#but then she got a follow up letter about how her actions are pretty much gonna save millions of lives with the research she saved

[ramblingoak]

lazy makeouts with terzo pretty please 💜💜

Alright my friend, here's a little follow up to One Dance so please enjoy some more Regency!Terzo.

The Perfect Afternoon ~ regency!Terzo x female reader

Thank you to @writingjourney for the amazing regency!Terzo art 💙

(Duca (Duke) Terzo, alternate universe, nsfw, 18+ only mdni, 2k words)

~ After the dance you impatiently wait to hear from Duca Terzo ~

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

You never wanted to stop kissing Terzo Emeritus.

It had been all you had been able to think about since the night of the dance.  His plush lips moving against your own…the way his tongue teased yours…how he cradled your head in his hands…there were so many things that made the experience run over and over again in your mind.  You wanted to kiss him again, you needed to in fact.  It had actually been frustrating with how he seemed to suddenly remember how to be a gentleman and had insisted on bringing you back inside to the party.

All eyes had been on you both when you entered the dance floor together once more.  The music that started was much more lively than the last tune and you found yourself quickly moving around the floor, changing partners as the song went on.  No matter how far you found yourself from Terzo though your eyes always found each other.  Having that mismatched gaze of his focused on you regardless of who he was dancing with was intense and thrilling.  It was also starting to catch the attention of many of the other people around you and unfortunately this included your mother.

“How was dancing with the Duca?”

Her voice startled you out of your thoughts and you turned from the carriage’s window to look at her. 

“Oh!  It was fine.  He’s a good dancer.”  You fiddled with your gloves for a moment, wondering what else to say.  “If you, well if you like that sort of thing.”

“Dancing?  Or dancing with Duca Terzo?”

“Either, I suppose.  He’s not the worst dance partner I’ve ever had.”

A yawn escaped you and you hastily covered your mouth.  Hopefully that would be the end of her interrogation on the matter, you were too tired to have any sort of conversation, let alone one about your interactions with Terzo that night.

“Well I shouldn’t think so.  Especially since you danced with him six times.”

“Mother.”

“Hush now, no need to be defensive about it.  Mothers are observant creatures.”

“There’s nothing to observe!  You were the one that told me to dance with him in the first place.”

She didn’t answer you for a spell, her eyes were closed as she rested against the back of the seat.  You were still nearly an hour’s ride away from home and the sun was already peeking out over the horizon.  Thinking she had maybe fallen asleep you decided to follow her lead and leaned your head back.  Sleep had almost claimed you before her voice startled you awake.

“I know darling and I’m happy you did.”  The air between you was thick and you knew, you just knew, she was going to say something else.  “But I only asked you for one.”

Once you arrived home you hid yourself away in your room for a few days.  The last thing you wanted to see was the smug face of your mother.  Even your little sister had become insufferable.  Her mood quickly changed from irritation over not being able to attend the dance to teasing you about the Duca every chance she got.  The only person on your side was your father, but even he seemed to be giving you more thoughtful looks than usual.  

However the irritation at your family’s behavior quickly turned into a familiar feeling: irritation at Terzo.  You would think after his words to you on the patio, particularly after all the kissing, that he would have sent you something by now.  Perhaps a letter or a gift of some kind.  Maybe even an invitation to join him in town for an afternoon.  Instead you received nothing for nearly two weeks.  The silence was making you feel like his words and actions towards you were nothing more than a way to amuse himself the night of the dance.  You quickly went back to having an ill opinion of him and had already decided that he could definitely keep his false promises and his stupid lips to himself next time.

Of course that’s when he showed up at your doorstep.

“Dolcezza!  Mio amore you are even more beautiful than I remember.”  It wasn’t until he had taken your hand and nearly kissed your knuckles before the surprise at seeing him at your home faded.  You quickly snatched your hand from him and moved to close the door but he shoved his boot in the way.  “Ai!  What have I done now?”

“Nothing, you’ve done nothing Duca.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

“That is what’s the matter!  You haven’t bothered to try and contact me since the dance.”

He winced and nervously reached up to smooth some of his hair back.  You huffed when he easily pushed the door open more and you briefly looked him over.  His boots and pants were splattered with a bit of mud so he must have ridden over instead of taking a carriage.  There was a basket in his other hand and he quickly set it down at his feet before reaching out to take both of yours in his.

“Mi dispiace, dolcezza.  You’re right.  I should have come by sooner.”  This time you let him press gentle kisses against both of your knuckles.  “But I am here today and insist on taking you for a picnic, what do you say?”

“A picnic?”

“Si, we can spread a blanket out under a tree and enjoy each other’s company.”

You glanced from his face to the basket, your ire towards him quickly fading.  A picnic with Terzo did sound lovely, really spending time with him in any capacity sounded lovely.  He really was too charming for his own good.

“I’ll need to ask my mother at least, father is in town on business.”

On cue your mother swept into the entranceway, her timing too perfect to be a coincidence.  When you looked behind her you could see your sister’s head duck quickly back behind the sitting room door.  

“Duca Terzo!  It is a delight to see you as always!”

“No no, the pleasure is all mine and can I say you look lovelier than ever.”

The giggle your mother let out rivaled those of your sister and you rolled your eyes.  You needed to get Terzo out of here before she spent the afternoon fawning over him.

“Mother, is it alright if I go with the Duca on a picnic?”

“Of course it is!  Don’t be silly.”  She reached out and fussed with your hair for a moment before you pulled away.  “You two take your time and enjoy the afternoon.”

You weren’t sure you wanted to live in a world where you had to deal with smug smiles from your mother and Terzo, but you let her herd you and the Duca out of the house and into the sunshine.  Terzo took your hand without a word and led you swiftly away from your front door.  He must have already picked out a spot so you just quietly let him pull you along for a good half hour before you found yourself under the shade of the immense oak tree near the edge of your property. 

“Terzo, you better have something good in that bask–”  With a quick tug he had yanked you against his chest and was kissing you.  The basket hit the grass with a soft thump and then his gloved hand rested on your cheek.  Just when you had gotten used to the taste of his paint again he pulled away and you found yourself lazily gazing into his eyes.  “Just as good as I remembered.”

His grin at the blush you could feel spreading on your cheeks made you wish you had your own paint to wear, so instead you let your head fall to his chest.  The steady beat of his heart under your ear was strong even through the layers of his clothes.  With his arms slowly slipping around you and the quiet atmosphere under the shade of the tree it felt like you were both in a world of your own.  His heartbeat nearly lulled you to sleep before your stomach abruptly rumbled and you looked up to give him a sheepish smile.

“Let’s see what’s in this basket of yours.”

“Uh, dolcezza, about that…”  

You pulled away and knelt down in the soft grass, there was a deep purple blanket resting on top and you almost regretted having to lay it out on the ground.  It was probably worth more than all your dresses combined.  When you lifted it up and placed it down your mouth fell open at what was under the blanket: nothing.

“Terzo, where is the food?”  He didn’t answer, instead grabbing the blanket and quickly shaking it out to spread across the grass.  Terzo glanced at you, but quickly looked away at the force of your glare.  Instead he pulled his jacket off and tossed it across a low hanging tree limb before laying out across the blanket.  “Terzo!”

“Do we really need food?  Can’t we just have a nice, quiet picnic together?”

“No, we can’t have a damned picnic because a picnic implies there’s food to eat!”

“You know dolcezza, in a perfect world you could subsist on my kisses alone.” 

Throwing the basket at him wasn’t very ladylike, but you did it anyway.  As he swore in Italian you stepped onto the blanket and loomed over him with your arms crossed.  

“You are unbelievable.”  

Terzo remained quiet, blinking up at you for a moment before reaching a hand up for yours.  Reluctantly you grasped it, prepared to help him up, but instead you found yourself pulled down to the blanket.  You landed across him with a yelp, Terzo grunting as your elbow connected with his stomach.  He quickly settled you more comfortably against his side, laughing as you growled at him.  Once more you found yourself laying your head on his chest with his heartbeat under your ear and you huffed, deciding to just let yourself relax.

“There now, this isn’t so bad, eh?”

“Please stop talking.”

His chest vibrated under you as he chuckled, but otherwise he stayed quiet.  You rested a hand next to your head, smiling when he quickly took it in his own and brought it up to kiss your palm.  The wind rustled the leaves around you and you could faintly hear some ducks splashing in the creek that ran nearby.  You didn't want the afternoon to end, the only thing missing was some food and perhaps some more kisses.  At least one of those would be easy to fix.

You moved your head and rested your chin over his heart to look up at him.  His eyes were already watching you with a lazy smile on his face.  You couldn’t help but glance at his lips and his smile quickly turned smug.  Before you had a chance to roll your eyes he pulled you a little further up his body so your faces were level.  With gentle fingers he tucked a few errant strands of hair behind your ear and then he was finally leaning in to kiss you.

There was no hurry in either of your movements, your lips slowly moving against his.  He placed both of his arms around you to hold you tightly against his body and you let a hand rest on his chest.  When his teeth lightly nipped at your bottom lip you obediently opened your mouth, moaning quietly when his tongue slipped inside.  You did your best to match his movements, letting your lips and tongue move on instinct.  Despite this being only the third time you had kissed each other it felt like you had been doing this forever.

That thought had you leaning deeper into the kiss, lazy movements becoming more passionate and deliberate.  Under your hand his heart started beating faster, your own quickening as well.  Everything was perfect and you hoped this was the first of many picnics you would get to share with the Duca.

But maybe next time he could bring some food.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

my masterlist

my ao3

#my fics #my writing #regency terzo #because why not #terzo x female reader #papa emeritus iii x female reader #the band ghost fanfiction #terzo fanfiction #papa emeritus iii fanfiction #terzo #papa emeritus x reader #ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfic #terzo fanfic #papa emeritus iii fanfic

[cuubism]

In Waking Dreams

Part 1 || AO3

----

Hob Gadling was halfway through his third drunken karaoke rendition of “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” when he learned that he had a husband.

It came in the form of what Hob could only describe as a ransom letter, passed to him by the bartender as Hob paused mid-song to take a swaying, unsteady breath.

God, seven drinks was too many. Way too many. Hob couldn’t die, but he was pretty sure he could still get alcohol poisoning.

The song’s backing track continued on behind him, a grating bass line to the melody of his self-pity, as he read the letter with glazed eyes. The words, pasted together from magazine cutouts – Christ, was he in a cheesy action film or what? – swirled in whiskey-laced currents, but Hob managed to make it out.

heLLo ur Husband is In a GlasS JaR in Some Guy’S BaSeMEnt plS geT hIM out i cant taKE the mopiNG ANYmore -- A concerNed SisteR

What in the ever-loving fuck?

“Hey,” Hob said to the bartender, mouth uncomfortably tacky around the word. He really should swear off drinking when he was feeling morose. “Who left this?”

The bartender shrugged, already shaking another martini. The clinking ice met the ending chords of the song and set Hob’s head to pounding. “Some lady.”

Helpful. “She still here?”

“Nope.”

Hob let out a long, arduous sigh. So much for that.

He dropped his karaoke mic onto the stage with a clank and got up from his stool, letter in hand. “That’s it for me, then,” he said, not that anyone was listening. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Hopefully not,” grumbled the bartender, but Hob waved him off.

Outside, the air was cool and crisp, nudging away the haziest edge of Hob’s intoxication. He stumbled towards home, taking deep, settling breaths of the night.

The letter crinkled in his hand. Hob looked at it again, under the moonlight this time. It could just be a very strange prank. Hob didn’t have a husband, after all. Technically, no men had husbands, but he’d known more than a few who’d considered each other as such, so he wouldn’t get too pressed about the details.

Also, a jar? A JAR?

Really, this woman should go to the police if she thought her brother had been kidnapped and was being held in a basement somewhere. The least helpful thing she could do was to give a vague letter to Hob, who knew neither who this brother was, what was meant by jar, nor whose basement it was supposedly in.

Except…

No. That was stupid. Hob was drunk, not completely insane. There was zero chance this was about some guy Hob’s delirious and probably lonely brain had dreamed up. Zero. None. Dreams didn’t just… walk into the waking world.

Except.

There was the small matter of Hob being kind of…

Immortal.

Always threw a bit of a wrench in his ‘reality follows such-and-such rules’ monologues, that. It was kind of hard to make declarative statements about how things should be when one was violating several natural laws just by walking around every day.

And Hob’s Dream… he hadn’t seen him in a while, had he?

“Where’ve you gone?” he murmured, looking back down at the strange letter. “Stuck in a jar somewhere, love?”

Then he shook himself, snorting. Christ, he really was drunk, wasn’t he?

He continued on home, already anticipating tomorrow morning’s brutal hangover.

He tucked the letter into his pocket.

