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#can you tell I am rereading the books?
catofoldstones · 5 months
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Reading agot chapters of the stark sisters and coming to the conclusion that they hate each other in isolation from their parents’ understanding of them and society’s rigid expectations on them is idiotic as fuck. They are both classic products of their environments, both familial and social, and their feelings of each are heavily informed by these two things. Please take your Sansa and Arya hate each other because they’re antagonists, and are going to come head to head thematically in the later books, and dump it in the trash where it belongs.
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alexisarchived · 1 year
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FFFSHFHHJJKH LUCY DID YOU JUST CALL SEWARD, TUMBLRS FAVOURITE WET CAT, C A L M?
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vimbry · 1 year
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whimsylace · 1 month
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i fear im back into this godforsaken book again . . sigh . . hello outsiders people
😭😭i rmbmr most of my moots on here but i dont thinm they remember me
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griffinsmith · 2 years
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he is like a glass vase that is going to get to smashed with a hammer to me
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ravenousgf · 1 year
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LOCKWOOD AND CO. SHOW??????????
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nereidprinc3ss · 24 days
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come on home
in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid
inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers
wc 2857
warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending
a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3
She hung up on you. 
Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better. 
Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either. 
You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.  
So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.  
What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring. 
“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there. 
“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?” 
Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows. 
“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?” 
“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.” 
You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside. 
“Nice, nice. What else?” 
“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.” 
“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening. 
“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.” 
A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself. 
“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.” 
“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.” 
When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice. 
“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”  
You bite the inside of your cheek. 
“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.” 
“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice. 
“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.” 
Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better. 
“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.” 
Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry. 
“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.” 
“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless. 
“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.” 
Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart. 
“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.” 
Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again. 
“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle. 
Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life. 
“Then I’m on my way.” 
Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.  
After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime. 
You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.  
“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?” 
You shake your head and gasp a small sob. 
Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders. 
His hand smooths over the back of your hair. 
“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 
You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.  
Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear. 
“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.” 
“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight. 
“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?” 
“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.” 
There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.” 
You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea. 
Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave. 
“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.  
At least, until he goes home. 
Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up. 
“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.  
“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you. 
“That among other things.” 
“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?” 
The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does. 
“Okay.” 
It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.  
“Thanks,” you murmur.  
His lips pull into a melancholy smile. 
“Anytime.” 
There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.  
But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close. 
“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist. 
“I can’t do that, honey.” 
“Why not?” 
His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently. 
“Because we’re not together anymore.” 
“Why not?” 
Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is. 
Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down. 
“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.” 
In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.
“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.” 
He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke. 
“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.” 
You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again. 
“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.” 
Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales. 
“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.” 
When he kisses you, it feels like home. 
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tender-rosiey · 1 year
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Hii! Could you write another part of husband Sukuna? I really liked Rhymes and I just can’t stop rereading it (atp I have unhealthy obsession with sukuna fluff). If it’s bothering you no need to write it 💗
Wishing you amazing day/night 💗
that of flowers — sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: it makes me so happy that you liked rhymes, luv <33 hope you like this as well and have a wonderful day/night too 💕
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“sukuna, look!”
he sighs, “when I said we could go to the garden, I didn’t say you can trample over my stuff, woman.”
you stop in your track and sassily turn to him, “don’t act like you care about the flowers, mister.”
he grumbles, “I don’t,” and you notice his glance gravitate towards you, “I tend to be possessive over what’s mine, you know that.”
heat rises into your cheek as you look away.
his gaze never fails to fluster you; it’s so intense.
“a-anyways,” you quip before running to the flower field.
he merely watches you: he was never one for to participate in such active activities, save for fighting, of course.
he sees you kneel down and start to gently stroke the flowers’ petals with a soft smile on your face. you start thinking about something and he sees the way you brighten up at whatever idea you came up with.
you’re so obvious, he thinks, such an open book. but perhaps it’s just because he spent so much of his time with you, he even learned every single one of your mannerisms.
he knows when you’re sad, mad, excited, happy, and everything else.
it surprises you every single time, especially since he seems like the type to not care much about anything but his own desires.
so when you think back to all the moments he was able to tell your mood in a glance, you can’t help but laugh at how perceptive your husband is.
maybe it’s because of how observant he generally is, but, of course, it peaks during battles and matters related to you.
on the other hand, he thinks, til now, it’s all because of the amount of time he spent with you.
obviously, he would remember every detail about you, right?
both of you failed to realize in the beginning that one of his desires, that soon came to be, was one to protect and love you—a love befitting of the king of curses, not overly affectionate, but it’s there.
he claims he is not obvious with what’s on his mind, but when you run to him, smiling with a flower crown and hopping from happiness, he can’t help but sigh contently.
though no ears hear it.
“sukuna! what do you think of the flower crown?” you beam and he grunts while eyeing said flower crown.
“it doesn’t matter to me.”
“well, it should,” you smile mischievously, “especially since I made it only for you.”
his eyes twitch, “I am not wearing that ridiculous thing; I am a feared king.”
you grab your chest dramatically and fall to the ground, “you would deny your wife of such a simple request?!”
“all I want is of you to wear this crown I wholeheartedly made for you, my king!”
another thing you noticed that you’ve come to learn that the fastest way to make sukuna do something you want is to either compliment him or act dramatic.
so it’s not surprise to you when he sighs before sticking his hand out.
“oh? what is it that you want, my dear husband?”
“don’t antagonize me, woman; give me the damn crown!”
you chuckle and rest a hand on your hip while you wave the flower crown in your other hand, “you mean this?”
sukuna is a man who does not need to do much to get what he wants.
accordingly, he simply crosses his arms and glares at you.
eventually you start giggling and finally give him the flower crown.
he wears it, albeit reluctantly, and he says nothing more. his gaze still never leaves you.
you cup his face, “you look lovely.”
he quirks an eyebrow, a frown ‘adorning’ his face, “I am the king of curses; I am not ‘lovely’.”
you press a kiss to his cheek, “to me you’re and it’s nothing bad.”
he smirks, “oh? why’s that?”
you then hug him tightly, “because I am your wife!”
he grunts.
“you’re trouble,” he grumbles before pulling you close gently—as a man like him could— and kissing the top of your head, “and nothing more.”
a giggle escapes your lips, “still, you keep me around.”
“against my will; trust me.”
