#& it lasts for like. 5 minutes and its happening once or twice a day

[aropride]

👍🌟

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Pounding

Summary: Reader has a migraine, and Spencer wants to help.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Hurt/comfort

Content warnings: none

Word count: 1.2k

The transition of seasons is something that has to be endured. It’s the time when you wake up to frost on your windshield in the morning but must remove your coat by the time you leave work. It is a painful time of inconsistency, especially for your sinuses. Not only with the pollen in the air (as well as on your car at all times) but the dryness as well. It causes your headaches to go from sometimes once a month to now twice a week.

And the first one happens this week, today. The migraine descended on you like a storm, brewing from your nasal cavities, its relentless waves of pain crashing against the shores of your temples. With each throb, the world around you seemed to blur and spin.

You shut the door to your apartment and let your bag fall from your shoulder, with no care with where it lands. Light, food, the smell of home is all too much to bear. With a sigh, you shuffle to the sanctuary of your room and bask in the silence while you can still control it. You unleash yourself from your business casual attire and fall into bed, nestling yourself under the covers.

The darkness relieves pressure, only slightly. It will probably be hours before it has settled, so you think it is best to call it a night now at 5:56 in the evening. There was no point in doing anything else as streetlights alone from the windows have proven to be enough to make the back of your eyes ache. You remained still, motionless, unmoved. Minutes could stretch well into hours without your knowledge.

Until the sound of the front door opened, cutting through the quiet. Spencer was home, which means it’s 6:06 now. The creaking floors from his aged apartment tell you he goes to the kitchen first, the sink runs, then his steps only grow closer to you until you can feel his presence at your back. “Migraine?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

It drains all energy and motivation out of you, so you merely nod in response. He’s more than familiar with severe head pain; chronic migraines that were resolved with a vitamin regimen. Fortunately, he has yet to complain about them bothering you in the year you’ve been together. And he never leaves home without them.

Unfortunately, this makes him eager to figure out your head pains. Last spring, he left out an array of vitamins in a pill organizer. They didn’t. It wasn’t an issue at first. It was clear he was trying to help. The downside of your boyfriend being a child prodigy and objective genius is that he will never back down from a challenge, even when you have asked him to. He can’t do it. Later in the month, he came home one day with an array of tea brands, mostly ginger and peppermint. He’s bought humidifiers, massaged the cartilage of your nose, and even consulted Reddit. It’s certainly worn down your patience, especially when you require complete silence.

“I can get you some hot compresses from the pharmacy if you want.” He jumps in completely. The last three words are merely to cushion the obvious; reiterating the point rather than saying something like, “I’ve had headaches before. I know how awful they are, so you should let me help you.” Which he’s also said.

You continue the annoying pattern by shaking your head with an audible moan. Opening your eyes hurts.

“What about nasal spray or decongestant? I can get those at the pharmacy as well.”

“I don’t need anything from the pharmacy. I took ibuprofen. Just need to keep my eyes closed.”

“Well, that can only help so much today. Saline will help encourage drainage and expansion in the vessels. Ibuprofen solves the head pain, not the root problem.”

“Unless the BAU can order planting fruit trees, it’s the best we can do.”

“What I’m trying to say is—”

You groan louder. “This isn’t a time for solutions, Spencer.”

Another unfortunate aspect of your relationship is that you can feel the way Spencer’s face softens from your tone. He then mutters out an apology, a brief sorry, but he doesn’t leave. He touches your shoulder and keeps his hand there until you turn to face him. And because you love him very much, you strain to open your eyes. You can make out a blur of his silhouette in the growing darkness, but still see clearly his glossy eyes and the quirk of his lips. “Can you do something for me first, though? Real quick?”

Before you answer, his hand slides toward your upper back, meaning you have to sit up for this. You were ready to say something along the line that he’s lucky you love him right now and leave it at that because thinking further made the pressure in your temples increase. 

You didn’t have to speak at all, though. Because Spencer is also holding a glass of water in front of you. You look up at Spencer’s puppy-eyed silhouette. “Not a solution,” he says softly. “It’s something you always need.”

Well, if that didn’t make you feel like an asshole. You accepted the glass without a word, feeling the coolness against your palm as you brought it to your lips. Each sip, at the very least, a distraction from the throbbing. Spencer watches you closely. You had no choice but to finish the whole glass. And you did, leaving Spencer satisfied enough as he took the glass and walked out.

You didn’t say a word. The sink ran again, and Spencer returned with another full glass. He doesn’t hand it to you, instead puts it on the nightstand before turning precariously on his heels. It takes you a second through half-closed eyes to realize he’s walking back out. You’re afraid to ask, wondering if you’ve made him too upset to talk. You push yourself and do so anyway, keeping your tone in mind. “Where are you going?”

Spencer turns on his heels once more, looking around momentarily like there were others in the room. He then looks at you. “I figured you wanted to be alone.”

You reach out, moving through the pain quite literally, and you catch the polyester of his cardigan just between your fingers and pull him closer until you can wrap your arms around him. You hold your breath, knowing the intense smell of his laundry detergent would be enough to collapse down to your pillow in further pain. His cardigan is soft against your face. “Do you have other stuff to do?”

He chuckles, his abdomen bounces. So, he’s not too mad. “I do not.”

Encouraged by his response, you tug him gently (and not so gracefully) into bed. He’s delightfully warm. Spencer kicks off his shoes in response before pulling you close. Then you bury your face into his chest, hesitant to breathe in the scent of cedar that clings to the cardigan. You try best to ignore it as you cocoon yourselves beneath the blankets, finding refuge in each other’s company amidst the inner turmoil that comes with spring. You listen to the steady rhythm of Spencer’s heartbeat, and find a fleeting sense of peace in the storm.

[lvvgyu]

Stay for me..? C.bg x you

warning ⚠️⚠️

🔞!! toxic!gyu, obsessive!gyu, gyu masturbates infront of reader twice. Pillow humping, panty sniffing. Yknow, all the shit in a stalker fic! Theres hardly an ending to this but its been in my drafts so long that I just needed to get it out, prolly will make a part two just say the word! 😉😉

Beomgyu didnt understand how you could just ignore him.

At first, the calls were normal. He’d call during your lunch break to make sure you ate, text if you ended up when working long nights to say goodnight and encourage you to get your work completed.

A few months into the relationship there was a sudden change. Beomgyu couldn’t stop messaging you constantly, calling you, and berating you about who you were with, how long you would be there..When you’d come back to him..

He’s just showing you that he loves you, why would you get mad at that?

But are you even mad? He’s not sure, he’s just assumed that since you haven’t texted him or called him back, you’re mad. God, he wants to hear your voice again.

His calls are one after another. Why won’t you answer him? Did you find someone better? You can’t leave him..He loves you so much, and you love him! So why are you doing this to him?..

“baby?..Why didn’t you answer my calls? I’ve been texting you all night, are you okay? Did something happen?” His voice is laced with worry.

You glance at the phone and start to respond, watching the traffic light turn to green.

“I’ve been busy at work, Gyu..I’m sorry I couldn’t answer, I was jus-“

“You’re on your way home right? I want to see you so bad, I was so worried..” He says, the worry in his voice not even slightly gone. You grip the wheel tighter and sigh quietly.

“Yea, Gyu..I’m on my way…” You say gently. You wish he would calm down a bit, he’s making it seem like you’ve been gone for days.

He speaks again, his voice softer this time.

“Are you mad at me?..” Even though he decided to ask, his guts twist at the suspense of what you’ll say. What if you are mad at him? He just wants to be good for you, he wants to be yours and he wants you to be his!

“No..Gyu, baby I’m not mad..” You say, looking at the time and then glancing ahead at the road.

“Yeah you are..” He says gently

“I-I just want you here, I need you..I really need you..” As the words fall from Beomgyu’s mouth, you can hear how slurred they are. And you figure that he’s worked himself up so much that he can barely speak coherently.

“Gyu, I’m almost home. We can talk about this, yeah? I have to hang up but, im not m-“

“You don’t even wanna talk to me?…What did I do? Did I say something wrong? I-im just worried about you and that..that guy, Yeonjun or whatever..You’re always with him and then..you come home, like you’re angry at me..”

You don’t respond, trying not to fuel his anger anymore. When you hear his sniffles and hear shuffling, you decide to hang up.

He calls back immediately, spamming you with text messages and begging for you to call him back. To stay, to be with him for just a bit longer. He needs you, that’s what he always says.