----

It was a quiet ceremony. Incense hung heavy in the chapel, candlelight flickering over the handful of guests arrayed in the pews. Sunlight streamed in from high stained-glass windows.

Hob stood at the altar, silk robe slipping over his shoulders. Waiting.

A man stepped up beside him, giving him a quizzical look. Hob wasn’t sure what that look was for. This was who he’d been waiting for, wasn’t he?

“You’ve drawn me into your dream,” said the man, a curious tilt to his head, intrigue in his voice. “How interesting.”  

“You’re my dream,” Hob told him, and got a tiny, startled smile in return.

“How interesting,” repeated his Dream.

Later, Hob would wonder about so much of it. The fact that he’d dreamed himself into a wedding. The fact that his fiancé was a man. Hell, the silk – Lord knew he couldn’t afford it in reality. But, in the moment—

Hob and his betrothed stood face-to-face, hands lightly clasped. Past Hob’s field of vision, an officiant read out the marriage rites.

“Last chance to back out,” Hob teased his fiancé.

His Dream looked around at the chapel, the officiant, up at the ceiling, as if wondering how the surroundings had come to be. Then he looked back at Hob, giving his hands a tiny squeeze. “This is your dream, isn’t it?”

“Our dream,” Hob corrected. “Marriage isn’t just a one-sided thing, you know.”

“Hmmm.” His Dream’s eyes were like tiny stars. “You are a strange man, Robert Gadling.”

“Hob.”

“Hob,” he agreed. Then, strangely tentative, “…Husband?”

Hob couldn’t help his broad grin. “They haven’t finished reading the rites, love.”

His Dream chuckled. “They have,” he said. And they had.

Hob leaned in and gave him the softest kiss on his lips. His Dream was stiff at first, surprised to be kissed, but then his lips softened. He let Hob cradle his face in one hand and draw him in closer, pressing their foreheads together when they parted on a breath.

Hob laughed. “Husband,” he said, and got an answering smile.

----

The morning brought a full-body ache and a desperate need for coffee.

Hob stumbled into the kitchen, switching on the radio to catch up on news while his coffee brewed. He didn’t know why he bothered. Things had been shaky for so long now that sometimes it felt like they’d never stabilize.

Usually, Hob was pretty decent at looking on the bright side of things. Appreciating the coffee in the aftermath of the air raids, and so on.

But this century…

Well. He hadn’t been sleeping very well, for a start, and that never helped anything.

He turned the station to music, and sat down at the table with his coffee. He'd meant to open the book he’d been reading, a romance novel of all things, but found himself looking at that strange letter, instead.

In the daylight, the absurdity of it fell away, leaving only a more concerning message:

Your husband is trapped.

Hob worried at his lower lip. “Dream guy,” he murmured to himself, “now would be a great time to show up again.”

When had Hob last dreamt of him? It had been… longer than he’d thought, he now realized. He didn’t think he’d had a proper dream about his Dream since near the turn of the century. Occasionally, he’d have dreams that were more memories of things he and his… dream husband had already experienced. Like repeats of their wedding. But that was different; Hob could always tell when his Dream was really there with him.

Which was… a strange thing to think about a figment of his imagination.

He ran his thumb over the jagged edges of the pasted-on magazine letters. It really was like a movie ransom note. Begging for a life.

Stupid as it seemed, Hob couldn’t let it go. And it was better to try, and end up looking incredibly stupid, than it was to ignore it and later learn that his dream husband was real and Hob had left him stuck in a jar. Which, the more times he thought it, sounded less ridiculous and more horrifying.

I’m coming, he thought, hoping his Dream could hear it. If you’re out there, I’m coming.

There was a problem with this plan, though.

Hob had absolutely no clue how to find his husband.

----

The landscape was cracked and broken, an endless expanse of black lava fields, shattered mountains sticking up in jagged spikes, empty riverbeds curving into the distance. It looked nuclear. It looked long abandoned.

Hob picked his way across the rock, black sand scuffing the soles of his boots. He looked up at the grey, smoky sky, wondering just what was so familiar about the dreamscape. A relic of the war – wars – stowed away by his subconscious?

He knew it was a dreamscape, now. Over time, his dreams had clarified, became easier to navigate. That didn’t mean it didn’t feel real, though. The cold wind raised real goosebumps along his bare arms; the sand, when he bent to touch it, was harsh and scratched his palms; the smoke prickled in the back of his throat.

Something fluttered down from the sky before him. Hob reached out and caught it.

The solitary raven feather he found in his palm was soft where the sand had been harsh. Blood clung to the shaft where it had torn from the flesh. Hob looked up, but there were no ravens to be found in the sky. Just the whistling wind, and the clouds churning overhead.

His Dream had liked to carry a raven on his shoulder. Perhaps Hob was just missing him, again.

He held the raven feather in his hand and turned to go, to see if there was anything else here but devastation.

The ground rumbled.

Hob was flung into the sand as a crack! echoed across the lava fields and a gaping crevasse opened before him. Steam lifted from it, burning his face. Don’t cross, it seemed to say. Don’t go.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Hob told the dream.

A swarm of ravens erupted from the crevasse, steam streaming from their wings, caws echoing in the air. They blew past Hob’s face like a cyclone, feathers all a-flutter. Their wings brushed his cheeks. Claws grazed his skin, but didn’t draw blood. He closed his eyes, held his breath so as not to be smothered.

Then they were gone, and so was the feather in his hand. It had left behind a pile of dark sand, softer than that on the ground. Hob tried to disperse it into the wind, but a sudden visceral aversion to doing so had him closing his fist over it instead.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” he said again. “I don’t know what you’re telling me, my Dream.”

He didn’t know why he addressed him directly when he was hardly present. Perhaps he just missed him, so much that he wished this strange and gruesome landscape was a message of some kind.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said. “You’re going to have to give me a little more to go on, if that’s really you there.”

The ground rumbled again in increased agitation, the rock below him fell away, and Hob tumbled into an infinite abyss. The knowledge that it was a dream abyss didn’t stop his breath from lurching into his throat, and he flailed for a grip somewhere above him.

The sand streamed from his grasp and was lost in the falling wind.

----

The nineteen-thirties were, quite frankly, shit.

Everyone had partied it up in the twenties, and that was all fine and well. Hob had partied it up, too, why not? Whichever year you found yourself in, you’d never see it again, would you?

Now, he couldn’t help but feel this cursed decade was some kind of recompense for all that indulgence.

Everybody was out of work. Hell, Hob was out of work, and would have been fucked if he hadn’t been like five hundred years old and thus had had plenty of time to squirrel away money. Plus, something was stirring up in Germany – nobody seemed to be paying much attention to it, but Hob had witnessed enough wars in his long life to recognize the ingredients for one, and dear God they did not need another.

So, the thirties thus far were decidedly terrible. Hob was greatly looking forward to the time when things finally tipped over for the better, whenever that was. He wasn’t confident it would be soon.

But, if he was being honest with himself, all of these growing problems paled in comparison to his personal life. If he was really being honest, it wasn’t a problem with the nineteen-thirties; Hob’s life had been steadily going downhill since around 1916 – when he’d, well, basically stopped sleeping.

Or stopped sleeping well, anyway.

As the war ended, Hob’s dreams had grown restless, shadows curling in the corners of his vision every time he closed his eyes. Where before, he’d been able to find peace in sleep, even during the most brutal of historical times, now his dreams were just chaos.

He wished he could attribute it to the war. But his terrible dreams weren’t full of young boys’ bodies broken in the trenches, or the green English fields empty of horses. Instead, they were, well—

Birds rushing through a dense forest, stripping the trees of their leaves as they went and leaving feathers behind—

Flashes of an empty altar and rotting rose petals—

A bloody hand pressed against glass—

Echoing gunfire—

Strange creatures shredding apart into dust—

Book pages fluttering to the muddy ground—

Hands, briefly holding each other—

A child’s terrified face—

A phantom press of familiar lips against his own—

Incoherent images tumbling over each other in an endless stream, straining, pounding at his mind. Hob could find no consistency or narrative to them, not even the nonsensical type of narrative common to dreams. He could make no sense of it whatsoever.

He never woke up well from those dreams. He woke up troubled, unsettled, like there was something he needed to be doing but he didn’t know what it was. He carried that feeling from his dreams and into the daylight. It trailed him like a shadow.

Hob used to love dreaming. Now, any night that he didn’t dream was a mercy.

Hob felt bad trying to get a job when there were so few available and others didn’t have five hundred years of savings to back them up. Instead, he’d set himself to trying to help other people get jobs using whatever connections he had. Admittedly, he’d let his connection with society slack a bit in the last few years – if his sleep had been bad since 1916, it had been downright atrocious since 1926 – but he was doing his best.

In reality, this effort entailed a lot of waiting around. Sending letters, waiting. Submitting documentation, waiting. Calling people, waiting for a call back. Etcetera.

In the middle of one of these days, Hob slipped into a doze at his desk. He was tired, after all. He was tired almost all of the time, nowadays. And in his dream—

His husband was sitting in the tall grass, his long coat arrayed under him as a blanket. Hob sat across from him, legs folded underneath himself. Between them was a plate of pastries that Hob had brought, because his Dream was seemingly incapable of procuring food; he never ate it unless Hob prodded him to, either.

The sun beamed down gently upon them. Insects buzzed and sang in the nearby grass, but none bit or even landed. Such were the privileges of dreaming.

His Dream gave him a tiny smile, as if Hob had dozed off and just come back to him. Hob remembered that smile. That exact smile, as a matter of fact. That exact scene. A memory, then. Not real, not really there.

Christ, Hob missed him so much. He wanted his real Dream back, not the memory-version. Not that he was entirely sure what the difference was, in a dream world. Both had been conjured by Hob’s mind. There was a difference, though. He knew there was. The more lucid, the more aware of his dreams he’d become, the more he’d known.

“My Dream,” he said anyway, as he had before. “There you are.”

“My dreamer,” replied his husband in a familiar refrain.

Hob picked up one of the pastries, a tiny strawberry Danish, and bit into it. The Danish was perfect, buttery and flaky and sweet, because of course it was. This was a dream. Hob wished, with a sudden, strange fervor, that something about it would be imperfect. A little too tart, a little too sticky. A little more real.

He held the other half of the pastry out to his Dream. Held it to his lips until he finally took the hint and let Hob slip it into his mouth, his tongue brushing Hob’s fingertips. Then Hob leaned in, rising onto his knees to get closer. He drew his Dream in with a hand on his cheek and kissed the corner of his mouth. He watched him swallow.

“You are in a good mood today,” observed his husband, voice rumbling under Hob’s hand.

“When am I not, when I’m with you?”

“Hmm. This is true.”

“You’re in a good mood,” Hob pointed out. “That’s far rarer, isn’t it?”

His Dream smiled. Hob was still close enough that their cheeks were brushing, so he could feel it. “That is even truer.”

Hob kissed his cheek, then under his ear. “You should be happier.” He amended his phrasing. “You deserve to be happier.”

“I am happy. When I am here.”

Why haven’t I seen you, then? Hob thought, but it was pointless to ask this of a memory.

Instead, he drew him down into the grass, which, being dream-grass, was unnaturally soft, like a wild blanket. Hob couldn’t help being hyperaware of how it wasn’t scratching his skin. He didn’t know why he couldn’t quite lose himself in this dream. He could not seem to let go of the fact that it was a dream, and not only that, but a memory. He couldn’t stop thinking, thinking, thinking, and remembering.

Where are you? he thought. Where are you?

“Where are you?” asked his Dream, lying beside him in the grass. There was still humor in his gaze, as if he hadn’t caught on to the depths of Hob’s troubles – but of course he hadn’t. This had all already occurred. “Your mind is in the clouds. Found a better dream?”

Hob kissed him, one hand cradling his cheek, the other sweeping through his unruly hair. His Dream hummed, satisfied.

“No such thing,” Hob said against his lips.

His Dream tangled a hand in the collar of his shirt and—

Hob startled awake to the sound of his desk phone ringing. He brushed his hair from his forehead and a line of drool from the corner of his mouth, and picked up the phone.

“‘Ello?”

He listened to his acquaintance on the other end of the line, who was trying to tell him about a job that might be open for one of Hob’s ‘clients’. Hob took this in, but most of his mind was still on the dream.

He hadn’t seen his Dream, really seen him, in so long, now. Was it his fault, somehow? Hob had dreamed him up, after all. If he’d been absent, it must be Hob’s mind failing to conjure him. Failing to find him.

These memory-dreams were almost becoming more agonizing than the chaos of his usual nights, for all that they reminded him of what he had lost.

I miss you, he thought, doubly despondent over being so distraught over a dream. Still, his Dream’s elegant face hovered in his mind. I miss you. Come back to me.

----

“Hello.”