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will face the wrath of the rock
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diordeer · 2 months
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౨ৎ MISTY
“when i wander through this wonderland alone, never knowing my right foot from my left, my hat from my glove. im too misty, and too much in love” - ella fitzgerald (smau)
contains: charlie bushnell x bookworm!reader
description: just sent in my yearbook quote, i feel like i put it in a separate post though, OMG also i cant even go to the laufey concert my friend is selling the tickets bc shes also stressed about exams (she’s the one that bought them)
requested by: anonymous
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Liked by leahsavajeffries, iamcharliebushnell and others
yn.ln if u dont find urself a book worthy bf its not worth it
tagged iamcharliebushnell
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user1 they are so cute i CANT do this
user2 they make me believe in romance
↳ user3 if they ever break up i think i wont even bother trying to get a boyfriend
iamcharliebushnell what do u mean book bf 🩷
↳ user8 she means u popped out of a book bc ur so scrumptious
↳ yn.ln HELLO?
↳ iamcharliebushnell if u say so 🤷‍♀️
↳ dior.n.goodjohn EVERYONE!! STOP BOOSTING HIS EGO!!
aryansimhadri what are u reading?!
↳ yn.ln ok ok RN cleopatra and frankenstein
↳ user5 the cover of it is so beautiful
↳ user6 okay literature nerd
↳ yn.ln was that directed to me or @user5
↳ user5 GUYS YN TAGGED ME IN A COMMENT I CAN DIE HAPPY
↳ yn.ln pls dont die boo
↳ user5 for u i will live eternally
↳ user7 that was very poetic
user4 okayy the lightingg i see u 🤩
walker.scobell “book bf” he is the VILLAIN? like percy is THE book bf
↳ user7 you have a great point
leahsavajeffries u guys are so cute!
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iamcharliebushnell reading for my gf!
tagged yn.ln
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user1 can we appreciate his photo taking skills though like this man makes all of yns photos looks soo pretty
↳ yn.ln i think its just the fact im in it (i had to give him a very harsh photo taking lesson)
yn.ln baby steps 🥰
leahsavajeffries how… cute 😀
user2 THEM >>
user3 okay but can we talk about how GORGEOUS yn is for a hot sec
↳ user4 ikr LIKE give us our secrets!!
dior.n.goodjohn i’d read for u, in fact i AM reading for u @yn.ln
↳ yn.ln what are u suggesting 🤨
↳ dior.n.goodjohn you know what im suggesting boo 😘
↳ yn.ln okayy girl i mean hmu 🤷‍♀️
↳ iamcharliebushnell ⁉️⁉️
walker.scobell does he ever take those sunglasses off
↳ yn.ln i actually dont think so
user5 hes such a cutie patootie pie
↳ yn.ln right
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yn.ln its ok i forgive u for not being a reader 😋
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iamcharliebushnell i didnt know i had to be forgiven in the first place 😣
↳ yn.ln yes, yes you did
↳ iamcharliebushnell hold on hold on though, i literally reread percy jackson book 1
↳ yn.ln charlie… you HAD to reread it for the show
dior.n.goodjohn so u forgive him but fail to acknowledge my efforts for u?
↳ yn.ln ur so much better than him dw
↳ dior.n.goodjohn 😘
↳ iamcharliebushnell SHOULD I BE CONCERNED?
user3 JEALOUSYY JEALOUSSYY
↳ user4 i cant tell if my heart shattered at this post or build together in so many pieces bc loves real and they prove it
walker.scobell if he can get a girlfriend who accepts him being dumb, so can i
↳ yn.ln walker i think half the population of 12-15 year olds want to date you, you’re good
↳ iamcharliebushnell did you just call me dumb?
↳ user1 being dumb does not mean u cant read!
↳ user2 ok no need to start a war
taglist: @lostinhisworld @lizziesfirstwife @auttumnsayshi @silkenthusiasts @taygrls @kidkrowk @kanojous @niktwazny303 @m00ng4z3r @highfidelities @b0ok-lover @vamplyle @xyzstar @urmomsgirlfriend1
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sanji-piss-hell · 5 months
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ZOSAN FIC REC
Here is some of my fave zosan fics. Some of these I read years ago and so I don't fully remember what theyre about but they we're good enough that I still have strong emotional attachments when I see the name. Most of them are things I've read recently. Literally all I do all day is homework and have an app tts fanfics to me like an audio book so there's quite a few of recs here. I am not the best at summeries but just trust me bro these are GOOD SHIT. I only provide the best. What I consider a good fic: - Takes place in the one piece world (I don't like modern aus) - Characters stay in character or if they do have changes from their canon portrayal there is a justifiable reason from within the story. - Solid story telling and arcs (even the shorter fics) - The Zosan dynamic is kept mostly how it is in canon they fight and bicker. (I know some like when they're soft with eachother like a loving married couple. You won't find much of that here) - Some of these have pervy sanji, que nose bleeds and ogling. With that out of the way here's the list!! Now to my fave zosan fic of all time and ironically enough the only fic taking place in a modern setting: Life is fine series. TW: Drug abuse, heavy angst, depression I have reread this twice and forced a friend to read it too. It is so amazing not just for the zosan but for the genuinely good story telling. You follow zoro reeling from his sudden loss of relationship with Sanji and falling down a...Well uh, path. It's fucked it's dark it's depressing and its fucking riviting. Alot of the time reading this you're just like WHY DID SANJI LEAVE HIM WHAT IS GOING ON??? Honestly I need to reread this again. Onto softer fics to heal your heart after that one: Honor in limits, his strengths in weakness By Hawksbrood
“Fucking hell cook, what happened to you?” Zoro demanded, voice low so as not to disturb the others sleeping nearby.
Sanji rolled his eyes. “What do you think? I told you we got in a fight earlier.”
“Not that, your fucking feet!”
The cook snarled at that, crushing his cigarette in his teeth. “What the fuck do you mean, my feet? They’re just feet!”
Zoro’s eyes widened, looking at the bruised flesh before him. This wasn’t that.
This was just so good and cute. I appreciate watching zoro appreciate sanji. They take care of eachother but in a way where theyre both still them yeah know? I appreciate how sanji is written letting himself be vulnerable but understanding that he's always gonna be crass cause it's just a part of who he is.
come on, come on (turn a little faster) by donutsandcoffee
The one where everyone thinks they’re dating, Sanji is oblivious, and Zoro takes everything in stride.
Sometimes a love story can go in reverse.
I reread this one recently and it's just soft and sweet. I like watching sanji flounder around. The gay panic is great.
a complete guide to falling in love by ThousandSunny Sanji was trained in the Bridal Arts; this does not go unnoticed by the rest of his crew. I read this like 3 years ago and I dont remember much but I do remember loving it!