The car ride lasted about 5 more minutes, and when you reached for keys to the front door Beomgyu had already opened it.

“Baby! I missed yo-“

“Gyu..I need to talk to you…”

Beomgyu still doesn’t understand. A break? Why would you want to take a break from him?..You love him, so why would you ask for a break?

“No..no, no you can’t do that..” He moves closer to you quickly. Trying to grab your hands.

“Gyu, I love you. You know that, but all of this is overwhelming..” You say, kissing his hands gently.

He shakes his head, searching for your gaze with his own teary eyes.

“But I NEED you..” He whispers.

After moments of silence, there’s a soft rustling sound and frantic movements made by Beomgyu. When you look up, you see him removing his clothes. He wipes his tears and sniffles as he grabs your hands again.

“Let me show you! I can be good, I’m worth it I promise.. I’m-..I…” He stops once he sees your worried expression. Not frightened, at least not visibly.

“I’m leaving for now..I need time to think…”

Beomgyu watches you leave, wanting his tears to stop you somehow. When he sees that you’re actually leaving, he’s already trying to find a way to make you come back to him..

You were pleasantly surprised by how distant you two were becoming. No more constant calls from Beomgyu, or text messages.

Until one day.

When you received a video from Beomgyu titled “come back :((?” You were beyond confused. He hadn’t texted you in days, never called, and it was refreshing.

Opening the file, you didn’t expect much. But as Beomgyu came into screen and fixed the camera, you were utterly confused.

“I miss you baby…I know you miss me too..” He says softly, His hand moving away from the camera as he gets comfortable on the bed. He pouts softly as he looks into the camera.

“I know you’ll come back, you always do..” He says softly as his fingers come up to rub his nipples.

You always loved how sensitive they were, and how his body would react. Beomgyu let out soft moans and tilted his head slowly, moving his hand down his body gently.

You want to turn it off, to tell him that he’s gone too far this time. But..

He looks so pretty, and you know it just for you. His legs are spread perfectly infront of the camera, his hair falling onto from his forehead. Just slightly covering his pretty eyes.

Beomgyu grabs something from off of screen, a pair of your panties. He gently takes them and brings them up to his nose, taking a gentle whiff.

You should be disgusted, really..Hes jerking off infront of you, using your panties to get off.

But you aren’t disgusted..in fact, you’re turned on.

Beomgyu pants gently, sniffing the panties as he jerks off.

“I love you..I love you, i just want you to come back..I-I need y..” He can hardly continue to speak, stroking his cock faster and faster.

His hips thrust up constantly, and he grinds against his palm. “Please, want you to come back..just want you-“

Beomgyu whines in frustration, every attempt at trying to get off comes to no avail..Because its not you..Its not you stroking his cock, its not you silencing his moans because hes always a bit too loud.

Tears brim in his eyes as he pulls his hand away from his cock. He whimpers and reaches for your pillow behind him, slowly shifting and straddling the pillow.

As you watch, your gaze falls onto the way his hips thrust, desperate and needy. Normally, you’d be there to soothe him. But now, all you can do is watch.

“Y-y/n..” He whines gently, thrusting onto your pillow. Beomgyu tilts his head back, finally finding some relief after all these tries to cum.

And for some reason, you turn off the video there…

You immediately open up your text messages and stare at his contact, attempting to find something to say.

But, you leave it at that. Turning off your phone and sliding it to the side. Of course Beomgyu wouldn’t let this break happen…

Guess the break’s ending already, hm?

[puuta-heinaa]

Joker Out, Paris (Café de la danse) 22.3.2024

I arrived at the venue around 14ish, and was third to last in the EE queue. However queueing is part of the party! I exchanged sooo many bracelets and met amazing people, some of which I just met that day, some I knew from Discord or tumblr or earlier gigs, couldn't have been happier. Got selfies with Bojan and Jan?? Hug from Bojan??? HELLO. That would never happen in Finland. I described his hug as jämäkkä and turvallinen, which roughly translates to sturdy and safe.

Some of the bracelets I made for the concert!

Met someone in the queue who had hawk's eyes and who encouraged me to go and ask for a selfie with Jan, and later on she spotted Bojan on the street 100 m before everyone else did. I had a chance to give Bojan 3 2 ananaslonkero -bracelet that I'd made, with a tiny drink charm. If the main joke in fandoms is that a hug from your blorbo would cure you? well it's true. Getting a hug from Bojan removed some stiffness between my shoulder blades that I didn't even know was there. It was literally easier to breathe after the encounter. I also kept vigorously shaking for 3-5 minutes afterwards, so much that some people asked if I'm ok. Just released years worth of trauma ig. Also LOTS of happy hand stims throughout the day, my autism was showing lol.

Jan was outdoors SMOKING!!! And Bojan had charmingly dirty hair! He was taller than I had thought.

ANYways the gig !! I ended up on Jance side, which was nice as I was on Kris' side in Helsinki. Whole stage was about as wide as K-18 section at Kultsa, and I think they suit better on smaller stages.

We got Vem da Gres and Gola in soundcheck! I was wearing Vem da gres -bracelet that I got in Helsinki a few weeks ago and thought about that person for a few seconds!

Gola was ok. Bojan got disney mickey ears, and he was wearing my 3 2 ananaslonkero bracelet. Bojan also got a maca plushie that he was NOT scared of, he even made it fly.

Kris left the stage as soon as the last notes of Gola were over, other boys stayed jamming in accelerating speed for couple of more minutes. I showed them my UM sign that only read "I want to sing UMAZAN" at that point. :')

20h02 was ok, didn't connect with their music at all though. JC Stewart seemed a bit sick, but sounded good nevertheless. Finished my sign.

They started with Katrina and Bele Sanje, and people were singing even guitar riffs along. Dopamin hit like dopamine followed by Ne bi smel, Nace was staring at me several times during those songs.

Liinu's superb edit of staring sc Nace and struggling Kris and Arcti's edit about Jan's forgotten library books made my day

People were already singing along to Sta bih ja, and Bojan was sooo happy (and sweaty. We were all very sweaty, the concert hall was ridiculously warm.). Kris disappeared for a moment in the beginning of Sta bih ja, and Bojan looked like a lost puppy (wait, where is kris?? about 5-10 seconds into sta bih ja). Bojan said Kris didn't like how Jan played the riff and that's why he left the stage :P. Jan flipped a bird to him.

Decibels raised by about 20 when they played Ona and Demoni. Turns out they might be the easiest to sing along for absolutely everyone, not just for people who speak Finnish. Bojan looked me directly into eyes during second verse of Demoni for several seconds, and I felt so seen (in a good way). EE was definitely worth its price.

In Helsinki I felt like the setlist was over before it even started, but in Paris it felt more like we were really dancing and playing until the stars fade. I think it had something to do with how much they interacted with each other and with the public during each song. In Helsinki they seemed like they had forgotten how to be on stage, and there was just TOO MUCH SPACE, whereas Paris had Nordic Tour energy.

They all moved a LOT on stage!! Kris was on jance side several times! Nace had a mating dance thingy going on with Kris at least twice, Jan once. Jan interacted with the public on Kris's side a few times. Bojan almost run into Kris at one point - no wonder he caressed Kris's arm to let him know he's there before grapping his hips?? and dancing behind him??? during Behind those eyes. It's cafe de la danse after all.

Def thinking "THIS is how we'll trend on tumblr tonight" right after the famous dance

Everybody's waiting and soooooo many people raised hands when Bojan asked in his spiel before the song if anyone here suffers from panic or anxiety attacks, and I think it made everyone feel less alone. He sang I'm the problem it's me -line to make things a bit lighter before proceeding to the song.

We got Omamljeno Telo and I felt SOOOO HAPPY (but also sad for Moonu) but also SOOOO HAPPY it was on the setlist, I think I screamed VITTU JES on top of my lungs (manifesting it for Ruisrock huh). Famous water spray on Jan during OT, and it shows I've grown old, because instead of "yeeeess I want Bojan's spit on me" I went "rat disease, why am I not wearing a mask".

Everyone sang along during CD, not in French though even if there was a fanproject French translation published a whole 28 hours before(....). Plastika hit like a hammer once again, but I think I was already waiting and stressing for UM, so I didn't mosh for example. Which, good idea, because my neck was soooo sore after Helsinki.