Hob looked up. Standing in the doorway to his tiny kitchen was a thin man, finely dressed in black, his sure steps stuttering to hesitance as he hovered on the threshold. A smile broke out on Hob’s face before his mind had even caught up.

“Hello, you. God, you’re so lovely that for a moment I thought I might have just dreamt you up.”

The man – his Dream, or so Hob thought of him because having such a man must be a dream come true – let out a startled huff and sat down across from him at the kitchen table. “I had wondered how much you might remember.”

His movements were tentative, like he wasn’t yet sure of his place in Hob’s space, here, so Hob took his hand. His Dream looked down at where their skin touched, flexing his hand experimentally.

“Forget you?” Hob scoffed. Forget his own husband? Who could do that? “I could never.”

“Evidently so.”

“Never,” Hob repeated. “I believe you’re rather stuck with me now, love.”

His Dream studied him, looking for an answer to an unknown question in Hob’s eyes. “Hmmm,” he agreed at last, squeezing Hob’s hand in return. “I do believe that I am.”

----

Hob had once declared that he would never die, but it was highly likely that he did, in fact, have a death wish.

Or so his dreams seemed to be telling him.

He could not, would not, get that one dream out of his head. He was so lost in thought that he stumbled in the mud, sword clanking at his side, and would have fallen were it not for one of his mates pulling him upright with a laugh.

“Had too much to drink last night, Hob?”

Hob affected a smile. “Something like that.”

If only.

No. Something far more troubling had Hob’s mind in a haze and his feet tripping over themselves. Someone.

What in the bloody hell was he thinking about, dreaming about a man?

Generally speaking, Hob did not care much what other people did. He also could hardly be considered the arbiter of all morality, so who was he to tell other people what to do, really. However, Hob was very aware that many people did not hold this sort of live-and-let-live mentality, and that those people could get rather upset about certain things.

These were dangerous dreams to be having.

“Hob!” called his friend from up ahead. “Quit lagging behind!”

Hob supposed he was fortunate it was just dreams he was having. Not that he was necessarily opposed, the more he thought of it, but it would certainly make his life more complicated, having such a thing in the real world. More dangerous, too.

And yet, he couldn’t get his dream husband out of his head. The dark swoop of his hair over his neck. The intensity of his eyes. The curiosity he seemed to have about Hob, about the marriage Hob had unknowingly dragged him into.

Hob had kissed him, after. Not the chaste kiss at the altar. After, when they’d slipped away to the back of the church, hovering in the shadows at the base of the stained-glass mural above. Lost in the dream, he’d had no hesitance, no self-consciousness, had simply pulled his Dream closer and kissed him. Hands twisting in the lapels of his long outer coat, he had held him close and tasted his mouth, and his Dream had kissed back, dragging a moan from him with the skillful use of his tongue.

Hob hadn’t known kissing could feel like that, buoyed by the very real dream-love he held for his dream-husband. The passion this nameless, mysterious man he’d dreamt up had inspired in him.

And how real it had felt in the moment. Not only consciously, but bodily, the very real pounding of his heart and the heat under his layers of clothes, the very real wetness of his Dream’s mouth and the ache in Hob’s bones for him. He could still feel the press of his lips on his own, and touched his hand to them now, absently. He shuddered.

“Hob!” yelled his friend again. “Supper is not getting any warmer!”

“Yeah, coming,” Hob said. “I’m coming.”

Physically, he trudged on through the mud, hefting his pack higher on his shoulder. Mentally, he stayed in the shadow of the church, lost in the press of his Dream’s warm body.

Dangerous dreams, indeed.

----

There were an ungodly number of buildings in the United Kingdom that had basements.

Hob knew exactly how many now. This was, of course, assuming that the basement in question was, in fact, in the United Kingdom, and not Papua New Guinea, or somewhere.

Hob looked at his extensive list of basemented houses in dismay.

No. Fuck this. This was never going to work. It would take him years to search them all, and who knew if his Dream had that kind of time. Hob didn’t know how long he might have been imprisoned for already.

He threw the list on the floor.

Time for a different tactic.

Assuming his Dream, was, in fact, a real individual who existed in this world as well as in dreams… Hob could only assume something supernatural was afoot. Unless both he and his Dream had somehow acquired the powers of dreamsharing, such as it were.

But also, Hob was immortal. How, he still didn’t know, but he was. He had no choice but to believe in some element of the supernatural, or the divine, or the occult, or whatever it was. The idea that his Dream was some kind of supernatural figure, one that existed in dreams as well as reality, was certainly within the realm of possibility. Was likely, even, as, while it was certainly not impossible that someone would be keeping a normal human in some kind of glass prison in their basement, it seemed somewhat of a strange thing to do with a prisoner. Wouldn’t they want to hurt them, or get something from them? Torture them? Why simply leave them there, and in a glass prison, of all things, rather than just a locked room?

No, Hob was feeling more and more certain that his Dream was supernatural, in some way. It explained far more than the alternative. He pushed all the weirdness of that aside for now – there would be plenty of time to have a minor crisis about his apparent six-century-long marriage to God-knew-what later on. Right now, he had a more pressing investigation.

Who would know about a supernatural being, have the means and knowledge to trap one, and the ability to keep one for who knew how many years?

Hob knew what he had to do. Rather than searching through basements –-

-- he should be searching through occultists.

#tfw u learn the guy youve been dreaming about for 600 years and thought was just a figment of your imagination is real #and oh he's also in an orb. #hob's having a normal day #the sandman #dreamling #dreamling fic #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #bunswords #the looooooooong work in progress #but now the pressure is on to actually finish it 😔 #in waking dreams

[ghostradiodylan]

I know there has been a lot of discussion about how the Quarry characters are described, but do you think they would describe themselves any differently?

I'm so sorry Kat, I wanted to take some time to think about this and then completely forgot it was in my ask box!

This is SUCH an interesting question with lots to consider. I think this depends somewhat on who they're describing themselves to, but let's imagine it's an honest self-assessment and not, like, trying to look good on a job cover letter or college entrance essay or something like that.

Jacob - This one's tough for me because Jacob seems to sometimes believe in his own hype, but he can also see himself as kind of a loser? Like, he prances up in his undies and tells everyone "I'm here to save you!" 😂 But he also mopes and cries and has a tough time even if we don't get the 'I'm not alive, I'm nothing' sad infected boy. I think Jacob sees himself as a leader even if others don't (and some do, I mean, look at Nick). I think he'd say he's brave (and he can be! he runs off in the dark after Abi screams, for example), optimistic, fun-loving, and loyal. He might not be aware of how impulsive his actions are, though he also might be after the extra night he orchestrated goes as badly as it does.

Emma - Emma causes a lot of strife for others in this game for someone who I genuinely think means well most of the time. She's trying to manipulate her friends in ways that she believes will be good for them, but not everyone welcomes her interventions. She has a flair for the dramatic and I feel like she knows that about herself and knows that she's performing a lot of the time. I think Emma would see herself as pragmatic, goal-oriented, charming, and entertaining.

Abi - Abi's a sweet, sensitive type and she seems to know herself pretty well. She's a rule-follower and a peacemaker and while she feels awkward sometimes, I think Abi has a way of putting others at ease. I think she'd describe herself as creative, empathetic, and conscientious, but she'd also admit to being a little timid and prone to over-thinking at times.

Ryan - Ryan also sees himself as a leader, even if he sometimes has trouble getting other people on board with that view. I don't think he sees himself as a brooding loaner, though he comes off that way, but he knows he's introverted and maybe he'd call himself introspective instead. Ryan would probably see himself as humble, dependable, strong-willed, and authentic. He knows he doesn't always come across as confident, but he does stick to his guns.

Kaitlyn - To me, Kaitlyn has the least emotional development of any of the characters, and while I love what we do see of her so much, I wish we saw more of what makes her tick. Kaitlyn's a badass and she knows it, but we see glimpses of a softer side to her with Abi and Dylan that imply she's got more depth to her than she lets on. I think she'd think of herself as self-assured, level-headed, sarcastic, and (sometimes brutally) honest.

Dylan - Dylan refers to his 'blasé' persona as a 'stylish nihilist' in the cut content, but I'm not sure he totally understands what that word means. Because while Dylan can be paranoid and even a little cynical, he's also incredibly hopeful and resilient over the course of the game. I think his self-description might change a lot depending on when you ask him and what path his character takes. But as far as his core personality, I think he'd see himself as intelligent, open-minded, funny (I don't think his humor is an act, I think he just plays up that side more when he's uncomfortable), and intuitive. He's also well aware of his own insecurities. Would he admit to being a hopeless romantic too? He'd probably prefer not to, but I think he knows.

Nick - We get so little of Nick, and what we do get can be tainted a bit by the way the werewolf infection affects him, but I think Nick is very candid about the fact that he can be a bit of a follower when he's around stronger personalities. He knows he has a lot of potential, but he's not sure what he wants to do in the future. I think he'd describe himself as respectful (and he is, until the whole infection thing happens), caring, and sociable, but also unfocused or maybe even directionless.

Laura - Laura's progression over the course of the game feels kind of like if Leslie Knope became a monster-hunting vigilante. Laura seems kind of type-A and perfectionistic, like she has a whole bunch of color-coded binders at home. But she also seems to think that just because she wants something to happen (like Max going to the same grad school as her, or them getting to come to camp a night early), that it will. I think she also knows herself pretty well. Laura would say she's self-assured, ambitious, steadfast, and resilient. She might not go so far as to say headstrong, but she probably knows.

Max - Lovable Max, so silly and so sweet, but he can be a touch gloomy and pessimistic too, especially when he's been kidnapped and is dealing with a mysterious supernatural infection (hard to blame him there). Max would describe himself as easygoing (pre-canon, at least), supportive, and friendly and I think he'd absolutely also cop to being sensitive and a bit meek. He does not mind being the 'malewife' to his 'girlboss' partner at all.

#the quarry #beautiful asks from beautiful people #hacketteer headcanons #hacketteer self-descriptions #jacob custos #emma mountebank #abi blyg #ryan erzahler #kaitlyn ka #dylan lenivy #nick furcillo #laura kearney #max brinly

[db-gochifan]

GoChi Week 2023 - Day 2: Letters/Flowers

Days: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Title: The Secret Admirer Pairing: Goku/Chi-Chi; minor Bulma/Yamcha Characters: Son Goku, Chi-Chi, Bulma Briefs, Yamcha and Ox King Summary: A letter brings up the romantic side of Goku. Do not copy, repost, use it in any form or claim this work to be your own. Cross-posted on AO3

It was a typical winter day on West City. Valentine’s Day was just around the corner, which meant the halls from Orange Star High School were filled with pink and red hearts and other Valentine’s decorations. Goku sighed deeply when he got closer to his locker and saw the amount of boxes around it.

“I don’t get why you’re so annoyed with that.” Yamcha stated with a confused tone, as he tried to get near his own locker. “Most guys would love to be on your shoes right now.”

“I would gladly trade places, without even questioning it.” He opened his locker and a bunch of letters slipped down to the floor. “How the hell did these girls managed to push all these letters through my locker?!”

“You should never underestimate them. They are capable of anything.”

“Tell me about it.” Goku growled when he accidentally kicked one of the many boxes near his feet. He bent down and grabbed one that has a full-page picture of a brunette attached to it.

“So what are you going to do with all these presents?”

“Honestly? I have no idea.” He glanced at Yamcha and couldn’t help but laugh when he noticed he was nearly drooling at the photo. “Could you be less obvious?”

“What?” The long-haired man blinked a few times and shook his head.

“We were close to getting drowned here.” He teased and then handed the box to his friend. “Do you want to keep this one? Maybe you can get lucky.”

“You don’t want it?”

Just as Goku was about to answer, his eyes fell on a brunette girl walking down the hall. She was so distracted talking to Bulma that she wasn’t paying attention to anything or anyone else. His neck could have easily been broken due to how much it followed her around.

“Earth to Goku.” Yamcha waved his hand in front of his friend’s eyes, to get his attention.

“What?” The spiky haired man shook his head slightly. “Do you really want it? I mean…”

He glanced at the direction the two girls had gone and Yamcha followed him suit.

“Yeah, it’s better not to. Last thing I want is to piss Bulma off. It can often get pretty bad.”

“That’s true.”

****

“I can’t believe you’re not gonna give to him.” Bulma stated with astonishment as she and Chi-Chi headed to their class.

“Believe it or not, I’m not.”

“I don’t get it, you wrote it for nothing?”

“Did you see how many things there were in front of his locker? I don’t stand a chance.”

“Are you kidding me?” She shouted. “I guarantee the other girls don’t come anywhere near you.”

“I feel flattered, but I still don’t believe it.”

“Well, you should. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you’re distracted.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m still not giving it to him.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want.”