Part Timer By 8ball Sanji really, really doesn't want to give Zoro a job at his restaurant. Zoro doesn't really even want to work there in the first place, but, well, there’s this thing with Sanji, and this thing with feelings and the whole thing is pretty damn stupid all together. Zeff just wants grandkids. He’s too old for this bullshit anyways. I am sure everyone knows 8ball very well they're like zosan famous but still just in case this one is really fucking good. Also read this 3 years ago so I don't remember much but I consider this a zosan classic. Onto the rated R Grand Buffet by asyndese Drunk fic!! If there was one thing Zoro knew, it was that you could always trust Sanji's inclinations to do a beautiful 180 as soon as he was drunk. Luckily, Zoro was more than equipped to handle it. I spent. 30 minutes. Trying to find this fic again because that's how much I loved it. It altered my brain chemistry. Sanji getting a nose job during sex is just. aaaaaaaaa. Read it. Cannot suggest enough. Horrors not yet known by Trixree
Sanji doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it before, is the thing. Of all the times he has seen Zoro shirtless (in battle, mostly) he just… never noticed. The problem is, once he has noticed, Sanji can’t seem to stop noticing. And neither can anyone else.
In which Zoro has a nipple piercing and Sanji has a Problem.
I recently reread this and the first time I read it I didn't really get the whole gender sanji shit. Now though???? Yeah another fic that rewired my brain chemistry. This fic opened doors for me it exposed me to a new world. Also sanji gay panic is in here and I live for that. It can be pretty raunchy (love that too) Three rounds with a tiger by KobochaKitsune Another drunk Fic!! also in modern times damn maybe I lied sdklfj
Liquid courage, drunken decisions, terrible euphemisms, and texts from last night, or: how to think entirely with the booze (and your dick) for once.
Or: By the time Sanji got to the party, everyone was already drunk.
I read this 3 years ago (theres a trend going on can you tell??) It also rewired my brain chemistry (from this point on just assume all of these nsfw fics rewired my brain chemistry each of these opened doors for me. This one opened the doors to bottom zoro.) Fucking 20k words of just pwp. I dont even know how the author did that bro like damn. Nature of things by stark_black Tw: Sex work and prostitutes When the Sunny docks, Sanji and Zoro sometimes seek out relief in some not so savory places. After crossing paths in town on more than one occasion, the two find they have a lot more in common than they would like to admit. I hunted this down for like fucking hours a couple of weeks ago because it was that good. Stark_Black has a fucking library worth of zosan fics this one is a classic to me. But if you want more content check out his other fics I think they have like over 100 zosan its kinda insane. Coregasm by Yakarmi
Sanji discovers that sometimes, Zoro has orgasms while he lifts.
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“You…” Sanji trailed off, gaze turning down as he licked his lips. Pink tongue darting out nervously. “You orgasm when you exercise?”
Zoro clenched his jaw. Shrugged. Trying to act nonchalant.
“Sometimes.”
Sanji’s eye went wide, and like his mouth had suddenly been liberated from his brain, blurted out, “that’s so fucking hot,” before clamping his hands over his mouth. His cigarette fell from his mouth, bouncing soundlessly on the ground.
Bro bestie, the way this put me on nose bleed Sanji. Perv sanji. I need that gif thats like mmm cause man this is good. Ending this fic rec with a BANG we have
Contingencies and Congruencies by PeaceSignDisasterBi
Somewhere between finishing the bottles of alcohol and mugs of beer, the crew comes together to create a contingency plan for something that may-or-may-not-happen during their time on the Grand Line and beyond. Usopp thinks it's more likely than bumping into zombies, Zoro wants to stay out of this, Sanji is just going with the flow, and Nami may or may not keep things legally binding and above board with consistent consensual acquiescence. Robin finds it all amusing.
The damn chart stays in the locked drawer in her desk, split into three neat categories: Devil Fruit Powers, Science, and Magic. Each represents whatever they're hit with but also categorizes the amount of self-control the person has during.
AKA: 5 times Zoro and Sanji had to help each other as Consensual Helpers of Dubious Consent + 1 Time There Was Nothing Dubious At All
Ok this is 152k long its pretty insane. It regoes over the arcs so throughly so carefully that I literally had to question my memory because I havent experienced alot of these arcs in a while (it's one of the reasons im rewatching one piece). I will say despite how amazing and well written this is I had a hard time comprehending sometimes. now I was sick at the time of reading this so that might be why but sometimes the way things were phrased felt like yoda talking. I think it's just me though. I'm not used to big words :( And thats a wrap!! These arent even all the ones I wanted to include I have at least 20 more off the top of my head but I'll save that for another day. I hope you find joy in these fics Like i did I'll def do another one of these as cause I didnt even touch my sanji centric fics or germa 66 or just in general the best sanji fanfic writers. (Mentioned some of them like 8ball, thousand sunny and donuts and coffee.) Best of luck to yall and let me know what you think!
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cameronspecial · 2 months
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Let Me Calm Your Mind, Angel
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Description of Anxiety
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.5K
Summary: Y/N loves to read, except her brain loves to give her a hard time and Rafe wants to be able to calm her anxiety.
Masterlist
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Y/N knows she can’t remember every single detail of the book she reads, but her anxiety tells her that she should. It likes to blame the fact that she speed-reads for making her forget, instead of being a human who can’t hold everything in her mind. Sometimes, she can let it go. Other times, she is riddled with anxiousness and tries to hold on to every single event in the book. Y/N sits on the armchair in the frat house’s living room, reading her book in solitude. This is her second reading of the book. Kelce comes into the living room and starts up a conversation with the girl, which she doesn’t mind as she puts her book down. However, once Kelce is gone, her mind gets on her about reliving every aspect of the book she is reading. The couch creaks under the release of pressure from Kelce rising and leaving the room. Her palm digs into her closed sockets. She can easily remember what happens at the beginning of the book, yet as she gets closer to the middle, the order gets a little more fuzzy. She keeps rearranging the order in which things happen and her mind is screaming at her for being careless. Rafe finds her with her eyes closed and hands covering her face. He spots the book on the coffee table before her, knowing exactly what is wrong with her. 