Bojan announced the karaoke song, and asked which versions we have today. He saw my sign, asked "Slovenian version?", to which I "said" (from 4th row on Jan+Nace side) Finnish version, and he heard it and corrected himself and said perfect. I was not afraid at all even if I knew I'm probs going to sing in front of about 500 people in 5ish minutes???? How??? I'm usually a ball of anxiety but here I was just proud and excited to sing my version of it.

I loved the Bretogne/French version (I've still no idea what were the words, but it rhymed super well and she sang well, but that was def NOT paris region French), cringed at some of the "translations" because they did not fit the lines and did not rhyme, sang along to Slovenian versions in Finnish, felt bad for one of them as the karaoke singer started at the wrong moment and Bojan spent most of their special moment trying to orchestrate the band.

When Bojan approached with "I think we still have a Slovenian version, OH NO, A FINNISH VERSION" I chortled, and felt the last bits of nervousness disappear. (Cue "some boat, titanic, oh no".) I had my ACTUALLY finger pointing moment, which, on point with my personality, telling him it's a hybrid version. I don't know what he meant with SUOMI SAA, but it was NOT full-on Suomi SAATANA, that much is certain. I quite like the idea/interpretation he was making a pun with SAA(tan)Are you ready? But who knows. Sad about missed chance to answer "ArE YoU???" now that I think about it, but at least I wasn't the only one who failed the moment :') . Speaking of cursewords though, a histronic youngster next to me did shout vittu though! I loved my spot but she was super annoying throughout the evening.

The Finnish version is in the beginning of this one, and the Arabic version right after Finnish version is AMAZING. The French version is on the first part, as well as Bojan going "uuu Finnish version? perfect".

Started in Slovene, which made him have a Ok?? face, but when I switched to my own Finnish version that rhymes with the Slovene version, he raised his brows and seemed so impressed that I just nodded to him, sending telepath(et)ic messages that yes, our languages match and rhyme, about time you collaborate with Jere. I think he remembered I asked for a hug in the afternoon, because he did not hug everyone during karaoke. Afternoon hug was better btw.

I love his little surprised smile right when I finish the first Finnish line on this one

I usually think quite a lot about how other people perceive me, but now I didn't give a single fuck, just enjoyed being the main character for 20 seconds, having this interaction with my blorbo. Forever grateful for the 4 different angles I received from friends I made in the queue, and 1 from a random guy who asked me after the concert if I'd like to receive a video he took of me singing. Even Vita was filming the whole thing with her big light + camera + phone ensemble. I often sing in my car, and even IMAGINING i'm singing karaoke makes my voice suddenly tiny and weak and compressed, so I'm overflowingly glad it went this well, you have no idea even if I've just bragged about it for 4 paragraphs.

I later realised I was the only one who didn't hold the mic themself, this is a clear example how I objectify the boys, seeing Bojan just as a mic stand.🫣😵‍💫

I got fluent Kiitos from Bojan, that guy needs to move to Finland he speaks Finnish so well. Also LMAO I forgot to sniff him in the afternoon, now I'm praying the snifff I took after karaoke wasn't too evident and doesn't show on Vita's video……….. Jere is wrong, Bojan does not smell like shit, but there were no parfume smell either? He just smells like nothing in a pleasant, pheromone rich way lol.

my translation: Sanje so tvojega okusa Aamuihin taas tuoksusi Neula ei haarukassa Sieluni on hukassa Etsimässä tietään luoksesi

I haven't figured how to translate the first line. I've been playing with "Makus' on tarrannut uniini", but it does not rhyme with the og well enough. Otherwise super proud of my version. Neula and haarukka are parts of compass, basically saying the compass is layed on the map the wrong way. 🧭

This is how small the place was??? I was in 3/4th row, and the hat guy in the right corner was right behind me during the concert so the club truly was tiny.

Apparently bubbles were not allowed on stage in Cafe de la danse? But some people had brought their own so we had bubbles anyway.

Jure exchanged his drumstick to a breadstick. I laughed because a) it was a clever pun and b) such a stereotypically French thing to bring a BAGUETTE wrapped in a napkin to a concert. Also no wonder boys are always sick, I don't even want to know how many people touched that bread before it was on stage.

Life is pain (in mouths)

We waited for the boys after the concert outside the venue in the rain, and they walked past quite quickly. Bojan stayed for 30 seconds to take a group selfie. <3

Honestly so happy I traveled there and met amazing people and surpassed myself on so many levels.

I feel like 2004 again, because that's when I last made a post this long on livejournal and also when I last was this hyped about a group.

I loved band's AMAZING OUTFITS in Café de la danse, everyone had some idrija lace on them, and I'm afraid my next special interest will be bobbin lace.

[popcornforone]

The Winners Circle

A Dieter Bravo Fan Fic

This was in draft form a while, not completed. I’ve always wanted to write Dieter during award season & with Pedro being nominated so much this year it was fitting. Also a huge shout out to @salgal78 she said ahhh I have an idea for a fic for you to write or incorporate & part of it appears in this so thanks my love.

Synopsis: It’s the TV BAFTAS & both you & Dieter are up for awards. Everyone thinks you’re just friends, let’s see if you can convince everyone that’s still the case & not something more.

Word Count: 5800

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! PIV (passionate & kinda getting near rough) sex, oral male receiving, established relationship, cream pie, swearing, alcohol, mentions of party & Dieters previous life style, previously friends to lovers, secret relationships, teasing. Public sex, bribery.

Thanks as always for the read peoples it’s really appreciated. All feedback is welcome. I hope you enjoy.

Your silver heels sit in the corner of the hotel bathroom ready to head to the BAFTA’s. Tonight you are certain will be your night. You are up technically for 5 awards.

Best comedy show

Tv moment of the year

Best comedy actor (twice for your co stars)

& best comedy actress for you

You & your long time writing parter & first love came from nothing & wrote a hit sketch comedy show which has now reached its natural conclusion. You are both finally getting recognition for this & tonight as you walk the red carpet at the Baftas you will be validated. You strap your heels on & make sure your purple dress shimmers & makes you look fantastic. You leave the bathroom of the suite & see your husband sorting out his purple tie in the mirror. His eyes catch you in the reflection, & the (for once) smart Dieter Bravo turns around. His lips part as he sees you.

“Bloody hell” he says looking you up & down. “What happened to my wife & the comfortable leggins & hoddies she wears?”

“Oooh she’s here baby, don’t worry” you walk up to him & sort out his cufflinks for him. His pocket square as well matches the material on your dress. He is also up for two BAFTAS . For best performance In an international tv show & also for tv moment of the year. His death in the crime drama he was in last year got rave reviews & became an instant meme. It’s almost as iconic as Hans Gruber falling from the nakatomi plaza. “You do need to remember though Dieter, that no one even knows we are dating & just assumes we are friends” after confessing your mutual feelings for each other a few weeks ago, you decided not to waste any time & got married 8 weeks later. Only your immediate families & 2 friends each in attendance for the most romantic evening of your lives. You are meant to actually right now be on your honeymoon, but when you both got your award nominations 3 day’s before your nuptials, you postponed it by a few days.

“I will baby, don’t worry, remember I’m good at keeping these kinda secrets” he says with a wink & gets his phone out to take a selfie of you both before you head off to the BAFTAS. separate cars are coming to get you, as you are travelling with the people from your show who are in the rest of the rooms on this floor.

“I know you are, I mean people have seen us on the red carpet together before as friends…” you look longingly into his big brown eyes & this scruffy hair which you insisted he kept for tonight. It means if you can sneak a few minutes with him & you run your hands through it, it won’t look like you have done that. You do also prefer him scruffy. “But your mine now baby”

“& so are you my wife” he kisses you.

“I’m never going to get tired of hearing that husband”

“& I’ll never stop saying it” he smiles back. Click goes his camera as you both hold each other & take a romantic selfie. For your eyes only.

*

“To the left”

“Looking fabulous”

“Smile”

“How does it feel to be the toast of the awards?”

This is the craziest red carpet you’ve ever been on. There have been some properly famous people walk this in front of you tonight. But you seem to be the person everyone wants to talk to, have a selfie with, be interviewed by. It’s suddenly dawned on you that tonight will change your life. You are being taken seriously & as you pose you get more comfortable & confident in yourself.

“Dieter” a member of the press shouts. Because you’ve been doing so much fan service, interviews & stuff with your colleagues on your show, Dieter has now caught you up on the red carpet. “Pose with her” is shouted & that’s all it takes. Dieter stops his solo geeky pose he’s famous for & because you’ve always posed at events together, it’s not weird to anyone when he pulls you in close around the waist.