“It is.” Chi-Chi ended the conversation and the two girls headed to their seats in silence. ****

Bulma waited hidden for Chi-Chi to leave the dressing room after changing into her fighting outfit later that day. She sneaked in very slowly and went through her friend’s stuff to get the letter.

“I’m sorry, Chi-Chi. But you’ll thank me later.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Yamcha asked for what seemed to be the millionth time.

“Yes, I ‘m sure.” She replied firmly and with some annoyance. “If you don’t want to help me, that’s fine. But I can’t just stand here and do nothing to help my friend.”

“What happens when she finds out? She’s gonna be really pissed.”

“I can deal with it when the time comes. For now, let’s just put our plan into action.”

“Fine.”

“I knew you’d be part of this plan!” The bluenette exclaimed with excitement and threw her hands around his neck. “Before we know it, Goku and Chi-Chi will be in each other’s arms.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Honey, I always am.” She said, full of confidence.

****

Chi-Chi was feeling rather uncomfortable with so many guys looking at her during martial arts class. She wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Much to her surprise, someone else seemed to have noticed her discomfort too.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“Huh?” She looked at him with her eyebrows raised. “Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine. I just don’t like being the center of the attention like this. For some reason, guys look down on women being fighters. Or they think it’s sexy, which is kinda disgusting in my opinion.”

“Hey, leave me out of this.”

“So you don’t think it’s sexy?”

Goku couldn’t help but think her tone almost sounded a little disappointed. “No, that’s not what I meant. Of course I think it’s… anyway, guys may look down on women who fight, but not me. I actually think it’s great.”

“Do you really?” Her face beamed in happiness after hearing what he said.

He couldn’t help but think she looked cute when she smiled like that. He automatically smiled back at her.

“Yes, I really do. Would you feel better if I told these guys to stop looking at you? Or I can just beat them up if you want.”

“It’s not necessary to beat them up.” She put her hands up between them, almost close to his chest. “Just telling them will be enough.”

“Alright.” He was slightly disappointed with her request, but tried his very best to hide it.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

****

Goku and Yamcha made their way to the changing rooms after taking shower when martial arts classes were over for the day. The latter was feeling a little nervous about the letter his friend was about to find. He still didn’t have a good feeling about this.

“Some nice training today, huh?” The spiky-haired brunette asked while he dried his hair with a white towel.

“It surely was.” The other brunette tried to push his worries away and replied in the coolest tone possible. “Once again you couldn’t stay away from Chi-Chi.”

Goku couldn’t help but grin when he was nudged on the ribs by his friend. “You know me.”

“I sure do.” Yamcha very discreetly looked over his shoulder to see what his fellow martial arts friend was doing. He put on his best fake surprised face. “What’s this?”

“It’s a letter.” Goku flipped it around, looking for any signs that could tell him who it was from, but he couldn’t find anything.

“You don’t know who sent it?”

“No, there’s nothing in the envelope.” He didn’t bother hiding his frustration, though he was also full of hope it would be from Chi-Chi.

“So you got yourself a secret admirer, huh?”

“That seems like it.” With a sigh, he put the letter in his bag, flinging it on his shoulders right after. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Yamcha quickly followed him out of the changing rooms. “I’m surprised you didn’t open the letter right away. It almost seemed like you weren’t too thrilled about it.”

“It’s probably from one of these girls who are desperately to have a boyfriend.” Goku shook his head and shrugged, keeping a very cool tone as he spoke. “I will open it when I get home.”

“I see.” He pressed his lips together. “Either way, I’m curious to know what you will think about it.”

“Really?” He spiky-haired boy looked at him with his eyebrows raised. “Why is that?”

“For no reason.” Yamcha began to panic and his eyes widened when he realized he almost gave himself and Bulma away. “I just want to know what’s in the letter.”

“Alright, I guess.”

****

Goku was lying on his bed chilling and staring at the ceiling when he remembered the letter was still in his bag. He jumped out of his bed and ran to it, returning to his previous position as soon as he grabbed the envelope. He carefully tore it open, so he wouldn’t accidentally rip the paper inside. Then he unfolded the paper and began to read its content. He didn’t remember seeing that handwriting anywhere before, but his heart still started beating faster on his chest. He couldn’t tell whether it was his wishful thinking or something else, but he was sure that handwriting belonged to the girl he had been crushing – sometimes not so subtly – for quite a while.

Hi, Goku!

I hope you forgive me for writing this letter, but I couldn’t find any other way to say what I wanted. In person would be an option, but I’m just not brave enough to do it. Anyway, maybe I should go straight to the point. Okay, so… I’ve been observing you these past few days… maybe admiring would be a more suitable word. Honestly, I don’t know what I intended to do with this letter… maybe just let you know I admire you? Well, either way, I hope you don’t feel embarrassed with it and my confused thoughts. I surely do, now that I’m reading it.

I guess I’ll see you around.

Your secret admirer.

Goku had a huge grin on his face by the time he finished reading the small confessional letter. But he didn’t find it embarrassing in the slightest. It was the opposite actually. He found it sweet. He folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. When he was about to put it away in a drawer, the scent of lilies invaded his nostrils and he shivered slightly. If there was any doubt Chi-Chi had written that letter, it was just gone. For the second time in less than fifteen minutes, Goku jumped out of his bed. This time, however, he rushed out of his house.

****

Chi-Chi was about to leave for school that morning. She yelled bye to her father and opened the front door of her house. Her eyes immediately fell on a single flower lying right in front of it. She bent down and picked it up, silently looking to her right and to her left for someone or something that could tell her who had put it there. But there was nothing.

“Chi-Chi?” The Ox King, her father, walked into the kitchen and saw her frozen on her spot. “Is something wrong?”

“Someone left a lily here.” She walked in again, grabbing a glass and filling it with water for the flower.

“A flower?” He asked while she turned around and put the glass in the center of their table. “It was just there?”

“That’s right.” Chi-Chi nodded and looked at the flower for a few more seconds before shaking her head and smiling. “Well, I should go to school or I’ll be late.”

“Alright. Have a good day, darling.”

“You too, dad.”

****

Chi-Chi was taken aback when she stopped in front of her locker and found another lily attached to its lock. She had just grabbed it when Bulma stopped beside her.

“Well, well, looks like someone’s got a secret admirer.”

“I’m sure that was an accident. Someone must have confused someone else’s locker with mine.”

“Do you really think so low of yourself? Why is it so hard for you to accept someone may have a crush on you?”

“That’s not…” She pressed her lips together, deciding not to argue with her friend. She may have a point. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I am.” Bulma bragged with a grin. “And looks like this person actually knows some of your tastes. Not everyone has lilies as their favorite flower.”

“It looks like it.” The brunette bit her lower lip as she placed the flower on her locker. She could only hope it wouldn’t die before she went home.

“Don’t you wanna know who sent it?”

“Of course I do, but apparently they don’t share the same thought.”

There was a bitter tone in Chi-Chi’s voice; almost like she was disappointed for some reason, but she couldn’t understand why. Or maybe she just didn’t want to admit it.

“It’s possible, but I think we both know who put it here.”

“And also who had left another one at my door earlier.”

“What?” Bulma asked, visibly surprised.

“I came across another lily when I left for school this morning. Whoever left it must know where I live.”

“That’s so sweet!”

“More like creepy.”

“Why must you ruin everything?”

“Come on, you have to admit it was a little creepy.”

“Well…” The blue haired girl had to agree with her friend. “So what are you going to do now?”

“Honestly? I have no idea.” Chi-Chi looked at her. “Wait and see if this boy will reveal himself eventually, I guess.”

****

“Why are there so many petals near your locker?” Yamcha couldn’t take his eyes off the floor while he and Goku went to grab their things to go home after class.

Goku didn’t say anything, he simply opened his own locker and showed him the bouquet of lilies inside it.

“What the…? Did you receive them from a girl?”

“Nope, I’m actually sending them to one.”

“Chi-Chi…” He said after he fully understood the situation. “What did she say about it?”

“Nothing yet. I didn’t tell her they were from mine, so she doesn’t know. At least I don’t think she does.”

“Chi-Chi is smart, she will figure out. If she hadn’t already.”

“That’s true.”

“So what are you going to do now?”

“Now it’s time to put the final part of my plan into action.”

****

Goku felt his heart pounding hard on his chest and began to get nervous with everyone glancing at the bouquet of flowers in his hand. He noticed a group of girls standing not far from her, undoubtedly wanting to know who was the lucky girl that would get the lilies. He prayed Chi-Chi didn’t take too long to walk out of school or that she was still inside. Otherwise he would make a fool out of himself.

The single lily swung smoothly under Chi-Chi’s grasp as she and Bulma left the school building and headed towards the exit. Her heart skipped a beat when she found another one in their path and she knelt down to pick it up.

“Whoever this guy is, he’s really good.” Bulma commented when her friend returned to her previous position.

“Maybe.” She couldn’t help but smell it. “I’m surprised no one took it, to be honest.”

“I guess not everyone likes lilies.”

“Yeah, that may be it.”

For some reason, Chi-Chi felt her heart racing as they got near the gate. She noticed there were more people around than usual that day, clearly waiting to see how things would unfold. As soon as she crossed the gate, she saw Goku from the corner of her eyes, standing on her left.

“Goku.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she watched him get near her. “So it was you all along.”

“That’s right.” He gave her one of his signature smiles and handed her the bouquet. “I heard lily is your favorite flower.”

“It is.” She smiled kindly and was surprised to see he had offered her his arm.

“May I take a beautiful girl home today?”

Chi-Chi felt her cheeks blush slightly, but still linked her free arm with his.

#GochiWeek23 #GoChi #Dragon Ball #DB #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Son Goku #Goku #Chi-Chi #Bulma Briefs #Bulma #Yamcha #YamBul #Ox King

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 34

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 2505

Warnings: Talk of suicide, swearing

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Innocent Cry Pretty

****

Ghost

Rooster had been more than ready to follow Hangman and punch him for what he'd said to Ghost and Juliette; the latter barely stopped him, threatening him with staying over at her mother's house for the night if he followed through with his desire. Rooster reluctantly refrained from going after Hangman.

Ghost convinced the couple she would be okay, that she'd expected him to retaliate against her for what he'd revealed last night. What she hadn't expected was for him to bring up her videos. She'd been so careful not to show her face, to blur the background to hide any notable features of her room, to hide her dog tags under her shirt and out of sight. So what gave her away? The songs? The timing of the songs? The guitar? Surely, other people had similar blue guitars. And how could Hangman even recognize the one he gave her? It'd been so long ago.

Ghost twisted her ring anxiously on her finger, staring at the guitars on her wall, debating whether to post a new song as an apology or delete the account altogether. She leaned toward the latter.

A knock on her door brought Ghost out of her thoughts. She hurried to answer it, wishing Hangman would be there to try and work things out but knowing better than to hope for such a thing. Her life wasn't one of the romance novels she loved so much. Hers was more of a tragedy...

When she opened the door, Coyote greeted her. Ghost immediately inquired, "How is he?"

"Struggling, trying to shut me out. The usual when he's upset," he replied, stepping inside with a backpack. "How are you doing?"

"Had better days."

"I figured. Listen, I can't stay long. I just needed to bring something by. And for the record-" Coyote opened his backpack and dug around before taking out a battered box- "you didn't get this from me."

"What is it?" Ghost asked, removing the lid. A bunch of letters, neatly organized, rested inside. Each envelope had her name on it in familiar handwriting.

"Hangman planned on giving you these when he realized he couldn't voice his apology. He wouldn't answer me truthfully about why he never followed through, but I think he got scared about how you'd react. He told me he got rid of them, but I knew better. I still believe he should've given them to you. I'm not sure how much Hangman told you last night, but if there are any holes or questions, maybe these will answer them for you."

Ghost stared at Coyote, unsure whether she should read the letters. Hangman had kept them from her for a reason. Even if he had been scared to give them to her, if he hadn't been the one to deliver them to her, there had to be a reason. Hangman was mad enough at her already. Ghost hated to add to that anger by reading the letters without his consent. Still, she had a question. "Why letters?"

Coyote shrugged. "I don't really remember. Just that it had something to do with a movie. I should get going, but call me if you need anything."

"Thank you, Coyote. For checking on him."

"Of course. And really, I know you have Princess and Rooster, but I'm here for you too."

"Hangman feels he only has you. I can't take you away from him."

"I'm your friend too, Ghost. Don't forget that," he told her firmly. Smiling appreciatively, she hugged Coyote tightly, a gesture he willingly returned. Ghost missed his bear hugs. "I want you two to work this out."

"Me too. You have no idea."

Coyote kissed the top of her head. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Ghost bid him goodbye, waited for the door to shut, then turned to the box of letters. She grabbed the top one and stared at it, mulling over the pros and cons, the right and wrong, of opening it. 