He picks her up and sits where she once was seated. Her bum falls into his lap and he pulls her hands away from her face. “You don’t need to memorize everything about the book,” he mutters to her. She sighs with a slight nod, “I know, but my brain is telling me that I am missing something. And I feel like if I don’t remember it then I didn’t actually read the book.” Rafe’s mouth presses against her forehead and he nods against her skin. “Let me calm your mind, Angel,” he offers. “Did your eyes glance over the words of each page you have read?” Her head bobs. “Can you tell me the plot of the book?” She again indicates that she can. “You always tell me that you reread books to be reminded of certain details of the book. You say if you wanted a play-by-play of the plot, then you would reread the summary you write for the books you read. So tell me, did you come out from reading this book with one more specific detail that you didn’t remember before?” She looks up at him with a smile, “Yeah, um… It’s an enemies-to-lovers book and before they get together, he makes her a plate to eat when they are given their food at a restaurant. It was a family-style restaurant. It was cute.” “Then it sounds to me that your goal of reading the book again was achieved,” he hmms. This helps dull the criticizing voice in her head, “You’re right.” “Are you enjoying the book and do you remember some of the stuff you are reading?” he asks. 
“Yeah.”
“Well, then tell that beautiful brain of yours to leave you alone. I don’t like it when it bothers you like that.”
“It’s harder to do than you think, Rafe.”
“I know, so how about I read you the rest of your book and you can blame me if you forget anything, Angel.”
“I think that is an acceptable compromise.” 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
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controld3vil · 8 days
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chaotic duo
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pairing(s): dune cast x actor!reader (platonic), oscar isaac x actor!reader
synopsis: requested by this ask!
⤷ alt: even your on-screen son can't deny how delightful his on-screen parents were.
notes: absolutely no shade to jessica ferguson i adore her too much. reader is considered to have fem pronouns. ALSO ive been feeling iffy about trying to write for dune characters?? personally, although i love writing these actor!reader stories, writing for the actual characters i feel would be more challenging. dune's still pretty new to me but i kinda wanna give it a shot if i can make a good storyline T-T
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It all started with the Dune Cast Q&A brought together by Nerdist. Timothee Chalamet and Denis Villeneuve had just finished chatting with the host, Stephen Colbert about their perspectives on Paul's character. Much emphasis had gone on the young actor's performance. And Denis's decision to cast such a well-experienced one.
After finishing up their last question together, Stephen decides to introduce two additional members. "Timothee let's bring out the man and the woman who play your parents, Duke Leto Atreides and Lady Jessica." A transition between screens to display your camera view and Oscar's. He introduces both your names.
"Hi!" You grin at the camera, comfortably leaning against one of the arms of your chair. Similar to everyone else's backdrop, yours was pitch gray, covering all but your silhouette and chair.
"Hey Stephen," Oscar greets at ease, as you proceed to wave to each of the people seen onscreen.
It cuts immediately to the host gesturing in continuation for a question. "Tell me and the audience about Duke Leto Atreides. What do we need to know?"
"He's the father and human. I think that's the biggest thing and uh under incredible pressure to save his family. Save his house but to adapt to this new existential threat situation which is moving to this strange planet," Your fellow costar puts into short. Short and concise was what was expected.
Content with his answer, Stephen moves the attention to you. He calls out your name, eagerly. "Rereading the books uh- right now, I am struck by how much of the story- uh the backstory and the action story is driven by the decisions Lady Jessica makes." A smile grows on your face, knowing how much fun was a character to play for you.
Along his last few words, you find yourself nodding in agreement. "I'm impressed with that you, Stephen actually read the books again!" An instant grin comes from the said man. "But it's all applause to Denny- he highlighted this from the book. In the film, her decisions basically create, fractures and disrupts everything."
"Best parents ever," In a low whisper, Timothee murmurs and the five of you burst into short chuckles and snickers.
"The best you could ever have!" You clapped your hands together, shaking them above your head in victory. And when the screen expands to show everyone's reactions, the audience can noticeably pinpoint Oscar's playful eye-rolling.
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Another fun interview you had the pleasure of sharing was with Grazia UK. It was in a more comfortable setting. With you and Oscar in a lounge room, with the Zoom camera on. While the female interviewer complimenting a kind smile.
"Can I ask you something," Not within a second of the conversation, you rose up with a peculiar question. "Do you remember his beard?" Your costar beside you, looks away in disappointment. Even raising his hand to emphasize his discouraged state.
"A bit yes..."
"Yeah,"
"Yes!"
"Why? It was an impressive beard," Sort of clueless really, the interviewer says, of why you wanted to the topic up.
"Yeah, it was impressive!" Oscar looks back and forth between you and the camera, directing towards the woman on the other side. While you shriveled in embarrassment, leaning your head behind his shoulder, with a few snorts of laughter. "She doesn't even remember if I had a beard or not in the movie! She just saw it."
"Quite a prominent beard!"
"Yes yes, well I can remember so much," You chaste, leaning closer, locking eyes with your costar. Threatening really in a playful way.
"We shot together for a few months! How could you not remember?!" He exclaims, raising both his hands in the air in exasperation. You puff, adorning a pouty-like look.
"I work with what's in front of me," you turn to address the interviewer, pointing at Oscar accusingly. Because much contrast to what he looked months ago, he no longer had that impressive beard. He was clean-shaven, much to your display.
Next to you, Oscar scoffs. "Apparently not!" Bumping shoulders with you as you fought back, poking him many times obnoxiously.
You both later discussed a provoking quote referenced multiple times from Dune posters. Fear is the mind killer. Truly a simple yet intriguing phrase that fitted well with the film. And in generally, you and Oscar compared each others quotes from personal experience.
"I guess you could combine them together," Taking a sip out of your glass, you eyed at Oscar. He hums back and smooths his hands comfortably down his hips.
"It will pass and love prevails!" He cheerfully expresses. Even from afar, the interviewer can notice how much fun you two were having with the question.
"Right and, it plays perfectly with the film," You add onto your little spiel, nodding as you go, "Besides the fact that- you know, fear is the mind killer."
The male actor lets out a long sigh. "Makes you forget how violent the movie is."
On the other side of the screen, the blonde interviewer shrugs her shoulders. "Well- it's only included in small parts in the movie."
It was your turn to hum, dragging out the M sound. "I think maybe the film focusses too much on romance."
A caught off cough comes from Oscar as he tries to his best to dismiss his your sarcastic comment. "I feel like there should've been more of it."
"Really?!" The shot pans to your exaggerated shocked gaze. You then turn to look at the interviewer. "He has no idea how to write a movie." Instantaneously the male actor bursts out laughing, shaking his head back and forth in little denial. Even you couldn't hold it together and giggled a little.
"You play Timothee's parents so spent a lot of time with him. What is the most interesting thing we do not about Timothee Chalamet?" The interviewer prompts, having their arms supported on top the their desk with pure keenness.
