in disguise, making all of the hard things a little easier and the good things even better. The future was unclear but you were quickly learning that you wanted to face all of it with him by your side. 

#seth jones #seth jones imagine #columbus blue jackets imagine #columbus blue jackets #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #cbj #028

[jojo-reader-hell]

Bucci Gang x Reader: Adheridos Separados

A story about coming home from a foreign country. Focuses on Hispanic!Reader because I need representation. So if you’re not Hispanic congrats, you are now.

You’re filthy.

You smell like a mixture of crotch, urine, and death breath. Didn’t even brush your teeth the morning you left Helsinki nor did you bother at the various terminals you visited.Just jumped out of bed and took off, didn’t even change out of your pajamas.

Hair in knots, beat up leather jacket around your shoulders, you sneak glances here and there as the plane descends. Thank God, she gave you enough money for two tickets, so you were able to avoid tormenting an unfortunate seatmate for five and a half hours. Instead by your side sat your black guitar case, the sole piece of luggage you carried with you wherever you went.

Please… Fucking shit… Please let them be there…

Thank God Finland was only one hour ahead. At first you were worried you wouldn’t make it in time, they didn’t linger during lunch. Not when there were other things to take care of, if the boys got into a fight they left early, or if one of them got a wild hair and decided to eat somewhere else, Libeccio might very well be empty by the time you found a taxi and this makes you sweat even more.

Hurry the fuck up!!

Your boot makes a pattering sound as you bounce your leg in anticipation. You keep muttering under your breath for the pendejo flying the plane to hurry his lazy ass up, hand wrapped around the handle of your guitar case as though you’re going to swing it out at the first person who tries to line up before you in the skinny aisle of the plane. Around you, the world moves on. Some people speak in Finnish, occasionally there’s the obnoxious American tourist gushing and you understand simple words like “ocean” and the ever annoying “oh my gawwwwwwwd”, even some Italians are on this flight, complaining about the lows of negative seven Celsius and how they’re looking forward to the warmth back home.

“Apurate cabron!” you nearly scream it out but it catches hoarsely in your throat.

No one seems to notice your distress. It’s probably for the best. You don’t want to talk to anyone else right now. You’re itching to go, bouncing in your seat when the wheels touch down and barely hearing the roar of the brakes through the pounding of your heart in your ears. You stand even before the seat belt lights turn off, conventional airline etiquette can suck your clit if any of these fuckers think for a minute you’re going to wait for them to get off first.

Rude as ever, you push your way to the front, earning a lot of complaints from the passengers but silencing them with a red hot glance of murder when you bullied your way to the front of the plane.

You don’t even bother to take in the sight of the white walls of Napoli Airport like the tourists do. You book it out of the gate, guitar case swinging haphazardly as you break into a sprint out of the terminal. This time, you didn’t bother to waste another minute with a letter. If you had, they’d be waiting for you with a car, and this would have taken seconds to quell the heartache you felt in your chest.

But to hell with wasting time that could get you home quicker. You didn’t even wait for the snow to melt in the country you were staying in. As soon as she gave you the money to leave you left, not even pausing once to say goodbye to the two old women that had shown you what was in your heart.

Scanning the front of the airport for a familiar yellow color, you manage finally to flag someone down. Quickly you enter, slamming the door once you’re seated next to your guitar case. You don’t let the man get a word in edgewise. Waving a stack of bills in the driver’s face, you tell in lispy Italian where you need to go, not caring that his smile is really a cruel mockery and turning it into a frown when you open your mouth again.

“Did you hear a word I said? Hurry up and drive me there! I know my Italian is not so very bad. ¡Ya me tienes harto! ¡Vete a la chingada!”

The effect is instantaneous. Both languages are not so different that the Italians cannot understand what you’re saying. Often you talk a lot of shit in your native language, earning mean looks from the person that hears it, and the driver swears at you before peeling out of the front of Napoli Airport. There’s something in your eyes that makes him afraid to do more than call you a dirty whore, he didn’t even kick you out when you started back at him in Castiliano. The both of you argue the whole way, bitching at one another until you throw the stack of bills on his lap before you exit, leaving your new best friend with a nice piece of advice:

“¡Tómate tu dinero y mételo en el culo!” you scream.