“Smile baby” he says as he kisses your hand & smoulders to you & then turns to the world’s photographers.

“I always smile Dieter” you beam at the press. Your hand is squeezing his bum, the cheek nearest to you. He winks at you & leans into your ear.

“Keep doing that…” he whispers seductively “… & you’ll remember tonight for more than the accolades you receive”

“Dieter” you say loudly in shock & suddenly realise people heard you outloud. “Oooh you know how he gets” you play it off & Dieter rolls his eyes. The press know Dieter is know for his slightly risky comments, that’s why he’s celebrity gold for the tabloids. He plays up to his perceived image, but that was just for your ears.

You continue to work the red carpet & eventually make your way into the auditorium & are handed a complimentary glass of champagne & then someone comes to take Dieter to his seat. You knew you weren’t sitting together but right now you wish he was sitting next to you for today. He wasn’t given a plus one & you gave yours to another member of your cast so they could come to this as well.

“Good luck beautiful” he kisses your cheek & is walked into the theatre. It’s only when you walk in that you realise how near the front you & your show are. You also see Dieter sitting about 8 rows back talking to an usher. You sit down next to your Co writer & ex Ciaran.

“So what are you predicting?” He says.

“Two, comedy show & best actor for either you or Pete” you reply.

“Ha” his wife Jess says “you’re always so modest, we all know full well you’re gonna pick up best comedy actress. If you don’t we all boycott the BAFTAs going forward”

“Jess!” You exclaim “you can’t say that while we are actually at the BAFTAs” you tut & roll your eyes & then you & Ciaran say the exact same thing in unisons. “Wait til we’ve at least won one bloody thing” the whole group of you laugh. It’s one of the lines from the show when you talk to others about how inappropriate they are but to do it once that person has left of the thing is over. If you get no other wins tonight this has all made you have a collective laugh.

*

“To present our first award…” the host goes on, you haven’t checked the program to see what order things are in, you were going to do that during the first award, but then you stop & put the list down & applaud as the words”… Dieter Bravo” are said. The room cheers. Obviously to you & your colleagues & friends they knew he was going to be here, they know your a couple probably the only people in the room that do, but the rest of the room is really enthusiastic too. It’s always good when a big megastar turns up for uk award shows. Out he walks in his charcoal suit, pocket square & tie that highlights the outfit, & he’s got his glasses on. That’s your man right there. He’s yours & you wish he was now sitting next to you to keep you calm tonight.

“Comedy is all about timing, something that’s not my strongest attribute, just ask my friends & how I almost didn’t get to my limo in time.”

“Well we’re a shoe in…”Ciaran whispers to you.

“What?”

“The opening award is for comedy show, Dieters presenting, the world knows your friends, they are doing this for a nice little on stage reunion” Your eyes pop open.

“Ooooh fuck” your hand trembles & Ciaran grabs it like he used to when you were a couple but it doesn’t calm you as it shakes anymore. Proving you work better as writers & friends.

“Breathe, it will be okay” Jess whispers, she has known you both long enough to know that there’s nothing going on between you.

After the little highlight package Dieter announces your tv show the winner & you all cheer & slowly make your way up to the stage. You’ve already made the group decision that the two people who will do this acceptance speech will be Ciaran (because you & Ciarán both know Pete is winning comedy actor) & James the next person with the most input. They all are congratulated by Dieter as they go up to the stage & you are last, & you hug him in a friendly way. You then with the other 4 cast members step back & let James & Ciaran talk& accept the award. You slowly feel Dieters hand go around your waist. You’re still listening to what your friends have to say, but you are suddenly much calmer now that you’re next to your husband.

“Congrats baby” he whispers “my little bafta winner”

“Thanks Dieter, the night is still young.” You’re trying to be professional but the way he just poked his glasses back up his nose has got you desiring him. You then slowly leave Dieters side & quickly leap into the microphone to do one last thank you.

“I know it’s a long night so I’ll be quick but I just want to say James & Ciaran are the reason we are here winning this, because let’s be honest they make us all look funny & you were never going to thank yourselves we’re you.” The room erupts into chuckles & you all leave the stage to do a few small interviews with the press back stage, before returning to watch the awards.

*

As you predicted earlier Pete wins best comedy actor. His performance as Grumpy Grandpa is going to be remembered long after any of you are relevant anymore. It is harsh on Ciaran & his characters he created. He is the better performer but Grumpy Grandpa is marvellous, mainly because of the way you & Ciaran wrote it. You sit there as the nominees for comedy actress are read out. You hate being recognised, you’re bad at self praise, but this was always a definite nomination as you missed out on a supporting actress bafta for something else last year because it didn’t meet the bbfc guide lines for international work. This year that rules has now been changed due to people protesting towards Bafta.

“& the bafta goes to…” says Nathan who is a tv show judge & currently flavour of the month looks wise in the British press.

He says your name.

You freeze.

You thought this might happen. But that still doesn’t mean it’s a shock to the system to hear your name be read out loud. The room erupts in noise & cheers & you sit there as Ciaran hugs you.

“Oh my fucking god” the room is filled with noise & people congratulating you but it’s all silent as your head trys to process what has just happened. You have a solo bafta. The room is a blur as you make your way to the steps to go & accept the award. But as you reach the stage & Nathan comes to hug you, you just catch a sight out the corner of your eye. Dieter is wiping a tear away a few rows further back. He’s standing up & applauding like everyone else but his eyes are glazed. He’s proud. He’s proud of his wife.

You are brought to an even more surreal reality of winning by a hug from Nathan. He tall dark & handsome even more so in person, smells divine & he gives you a hug.

“Congratulations” he says his eyes dancing “finally” he says & he hands you the BAFTA. Your BAFTA. You don’t need to share this one. It’s just where you’re gonna put it. You almost drop it. It’s so heavy. It doesn’t look it but it really is a weight. You get to the podium & put it on the stand & take a deep breathe.

“Well ladies & gents,I can confirm that Nathan does smell as good as he looks” the room laughs. You’ve broken the ice at the start of your speech. You have a rough idea about who you need to thank but you’ve not written it down. You’re going to speak from the heart & then you properly begin.

“Thank you Bafta. This is incredible. As are my 4 other nominees in this category. It’s hard enough to be a woman in this world anyhow let alone showbiz, but comedy is the hardest job of all so I want to say thank you to my fellow nominees & the women who came before us for giving us this opportunity.” You point & look at the rest of the friends from the show.

“I need to thank my guys & gals from the show, mainly Ciaran for being an amazing writing partner for over a decade & to his amazing wife Jess who let him just after they got married to go spend 10 weeks in a room with his ex & trust us.”more people laugh. “I also want to thank my parents, my brother & his wife & all the friends from the beginning who let me tell them bad jokes for years you are always my inspiration & to my new friends that I have now I’m a big shot apparently” you do quotation marks as you say that. A member of the press who doesn’t write fairly about women when they are successful said that you’d soon be a big shot & it would be the end of your tv show. You’ve waited 3 years to own them back.

“I also want to thank the viewers for sharing our show over the years, you watching meant we could do wilder crazier things, so thanks for the support, but the person I really want to thank is whoever it is who’s listening me right now. Be it a girl a guy a they or an I. I never thought I’d be here, I have always been told nah not today or well try this or be this. I may have changed a little recently but I’m am most me in front of my lap top typing. I may now be a comedian & actress but I am a writer, & my dream was to be recognised for that. So whoever you are out there, keep striving for the dream, be it you want to be a doctor or you want to complete the ironing tonight you’ve got this & I believe in you.” The room applauds & you smile & then you raise your BAFTA in the air & finish your speech. “Thank you so much BAFTA & D I adore you” you make eye contact with Dieter as you say that. You always say to each other that you adore him in public instead of saying you love him & he does the same. It does mean I love you to each other though. The room gives you a standing ovation & you walk off back stage to speak to the press about your well deserved win.

*

That’s it for your shows win for the night & Dieter doesn’t win either but next comes the after party & dinner. You are nowhere near Dieter for dinner, but you can now text him & you make a point to walk past his table & he does the same to you. Dinner is finished & the party really gets going. A world famous dj is mcing & the music is banging. You’re stood there chatting to Nathan who presented your award earlier, your bafta has been taken to be engraved & will already be at your hotel room when you get there later. It’s been replaced with a glass of champagne.