Pursing your lips together in concentration, your attention turns towards your partner. "Well coming from me- I mean I don't know if people know this about him or not- but he's very open hearted." Oscar continues, "And me, having to play his father- hence the beard!"
"Ah!" Giving more emphasis, you raised your brow in recollection.
He goes on comparing the analogy of having to play Duke Leto as a powerful leader of a House. Without his people and court, he wouldn't resemble much of an prestige leader. However Oscar later mentions that Timothee's performance was the catalyst to their relationship look authentic. He is young yet incredibly sympathetic towards what's to be done for the film. His time with both of you really sold your relationship as a family, you'd think.
"So that's a very generous thing to do for a young actor. And I was impressed and admired that," In the background, you can be heard mumbling in agreement. Your partner shifts his posture, facing and expecting you to go next.
Licking your lips, you took one last glance at him before focusing strictly at the Zoom camera. "I think for me, to have a young actor like him- he's very driven about it all. When he's on and off screen, Timothee's just focused- he's very serious and concentrates heavily on what Denny says- and I can say I respect that." You punctuate your point, tapping lightly on your knee. "And I play his mother you know, and I try to accommodate with that. I play along and we work until we find a good rhythm with each other." The older woman on the screen seemed enamored by your compliments regarding your costar. Yet her eyes quickly makes it's way to Oscar, sitting quietly and listening to you ramble.
His laidback posture showed how greatly he took your words in. You grab your glass and take a quick sip before hearing him say, "We raised him well." Taking your hand in both of his as a sign of pride.
A delightful chuckle comes from both you and the interviewer while your partner gives a satisfied grin. "We really did!"
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The media did not need proof to know of your enjoyed time during the production of Dune. In fact, multiple vlogs and documentaries about the film had fans and viewers alike become fond of your positive and laid back attitude about it all. Despite playing a calculating character such as Lady Jessica, you were nothing of serious when on screen with your costars.
"Welcome to Arrakis!" You popped into frame, wearing an exquisite dress, costumed by one of the designers. It was golden yellow with chains running down from the bottom half of your face to your chest. A faint veil covered your head but for right now, you had it placed on your hair. You spread your arms with anticipation for the cameraman to pan around your surroundings. "It's sunny today so I think we'd be out here for some time." You moved extremely close to the camera, before moving out of the frame to the side.
Abu Dhabi was bliss. The production and crew worked diligently day and night working in the deserts. And on this particular day, most of the cast had been present as well for the introduction of House Atriedes on Arrakis.
A few shots slowly pans from the crew's tents and Denny far into the sandy mountains as he speaks with Timothee. Another shot slyly captures you showing Josh Brolin an unknown video, sideways. Which somehow made him cackle very enthusiastically, holding his stomach to air as you quickly pat his back multiple of times. In all, everyone of the cast members were having a blast in the dry outskirts of the unknown.
"Hello," Brolin pops in another clip where he stands, wearing the Atreides armor. Under a massive shade area, a few people can be spotted in the background, moving equipment and conversing with others. From afar, the people filming the documentary can be heard presenting a few questions for him to touch upon. "Ah what do I think about Lady Jessica being played by," He says your name sincerely.
The video cuts to you having a conversation with your on and screen husband. A hand covering above your face to shield yourself from the sun, while Oscar tries to move where the light is hitting you as the best he could.
"I mean a phenomenal actor like her playing in that kind of role is guaranteed to have an amazing performance. She's- We've known each for a long time since Sicario and with Denny," The male actor softly grins, staring at where you were. "But Oscar on the other hand, eh- not so much." His tone becoming monotonous, as if the shift in topic was distasteful to the touch.
"Whatcha say, Gurney?!" A scream echoes and it's Oscar, cupping both his hands into an O.
The older actor couldn't keep it together before breaking into frivolous giggles. "Nothing, my lord!" He takes one last glance back before seeing you give him two big thumbs up with a silly smirk. "No in all seriousness, those two are just the best! You can never have a bad day with them."
Another prominent section in the video fans adored was with the actors that played Duncan Idaho and Dr. Liet Kynes. This time they are situated in what looked like the structure of Arrakeen. Where all ornithopters were supposedly stationed and the introduction of Dr. Kynes.
"They're so mom and dad," Jason Momoa shaking his head playfully with his hands clamped together. Both him and Sharon Duncan-Brewster wore still suits unlike many other extras who wore Atreides armor. "I mean- they're playing Paul's parents- but in real life it's just so different."
"Definitely more chaotic," Brewster jumps in, earning a hum from her costar. "They act nothing like them."
A cool shot from different location displays you in a dark with Timothee. It was the scene after Paul is put to test to by the Reverent Mother. It was a chilling scene yes, but in post production, many realize how unprofessional you sometimes were even in the most serious times.
The cameras were not live however the film crew were about to pan to you gesturing back and forth with your on-screen son. It was a interactive and intriguing conversation you both were having. You looking in purely engaged with what the French actor was saying. After a few sentences being spoken, it looked as though you chided a teasing joke which gave the reaction of Timothee slightly snickering, backing away slowly.
"I mean do they look like my parents? No," The young actor states shortly. It looked as though the clip was shot right after capturing your cute moment togehter. "But I'd say- yeah Oscar Isaac's a great actor and- to be able to play my dad is pretty cool. Even though we look nothing alike." Nervous laughter spouts as he clears his throat.
"I feel like I get the resemblances from my mom though," Affectionately stating your name, "You can tell where I got my powers, good looks from." Momentarily readjusting his collar as he takes a quick look from behind, knowing your footsteps.
"See? I'm the favorite parent!" In hushed squeal, you wrapped your hands around Timothee's shoulders, earning a lovable grin back.
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weirdmorefics · 8 months
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So Very Basic- Spencer Reid X Reader
A/N- This may have just been an excuse for me to infodump about Pride and Prejudice but I swear the fic is still good! Reader is also very Autistic coded but I am Autistic so that happens a lot when I write hope you don't mind.
Pronouns- She/her
Tooth-Rooting Fluff
Word Count- 822
Summary- Spencer judging your book tastes on the jet back home.
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Spencer and I have made it a habit of sitting next to each other every flight home. We usually talk about the recent books we have finished or are currently reading. Sometimes we just sit in silence and read together. These are my favorite moments in my life I never feel calmer in the jet with Spencer by my side or across from me. This time it felt different though Spencer's eyes have not left me once I swear he hadn't flipped a page of his book.
"Hey Spence, What's your book about?" I say trying to hint at the fact that I can obviously see he has not flipped a single page.
He seemed startled by my sudden question but proceeded to tell me the entire synopsis of his book.