“Vai a cagare brutta stronza!”

You laugh. You start fucking howling when you slam the door of the taxi, leaning on your guitar as he peels off. Of course the entire street is staring, but you could really give a fuck less.

God dammit… You’re HOME!

“Bahahahaahahaha! D-did you see that?” you’re too choked up, shaking even as it appears you’re talking to thin air. “He… he called me a bitch! HAHAHAHAHA!”

A throaty metallic laugh sounds off next to you, a rather tall figure in black puts a hand up to the only part of her face that’s not covered by her helmet. A filthy word in Spanish blinks across her helmet, and you laugh harder, clutching your stomach and not even bothering with the looks or the mutterings of what a freak you are. You must look like some smelly nut job, but you could care less.

“Come on,” you tell your Stand, gesturing with the guitar case towards the restaurant. “Let’s go!”

The Brainwasher’s coo sounds almost like a chirp. She follows eagerly behind you as you walk the few blocks towards the restaurant. Stubborn asshole didn’t even drop you at the front like they usually did, probably shouldn’t have said you fucked his mother, but whatever. It wasn’t like you were ever going to need to take a taxi again in your life anyways. Finally you look up at the streets you couldn’t stop seeing in your dreams. Everything is clean, just how you left it before the beginning of autumn. Everything stays, but there are some subtle differences in how you perceive the facades, the green awnings and black telephone wires with birds, the red brick buildings and the smell of freshly cooked Napoli fare. It hits you how hungry you were, not just for a meal, but for the comfort you had here in this town.

They have to be here, you think to yourself as you slow your pace and your racing heart, I made it just in time… They probably just sat down to eat and I’m going to walk in on them drinking, probably starting on torte alle frogole or perhaps I’ll catch them in the middle of a bite of veal… And when I get my kisses, they’re going to taste so sweet no matter what they’ve been eating…

Your Stand chirrups in delight, the word “Papi” blinking across her helmet in pink along with a series of hearts all in the different colors of the rainbow. You smile at The Brainwasher, and she gives you a toothy grin in return as the both of you take your time to savor the streets of Naples. You want to take it in slowly, it’s been too long already… But on the opposite side of the coin you feel as though you’re merely trying to hold back the full body vibrating you feel at the prospect of seeing the loves of your life for the first time in what feels like forever.

Strange, you think as you enter the restaurant and see the host’s eyes light up, It never used to feel like I was away very long before. It felt like I’d never left, and I’d actually start feeling an anxiety… now… I feel like I’ve been away too long…

“Singorina Esposito!”

You laugh.

“I told you to call me by my first name.” you grin. “Please, is he… are they all…?”

The words can’t come to you, but he knows what you want and wordlessly ushers you through the tables to the back.

“Of course Singorina Espo- I… apologies! Yes, they’re all here today!”

The fake name you’ve been given never ceases to amuse you. With a bit of morbid curiosity, you’ve come to find the identity one of your boyfriends has given you in order for you to stay long periods of time actually is a throw away name for Italian orphans. But it’s more amusing than insulting, because it can also be a cute way of calling someone “husband” in your native language, and you waste no time informing your boyfriend.

“What? You miss me that much you want to marry me?” you’d asked coyly, laughing at his red face. “Uh? Am I your husband, and you’re the wife? Pining for me every time I have to leave for work? Then come here and give your esposo a kiss~.”

“SHOW HIM SOME RESPECT!”

You stop short of the archway and peer into the reserved area. There’s tea all over the table, the remains of a shattered cup staining the floors with dark liquid and you catch a whiff of Darjeeling. One boyfriend screams at the others, a stranger next to him with gold hair as both have their backs to you. Your breath catches in your throat… There’s an air of uncertainty. You want to call out to them, to say something, but all the things you intended to say to them clog in your vocal cords and you can’t even gurgle out one word in Italian.

The Brainwasher flickers to life next to you.

“Ya llegué.” She whispers softly.

Time stops. Six pairs of eyes fall on you, one unfamiliar, the other five with some sort of confusion. You see the emotions mix, tumble over one another, until warm recognition makes you smile in delight.