“Sorry about the comment about how you smelt Nathan, but you always look phenomenal”

“I mean I do judge a beauty show, I have a reputation to live up to”

“As do I with my comedy & ad libs” you both laugh. “But you do smell good” you then smile. Nathan assumes it’s for him but it’s not. Dieter is walking your way behind Nathan with the other judge from Nathan’s Tv show.

“Ahhh Nathan I thought you should meet the rather Dashing Dieter Bravo, he’s interested in having a new suit” Violet says. Nathan turns & sees the look on Dieters face & looks him up & down every detail taken in. Nathan shakes his hand.

“I know me needing a suit? Ironic” Dieter giggles sipping his whiskey, trying to to keep smiling at you. Violet then interjects.

“& congratulations to you, lots of wins today, you created such a wonderful show… have you watched it Dieter?” He almost chokes on his whiskey. He came to set a few days before you were a couple to watch how your show is made. He knows all too well the effort you put into making it.

“Oooh yes I have, I love it, she’s very talented with her hands…” he lingers & then shouts”… at typing” he’s blushing & you just stand there smiling, knowing exactly what he meant.

“I’m sure she is” Nathan winks “Violet let’s go mingle & Dieter you can get my information & I’ll do you a suit fitting” Nathan then shakes his hand again & then hugs you goodbye “I’ll leave you & your other half alone” your face looks a bit shocked as you pull away & look at him. “His face, your eyes & the similar styles & colours on your outfit plus that new glistening ring, I’d say you want some alone time”

“Wow Nathan no one else has clocked”

“Well they are all idiots” & he leaves & Dieter smiles at you before putting his glass down & flinging his arms around you, lifting you up & spinning you around in the air. You do a small scream. People don’t take notice this is what Dieter does to all people, he’s friends with. When your back in your feet he whispers softly.

“Congratulations to my my little miss double bafta winner” he kisses your cheek & you wish you didn’t have to hide your relationship at the moment. You would love the world to know that you are Mrs Bravo.

“Thanks Dieter, sorry you didn’t win”

“Oh but I did, the world wants to speak & be with you but only I get to do that.”

*

After dancing & networking, you leave the party. Both you & Dieter are now a little bit tipsy & not drunk. A line of limos are waiting outside, so you hold his hand & March him into the back of one of them & ask the drive to go the long way to your hotel.

“Have you had an amazing night my love?” Dieter asks as he tucks your hair behind your ear that’s come down slightly & kisses your neck. Your hand goes straight to his thigh.

“Yes Dieter, one of the best nights of my life”

“Well you deserve it”

“So do youuuuhooooo oooh Dieter” his teeth graze down your neck making you shudder with excitement.”im sorry you didn’t win though”

“Oh no I won, the world wants you for 5minutes ,i have you all to myself” you plunge one of your hands into his whispy hair before he hold you in place & you make out in the back of the limo. You know from experience that these driver keep thing’s professional & don’t over step the mark. But as you stroke his length from above his trousers, you can feel his anticipation building. He’s getting hard with each touch stroke & kiss. He wants you & the way he is sighing means he might cum in his trousers soon, if you don’t help him out.

You grab the intercom & buzz it to the driver.

“Complete disgression which will come with a very generous tip?”

“Of course just let me know when your done, traffic is a nightmare tonight so it might take a…”

“Thank you” Dieter announces & slams the intercom off as he unbuckles his belt.

“Dieter?! That was rude!” You scoff at him he likes it when you a bit moody, it’s a turn on but what’s not a turn on for Dieter. “Sorry he’s drunk” you apologise & then really turn the intercom off.

“I’m not that drunk my love, I’m at the right level” he says “& I hope you give me more than the tip”. He winks & he unzips his toruses & from the inside of his boxers out flops his massive erect penis. You lick your lips in excitement. For years you had heard girls & guys talk about how good Dieters cock was for blow jobs & he’d always said they’d been alright but the first time you took his length inside your mouth he came in seconds. Maybe it was just the idea or desperation for him to claim your mouth but he always repays the favour.

“Oooh my mouth likes to go all in baby.” You kneel on the limo floor & push your hair from your face. You spit on his leaking head. It’s angry & waiting to be welcomed for relief. You look up at him & smile. “All the way?” He stares in disbelief you’ve only done that when you were both high on lsd but you enjoyed it.

“You… you…sss…. You’re sure” he man spreads fully.

“Totally ” you’ve been stroking him for the last few exchanges & know it’s time. Down you go. Not all the way starting with the tip you want to go further down with each bob. You want him to get even more lost in desire the further you go.

“Oooh yesss, oooh fuck baby yes” he loves how your small little mouth which always is so polite, accommodates him. Your tongue lapping around it, how the saliva costs him. He grips the seat in the limo looking down as you take him further inside you.

“Fuck, I have won, you’ve not sucked anyone else tonight off” one hand has moved to his thigh, stroking it. Adding extra tension to him. His hips can’t be constrained as they start to gyrate. You know this is your cue to go deeper.

When he fills your cunt with his penis you wonder how it fits. Therefore you’re always shocked that when it hits the back of your throat that you don’t run out of air. It’s always a mess when you’re finished with him, but damn he always feels so good when you give him oral.

“Oooh baby, more, more, can you go further?” You flutter your eyes at him & nod & his hands go into your hair to encourage your bobbing. “good girl, my fucking good fucking slutty wife” he moans & his hips move & his hands go into your head too. The teasing blow job is now a face fuck. & he is grinding his teeth & snarling in desire. He holds your hair keeping you in place so you don’t Bob & he fucks further down your throat. “Eye contact baby” you reconnect as you stare at your husband. “Fuck oooh fuck” each thrust harder. Your taste buds already tasting some of him. He grips your chin in place so it doesn’t budge. He’s going so hard you’re worried about the mess you will make soon.

You gagging around him. Your nose is in his pubic hair when you reach the base each time. There is no relenting. Dieter is getting everything out in this blow job & his shirt is starting to dampen from sweat from the excitement it’s building up inside him.

“Baby I’m gonna,… gonna cum… so…so…” he growls but due to the change in his rhythm you already knew this. You’d pulled back slightly. You didn’t want to choke when he came, that had happened before, it was not a nice feeling for either of you. So he’s not fully down your throat, as his hips shudder. “Fucking fuck oooh fuck” he screeches & Dieter spills into your mouth. Funky & salty, the ropes of his seed have your taste buds standing to attention. Swallowing every drop. His eyes are closed as his pleasure is complete. He leans back on the limo seat, as you slowly let his penis go & give it a few last licks before taking a napkin to wipe it clean.

“Still tastes like a winner to me baby” you eventually state, swiping your thumb to wipe up a small bit of cum on your lips before softly & seductively licking it clean. You wait til his eyes are open before you do this. He lets out a soft giggle & sigh.

“I’ve slept with countless people who have performed oral on me & yet there’s something about your reflex & the way you slurp that always turns me on more than anyone else.” He helps you back onto the seat of the limo & redresses him bottom half.

“Before or after….”

“Oooh the first time you sucked my cock I was like oooh this, this here is next level.” He smirks rubbing your hair in a hazy state. “Everyone before me must have been idiots…”

“Actually Diets…” you interrupt “you are the only man I’ve ever performed oral on”

“What!?” He’s shocked “this is a joke right” you shake your head.

“On mine & yours life…”

“Then why me… why no other guy before me”

“Because i knew you liked it, expected it & I wanted to return the favour, knowing how legendary the rumours were about your own mouth is at pleasuring cunts”

“Wow” Dieter leans in & deeply kisses you. “Well I appreciate it every time, & I will return the favour of making your clit quiver…” his hand goes under your dress & you feel his hand reach for your knickers, but the limo then stops.

“We’re here” the intercom voice announces.

“Probably best to do this in our hotel room actually, much more room” Dieter then leave a £250 in the back of the limo. “For your discression” he says & he then drag the two of you out of the limo.

*

You are woken the next morning by a knock at your door. You ignore it at first but then the phone in the room rings. You unhappily wriggle free of Dieters grip, those long muscular arms wrapped around you, not wanting to let go. Eventually you get the phone & gasp, grabbing Dieters Jacket from last night to put on & answer the door, you don’t want to answer it naked. Your face is full of joy as you sign the security forms & take the large black & gold box back into your room. Dieter has stirred at the commotion, your excitement & you slowly pulling yourself away from him.