I slam my book shut and shout, "You have read that book already!"
He seemed perplexed by my reaction "There is no rule against rereading books I think authors would prefer you reread their works."
I groan, "There is when you spend the whole flight staring at me distracting me from my book."
Spencer flushes and I am one hundred percent sure I am right now.
"Hotch the children are fighting again!" Rossi shouts like a mother making me shake my head at him.
"Hotch Spence is poking meee," Emily teases in her best Y/N impersonation. JJ of course joins in playing the role of Spencer, "I am not Y/n." She draws out my name.
Spencer and I look as red as two tomatoes and my safe space has turned into an inescapable nightmare.
He leans in and whispers in my ear, "You know this is your fault for picking the most basic Jane Austen novel."
I gasp dramatically which of course just causes more stares from the team.
Derek sighed knowing this Y/n gasp all too well, "Pretty boy what are you doing offending Y/n? Do you want to listen to another one of her defensive rants for thirty minutes?"
"I quite enjoy them," Spencer smiles.
Rossi rolls his eyes, "You would."
I stand up, "Pride and Prejudice is beautiful from its book, it's movie, and it's BBC Special!"
JJ sighs," Here she goes."
"The drama in the book is spectacular as it delves into each sister's feelings about marriage and how at the time it was their only option. Don't even get me started on the twenty-seven with no prospects speech! Oh my goodness Darcy is the perfect match for Elizabeth with them both being so headstrong makes for the best enemies to lovers! Speaking of Darcy in the film when he does that hand-clench thing it was not even in the book! It wasn't even scripted! Which made me feel he was the perfect actor for Darcy he understood the role perfectly!" I ramble out putting my hand on my chest the rest of the team is annoyed at another one of my outbursts but Spencer is looking at me like I am the only person on the plane and I flush when I meet his eyes.
Hotch shouts at me, "L/N would you sit down we are about to go into a patch of turbulence." He of course says this too late and I embarrassingly fall on top of Spencer.
I immediately try to scramble off Spencer but he holds me there. I look away from him trying to hide my flushed face and he asks if I am alright.
"Yup, just mortified but everybody needs a good daily dose of that am I right." I smile trying to play it off but I play with my hair a common tell of mine that everyone in the BAU knows by now.
"You know I have never seen the Pride and Prejudice film," Spencer says slyly.
My eyes light up "You must see it! It's on Netflix I have seen it over a hundred times! I can probably quote all the words by now."
"I actually don't have Netflix I don't really watch television," He rubs the back of his neck.
"That's fine I could totally bring my laptop to you to watch it! Or we could watch it at my apartment!" I ramble out coming off more excited than I meant to.
"That sounds great," Spencer smiles, "Do you really know all the words you could recite some now?" He teases.
I turn the deepest red I think I have ever been in my life and of course, Derek has to jump in.
"Oh pretty boy has moves," he whistles.
Spence rolls his eyes "Shut up Morgan."
"Could we all shut up? Some of us like to rest so we can actually focus on work when we get back." Hotch says in his typical annoyed-with-us voice.
"I guess reciting Pride and Prejudice to you will have to wait," I whisper into Spencer's ear it was finally my time to make him blush.
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fahye · 9 months
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book recs: august '23
(I want to try and do these posts more frequently because I DEARLY miss yelling about books, txitter is [poop emoji]-ing, and bluesky is promising but I don't have much of an audience there yet)
ok! stuff freya has read recently and enjoyed:
A FIRE BORN OF EXILE by aliette de bodard -- did you enjoy nirvana in fire? this is for YOU. it's a revenge story set in aliette's xuya space opera universe, with a pile of complicated characters with mixed or obscured motives, a sapphic romance, and just really incredible use of worldbuilding and politics.
THE SLEEPING SOLDIER by aster glenn gray -- I am an enormous sucker for aster's historical m/m romances, and this one was incredible. a union soldier goes to sleep in 1865 and wakes up in 1965, and his new college roommate has a series of gay crises about it. sweet, exuberant, well researched. both a wonderful romance and an absolutely fascinating examination of male friendships and homosexuality in two different historical time periods.
A DEADLY EDUCATION by naomi novik -- doing a reread of the first two scholomance books before I dive into the third. these books are so disgustingly tailored to ME, a huge fan of magical academia stories with a truly deliciously unnecessary level of worldbuilding detail about how the magic works (and how the school is trying to kill you).
BATH HAUS by p.j. vernon -- a man goes to a gay bathhouse, cheating on his partner, and narrowly escapes being murdered. things get worse from there. I can only recommend this to you if you enjoy thrillers that STRESS YOU THE FUCK OUT, which I normally don't; I nearly put it down a couple of times, but I HAD to know what was going on. it's a masterclass in propulsive tension and does some really cool things with unreliable narration.
HAVEMERCY by jaida jones and danielle bennett -- seven hundred years late to this party, but OH MY GOD. this is the completely gay political/military fantasy of my dreams (the YEARNING), plus there are magical-mechanical dragons. I will be devouring the other books in this series in short order.
EVERY VERSION OF YOU by grace chan -- a beautiful and fascinating literary scifi book about humanity and family and love, and being given the choice to upload your consciousness to a digital paradise as the planet dies around you. unsurprisingly it deals with some heavy stuff, but it's fantastic. and australian!
A THIEF AND A GENTLEMAN by arden powell -- another m/m romance in arden's flos magicae series. the title alone is probably enough to tell you why I enjoyed it, but I especially liked the way it kept subverting my expectations in favour of more chewy emotional honesty and complexity.
STRONG FEMALE CHARACTER by fern brady -- a memoir by a scottish comedian about being diagnosed with autism in her thirties, and her life up to that point. funny and chaotic and an all-around amazing read. I loved fern on taskmaster and I love her even more now.
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crowsnqueens · 9 months
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Bibliophile; Pt. i
Kaz Brekker x Bibliophile!wife!reader
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Summary: Kaz returns from a meeting to find his wife (that was meant to attend) with a book in her hand and a drink at her side. Unfortunately, a fellow crow sees their interaction and is itching to find out more.
an: i had so much fun writing this bro y’all don’t even KNOW
Warnings: Kaz can tolerate reader’s touch, alcohol and drinking it, little bit of irritated Kaz, fluff for DAYS, reader uses she/her pronouns and is described as female, marriage??, the book “The Language of Thorns” is presumed in canon, the crows are about 22 in this (which is what i imagine to be in the show), OOC Kaz (i tried y’all) I may have missed some 💁🏻‍♀️but enjoy!!