“H-…”

A scream, a yelp of your name is all you hear as you’re suddenly pinned to the floor by an overly exuberant mass of orange, leather and messy black hair. The case in your hand is pulled out of your grasp last minute by The Brainwasher, and she has only moments to react before you are completely taken over by bodies.

“MIA RAGAZZA!”

All of them are screaming your name, kisses are planted on every bit of exposed skin. Someone bites your earlobe and you exclaim out in pain, the one who tackled you takes advantage of this and you taste the sweetness of his tongue against yours, hearing him moaning loudly into the kiss. Your tangles are yanked back and you’re separated from your attacker, mouth taken up into another kiss that tastes of strawberries and cream while your lips are smeared with purple lipstick.

“Where the fuck were you all this time?!” screams the one that bit you.

“You didn’t even call or write!” whines the tackler.

Another body just as ripe as yours heaves you all up off the floor.

“Yuck! You stink!” he cries, and you feel tears dribble onto your face as he clutches you tightly to his smelly chest. “You’re so gross… You… You…!”

This whole time you haven’t made a sound. You’re far too caught up in the lips and the tongues that pull you in several directions at a time to notice that you’ve drawn the attention of everyone in the entire restaurant. You don’t even care that The Brainwasher has disappeared and dropped your case to the floor, not when your heart is bursting and you’re being showered in all the love you’ve craved over the last few months. What a difference it made, now that your eyes were wide open and you could see clearly without the other emotions bogging you down.

Remember what I told you. Hold them close. Be thankful for the freedom they’ve given you…

You look up when you hear your name murmured.

There he is… He’s still as handsome as ever. Looking you over with those ocean eyes as his face contorts like he’s going to cry at any moment. The others let you out of their grasp reluctantly, you still feel fingers on your back as you step closer, but you don’t have to move any further.

Olive toned hands take your face up, your skin is covered in lipstick and tears and snot bubbles and you still smell like a toilet but he doesn’t care a whit. He merely swipes a thumb across your cheek, his eyes squinting into a smile, lower lip quivering as though he’s afraid to kiss you.

“I’m home.” You tell him simply. Like you went to the grocery store for some milk.

He says nothing. Takes you up in his grasp and kisses you like his life depends on it, the clean taste of his mouth against yours as you wrap your arms around his neck. As Bruno Buccellati kisses you fervently, you feel the bodies of your other lovers engulf you. Leone Abbacchio’s large hands caress your waist, Narancia Ghirga pulls on the hem of your pants, Pannacotta Fugo and Guido Mista can’t help but take each arm and pepper kisses on every inch they can get a hold of. You’re ensconced in this feeling. Well loved. Steaming hot and relieved from the cold of loneliness you’d been feeling the entire winter.

As you’re being showered in affection, you don’t notice the last pair of eyes viewing this display with a strange, mounting envy. You don’t notice him cock his head as the boys kiss and complement you. Wanting to know who this stranger is, and why it seems that the gangsters before him are so desperate to shower you with affection.

Much to his displeasure, he wants to know why he suddenly wants to take the time to greet you with a kiss as well, to see you squirm and giggle and moan beneath his touch…

#bruno bucciarati x reader #leone abbacchio x reader #narancia ghirga x reader #guido mista x reader #pannacotta fugo x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #jjba x reader #jjba reader insert #jjba #jojo’s bizzare adventure vento aureo #jojo's bizarre adventure #reader insert fiction #hispanic!reader

[zumpietoo]

Holy shit I got it Amiee threaten to sue you and called you out to face your problems with legal action and now you Aree so beyond jealous of her, You blame her for everything.You legit blame her for every troll comment on your page very very eye-opening anyway have a good night. You’re not worth my time . But per usual you will send some immature slam to me about why am here and why am on your page and why am I ignorant, got it Your goddamn broken record Amiee why are you here, Fuck off

Ummm....yes and, guess what? She never followed thru, didn't have the terminology correct, didn't grasp the difference between a tort (civil wrong) and a criminal act (cuz also threatened me with jail, hilariously!).

Additionally, thanks for reminding me how really, really, REALLY funny it all was and how hard I laughed at her. Additionally, thanks for reminding me how WEIRD it was that she came raging back threatening me for saying something she had most assuredly stated and then wildly implied....but was so suddenly pressed over just that one element....not that she had doxxed him (and her princess would doxx him a second time), not that he had a hellstorm of hate raining down on him (and that I was the person who got her to at least post her flimsy attempt at calling off her teen minion army), noooo.....that Cole was a cheater....