It's addressed to me. Hangman intended to give them to me. Reading one wouldn't hurt... would it? Throwing caution to the wind, Ghost grabbed the box and sat on her couch before opening the first letter. It was dated the day after the accident:

Ghost-

I'm not sure how to talk to you right now, so I'm resorting to these letters. It's easier to write what I'm feeling than to speak it. So much has happened in such a short amount of time, and all I can think about is seeing you die, seeing Ghoul die, and how I'm to blame for it. Saying sorry will never suffice or bring Ghoul back, but to the deepest parts of my soul, I am sorry. I am sorry for hurting you; I am sorry for taking Ghoul away from you and Coyote; and I am sorry that I haven't been able to see you again. I did try today, but the moment my foot stepped into sickbay, images of you dying- mixed in with those of Mom and Ghoul- stopped me. The three of you all died when I entered your rooms, and I couldn't risk it happening again. Logically, I know it's stupid. Logically, I understand they're simply horrific coincidences, but if there's even a chance that they're not mere 'coincidences,' then I can't see you until you're out of the hospital. That way, you can't die on me a second time because I can't lose you, too, Ghost.

I'll try to see you again tomorrow. 

Forever and Always,

Texas

Ghost's hands trembled. She should've stopped reading them after the first one like she said she would, but curiosity got the better of her. Ghost pulled out the second letter:

I've decided to write you a letter a day like Noah did to Allie in The Notebook. I remember watching that movie for the first time with you, and the letter idea always stuck with me. Not sure why, but it looks like it's coming in handy. Maybe this could be our own Noah and Allie story, but rather than it being us falling back in love, it's us falling back into our friendship because God knows it's going to be different now. I tried to visit you again, but the same thing happened. I can't cross the threshold into sickbay. All I want to do is see you, but even if I could get the courage to do so, what could I say to you that would even begin to mend what I broke? If your pain is anything like what I see in Coyote... I can't bear the idea.

Forever and Always,

Texas

Ghost wiped away a tear, smiling at the reference to The Notebook. She had wondered where he got the letters idea from, and now she knew. It had been her favorite movie for so long before she finally watched Pride and Prejudice, but it still held a dear place in her heart.

Ghost moved on to the third letter:

Coyote said you requested to see me today. I told him I would with every intention to follow through, but like yesterday and the day before, I couldn't do it. The weakling I am, I let my fears get the better of me. If you ever end up reading these, please know that my lack of visits has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I can't bear to see you in pain, let alone pain caused by me, and I can't stop seeing the memory of you dying every time I even consider visiting you. You can call me cowardly for it, and you'd be right. One day, maybe I can overcome this, but that's not today, and I'm sorry. I wish I could be better for you.

Forever and always,

Texas

Ghost read through more and more letters. All were relatively short, usually repeating the same things, but she could sense the despair and hatred for himself in each one, the next letter always turning slightly darker, more depressed. She found the one about a quarter of the way through that made the tears finally cascade silently down her face:

Word got around about my apparent ability to kill people when I step into their hospital room. Bradshaw- damn him- joked about me being some sort of hangman. Well, now that name's stuck, and whether I like it or not, my callsign is no longer Texas but Hangman. Nothing like being reminded that you killed your two best friends every time someone says your name. If they only knew about my mom... It's a fitting punishment for me, though. I did kill you and Ghoul, and I know I'm pretending like I've moved on in everyone's eyes, including yours, but I'm not okay Ghost. I'm so far from it. The trial is about to start soon. Why it's taken them this long to get to it, I don't understand. The waiting is the worst, especially because I know I'll see you then, see and hear your pain... if I don't look at you, it's not because I'm uninterested. It's because I'm not strong enough to do it. 

Forever and Always,

Hangman

A few weeks later, the letter became even more pained, more desperate:

It was so much worse than I imagined. Seeing you, I mean. Hearing you recount what happened reopened the wound I'd so carefully stitched together. Each word felt like a knife slicing open my skin, deep enough to hurt but not enough to kill, even though death would've been a less painful option. But you defended me. After everything I did that day, after everything I've done following it, you still defended me. It's given me the courage to finally talk to you. Once this is over, that is, since we're both witnesses and not meant to speak to each other until after the trial, but I will. I will finally talk to you, tell you why I haven't seen you, why I haven't been able to talk to you. I hope you understand. If not, I get it. I left you alone during a horrible time. If that ends up being the case, then know I love you, Ghost. I always have and always will, and if you ever decide to give me a second chance, I will be waiting for you.

Forever and Always,

Hangman

More weeks passed, and the letter said:

I'm not sure why I'm continuing to write these letters. Maybe a part of me thinks I'll get the nerve to send these to you and that you'll read them and magically forgive me for all the wrongs I've done to you. But I know those chances are slim to none. The look you gave me when I tried to approach you after the trial closed told me as such. I've seen you enraged, but not at me. Not until today. How you kept from throttling me in that moment, I'll never understand. I wish you would've, if not to put me out of my misery. It's getting worse each day, and I don't know how to pull myself out of it... and that scares me. I think I might need help, but if the Navy believes I'm mentally unfit, they'll pull me from flying, and that's the one thing keeping me sane right now. I don't know what to do, Ghost. All I do know is that I wish you were here.

Forever and Always,

Hangman

After that letter, Ghost had to take a break from reading them. How could she have been so blind to his pain? How could she not recognize that his response to her accident was a trauma response from his childhood? Sure, she'd been wrapped up in her own grief, but that badly? 

It took an hour before she could bring herself to read more. One after the other, each one wrenching her heart and tugging on her heartstrings until it threatened to suffocate her. However, the last letter was her undoing.

It's been a year since everything went to shit. It's been a year since Ghoul died, a year since we stopped speaking, a year since the last time I felt any form of genuine happiness. It's been harder and harder each day since the accident to get out of bed, go to work, put on a smile, and pretend everything's okay, but I barely made it today. It was weird. I'd actually been doing okay once I got out of bed and got in the air. It was when I landed, and my phone decided to remind me of my memories of the day that it all went to shit. I stupidly opened the reminder and saw a selfie of you, me, Coyote, and Ghoul, our last picture together before I killed y'all. I skipped lunch, and I'm skipping dinner to write this letter because I'm tired. I'm tired of the guilt, I'm tired of being alone, and I'm tired of hating myself. I can't keep doing this. I can't stop thinking of how easy it'd be to go down to the hangar right now and jump into the black waves. I'd be dead before anyone noticed I was gone. I'm not sure what's stopping me right now. Maybe because Coyote is on board, and I don't want to hurt him more than I already have, but even then, he has friends outside of me here. He has Phoenix and Payback, to name a couple. Who do I have outside of him? These letters will never make it to you, so maybe that's why I feel I can say all this. If these letters truly were meant to get to you, I would never voice half of these things. You've been burdened enough because of my decisions and actions, and I wouldn't dare add my own personal issues to them. God forbid, however, that these letters do find their way to you, if there are two things I want you to take away from them, it's that, first and foremost, I love you. Unequivocally, unabashedly, wholeheartedly in love with you. Second, I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused. It was never my intention.

Yours, Forever and Always,

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Ghost set the letter down and buried her face into her hands, sobbing at the depths of Hangman's despair, that'd he'd been in so much pain without anyone to turn to that he trusted. As close to Coyote as he'd been, Hangman hadn't felt he could go to him for what he'd been enduring, and Ghost understood Coyote had been the only one left for Hangman. Ghoul had died, Ghost had ended their friendship, and that was it. No wonder Jake felt so alone. No wonder his mind had gone down such a dark rabbit hole.

Ghost wiped away her tears and turned her gaze to the wall of guitars. She'd toppled over the edge with a song. Maybe she could start mending their friendship back with one...

****

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @bradshawsandbridgetons @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses @mak-32 @midnightmagpiemama @luckyladycreator2 @ellamae021 @kmc1989 @atarmychick007 @rotating-obsessions

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23 Chp 24 Chp 25 Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29 Chp 30 Chp 31 Chp 32 Chp 33 Chp 34

If you're not on the tag list and want to be, just let me know :)

#top gun #top gun fic #maverick #rooster #hangman #phoenix #bradley bradshaw #iceman #bob #jake seresin #coyote #payback #fanboy #omaha #yale #halo #fritz #harvard #tg2 #tgm #top gun maverick #fanfic #jake seresin X oc #pregnancy #grief #foxtrot #alpha

[fanfiction4sooya]

i’ve had this misana x reader that i was supposed to continue with but never did…but it’s so fucked up. and i mean very fucked up. airing out my thoughts atp.

basically you, the maid, is working for empress mina. she’s got shit ton of concubines but her eyes lay on you and you’re pretty much done for. you just don’t know it yet. but she makes you fall in love with her, even having your first time with mina. when you meet the girls who are also empresses, sana of course the flirt she is, she flirts with you which already sets mina off the wrong way. but sana is just being playful…partially anyway. sana sees how mina doesn’t like this. she can sense something is off with mina already. mina always had this look in her eye that was just deadly as some people would say.

if i remember correctly, my friend and i thought of this a long time ago, but mina had gotten jealous from a man in same ranking as her trying to flirt with you. she didn’t like this one bit. long story short, she kills him, but of course it’s hidden. she has power. but news gets around that the man has become missing and you ask mina if she had seen him last because she was the last person to speak with him. she doesn’t end attempt to hide it because “now i don’t have to worry about anyone taking you from me ever again.” her words. you’re disgusted by her actions and tell her off for it. saying how she’s no fit to be an empress. she committed murder for crying out loud. she only defends herself saying it was for you and her. you yell at her, saying that she does nothing but think about herself, and that she’s undeniably selfish and controlling. that you hate her. this sends mina over the edge and she is seething. she’s no longer the sweet mina you knew.

mina slaps you harshly. the first time she’s ever hit you. she decides to lock you in her dungeon. she says if you hate her, she’ll give you a reason to hate her now. months and months you spent in the dungeon. she’d only come down to give you food and ask that same question: “are you ready to love me, again?”. she asks this because from the way you spoke to her, she’s convinced you’re the one not right in the head. being locked in the dungeon for so long, you’ve truly lost your mind, becoming mute. her brainwashing you into thinking that only she loves and cares for you. the final day when she finally asks that same question, you respond with a yes just wanting to get out of the dark dungeon.

mina’s finally happy! she’s happy that you love her once more and she’s ready to give you everything you deserve…only thing is, no one knew. she ordered everyone in her palace to not utter a single word about what she did you, or else they would meet the same fate as the man she killed months ago. they didn’t utter a single thing. well, except for this one maid who sent a letter off to empress sana who explained the horrible things mina did to me. one night, as mina is helping me get ready for bed, she says “i’m so happy you love me again.” sending you into a breakdown, all while mina only smiles and stays creepily calm. you cling onto mina, now having Stockholm syndrome, you’re ready to be with her forever. not wanting anyone else but her. because only mina can love and protect you. it’s only until minatozaki sana comes to your rescue not ready to give up on you.

i would write more but i’ve already written so much 😭

Damn... what??? It's been a long time since I've read something angsty and well, this one made me do it.

Specially the psychology behind the way she repeats the words over and over again, engraving her false protection on your mind.

I love it, really. And I think you should definitely give it a shot!!!! Honestly, this is very good and I'm pretty sure your followers would love to see more of it. (And me and my followers too, love 💖💖💖)

[bl4cktourmaline]

٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶ — day 7 featuring hanasato minori

knock knock!

heres some mail!

ଘ(੭´꒳`)°* ੈ‧₊ 💌

⌨️ᶻᶻᶻ...anon is typing... ♡

↻ᴹᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ˡᵒᵃᵈᵉᵈ !

❝hihi!! for the chrismas prompts, can I req "want to play in the snow with me?" with minori please? thank youuu <3❞

━━❝Want to play in the snow with me?❞

"[naaameeee]! Isn't this penguin plush so cute?!"

You and Minori were at a store shopping for potential gifts for your friends. You guys had decided to get them different types of gift to fit their tastes.

Right now, you were at the plushie section trying to find a cute penguin plush for Haruka. You were holding bags that contained many different types of tea for Shizuku and some cute accessories for Airi.

"What about this one rin? It has a cute top hat and bowtie! Not only that, it's super huge too!"

"Waaaah! Should I just get multiple for Haruka?!"

You can already start to feel Minori's wallet shaking.

"Ahaha.. I know she is your good friend but I don't think your wallet would like that.."

"Hmm.. You're right! I probably should save in case a future live stream needs it. I knew I could count on you [name]!

As Minori perked up.

"Let's get the one with the top hat and bowtie. If you think it's cute, and I think it's cute. It should be cute for Haruka!"

"R-rin! I don't think that's how it wo-"

Just before you can finish your sentence, Minori had already ran off to purchase it.