Kaz sighed as he scanned the room for his wife, finding that she was in fact, not present.
“Have any of you seen Y/n?” he tooka large breath,”Never mind, let’s continue.”
“But boss, doesn’t she have a big chunk of the job?” Jesper swirled a pistol around his fingers then re-holstered the weapon with ease and precision.
“I can inform her later.” His teeth slightly grit, his hands working in the beginnings of a loose fist.
“As we were…”
~
Once the meeting was finished, Kaz gathered up the papers to re-place them back with his files, and shrugged his coat off. Descending the stairs of the slat, he noticed some of the books on the shelf had slanted in their places, as if a support had been pulled from under them.
Curious, he smirked.
he decended the stairs further to the crow club’s nightly regulars either gambling or drinking, conversing or laughing, scheming or wishing. But among them all, he found a familiar face in a quiet secluded corner, with a book and a glass of Kvas.
Continuing his way across the floor of his club, he stopped to ask one of the other Dregs about the upcoming job.
Slowly from her corner, Y/n heard a certain man’s voice and found him in discussion with the woman who tended the bar named Sylvi. They were presumably discussing a new job or a previous one, but nothing other than work. She knew that, but she still couldn’t help but keep an eye on the interaction.
Eventually she grew tired of surveying her husband’s every move, and returned to her book. “The Language of Thorns” is a collection of six fairytales and myths she had been read as a child, and when she found it on the shelf she just had to reread it.
“You look invested.” Kaz’s voice softened from his previous tone with the other woman.
“Oh I am, this book is very good. I used to read it quite a lot when I was young.” She smiled over the top of the book, knowing exactly what he would bring up next.
“Was there anything else you needed to do or, attend possibly, this evening? That you perhaps weren’t there for?”
“Oh there was this meeting, yes, my dear husband told my to meet him at 9 bells and it must have slipped my mind.” She smirked in the taller boy’s direction over her book.
“I’ll make sure to tell him about your predicament.” Kaz sat beside his wife, grabbing her hand that was laying on the couch.
“She is forgiven.” He placed a kiss to her knuckles and smiled lightly at her.
“Thank you, Mijn liefje.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and Kaz kissed her head.
“Of course, schatje.”
Little did the two know, a sharpshooter watched and observed their interaction, slowly piecing together that their relationship entailed more than expected.
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whumpback-wail · 5 months
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06 -  Embrace
Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader) - TW/CW in masterlist
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IMPORTANT NOTICE: Reminder that this fanfic contains dark and mature themes. The TW/CW are in the masterlist and are constantly updated as I add each chapter. Please reread the warnings, proceed only after you reread the warnings. If you don't like/can't handle the topics mentioned in the TW/CW, please DO NOT read. This work is 100000% fictional and any similarities to real life people and events are purely coincidental, and none of the characters (especially the villains) are real. Again, please DO NOT read if you are not certain you can handle these topics or are in a bad place mentally. Minors are strictly forbidden. I only create content, and I am not responsible for your personal content preference and moderation. If you think you will not like this story, please just scroll away. You have been warned.
The snow fell slowly, painting the streets of Fontaine white. Wriothesley's black jacket a stark contrast that stuck out against the white landscape as he briskly walked towards the hospital.
(y/n)...
The anger had slowly subsided, taking its place was a mix of guilt, worry, and something else he couldn't put a finger on. All he wanted that moment was just to hold her in his arms again, and let her feel safe.
Like muscle memory, he walked straight towards her room, but was stopped by a nurse.
“Your Grace, (y/n)’s room has been moved to a different one, a fire seemed to have started there but we managed to catch it before it caused too much damage.”
He cussed under his breath, “where’s (y/n)? Is she okay?”
The nurse nodded, “she’s alright, just a bit shaken. She told us fire suddenly burst out of the book by her nightstand just as she was reaching for it.”
And we’ve only got the information on vision injections today, what’s with this timing.
“Take me to her room.”
“Certainly, right this way, your Grace.”
The nurse, while explaining to him everything that happened, led him to a different floor from (y/n)’s previous room. He immediately knew which room (y/n) would be in once he spotted Navia’s 2 men in front of the door, who promptly stood up and gave him a salute, to which he nodded politely.
“Oh right,” Wriothesley turned to the nurse just as he was entering the room, “there are some new updates for everyone we rescued from that facility, one of Spina di Rosula’s men will be here soon with a copy of the files. Guys might need them for medical purposes.”
When he entered the room, his eyes immediately landed on (y/n), who he initially thought was asleep, until she opened her eyes. She must have noticed his grim expression, because she immediately sat up.
“Wriothesley? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
He shook his head, taking a seat next to her. He wanted to spill everything and tell her that he knew everything. The things they did in the facility, the experiments, her… assault. But will it cause her to have another panic attack? Does she even want to know, or does she want to just forget? Does she have any idea what happened and how she could set fire to her book? Does she know her vision is still with her even now?
He blinked back his tears, refusing to meet her eyes, but (y/n) could tell from the way he gripped her hand, it was something serious.
“Wriothesley, love, you can tell me,” (y/n) placed a hand on his cheek, to which he automatically leaned into. “I can tell you’re probably worried about my mental state, but hey my therapist told me I’m doing well!”
He recalled, clear as day, the number of times he had tried to bring up questions about what happened at the facility. (y/n) had only managed to explain bits and pieces of information, but had been only the things she knew, she did mention painful injections but didn’t know that it was her own vision that was injected into her. Those sessions had always ended with her crying and panicking. He didn’t want to put her through that.
He smiled bitterly, “I know you are… I just don’t think you’re ready for this.”
(y/n) swallowed, “is it… is it about me?”
Wriothesley nodded, eyes still averted.
(y/n) squeezed the hand that held hers, “I… I think I’m ready to know more.”
Wriothesley looked up, now his steely blue gaze met with her concerned yet nervous ones.
“Are you sure?” his thumb rubbed circles into the back of her hand.
(y/n) took a deep breath, “yeah, I’ll tell you if it gets too much.”
Wriothesley nodded, and told (y/n) everything he learned. The experiments, the vision injections- (y/n) was really shocked at this, although she had a suspicion about it when she saw her book catch fire so suddenly. As he spoke, Wriothesley kept a close eye on her expression and gestures. He’s been with her long enough to know if she’s uncomfortable, or if it gets too much for her. Whenever her breathing hitched, he would stop for a bit and rub her back until she gestured for him to continue.
“That was all we got from the notes left behind at their base,” Wriothesley eyed (y/n) carefully. She was playing with a loose thread poking off the end of her blanket, eyes distant and looking as if she’s processing all the information.