I gotta say, I'll never stop wondering what it was he threatened her with that had her so pressed.....

Also, again, LOVE how you always get it backwards: I don't have to "fuck off", I'm here, it's my blog, I can do what I want....that would be for YOU to do. And I'm very happy I'm "not worth your time", maybe you'll find a more productive activity----like getting the therapy you clearly need desperately for dealing with your apparent OCD...

Also, why TF would I be jealous of AMY of all peeps?? She can't cook, dress or decorate for shit....I'm not sure she can actually read...

[missrufaro]

Yo lioden players!

Will work 4 torts ❤️

Yes, yall heard right, I’m looking for giant torts. Those lovely morsels that will help my next project.

See, I’ve been on lioden for 8 years (pic included bc I still don’t believe it’s been that long either) and I have never reached the highest exploration area. I get as far as the desert then my king dies. Every damn time, ever since they released the current explore map.

I aim to change that with my next boy.

Conversion rate as follows: 1GB=1 Tort

SO. Here’s what I have to offer:

1. Lionesses! I have some lovely 2k+ stat lionesses for sale. I accept GB or Torts. Their topic is here- https://www.lioden.com/topic.php?id=304429425169

2. Art of your lions or OCs! I’d like to think I’m semi decent at art...somewhat. Kinda. Idk. I get mild success here and there. Anyway; yes. Art! I can draw your lions or OCs, just head on over to my shop for examples and info! https://www.lioden.com/topic.php?id=304429418701

3. Designs! Yes, more art. I sell designs/adoptables. All hand drawn by yours truly ❤️ nothing take your fancy? I do customs too! There’s a link in the description ❤️ https://www.lioden.com/topic.php?id=304429424201

And hey, if you’ve managed to make it this far, fully, word for word. Ilu. It’s not often I do posts like this and ya girl tends to ramble ;w; nonetheless, I really hope to see you over there! If you want to message me, my ID is #4834 c:

Thanks so much for looking!

#lions #lioden #lion #art #adoptables #commission #torts

[fallinnflower]

lilili yabbay

the8 x reader (angst, vampire!the8)

jun   hoshi   the8   dino

“you make me look at the moon and pray / pray that you’ll look at me”

Minghao has seen terrible things. He’s seen beautiful things, too, and he’s seen things that somehow are both at once and leave him still with a strange feeling in his chest to remember. And yet, of all the things he’s seen in his life, he decidedly likes you best above all. 

Xu Minghao is 327 years old to the day when he meets you. And although he isn’t foolish enough to believe this is fate, or destiny, that he’s lived for centuries just to meet you, he will admit that you seem to have made all that slow-moving time seem quite worth it to him.

In his current identity, current life, he is living in Seoul with a clan of twelve others. The only other member from China, a comparatively fresh vampire at only 150 years, insisted on celebrating Minghao’s birthday. In this life, as in a few previous, Minghao is an avid lover of photography and of wine — two things which, generally, should be meaningless to vampires but ironically make him feel more alive — and so he forces Junhui to a horrifically expensive restaurant on the top floor of a glittering building where he can look out over Seoul and beyond, and sip as much red wine as he pleases until Jun, the toddler that he is, inevitably whines enough that they go home.

Surrounded by all the glamour of this lifestyle, this place; the velvet cushions and silk dresses, the marble floors and city like a jewelry case, you should really not stand out as much as you do. And yet, as you pour Minghao his first glass of wine, he can’t help but be captivated by you. Jun notices, inevitably, even though Minghao’s expression remains as calculatedly cool as ever whilst he gently swirls the wine in his glass. 

“It’s his birthday,” Junhui pretends to whisper to you. Minghao is about to scold him, but all words leave him when you suddenly break into a lovely, bashful grin, and bow your head to him.

“Happy birthday.” Your voice is soft, softer than the velvet of the seat he’s sitting on. He can’t even manage to thank you before you’re weaving silently back to your post, his eyes tracing your movements carefully. He forgets all about the wine he had been so excited for, certain that if he still had a heartbeat it would be erratic.