'Nevermind haha. I just hope Haruka would like it'

As you followed and tried to catch up with Minori.

⋘ Outside the mall... ⋙

"Hehe! I hope MMJ likes what I got them~!"

As Minori hummed carrying her bags strolling next to you.

"Look rin! It has snowed so much that the ground is completely covered in it"

"Oh! You're completely right! Do you have time [name]? I have something to show you!"

You nodded, as you allowed Minori to lead you to the side where there were more snow.

"Shizuku taught me how to make this. I hope I don't mess this up hehe~"

As you watch Minori's action intently. As she slowly rolled a big ball of snow and started to carve out ears and a muzzle.

Slowly the big lump of snow turned into a snow dog! With Minori using pebbles for its eyes and nose.

"What do you think about this [name]?! Pretty cute right?"

"I admit, it is cute. However I find you cuter."

As Minori's cheek redden a bit before she ran to you and hold your free hand.

"Want to play in the snow with me?"

"I can even teach you how to make these snow puppies!"

(っ'-')╮=͟͟͞͞💌 You receive a letter from Santa X!

↻ᴹᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ˡᵒᵃᵈᵉᵈ !

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

Minorin~! Thanks for requesting this anon~! This was a lotta fun to write :D

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#｡⊹˚x; writing ˏˋ꒰❄️꒱˚彡๑ #twelve days of christmas 2023 #virtualnetwork #minori hanasato x reader #minori hanasato #hanasato minori #hanasato minori x reader #prosekai #project sekai colorful stage #project sekai x reader #fanfic #pjsk x reader #gender neutral reader #pjsk #pjsekai #fluff #project sekai minori #minori pjsk #minori project sekai #x reader #mmj minori #more more jump #proseka #prsk #prsk x reader #prosekai x reader #proseka x reader #project sekai x you #project sekai fluff #project sekai fanfic

[apompkwrites]

I’m pretty new to tumblr so if I’m doing this wrong, IM SO SORRY!

So the concept that’s been eating away at my brain is- what if the siblings had embodied the spirit of the 7 in the opposite way their dorm head siblings had?

Like (Name) Ashengrotto embodying benevolence in the most basic way. They aren’t a pushover but they’re kind and wanna help out people who are “unfortunate” because they were/are. This lets them become a really trust worthy figure and have lots of people see them as a genuine kind soul…with a bit of an sly streak. Like, “someone’s bullying you? Ok :)”

*the next week all of them are too scared to look the bullied person in the eyes*

(Name) Kingscholar being a person who actually see’s all as equal and gives equal opportunities to everyone. Since they were royalty and still mistreated that would instill a “no one’s more important than others because of position” mindset. So instead of Leona’s “Everyman for themselves/survival of the fittest” they have a more “help everyone/ everybody has potential”. This would lead to the weaker students rallying behind them. Like the hyenas from the movie. Even if the students ascend from their “weaker” spot they still have to owe the little Kingscholar since they’re the reason the person got out of that spot in the first place. Basically garnering loyalty and respect through helping the weak.

(Name) Al-asim is mindful-genuinely. (Kalim and Jamil are to but in very twisty ways) Like they don’t feel as condescending as Jamil when they give advice “Umm..well I suggest you-”. they’re so sweet but so smart in a “wise friend” type of way, like that one friend in your group who’s always the voice of reason but never compromises the vibe. People start going to them to air out grievances and they gain the students trust very easily. (Ooo juicy secrets) I don’t think they’re above airing out dirty laundry personally but stuff like that has to be reserved for big moments. If anything it just helps them ease drop without being worried about.

(Name) Shroud would learn to be actually charismatic and a total people person. They take up a streamer kinda persona. Nerdish and dorky but in such a fun “I’ll garner my own type of crowd” way.

What about the dorms heads who take theirs pretty literally? Well…

(Name) Rosehearts would learn to stay true to the rules…technically. They would find ways to bend the very vague rules into something more bearable and fun. Instead of following the rules to the letter they find their own interpretations and make life a lot easier for the students in heartslabyurl. Students love them as they make life so much easier and find clever ways to work smarter not harder. You can’t call them a mischief maker now can you?

I love the black sheep AU. It’s so fun and gets my brain rolling on characters. I’ve even spent an hour come up with HC names for each of them that parallel they’re older siblings. (Though I won’t add them since this ask is so long already)

ooh ooh like the way that starkid characterized the villains in twisted!!!

basically, for anyone who hasnt seen twisted, there is a song where a bunch of disney villains come on stage to talk about their "twisted" tales. ursula talks about how king triton stripped her of the throne because she was a woman and scar talks about how he only wanted to bring hyena and lion kind together and try and better their relationship.

basically their actions still kinda exist but its their motivations are different. if you get what I'm saying?

but i like it! that way theyre opposites but still coming from the same sort of upbringing :D

#a pompk answers #black sheep

[glapplebloom]

The Season 8 Finale and Cozy Glow’s true self shows.

The episode begins with Cozy Glow really showing just how much she integrated among the school. She helps Muffins getting the mail, a new student find her first class, Silverstream with a crossword puzzle and Twilight when she goes Twilynanas. But on a field trip to Cloudsdale, half the school decides to drop out of it. And by that I mean the spell that keeps them on the clouds stops working.

I’m going to save my Cozy Glow rants for later, but keep in mind the following: Five Ponies, Yona, Starlight, Sandbar and two other students, are falling to their deaths because the Spell Starlight cast suddenly stopped working. There are currently six winged creatures who have not fallen down. Each one catches another, with Gallus and Ocellus working together to get Yona. Imagine if there was one or more Non-Pegasi among them.

Back at the school, Dash and Starlight told Twilight but she dismissed it thinking it was a mistake in the spell she cast. That is until Twilight herself failed to pick up a book. With Rarity being another pony who lost her magic, they wonder how this could be happening. Cozy Glow suggests Tirek is behind this. And just in time as Celestia calls them to Canterlot to talk about this.

Pretty much there has been multiple reports of this all over Equestria, even they are having trouble moving the Sun and Moon. And Starswirl, via letter, figured out the problem. In three days, all magic will be gone. Starting with Unicorn Magic and Spells. Then creatures in general. And finally artifacts. So when the Sun Sets on the Third day (let’s ignore that for now), all Magic will be gone forever. 

Twilight and Friends volunteered to go to Tartarus to see if Tirek is behind this. But as she leaves the School, she entrusts Starlight to run the school when she’s gone. Cozy Glow thought she was going to, but got super excited to help her. The next time we see her, apparently Starlight Glimmer decided to go with Twilight while Cozy Glow runs the school now. I’m pretty sure even new watchers are seeing this and thinking the same thing Smolder is.

After seeing our heroes move on, Cozy Glow seemed to have been winning over the majority of the students. The Student Six are doing a group study in the Library as they discuss the current situation. The Anti-Cozy group gets the leg up when they see her exiting the catacombs that we established had the Tree of Harmony in. They follow her to see Chancellor Neighsay in Twilight’s office. 

After seeing Twilight and friends again entering Tartarus with no way out, we establish that the two are not working together. Neighsay is having a hostile takeover and his first action is to lock up the Student Six so they can be sent back to their homes. Sandbar lies saying he sees the truth but instead looking for help. He finds the Crusaders and they think Cozy Glow can help them save the school from Neighsay.

The first part ends and the second part begins with us discovering Cozy Glow is the pony behind the Magical Disappearance. She wants to rule Equestria as the Empress of Friendship. And thanks to Cozy Glow’s plan, Twilight and Crew are stuck in Tartarus with possibly a day remaining. So Twilight came up with a plan: convince Tirek to absorb the Magic that remains in the fusion creatures to open the door. Spoiler, it works but basically where they are it would have been too late.

Back with Sandbar and the Crusaders, they try but find out stepping on the Magic Symbol sucks anyone close up. So the plan is Sandbar gets their friends while the Crusaders try to distract Cozy Glow. This was their backup plan because their original plan of “convince Neighsay the truth” was already taken out when Cozy Glow manipulated the rest of the School to take him out. 

The Students free him after this and he goes to the Princesses. After all, he saw first hoof that she was evil. And after finding out she was responsible, easy to believe. So while they wait and hopefully the Crusaders doing their job, they would go down to the catacombs to try to stop the spell. Sadly, Cozy Glow saw through this and got the School on her side. The Student Six gets sucked up and basically, Cozy Glow would have won.

The Main Six are too far away to stop her. The Princesses and the Guards are far away. And Cozy pretty much has the School eating out of her hoof. And with no magic, pretty much no more flying pegasi. No more controlled weather. No more proper food storages since they mostly use magic to maintain it. Maybe Eternal Night considering nobody is controlling the Sun and Moon.

Luckily Friendship is Magic and the Tree of Harmony decided to save them. They released the artifacts and luckily the school didn’t blow up. All the magic is back and Cozy Glow gets her comeuppance. Pretty much every Student, the Princesses, Chancellor Neighsay and the Royal Guard stop her. After some time, most likely the next day, Neighsay apologizes for pretty much everything as the Student Six try to graduate but don’t because it's only been a year. 

Sometime after, we see Luna escorting Cozy Glow to Tartarus, who immediately plots to try to take over Equestria again. Overall, it is a very enjoyable episode with possibly the smartest villain to ever be on the show. She integrated with the entire school so she could earn their trust and set it up so pretty much she was in total control. She just didn’t take into account the Tree of Harmony, the Ultimate Uno Reverse Card.

My big issue is with people thinking Cozy Glow didn’t deserve her punishment. They question why she doesn’t get the Redemption Attempt when Discord and Starlight do. A future Research Bin is basically going to be me trying to convince you that she straight up deserved what she got. From Headcanons about her not being a child to actual facts that showed why Discord and Starlight got turned to good while others didn’t. 

Click here for the original review and how it fits in GLAB canon.

#green lantern apple bloom #mlp review #mlp revisit #season 8

[desmond69miles]

Was reading the Jacob x Reader with a vampire lover and I swear, I'm tempted to send a series of mythical races s/o and the Twins reaction to them 🧍🏽‍♀️

( just bc it would be funny af 😭)

Someone suggested a vampire lover for Jacob, matching the Victorian Aesthetic and what-not, but HEAR ME OUT: Werewolf Reader ✨

Like, maybe they could be one of the Rooks (?), and they start to date Jacob (don't wanna separate the canon Evie x Henry), but the Twins start to notice s/o 's oddities and discovers they have a furry buddy among them (?)

Just an idea, stay safe and your work is great! Keep going with it! 🩵

It's currently hot as balls inside my house but freezing cold and snowy outside so I'm choosing hypothermia instead of hyperthermia.

Anyway, thank you, Anonymous, for your request. My God, I love supernatural reader x character stories. They're pretty much one of my favorite things to write.

I made it so you (reader) are kind of like - how do I explain this - energetic dog who bites by accident but is very loving. ALSOOOOOOOO I've made you a werewolf that turns into a wolf, not like the Sims 4 werewolves or Karl Heisenberg or whatever you want to use as an example.

[-: Jacob steals the hearts of all of his Rooks, men and women alike. When he caught wind of a rather rough-and-tough new member of his gang that climbed the ranks rather fast, he had to meet you and found himself rather caught in your behaviors. At first, he thought you were a little strange, but hey, aren't we all? He admired your passion.

[-: Evie would like you, too. She'd be the first to come up with the theory that you weren't exactly human. I mean, when you smile, you show off those sharp teethers, and they aren't precisely human (nor is your craving for meat and the crunch of bones or the occasional wet dog smell). Evie wouldn't bring Jacob in on this for a little, though.

[-: There wouldn't be actual evidence - nor the thought of lycanthropy - until the pattern of your disappearance during the night or at full moons. There could be a few ways that the twins find out, such as...

A) Jacob is curious about your post-nine P.M. vanishing and decides to follow you out of the train. You lead him to an alleyway - he watches you from the rooftops- and Jacob swears he saw you shift into a giant wolf before prancing down the street.

B) Evie finds your book on Lycanthropy Traditions and Culture, flips it open, and finds a letter from... pack... leader? She's confused and inquires to Henry about her findings, and Henry suggests the idea of being a werewolf. They both confront you and feeling somewhat cornered by the Assassins, you come clean. That immediately explained a lot of your actions and your desire for pets by Jacob, and Evie lets you tell her brother on your own time. Although, Evie would keep a watch just in case you decide to maul her brother while he's sleeping.

[-: It definitely gets normalized among the Rooks for a huge wolf to walk in and sit on the couch.

"Welcome to the rooks!"

"Thanks, Jacob."

The door swings open, Jacob scratches your ear

"...Why do you have a wolf?"

"They're our guard dog."