Wriothesley knew he had to keep going. “and now we have Dougier under our custody.”
At the mention of his name, (y/n) visibly tensed up, “oh…”
“I heard he assisted in some of the experi- procedures.”
(y/n) hesitated, “did you manage to get more information out of him? Like how do we reverse the vision injections? How do I control it?”
“Apparently only Arderne knows that bit of information,” Wriothesley sighed, shifting nervously, “and right now he’s still at large. I assure you we’ll get him, and that you’re safe here, okay?”
(y/n) nodded.
The room fell silent for a few tense moments. (y/n) picked up her blubberbeast plushie and held it to her face. It smells like Wriothesley, as he had sprayed his cologne on it. It brings a feeling of comfort to her, as if a reminder that she is never alone and that he’s with her and keeping her safe even when he’s not by her side.
Watching her, Wriothesley hesitated, but he had to- need to ask her.
“(y/n).”
Sensing his change of tone, (y/n) tensed, her hand stopping mid stroke down her plushie’s back. She turned to him.
He seemed to hesitate, looking down at her blanket instead of her face. The silent stretched for what felt like hours before he finally raised his gaze to meet her eyes.
“At the facility- no. uhh… How do I say this.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, “How… How often do you throw up?”
(y/n) blinked, confused. “what?”
“Every morning these last few days, you wake up and rush straight to the bathroom. We did think it was a stomach bug, but when I asked the nurses for the diagnosis, it was as if they're hiding the information from me.”
She couldn’t breathe. It felt as if her blood was frozen but it burned at the same time. Fuck he knew. Wriothesley knew. He’s always been so observant how did she think she can even hide this from him?
“(y/n)... Are you hiding- uhh… Are-Are you pregnant?”
It was like a dam that burst. A sob escaped (y/n)’s lips, one that she tried to hold back but failed. That was confirmation enough for Wriothesley, who felt his own tears prickling behind his eyes. A split second later, (y/n) shot out of her bed, and with wobbly steps using her crutch, went straight to the bathroom. Wriothesley had gotten up to help, but was pushed away feebly. Quickly, she threw open the lid of the toilet and expelled the contents of her stomach into the toilet.
“(y/n)-”
“Don’t-” (y/n) sobbed, flushing the toilet and sinking down even lower onto the bathroom floor, “I don’t want you to see me like this. You shouldn’t have known about this.”
Wriothesley paused, then slowly took another step towards her, hands open as if trying to calm a scared animal. Before he had a chance to speak, (y/n) continued.
“I feel so dirty and gross. No matter how many times I showered and scrubbed myself I can still feel his hands.”
He took a step. “(y/n)...”
“I was going to take care of the abortion process myself, and just forget everything that happened. I didn’t want to tell you. I’m so sorry I couldn't tell you. I just feel so disgusting.”
Another step. “Darling please-”
“I don’t want you to look at me or think of me differently, I just want to put everything behind me, pretend none of that ever happened and just go back to how everything was.”
Wriothesley slowly sank to his knees beside (y/n), who scooted away from him, as if by reflex.
“Don’t touch me. I-I can’t… I know you’ll probably feel disgusted and hate me for it, for hiding it from you, for everything-”
On the contrary, seeing (y/n) like this only served as the final trigger that released his tears, which finally flowed freely down his cheeks. All he wanted to do was hold her and keep her safe, tell her he loves her and… She looked so broken he just wanted to hold her. Archons, please let me hold her.
“I’ll disappear from here if that’s what is best. Just say it. You don’t want me anymore-”
”(y/n),” his voice shook, “I’m so sorry that happened. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to get you sooner. No one deserved to go through what you did. Everyday I hated myself for it, I kept thinking I should have done this, or that. I should have gotten you sooner.”
(y/n) wiped her tears, only for it to be replaced by more. Her vision was blurry as she tried to look at him. Part of her was glad about it, as it probably hid the disgust in his eyes.
“I’m not disgusted by you, no, that was the furthest thing from my mind. (y/n) may I hold you? Please?”
(y/n) just kept sniffling and wiping her tears which seemed to flow endlessly, but made no move to scoot further away, so Wriothesley slowly approached her and took her hand in his. He placed a gentle kiss on it, which only made her cry even more.
“I’m sorry darling, I’m so, so sorry.”
He gathered her in his arms and held her tightly, as if afraid that she would disappear as soon as he let go.
(y/n)’s voice quivered as she asked “y-you don’t hate-”
“Sshhh…” Wriothesley placed a kiss on her forehead, his own tears fell off his cheeks and onto hers. “Something like this can never make me hate you, I promise. I understand why you wanted to hide it, but please know that you don’t have to. We’ll figure out our next step together okay?”
He didn’t know how long they both sat there on the bathroom floor, crying in each other’s embrace. It took a long while for (y/n)’s sobs and sniffles to die down. He kept one hand on her back, and the other stroke her hair, hoping to provide as much comfort as possible.
I love her.
“I wish you can see yourself through my eyes,” Wriothesley whispered in her ea, “it’s gonna be okay. I promise you, (y/n).”
His words were met with silence, as it has been the past few minutes.
“If nothing else I say sticks, at least please let this be the one thing you remember. It’s not your fault. I love you (y/n), you’re still the same old (y/n) I know and love, and Archons, no matter what happens I can’t imagine a life without you. I love you so much (y/n), none of this is your fault.”
He decided to wait a little longer before he noticed that her breathing was slower. Wriothesley peered at her face and saw that her eyes were closed.Tear tracks were still present on her cheeks, which he wiped away with his thumbs, before placing a gentle kiss on top of her head.
Slowly he shifted his position so that he was carrying her in a princess carry, with her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He walked over to her bed and gently laid her down, tucking her in under the blanket, and placing her plushie right beside her.
For some time, he sat beside her, just admiring her features and tracing her cheeks all the way to her jaw with the back of his hand, light as a feather.
“We’ll get through this together, you and me. I promise you.”
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(っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ(ノ_&lt;;。)
If you think reading this chapter is hard, imagine writing it :”D emotional damage
Apologies for the late update, and perhaps a steady decline in writing quality (I’m no writer, just doing this for fun!) as I have been swamped with work this past week after I was down with a bad cold for quite a bit (there’s been a bug around, and so many people were sick :”D) I sincerely thank all of you for your continued support for this series, I love you guys. Hope you all stay safe and healthy!
I hope the next chapter won’t be as hard to write because hoooo BOYE. my bf had to comfort me after I finished writing this chapter.
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