“Babe?” He asks half asleep as you stand at the table & open the box. His eyes light up when he can see your bum cheeks popping out the bottom of his jacket. You turn your head & smile.

“Morning sexy”

“No your the sexy one in my jacket” Dieter replys with a big stretch before his hand goes under the bed sheet to try & calm his morning erection, but with the way you look that’s not going to happen, it’s just going to have to wait a few minutes.

You stand there & lift up your 2 Baftas which are now engraved with your name show & date.

“They are here,” you put one back in the box as they are both heavy & slide onto the end of the bed & do the thing you’ve always wanted to do if you ever got your hand on one, use it as a face mask. Both you & Dieter laugh at this. Dieter leans to his bedside table & takes a snap of you on his phone.

“For insta later baby”he says with a wink.

“But I’m all but naked Dieter?”

“You don’t need to hide your body beautiful” he’s taken the bafta from you to look at it but he’s clearly distracted. “What time is your tv show press shoot this afternoon?” He asks as he tussles his hair.

“4pm why?”

“Good” he kicks off the bed sheet showing he’s completely naked & aroused, & put the bafta on the bedside table. “We didn’t celebrate enough last night” he pulls you fully onto the bed so that you’re on top of him.

“Who ever said we did?” You smirk leaning your head to his for a sensual kiss. Your hands running through that crazy untamed fluffy hair.

“Oooh sweetheart” the words escape his lips as both your eyes close as the intense kiss continues. His hands go under the jacket caressing your body, making sure you’re in the right place for pleasure to begin. “My winner, my winner at everything” he slowly puts his hand on your behind & lowers you onto his meaty length, the stretch as always extraordinary. He’s so big & you gasp. He lightly pushes his hands into your bum so you start to rock down onto him, pleasure already spreading through your veins, pumping your blood. His hands after a few motions move to help you undo the few jacket buttons you have as he looks up at you as you both slide it from your body, tossing it off the bed.

“You’re so beautiful baby” he moans, his hips already at a good rhythm. He looks up at you as you ride him. Your pelvis rolling to meet his thrusts, as that special place is starting to be hit. His hands grip your hips. Finger marks will be there for a while after this is over. You trail your hand down your body, eventually stopping at your clit, stroking starts slowly but then gets more vigorous. Dieter would usually do this by he’s in a trace as you make oooh fuck noises, & your spare hand squeeze a nipple.

“Fuck Dieter oooh fuck”

“Yea baby like that, I like that, so fucking good” he pants back. “Why is your cunt so addictive?” He’s moving faster you know what he wants.

“Because your the one fucking it” you whine back your hands now on his chest, those hairs so fine but so nice to run your hands through. It gives you both goosebumps.

You then hoover over him & spread your legs a little more knowing full well what will happen when you kiss him next. He slows slightly his body knows it too.

“Fuck my pussy baby” you hold his face & lick it & he grabs your bum firmly. Your lips connect for a really exceptional kiss full of lust, tongues dancing together, faces almost melting into each other. But that’s all he needs. He thrusts, & pumps & is relentless. Hitting the spot every thrust, the motion of him pounding your cunt, has you screeching quickly.

“Oooohhhh fuck fuck fuck oooh yes yes yesssss fuck oooh fuck” are the only words you can say, as your body shakes as you approach your orgasm.

“Best cunt, my cunt” he crys as he bites your bottom lip not wanting your lips to be apart. “Fucking this tight little pussy til you can’t take me baby”

Your sweating & moaning & the blood inside you is boiling with this feverish sex you are having. You grip the pillow as he gently puts his hand around your throat.

“Dont cum yet baby” he asks but you can tell from the creaking bed & the sloppy sensation as he keeps sliding within you, that he knows you can’t hold it for too long. “Tell me baby, what are you”

“A winner”

“No”

“A slut”

“No”

“The best sex of your life”

“Erm… I was after something else”

“Your cum hungry wife” you whine & then open your eyes as his grip around your neck gets tighter.

“That’s it baby, now you can cum mrs Bravo”

“Dieter!!!!!! Ooooh fuck” you clamp the hardest you ever had, your release sends shives to all your never endings as you cum & your body stutters.

“Damn oooh fuck oooh shit ooooh fuckkkkk” Dieter follows suit, filling you up. Your walls coated in his seed a few thrusts later. Satisfying you both. Your sweat drips onto him as you lay on top of him as your softly take him out of you & you hold each other close. You can feel everything drip out of you onto him but neither of you care about the mess after that incredible spontaneous session.

“So” you eventually whisper when you can make a noise, & lift your head. “I’m the best sex of your life?” Dieter blushes.

“Well when you make me lose control, yes you are” he smirks & boops your nose.

“Hmmm it’s a shame you’re not mine…” you say with a pause waiting for a reaction, you both no that no man has got you off as many times as Dieter in the few months you’ve had sex. But he doesn’t for one instant believe you, his happy little face gives you some side eye. “Of course you’re the best sex of my life Diets & you know I am a very good wife”

“Do you think bafta would hand out an award for best sex?” he asks

“No they aren’t coming to watch us”

You say sternly, Dieters had several sex tapes leak.

“Of course not but we’d win hands down baby” he jokes & you rest your head on him again.

“Do you think that’s the only way you’d win a bafta?” You ask

“Nah I’ve got everything I could ever want to win, right here & turns out I didn’t need a prize to validate how much I’m in love with you” his kiss is soft & he rolls on top of you for a much more sensual round, before you have to come to the realisation that your world has changed so much in not just the last 24 hours but the last few weeks & months since you finally got your amazing husband.

[spinjitsuburst]

Can you tell more abt morro in the cabinet man au im curious

MORROOOOOOOOOO

i love morro so SO much i couldn't stand the idea of not using him in the AU so i said fuck it its MY turn with the sad ghost man

season 5 and the day of the departed happen RIGHT before Prime Empire - at the end of the season, instead of succumbing to his death, Morro's arm gets grabbed last minute. But not by Wu.

By Lloyd

they end up saving Morro from his death that we see in the show. Morro doesn't understand. Lloyd... doesn't really understand it either. the experience of being possessed and forced to hurt his friends while trapped in his own body was horrible, sickening, terrifying.

But Lloyd can empathize with Morro all the same. And the idea of his uncle losing his adopted son not once but TWICE drove Lloyd to action before he could even process what he was doing

it takes quite a while but eventually the ninja and morro warm up to each other - i could probably write a whole fic in and of itself about that period of time but for now i'm just sticking with the aftermath of it -and Morro ends up getting revived along with Cole during the day of the departed

Morro doesn't fully stick around all the time - he spends a lot of time with Wu and the ninja, but he also really wants to rediscover himself and who HE wants to be, outside of the green ninja. he's actually not with the group when Prime Empire happens, so when he shows back up they suddenly have a sparking new member with pointed ears and a tail. They realize that maybe Morro could be the one to help Jay, who's in this strange state mentally of feeling like he's not really a person. He and Morro become close FAST, and end up being best friends

(a page from a comic that i'll probably never end up finishing at this point lmao)

like i said, morro kind of pops in and out of the AU - he's still trying to figure himself out and after everything, he's tired of fighting and just wants to spend time with his family and friends

so far i know he ends up being present in the Hands of Time, Tournament of Elements, Skybound, and Seabound. The other seasons are kind of up in the air as to whether he'll be involved or not

[unma]

hello im here to learn about the gideon naming reason

also yeah, machines are the coolest and I love them dearly 🤝

Okay so this is a rather simple one but one that gets a little laugh outta me when I think about it. Alright. Remember this guy?

Him. Yeah. Gilbert. The absolute monster that he is. We all hate him. Some of us hate hate him. I hate hate hate him, especially because Pholia and Echidna did not deserve the shit he put them through.

yeah.

I've mentioned it occasionally, but I am absolutely awful at remembering faces and names. I remember people more often by what they wear, their hair color and how they act and so on, and the same applies to characters. But this means that I will go "Oh, them," give an entire rant about why I want a character dead, and then proceed to not remember their name properly.

And because of that, I once called him Gideon. Specifically when @ashmonarch and I were discussing his Proud quest.

Ever since I made this mistake I have swapped between Gideon and Gilbert for him in my head, entirely by accident and also because I can't be bothered to actually remember his name properly. My hatred for him means I will never actually remember his name proper, and even if I do, I will swap out of spite just cause.