“She’s cute.” Minghao turns to look at Jun, who’s staring at him with an overly-pleased grin and his chin propped in his hand. “I told you it was a good idea to go out for your birthday.”

Through the course of the evening, you come by many times to refill his glass. Other patrons come and go, and Minghao watches the city go through its varying stages of nightlife. 

It’s late into the night, far too late for you to still be working he feels, when you appear at the table not with his purchased bottle of wine, but with a small, decadent chocolate torte with a single tiny candle in the center of it. Jun has the biggest smile on his face, while Minghao can barely manage to remember to blink.

“I couldn’t find anymore candles,” you apologize, taking a lighter from your pocket and lighting the candle. You bow down, eye level with Minghao as the candlelight reflects in your irises. “But one is enough to make a wish, right?”

Jun is the one who begins singing from behind you, and you join in with a soft, imperfect lilt. He only takes his eyes off of you once he closes them to blow the candle out. You place the cake down on his table and give him a playful grin.

“Well, what did you wish for?” You ask, pulling the candle out of the cake.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a secret?” Minghao asks.

“It’s not like I’d have anyone to tell, anyways,” you retort. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“Minghao,” he replies, far too quickly. Your expression shows your surprise for only a moment before you’re smiling at him again, your gaze warm. “Xu Minghao.”

“L/N Y/N,” you say, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Minghao traces your movements, baffled by how entranced you have him with even the simplest, most mundane of tasks when he hardly knows you—

“And I’m Jun!” 

Although Minghao’s gaze is sharp when he turns it to the vampire, neither you nor Junhui look in the slightest bit fazed to have ruined his concentration. At that point, you politely excuse yourself, and Minghao doesn’t see you for the rest of his evening out.

That morning, as the sun rises over Seoul, Minghao finds himself painting for the first time in well over a decade. He hasn’t been a painter since two ‘lives’ ago, when he created art under a pseudonym. This one, however, he doesn’t intend to sell.

Minghao keeps seeing you after that, and while Jun and Dokyeom and a few of his other clan-mates like to tease that it’s fate, he still refuses to believe it. He wonders if he’s subconsciously seeking you out, hunting down that feeling he’d gotten the first night — a feeling that made him almost believe he was human again, if only for a moment.

It’s foolish, fanciful, and far too heavy a burden to place on you. And yet every time he sees you, no matter how cold he must come across, you have a smile to greet him with. 

It’s springtime, and he sees you out at a local market buying flowers. He has every intention to pass by you, but you notice him before he can, flashing him a blinding grin that stops him in his tracks. 

“Xu Minghao,” you greet. He shakes his head, laughing as he looks down at you. Every time he sees you, it feels like the first time — and he treats it as the last.

“It’s been months,” he says. “You can just call me Minghao.” You tap a finger to your chin, as if deep in thought, before shaking your head.

“No. Xu Minghao has a nice ring to it. I like saying it.” You adjust the canvas bag hanging off your shoulder, tucking the bouquet of flowers you’d just purchased under your arm.

“Walk with me?” you ask. You tilt your head in the direction of the street and Minghao wishes he could freeze time as the sunlight catches in your eyes, the breeze gently tugging strands of hair from your face. Your skin looks warm, and carried on the breeze is the unparalleled sweet scent of your blood. Minghao agrees, although he knows he shouldn’t. The more time he spends with you, the more attached he’ll become, even if he has every intention of maintaining distance.

He isn’t foolish enough to believe in fate, or destiny — but sometimes he truly wishes he was, because then he could imagine a happy ending for the two of you. For himself.

It all truly goes to shit when he asks you to model for him. Nothing special, really, he assures you, because you look horribly nervous when he brings it up. He tells you he couldn’t imagine photographing anyone else for his next project, and while he can tell that you think he’s just buttering you up he’s never meant any words more in his life. 

And so he dooms himself. He spends hours just staring at your face, your body, directing you; driving you to locations, editing the photos down to the minutest detail until he’s sure he could trace your face in his dreams if he had them. Instead, he stays up all night painting you again, and again, and again, driven mad by his own muse and the desire to expel it before it becomes dangerous.