[-: Cue the constant agony for the twins. HAIR, EVERYWHERE! Those were Evie's new sheets, and you got hair all over it. Jacob's hat? It's designer with real wolf fur. Henry's books? Bookmarked by your coat. Do expect at least Jacob to buy you a steak once in a while if you let him de-shed your wolf from time to time.

#jacob frye x reader #assassins creed x reader #evie frye x reader

[muchadoaboutstartrek]

I got a Spock/La’an idea if you’re interested. How about one where the crew having become acutely aware of Spock and La’an mutual infatuation that they take bets on when they’ll finally admit it/hook up and maybe even some of the senior staff try to covertly set the two up.

Here you go! I hope you like it. I chose the 5+1 style of post for this particular drabble.

1. Chris

They thought they were being sneaky, Chris could tell. They were delusional, in his humble oppinion.

As if Chris didn't notice the stolen glances across the bridge concealed in a witty banter and snarky remarks. Like he was oblivious to the way Spock would lean over her station to "look at the phaser alignments" and not actually brush his fingers against her's in what he obviously, and rather foolishly, thought was a discrete fashion.

It wasn't.

Not to mention the way his eyes would hungrily follow La'an's form as she strutted across the bridge confidently.  Or the way La'an would look Spock up and down and almost drool. Chris wasn't foolhardy enough to actually offer her a napkin to wipe her mouth. He was pretty sure there was some under-the-table action that one time in his quarters when La'an almost choked on her food while Spock turned green when they turned to look at them.

They couldn't have been any more obvious had they hung a neon sign above their heads that said "we are fucking" in bold capital letters.

When he first noticed the bubbling attraction and sizzling tension between the two, he thought there was nothing but sex there. An orgasm for orgasm. Purely beneficial on both sides. He wasn't an expert on Vulcan relationships but he was pretty sure Vulcans didn't do casual and for a moment Chris wondered about T'Pring before he chased that thought away. It wasn't his business.

But as he watched Spock's eyes soften when La'an spoke about her time in the academy and how La'an pretended not to look at Spock as he washed the dishes in his quarters, he wondered how deep that relationship actually went and if he was wrong to assume the true nature of their relationship.

2. Una

Una knew relationships didn't come easy to La'an. Poor thing has been traumatized one too many times to be trusting blindly to anyone that comes along.

She knew she didn't have many partners at the academy, instead focusing on her studies and working her butt off to climb the ranks.

Spock was another piece of work. The Vulcan was hot, even in her own opinion, and she wasn't oblivious to the fact. She has been very aware of it from the moment she first met him in that transporter room. He was obviously cocky and confident if the way his hands immediately went to her hips when she asked him to give her a boost was anything to go by.

He wasn't tender, with anyone, really. In fact, she has observed him and made a conclusion he even went above and beyond his way to appear slightly cruel to some newer Ensigns or those who he didn't know. He was cold and calculating.

Which is why it shocked her so much, almost punched the breath out of her, when she stumbled upon him and La'an talking in the hallway that one time. There wasn't anything wrong with that, she was perfectly aware, but what ticked her off was the way Spock was standing closer to her than he would to anyone, even Chris. And La'an... she seemed content with it. Una saw the way smile tugged at the edge of her lip and she gasped when Spock raised his hand and removed a strand of hair from her face that has come undone.

So that's why they seemed weird to her. Una suddenly had flashback of that one time La'an was having breakfast with her, which was an unusual occurrence in on itself because La'an liked eating alone. But what really made a difference was the way La'an was smiling at her PADD as she typed something on it. It was only now that Una was able to connect the dots she was probably texting Spock that was sitting few tables to the left.

3. Chapel

Chapel liked Spock... a bit more than a friend.

She denied it even to herself, but ever since that kiss they shared in front of Angel in order to throw them off their game, Spock never really left her mind.

And of course, as such, she always noticed little things about him. Which was probably the reason she noticed something was going on with him and Chief of Security straight away.

She watched, in stunned silence, as Spock rushed into sickbay, La'an's almost unconscious and limp form cradled in his arms. She moved on autopilot, following M'Benga as he rushed to assess the situation, noticing the deep wounds in La'an's stomach as blood seeped out and stained Spock's science blue uniform. She grabbed her scissors as Spock set her on the bed, a painful groan flying out of her mouth, as Chapel moved to cut away her uniform shirt in order to get a better look at the lacerations while M'Benga rushed to power up surgical ward.

She worked to stop the bleeding as much as possible, Spock now the last thing on her mind, but considering her close proximity, she couldn't avoid seeing the way La'an's hand dropped onto Spock's arm and his fingers squeezed her bloody digits tightly. Chapel's eyes snapped to Spock's face, noticing the way his teeth were clenched together so hard the muscles in his jaw were twitching.

It hit her like a punch to the gut when Spock bent down to La'an's level, his other hand cradling her head almost lovingly in order to whisper something, she couldn't hear, in her ear.

She had no time to think about what happened just in front of her eyes as M'Benga barked orders left and right and they were both wisked away to scrub up while they wheeled La'an away into surgery.

She still remembers the haunted look on Spock's face as he watched the bed disappear.

4. Uhura

Uhura marveled the way La'an lead the team of Ensigns down onto the planet with almost surgical precision and commanded attention with her presence alone.

She also admired Mr. Spock's ability to excel in almost anything he put his mind onto and if being La'an's second in command at an away mission was one of those things, then he would do it with absolute success.

She always assumed they were nothing more but good colleagues with the highest amounts of respect for one another, ocassional bickering across the bridge notwithstanding, and that's why they worked so well as a team.

But she couldn't help but think she has been slightly biased when she heard very distinctive word coming out of La'an's mouth at one of those away missions.

"Adun," Uhura almost dropped her stylus but composed herself and remained turned with their back to them, not letting them know she has overheard. "Sorry. Lt. Spock, there is a member of your science team that is asking for assistance."

She waited for the ball to drop and for Spock to either say something along the lines of inappropriate behaviour on an away mission or just walk away, but almost got a stroke when she heard him speak affirmative and then quietly, "Kahs'khiori." Which, if her Vulcan studies served her well, meant "shooting star".

5. Ortegas

She really hated when Ensigns messed up.

She didn't blame them, she was an ensign once as well, but how hard was it to just bring up the PADD from engineering without compromising the information she needed.

She walked down the empty corridor as the sound of laughter that sounded ridiculously similar to La'an's voice reached her ears along with a deep masculine voice. She frowned. Since when did La'an  hang out with anyone, let alone a guy.

Too curious for her own good, she rounded the corner but stayed hidden just in case as she moved towards the Jefferies tube. There was another sudden chuckle echoing around the metal walls, but this one belonged to the man and if Ortegas's hearing was serving her well, it sounded suspiciously like Spock.

She peeked behind the corner, prepared to see almost anything... only to be blown away as she spotted two figures, definitely La'an and Spock (she's recognise those braids and pointed ears anywhere) tinkering with controls in Jefferies tubes. That wasn't unusual, Spock was usually sent to fix minor glitches in certain areas since he required no guidance on how to do it. But what really surprised Ortegas was the way La'an was smiling and laughing at something Spock was saying. She only managed to catch glimpses of it.

"So then what happened?"

"I am ashamed to admit I fell into the mud. And since it was rainy season, I had to walk the distance on foot back to my home. My mother was not pleased. She insisted I leave my clothes outside since the mud will stain her white carpets."

La'an bursted into another fit of laughter, holding onto Spock for balance. Ortegas watched in astonishment as Spock cradled La'an's hip while Lt. threw her arms around his neck, still chuckling. She saw corners of Spock's mouth lift up in a half-smirk as he bent down and took La'an's grinning lips into a kiss.

Ortegas ducked out of the hallway, blushing as red as her uniform.

+1. The one where Spock and La'an are taken by surprise

Spock and La'an stood, both of them quite shocked, as they watched the way their friends looked at them with almost flat expressions on their faces.

Chris broke the silence. "Fucking finally."

Una nodded next to him. "I agree. It was a goddamn time."

"Yeah, you guys really weren't that slick." They watched as everyone in the room nodded, amused grins on their faces.

La'an looked at Spock who was standing next to her,  his arm around her waist. She flung her arms out. "Whoa hold up! You knew about us?" She gestured between herself and him. Spock was sporting an equally confused look.

It was Chapel who nodded. " Yeah.... I mean we're not blind and you guys are as subtle as a plane crash."

"She's right. Kind of hard to ignore all the eye-fucking across the bridge."

"Wait... They were doing That?" Una turned to Chris and he nodded.

"Well yeah. Wait, how did you find out?"

"I saw Spock tuck a strand of hair behind her ear."

"That gave it away? I caught them making out in the Jefferies tube!"

"And I head them speak in Vulcan to one another at an away mission."

Spock and La'an only stood with their mouths opened as their friends continued exchanging stories of what they've affectionately named "finding out moment". They were kind of perplexed the crew noticed it so much but also slightly unnerved they weren't as good at hiding it as they've originally thought.

But at the same time they couldn't help but to be proud their family on board was accepting of their relationship. Despite the fact they've tried to hide it from them.

#la'an x spock #la'an noonien singh #spock #star trek strange new worlds #star trek: strange new worlds #spock x la'an #star trek #st snw #my fic

[nvrcmplt]

One of the few perks of about being a private investigator was access to information, and a face went a long enough way for Jeanne as she had been forced ( by her assistant ) to issue an apology to the poor woman who had gotten caught up in her previous ordeal. Delivered in her mailbox was a letter, handwritten and signed J.B. The letter, when read would read the following:

I hope our first meeting gave you a good first impression (she has crossed out good ). My assistant, upon his return, urged me to send an apology for the problems that may have occurred and he hopes you won't sue him (I for one can handle a lawsuit). I do wish to apologize and make up for the conversation we couldn't have. Coffee is on me. You will find at the Cafe listed down below.

P.S before you wonder how I found your address, I'm a private investigator (and you left your wallet).

Tucked withing the mailbox were the wallet.

No tricks this time, just good old coincidence (for she could have done enough sleuthing with just her face). For the poor woman who got wrapped up with Jeanne the other day !

The loss of a wallet was a shame, she liked the print of leather in that one. Plus it was her 40th present from Eijun, so when she returned home that evening to find herself with mail and a gift inside - the very item she's been mourning the loss of. She felt her heart skip a beat at holding the leather to her chest again. Cards all inside, discounts and number cards, a photo of herself and said brother in animal ear filters when they were way younger than their current times.

She didn't hesitate to open up the letter that it seemingly came with and with a laugh, she moved herself to the kitchenette to read it as she placed her bag aside and washed her hands from the outside germs and took down her hair with a relieved hum and itch. "Coffee, huh?" It wasn't the best time for caffeine, but to be honest - she did need to have her patient looked at from a hunch in her core. A bad idea really but she wasn't a fool, she knew her legal rights outside and inside her business.

Sighing as she gathered her wallet to place into her bag once more, she moved to the bedroom to change her blouse and reapply perfumes with adjusting the minimal make-up worn. Leaving her hair down as the ache to her scalp was already irritating her, she took a moment to step aside and change her wedges for flats. Just a hunch, just in case… It was crazy to think about really. She knew PI's had the drama on TV about being hated for their work but to be a part of that?

At that crazy height too?

Well, at least she got to sleep well that night, stuck with the smell of Jeanne's clothes on her own. The heat of her skin, the shear strength in both body and mind she expelled in the moment of worthy of screaming if one was not calmed enough. Ji Ae couldn't help herself in thinking back to it either, they were practically slotted to each other to hide, instead of merely asking how much it'll cost to get proof upon a possible domestic abuse situation - she was instead in an action movie with a beautiful woman as a guardian.

Checking her phone for the first time, she took off again to the front door. Scooping up the letter, her keys and headed back outside to go meet up with the lady in waiting. She couldn't say she wasn't bursting with questions - since she was pretty much ushered home after climbing back inside.

"Just a cup then." She told herself, adjusting her bag's strap and climbing into her car once more to head for the address on the note.