Anyway, my current laptop has been a pain in the ass ever since I got it (like, I literally spent an hour troubleshooting its audio the moment I got it) and is just... worse than my previous one in every way. No touch gestures, two charging ports and both are acting up, it also came with Win 11 which I despise (I never updated my older laptop) and seemingly runs worse than my previous laptop that had half the RAM. No, seriously. 16 gigs of RAM and I can't even play HI3 at a manageable framerate (and I played terraria for years at, like, 10fps, so I have low standards for that) if it even runs at all. Did I mention this thing has no touch gestures? That's so dumb. How am I supposed to use a laptop like that. Also, the function and control keys are swapped. Also, some of the keys have stopped working for no discernible reason, and I might have considered taking this thing to a repair shop or something, if I didn't just want it replaced in general. Oh yeah, no touch gestures. Did I mention that? Not only does that mean I can't use the touchpad as well as I did on my old laptop, the fucking right click button came off at some point and now I have to deal with awkwardly pressing the little circle button inside i. Which, again, wouldn't be a problem with the right click. Also the case is screwed in weirdly for some reason so I couldn't take off the back without fear of damaging it for a good while. Also this thing has bricked on me twice in the last couple of months. For literally no reason. Like it bricked a couple days ago because I tried to restart it. Literally fine 5 minutes ago and then that happens. Okay. Also the function keys are weird (I don't care about this one, it's fine actually, and useful in some places).

I think that large block of text of complaints says enough. I've been procrastinating getting it replaced, but only because I'm a tad busy atm. But in the meantime, having to deal with this hunk of junk means I've grown quite a dislike for it, especially because being a computer science major means I need a reliable computer. Also having it brick on me randomly when I want to write is not ideal.

I hadn't named laptops before, but then I saw someone I follow do the same and thought, huh, that's neat. So I bestowed upon this laptop the name that comes up when I think of things I hate. Gideon. I mean Gilbert. Well, maybe if Gilbert wasn't such an asshole he'd get his name actually properly used, but I hate him so it's Gideon.

And that's the story behind how I named this laptop Gideon.

Extra Gideon hate from when I was liveposting to discord about that arc (and a bit more from after) under the cut:

In general, my opinion on Gilbert comes down to this:

[vindieselsfacebook-blog]

Meaning/references behind every Gilmore Girls episode title - Season 3, Part 1

Hi friends! It's been a minute since my last installment in this little series I've been working on. I'm trying to make a definitive, clear, concise list of the meanings and references behind each episode title. I'm going season-by-season and filling in references when I catch them.

Some titles are quite obvious and literal, but many are clever references that emphasize themes and symbolism happening in the plot or character relationships. I like trying to figure them all out and wanted to share in case I have some wrong or people have caught references I've missed or didn't know writers may have spoken about, etc. ASP has such a deep well of pop culture knowledge, I enjoy mining it.

Masterlist: Season 1 Season 2, Part 1 Season 2, Part 2 Season 3, Part 1 Season 3, Part 2

My notes: - As always, please correct anything I've gotten wrong and share your own insight! - Many of these notes are pulled from and/or learned via annotatedgilmoregirls.com - an absolute icon! I claim no author originality. I'm just the one to compile/edit them. :) - Season 3 marks the first season that pulls literal quotes from episodes for some of the titles. That was never done in S1-2 at all and 5 times in S3!

Season 3, Part 1

Those Lazy, Hazy Crazy Days Those Lazy-Hazy-Crazy Days of Summer is a popular song composed by Hans Carste. It was originally written as "Du spielst 'ne tolle Rolle", with German lyrics by Hans Bradtke, and was first recorded under that title in 1962 by Willy Hagara. In 1963, it was recorded by Nat King Cole, with English lyrics written by Charles Tobias on a theme of nostalgia. The song serves as inspiration for and the soundtrack to Taylor’s First Annual Stars Hollow End of Summer Madness Festival. In keeping with the theme of madness, a barbershop quartet sings this song on a sanity-eroding permanent loop at the festival. It is performed by Mick Foster and Tony Allen in the show.

Haunted Leg Lorelai catches a cold and wishes for a more exotic illness. “I mean, I’d like to have a good illness, something different, impressive. Just once I’d like to be able to say, ‘Yeah, I’m not feeling so good, my leg is haunted.’”

Application Anxiety Rory has some reality checks and fears about her college application process as she finally receives her Harvard application. Lorelai uses the phrase when telling Rory about the Harvard alumni visit. 

This One's Got Class and the Other One Dyes The title is a reference to a line from a campy classic film trailer for On Her Majesty's Secret Service (a 1969 spy film and the sixth in the James Bond series), introducing Bond’s love interest (Teresa "Tracy" Bond, born Teresa "Tracy" Draco, and also known as the Contessa Teresa di Vicenzo) with the line “Diana Rigg as the Contessa - the different kind of Bond woman. This one’s got class and style.” Tracy is the girl Bond falls in love with and marries (technically he first marries in You Only Live Twice, but as an undercover ploy). She’s the first Bond girl to really show bravery, intelligence, and talent in her own right. She’s also the first to rescue Bond himself. “This one’s got class” has taken on a life of its own as a colloquialism to describe a version of something that’s the best of its kind - a high rating based on grade, quality and perceived worth. Although the title of this episode is ostensibly about the two different plots – Lorelai has to give a talk to a “class” while Lane “dyes” her hair – knowing this context, we know it mostly alludes to Rory seeing herself as the girl with “class”, while in comparison Shane is the one who dyes her hair platinum blonde and engages in PDA, meaning that she isn’t as “classy”. Quite possibly the most literal “not like the other girls” allusion in the show.

Eight O'Clock at the Oasis Midnight at the Oasis is a song written by David Nichtern. It was recorded in 1973 by American folk and blues singer Maria Muldaur for her self-titled album and is her best-known recording. The song is about an offer of a love affair in a fantasy desert location, and is considered to be one of the most sensual songs of the 1970s. It’s the song that plays as an alarm when Rory looks at the clock (reading eight o’clock) at Dwight’s house, which of course he nicknames “The Oasis”. 

Take the Deviled Eggs... Sherry pressures Lorelai and Rory to take leftover deviled eggs home after her baby shower. Lorelai rants on the way home: “’Take the deviled eggs!’ How many times did the woman say it? And then her drunken friends hear it and they’re all shouting, ‘Take the deviled eggs!’” Could possibly be referencing other turns of phrase involving taking a kind of food item. “Take the biscuit” is a British idiom meaning to be especially annoying or surprising or to be the worst or best of its kind. Similarly, to “take the cake” means to have ranked first, typically used to describe something that is very surprising, foolish, remarkable, or annoying. Both of these would describe Sherry’s baby shower. Perhaps even “take the mickey” or “take the piss”, British euphemisms for making fun of someone. “Mickey” is slang for “micturate” which means to urinate. Of course, the girls do in fact take the deviled eggs and end up throwing them at Jess’s car.

They Shoot Gilmores, Don't They? The title is a reference to the 1969 psychological drama film, They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?, directed by Sydney Pollack and based on the 1935 novel of the same name by Horace McCoy. Set during The Great Depression, the film focuses on a group of people desperate to win a dance marathon where they are ruthlessly exploited, and stars Jane Fonda, Michael Sarrazin, and Susannah York. The title comes from the fact that race horses are often shot once they break their legs to put them out of their misery. The film was a commercial success, and is regarded as one of the best films of its era. As in the film, this episode is about a dance marathon - although it isn’t nearly as dramatic as the one in the film.

Let the Games Begin The ancient Olympic Games were first opened in 776 BC with the announcement: “Let the games begin!” In this episode, the “game” that’s beginning refers to both Jess and Rory’s new relationship and Rory starting to consider Yale over Harvard. Lorelai says the phrase before Richard and Emily pick them up to visit Yale. 

Deep Fried Korean Thanksgiving Lorelai and Rory endeavor to attend four different Thanksgiving meals in one day, including Sookie’s which ends up being a deep fried fest thanks to Jackson’s family and the Kims’ which of course has some Korean flair.

That'll Do, Pig During Trix’s visit to the Independence Inn, Emily begins to eat her food very slowly, resenting how quickly Trix wants to rush them along according to her schedule. Lorelai quips: “That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.” which is a quote from Babe, a 1995 comedy-drama film directed by Chris Noonan, produced by George Miller, and written by both, based on the 1983 novel The Sheep-Pig, by Dick King-Smith. In the film, a grateful misty-eyed Farmer Hoggett says this line to the pig Babe after he has, against all odds, won a sheepdog trial, despite not being a dog. One of the most understated last lines in film history, it’s a dignified, restrained way for Lorelai to say Emily is doing very well provoking Trix.