You don’t know what he is, but he does, and the ache he has at the thought of telling you outweighs the ache at the thought of losing you, although they’ve been inching nearer equality every day. His foolish project doesn’t quell his urge to see you, merely heightens it, until he’s spending nearly every free moment he has trying to communicate with you, or looking at your photos or likenesses in his studio. 

It makes him wonder, of course, what his point is with all this. Even if he loves you, he can’t have you. He knows it better than anyone ever can or ever will, because he certainly has no intentions of forcing you into immortality at his side. Some people may think it’s worth it — given the option even you might, but it isn’t a subject he’s willing to broach or a risk he’s willing to take, no matter how precious you’re becoming to him.

So he comes to a conclusion which may seem heartless and unorthodox to most, but being a vampire he determines it’s pretty much on-brand.

The exhibition is as much of a success as Minghao hoped it would be, even though he isn’t technically involved. There’s a private level above the gallery which Minghao requested be kept dark, and so he slinks around like the creature of the night he is, watching as the crowds gaze at all the photos of you he’d spent hours taking and editing and arranging. He stands in the corner, watching the door, waiting—

You appear, looking more beautiful than ever. As you look around the room, Minghao can’t help but smile at the adorable mix of bashful and proud that you present in your body language, a blush rising on your cheeks and a grin tugging at your lips. He can tell you’re looking for him as your eyes sweep uncertainly over the crowd. He wants nothing more than to go down and sweep you off your feet, show you off to everyone in the room especially with how dazzling you look. It hurts him to wonder if you dressed up just for him, and he shoots down the thought as you begin to move towards the center of the room where the one piece of text has been put up in simple, unassuming text:

you make me look at the moon and pray that you’ll look at me

One benefit of being a vampire is superhuman sight. Every nuance of your expression is as clear to him from here as if he were standing in front of you. He watches as you look around for him once more, somewhat more frantically this time. Minghao feels a pit forming in his stomach as he watches you.

“Minghao,” Jun calls softly, emerging from the darkness behind Minghao. He doesn’t turn until Jun’s hand comes to land on his shoulder, at which point the other vampire gives him a concerned look. 

“Are you sure about this?” Minghao notices how the shadows cling to his friend’s face as he asks that question, and he can’t help but feel that old bitterness rising up in him at the sight. Who was he to tether you to him? What could he offer you but a cold, empty space where a heart once resided and a constant need to run? Minghao casts one last look at you, catching you gazing in awe at the largest photograph of yourself in the gallery, the one that inspired his poem, of you standing on the fire escape of his studio and gazing up at the full moon. Your skin is washed silver, almost white, your eyes catching the light like twin stars. A bitter laugh creeps up his throat.

“Yes,” he replies, turning away from the gallery scene. “There’s no other way.” With that, Minghao steps into the inky darkness and disappears down the backstairs, leaving Jun to watch you, melancholy, for a moment before he follows his clan-mate. 

Faking one’s death is very strange, and Minghao has learned that it does not get less strange with time or practice. If anything, it gets stranger as the lives pile up and one finds they can’t help but run parallel in each one. So many things remain the same: looks, interests, hobbies, clans.

And then so much must be left behind.

Seungcheol raps gently on the edge of Minghao’s doorframe. The Chinese vampire doesn’t grant him permission to enter, doesn’t need to, simply continues gazing out the window and gently swirling the wine in his glass as he’s been doing for the past hour. 

“Are you all packed, Minghao?” His clan leader asks, and Minghao simply murmurs in the affirmative. 

“Finish that up then. We need to get going soon.” With that, Seungcheol slips away down the hall, likely to get the rest of the clan together. Minghao looks at the wine remaining in his glass and downs it all in one gulp, wincing slightly at the bitter burn at the back of his throat. He stands from his chair, nudges his rolling suitcase so it bumps against the doorframe. A cluster of clouds block out the moon, and Minghao draws the curtains shut, walking across his room to join his luggage in the hallway. He turns back to look at his room one last time, and smiles half-wistful and half-bitter at the one object remaining, gently catching the dim light from the hall.

In his next life, he’s decided, he won’t have any need for photography. He closes the door, and disappears.

#the8 imagines #the8 scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen texts #kpop fanfiction #kpop texts #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #My writing