#avaere #« ( Ji Ae ) » Answers. #just a pair of ladies going for a drink

[yackers]

okay so I've been rewatching some of s3 and I'm unsure how to feel. Like in many cases Patricia's jealousy is way overdramatic but in some cases (esp when eddie was checking out the same woman that his dad was 🤢) its kinda justified?? ugh idk these two really needed to work on their communication

see what I’ve said before that’s always made sense to me is that patricia’s over the top jealousy towards kt and eddie is, at first especially, a result of eddie using mara to make her jealous when he was mad at her the previous year. like you said about their frankly insane problems with communication, they tend to convey how they’re feeling towards each other exclusively through actions like just being randomly rude to each other or ignoring each other or using someone else to make the other jealous. so like in s3 when kt first arrives, patricia is unaware of eddie’s visions about her and knows that he’s mad at her about what happened over the summer so she assumes that lines like “you’re the girl from my dream” are like bad attempts at flirting with another girl in front of her to piss her off. he then proceeds to literally follow kt around everywhere and stuff and without context it just looks like he’s coming on way too strong. especially considering the fact she still liked him and could’ve wanted to make up with him when they got back to school. like she’s wayyy too mean to kt and I’m not saying that she was right for that but it’s not uncharacteristic of patricia because she’s always been mean to and wary of new people due to her trust issues and fear of like change within her home. and I’m not saying her reactions to everything aren’t rooted in jealousy because like they are but she also got mad at how much time nina and fabian spent together in s1 because she didn’t trust her and was mad that fabian did like she’s just overly protective of the house I think. she’s also just scared of losing him to girl that you can tell she secretly thinks is pretty cool.

and then her jealousy within her relationship with eddie once they’re back together is like you said a result of them being really shit at communicating. they never really have conversations about their relationship and tell each other when they’re mad so like when she sees him hug kt around a time when things had been a little rocky between them she retaliates by spending time with ben because they’re still barely able to be vulnerable enough with each other (especially her) to be able to say when things bother them. the whole talk they finally have where they actually say to each other that they only have feelings for each other only actually happens once patricia’s soul is gone ffs. (which is part of why a lot of her sinner behaviour feels so off because she’s never usually that open with her feelings).

and yea like that yucky yuck yuck scene you mentioned (that was sooo unnecessary bc yea 🤮) like I don’t even necessarily think that’s jealousy because to have the audacity to check out a random woman in front of your girlfriend does just mean you should get whacked. I think that’s just the show setting her up for the tricks denby plays on her later on. it builds a foundation for her distrust of eddie’s fidelity which is then built upon by denby mentioning his wandering eyes (I think that might have been right before this scene actually), the love letter and then eventually the messages.

so I don’t even think she’s necessarily ever crazily jealous for like just the sake of drama like a lot of people suggest about s3. her insecurity and trust issues become her arc that leads to her downfall and sinner capture because for three seasons she’s barely been able to trust anyone to consistently care about her and look out for her and I actually think that in a show that relies so much on teamwork and camaraderie it’s pretty cool for that to be a fatal flaw.

I will say that in tor it’s just kinda weird like you could argue that it’s because she’s upset about them taking her place in the house and stuff but like the show was just weird for implying that there could ever have been any romance between supposedly 14 year old sophia and 18 year old eddie and it wasted the last time the audience had with the show’s fan favourite couple for the sake of like the pink dress gag. tor was just written really badly in general though like I love it but I never take it too seriously.

#this was so much I’m sorry #but like I genuinely love doing like think pieces about this show #like never hesitate to send me stuff like this because I have so many thoughts about everything #house of anubis #ask #anon #txt

[alyosiuscreightonward]

Dear Diary.

After working so many hours in the past few weeks, I’ve a moment to catch up.

I work at a store where it is absolutely amazing that the store remains open. People don’t follow the rules and literally run amok as employees, is mid boggling to me.

Some people actually steal shit. In the world of retail, if you open and consume a product before purchasing it then that’s considered stealing. I don’t give a flying fuck on a rolling doughnut that you can eventually pay for it, you did willingly with afore thought consumed said item and NOW YOU’RE GOING TO PAY FOR IT AFTER ITS GONE??!!

Then I had to fire three people. One was notorious for being a No Call No Show and then in a group text admitted that he was drunk and he had allegedly gone to hospital for an IV treatment for allegedly having alcohol poisoning.

Then there’s the problem child. He admits that he has been homeless for allegedly six years now. How his family abandoned him and kicked him out. I understand that he’s angry at the world but it’s also sad and obvious that he’s refusing to take responsibility and ownership for his actions.

I can speak to this. In the late 1970’s, 1978-1980, I was homeless because I was a junkie and I was actively using. A few people helped me but I eventually fucked it up due to my own personal reasons and I wanted to make it clear that I was there and that led me down a darker path. I ruined my own life and I also ruined their lives by telling their parents or whomever that I was a part of the problem. It didn’t matter what their families thought of them but I was just going to eradicate them. I poisoned them and myself no matter the consequences.

One example, a phone call. “Mrs. Blank, ever since your son, Blank, has been coming here to do this thing, he’s been having affairs with men and I’ve been one of them. I also know that he may have gotten some girl, Blank, pregnant since she told me she had an abortion.”

Then there’s my poison pen letters. I’d write them all down and go into excruciating detail about what I did wrong and how their child was in this situation. Don’t believe me? Then ask these people (names and numbers) who are in their lives. Some are friends and some are at the university.

I own my shit. I also know that I don’t flush Haagen Dazs French Vanilla. I don’t sleep on a bed of rose petals. I snore. I also have fits of rhinotillexomania when driving. I also have had a bout of flatulence at inappropriate times.

However the aforementioned problem child is playing the angry game of how he was wronged and the entire world is out to get him. When I went to the police station, I told them that I was sitting at home plotting to destroy his life even though I had only met a few weeks prior.

He rolled up on me on his scooter (everyone knows the sound it makes) and started hurling insults at me because that person hadn’t been fired even though they were selling drugs, involved in robbing the cradle (she’s in 50s and her boyfriend is 27) and stealing from the job. He called me retarded and I was a fucking faggot. He spewed a few more choice words and insults at me and then proceeded to leave.

I then promptly took to my narrow behind to the police and asked for a no trespass warrant. I added, I’m 64 years old and with out and about I do fear for my life.

Then after that, it went pretty much straight downhill from there and there I was at the job crying in front of customers.

Up to that point in time, I had been thinking I was doing a good job by being the acting manager (Meryl Streep acting manager) and with a few exceptions I had been working diligently and really hard on getting things done. It fell apart. As usual I eventually got it together and went through the remainder of the day. It had gotten ugly via text messages because no one was answering me. Some time later, I had gotten a text message from someone who knew I was going away to Palm Springs, if I was going to change my tickets and stick around to get it done.

FUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKER!! I PAID FOR THESE TICKETS BACK IN EARLY AUGUST AND I AM GOING TO FUCKING PALM SPRINGS YOU FECKLESS CUNT!!!

As I am writing this, I’m in the desert about a mile away from the actual town of Palm Springs but I’m here and they’re all flailing about.

The sun is shining. The wind is blowing. It’s currently 75 degrees. I’m now going to finish my coffee and have a cigarette and then I’m heading into the pool.

#dear diary #no your not the only one #i wrote this for me #inside my mind #my words #ramblings #my writing #pity party #bipolar depression #lgbtq #feckless people #its not fair #suck it up buttercup #ownership #responsibility

[blondrichclosetwitch]

But I thought this wouldn’t hurt a lot,

I guess not

Dreaming up an alibi

Nothing feels good like you

Limbs clenched so hard

All I want from you is a letter and to be your distant lover

that’s all I can offer at this time

Man, these bitches get scared, they tellin, tellin'

Pluto and Jupiter, I go to Venus

'Cause I got a really big team and they need some really big rings (to me this is a reference to a past life I learned about from a teacher who saw us as brothers, and he compared us to planets: Blond was Jupiter because she had the money, and I was saturn who had the wit. He went on to say that I was going to write about us, and that it was going to be hilarious. Saturn of course has the big rings.)

What happened to that, that chubby little kid who smiled so much and loved the Beach Boys?

What happened is I, I killed that fucker and I took his name and I got new glasses

When I’m closing in on death

Heroine, be the death of me

“It’s my wife.”

Hit this one out of the park

Every time you close your eyes, lies, lies (one of the practices done on me and Jakk was like a subliminal repetition that would work on us while we slept)

I really want to see you

Substituting your lies for fact

Substitute you for my mum

All my celluloid scenes are torn at the seams

Ex-cowboy (one of their calling cards for Jakk was lonesome cowboy bill, about how all the girls were hot for the lonely rodeo guy, so might be a reference to some change in his status)

Like the video films we saw

The barbarians are coming but will the dreamers stay strong

Barramundi

I Love my baby; and my baby loves me

Mars (a lot of action today)

I’ll Follow you down down down (I made a recording of me singing this in the tub for Jakk, it’s something they used to like me to perform, yes, it’s got it’s own dance)

Gain the weight of you and then lose it, believe me I could do it (have you heard the story of as the pandemic began, tricking me into believing I was pregnant? That went on for five months, because you couldnt get to the doctors. I even wrote Jakk a letter that was delivered to his work telling him I was expecting and I needed to keep calm. anyway imho that was the meanest thing she did. Though the decapitated animals was pretty bad.)

Ain’t it funny? All the twisted games

As we lay upon your bed (twisted games as you lay upon my bed; you mean like the tub of urine you threw on the underside? Or are we talking about the animal blood on the wall? Laurie I’d be happy to show you these things)

You know I’m still somebody’s daughter, see

Who the hell is in your bed (Stella says she can name the participants)

With the endless: SERGEI: I shall see her again. I know that in my heart. One last time. Until then, I shall continue to send people to her.

Girls all In your bed and they just ask a hunnid questions

Whole lot of 6’s

Got the key, and now the door’s open and we all goin through it

Oh and she’s known in the darkest clubs

“If she says she can do it, she can do it.” Speaking of I’ve been making a list of what was done, and how much other practitioners charge…I was being “trained” by January 2016, and the full plan didn’t start to go into effect for seven months. There was candle workings, dolls made, an unborn invoked and tethered, spells of the mind, not to mention a spell to break us up (that was the original thing she was hired for),…many of these are spells that you work on slowly, so monthly charge for each of those. And of course there was the getting me to trust her. Many of you don’t know that the TR was my closest female ally in nyc. I trusted her with everything. Even her LP knew there were times I only could handle talking to the TR, nobody else. I fell for an intimacy that was a fabrication, funded by a millennial who had a trust fund. Moral of the story: love all, trust few and beauty is only skin deep. Don’t fall for it. They’ll lie to your face while looking you in the eye without batting a fake eyelash.

Oh could it be

I passed you by a thousand times before

Not knowing who you were Then she sees the uneasy look on his face She goes back to work and all her friends are pointing

She thought she'd turn a boy into a man but in real life some things don't go to plan

Welcome to no sympathy night

I was enchanted to meet you.

(Go west) this is our destiny

Chicago

Down in New Orleans

In New York City

Don't ask me questions that you don't want the answers to

The world is so loud, keep falling, I'll find you

starvation's necessary

'Cause my head's a dictionary

“I know, dear It has been a brutal year”

Prince Johnny, you're kind, but do be careful when all your friends and acolytes are holding court in bathroom stalls

Well, your eyes flash out a warning

And we'll take this man, left almost passed out til he forgets the crawling way real people sometimes are

#today is a 22/13/04

[tweekfilms]

a little conversation

hello and welcome back to the narrations. this is just some nice comfort :))

by the time gert put down her phone, chase had come back with a bowl of popcorn in his hand.

“so is this just an us movie night or is everyone coming later” gert asked

“well i said tomorrow instead because i just wanted some time with you only and i guess karolina because she’s our roommate basically” chase sat down

“can i bring something up” gert asked facing him

chase nodded with a mouth full of popcorn in his mouth to which gert slightly laughed at

“do you feel relieved now that you said everything” gert wondered

“i mean yeah i just wanted to end that chapter of my life once and for all. i don’t want to hold back anything anymore” chase looked up at the ceiling

“oh that’s all i wanted to know” gert was content with that answer

“i forgot to ask but uh how did you feel when i brought up that day again” chase asked to which gert froze

frankly, it did open up a whole wound that she tried to erase but nevertheless it was an event that pretty much was the reason for all this

“im not going to lie to you, it did open up images that i wanted to erase” gert admitted

“do you mind if you tell me what” chase asked carefully

“i was just reminded of us going downstairs, your parents telling us you had disappered, alex yelling and demanding for answers and nico sobbing. also i just remember me running away from alex’s house” gert pretty much had told him about the following minutes after the admission of his disapperence

“god im sorry for putting you through that, for putting everyone through all that pain” chase put his face in his hands

“its not your fault, your parents were the ones who did this in the first place” gert smiled sadly

“anything else” chase asked

“well i remember the months after no one could find you and your parents insisted on having a service for you even though they clearly knew what they had done” gert added

“wow” chase seemed to be overwhelmed with all the information

“the years after that, i kept writing you letters because i just missed you” gert smiled shyly

chase smiled softly back before shifting his feet, an action gert was used to when he got nervous and overwhelmed

“we have time to unpack everything you know, we don’t need to say everything today” gert squeezed his hand

“yeah” chase nodded

gert smiled softly before grabbing the control and picking a movie to watch and she was about to get up and go ask karolina if she wanted to join them before chase grabbed her hand

“hey uh if its alright with you. i want to share something” he asked

“yeah what’s up” gert sat back down again

“i want to tell you about what happened after i woke up in the hospital after the accident” chase said