I Solemnly Swear Lorelai is asked to give a deposition in support of Emily’s case against Gerta, her unfairly dismissed German maid. This is where the title presumably comes from, because “I solemnly swear” is how an oath to tell the truth taken in legal contexts begins. Meanwhile, Rory (the current student council vice president) deals with political drama at school between student council president Paris and senior class president Francie. A president’s oath of office also begins with “I solemnly swear.”

[astrum-aetherium]

OKAY so this is not a nsfw ask sorry but an angst ask :3 so anyways ever heard the song last kiss by taylor swift? if not its a super heart-wrenching song and i cried so hard listening to it once that i just fell on the floor for 5 minutes but anyways 😍 angst henry according to last kiss!! this can go either like the song is henry to his s/o or s/o to henry, but u can do what u want with his concept bc (to me at least) its far too juicy not to do anything LIKE…. “so i’ll watch your life in pictures like i used to watch you sleep, and i feel you forget me like i used to feel you breathe” AND “i hope the sun shines and its a beautiful day, and something reminds you you wish you had stayed” LIKE…. anyways this is ask is so chaotic im sorry i just woke up

aww, come on now!! i'm a diehard swiftie. i've been revisiting speak now exceptionally much over these past few weeks in anticipation of taylor's version, and i'm so, so excited. falling in love with those songs all over again will be so bittersweet as someone who has spent so much time loving taylor, i basically grew up with her art. additionally, as a former emo kid, i just cannot fucking wait for the fall out boy feature — i love them forever and i've seen them live twice. truly shaking inside. and hayley! ahhh!

now, to last kiss. this could go both ways: one could either stay true to the intention of the song, meaning that it'd solely be about a breakup, or apply it to the fact that henry died. one is certainly more painful than the other. i'll quickly outline both.

in a separation setting, i feel like the second quote you mentioned would be the most tremendous. i hope the sun shines and it's a beautiful day, and something reminds you you wish you had stayed — because of henry's characterization and essence, we can assume him to be more accustomed to gloomy weather. after all, he is known to carry around an umbrella at all times, therefore sort of anticipating or even invoking rain. you, however, would remind him of the very opposite, with your generally more positive disposition and the way you gilded his life. therefore, overly sunny weather would always remind him of you — you would clandestinely hope so, too — and he would be left wondering about your former beauty as a pair and reminisce on it, even. he would see you reflected in each sunray, be reminded of your touch with each coat of warmth the sun would encapsulate him in. there simply would be no way around you.

as for his death, the former line fits perfectly. so i'll watch your life in pictures like i used to watch you sleep. i shall add another one: hope it's nice where you are. and: so i'll go sit on the floor wearing your clothes. this is true, raw bereaved longing — it makes the song's meaning stike about a thousand times harder, especially with the motif of a last kiss, because one more often than not does not know when it happens. you would miss him forever. looking at the scarce selection of pictures of him (or of you together) and pretending the person in them still exists and isn't confined in the dirt somewhere. wearing the remainder of his clothes you still own that somehow still have his scent adhered to them, cherishing them, sleeping in them with the intention to feel his closeness again. hoping he is well wherever he is, and might be watching out for you. reminiscing on that last kiss.

it's so early in the morning right now, lol. don't know how fitting the setting is for thoughts like these. but oh well. hope this did your request justice! i love myself some angst, especially when it comes to henry. it's truly electrifying how good it can get.

[kvalenagle]

It's a chaotic week, and there's no better way to greet a grumpy Wednesday than with this @merteazy Blinky art <3 It's a week of doctor visits and medical tests, which always leaves me grumpy because I can't always get any editing done. Pridelord is mostly through line edits, which are going fairly fast, but I needed to take a break to add in a new Whisper scene. I'll avoid spoilers, but there was a subplot I considered taking on to Saberbeak before finishing it, and when I was doing my line edits, I realized that I had the perfect moment to pay it off right then. It just required a few nudges. Most books don't get scenes added in the line edit phase, but the large ones like Ashen Weald or Crackling Sea had the same thing come up. If you're new to book creation, everyone is a little different, but my novels usually go through the following phases. Story-related ones are slow, the rest can be as fast as a single day or two. 1. I write the book. This is actually the first and second draft. Before I start writing for the day, I read and edit what I wrote yesterday. That helps keep it fresh in my mind. I ran a test early on when it took me an hour to write a thousand words, and I found that if I had just read/edited the last thousand words I wrote, it took about 30 minutes, and the writing went twice as fast. So this turned out to be a 'free' second edit as I went along. 2. I read through it in Scrivener (the most common novelist word processor) and make changes. My goal here is to fix story issues, foreshadowing, etc. 3. I read through it out loud with my spouse. My brain will often leap from A to D, and his brain needs B and C to be there. If I'm reading it out loud, he can tell me what he needs to make sure the logic flows, and I can usually find a way of saying it that works perfectly for me, too. And reading aloud catches some errors that I wouldn't normally find. 4. I hand it off to my developmental editor, Dustin Porta, and my beta readers. These steps used to be separate, but there's a lot of redundancy here. It's also a case where sometimes Dustin has a feeling but we need data from how fans think. A lot of Foultner and Henders scenes get saved here. I'll go through his feedback (~500+ fixes, some bigger than others), and go through beta feedback. Beta reader probably deserves its own post, but the biggest problem with editing isn't finding problems... it's the author editing out the good parts. Beta readers are flagging their favorite bits first, before the mistakes, so I don't delete, say, Cherine from the novel. 5. I print it out and do a line edit myself. This fixes prose, pacing, language, imagery, and echoes. This is about making sure the language compliments the story and doesn't detract from it. 6. It goes off to Tim Marquitz, my copy editor. This is spelling/grammar/etc. He catches the grammar things that're invisible to me. 7. I do a final printed read-through with a green pen (things I want to fix but probably shouldn't so I don't introduce new errors) and red pen (things that if I saw in someone else's book, I'd consider an error, and must fix.) There's usually a proofreader in here, too. You expect to catch 95% errors from each pass. This is often when the Patreon supporters get their ebook version =] Though it gets updated with the release version if typos are found after here. 8. The audiobook narrator, James Scott Spaid, begins recording the book. He'll always catch some things that got past everyone else by virtue of saying them out loud and doing the sound engineering. Once he finishes, I listen through, suggest changes if any come up, and an audio proofreader comes in. Usually once I've listened, Patreons get the audiobook. And during this phase, the final formatting and printed proofs are happening since the page count is finalized even if a typo or two gets fixed. And that's it =] Eight big steps from start to finish. The first steps are by far the slowest because they involve story changes.

[perplexedflower]

Love On The Rocks - Chapter 3: Mojito

Fandom: Supernatural.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Crowley x Female Reader.

Type: 5-chapter fanfiction.

Summary: Being the King of Hell has its ups, but it also has its downs. And these downs lead Crowley straight into a bar, where he finds something far greater than just a glass of whisky: the love of its bartender, a young woman who is oblivious to the demon's nature. But one evening, he does not show up at the bar at his usual time, and his newfound love finds herself exposed unwillingly to everything that has been hiding under her nose this whole time…

Chronology: Season 10.

~~~~~~~~~~

And there it came again: that regular day of the week that had become so special to me. The last day of the week, yet the one that held the most promise. Sunday.

He'll surely drop by once again, a third time, just as he has done twice already...

With this thought in mind, I made the bold assumption that he would come, and so I decided to get his drink ready beforehand: by then, I was already used to his habits and expected him to once again ask me to fill his glass with Glencraig whisky.

I did not have to wait long for Crowley to walk through the bar's front door and make his way to the counter while he bore a smile directed my way; but as he sat down, and before he could even engage in a conversation with me, I turned around to grab his drink before I turned back to face him and set it down on the counter in front of him.

"Here's your Craig."

Upon seeing me serve him, his eyes widened a little, and I could tell by his expression that he had not anticipated my behavior.

"I haven't even given you my order yet." He said as he smiled at me curiously.

I stared into his eyes, set both of my elbows down on the counter, then rested my chin on the back of my hands.

"You don't have to." I told him with a smile of my own.

And after that, the rest of our night went down exactly the same way the first two had: the two of us became more familiar with one another while I filled his glass with the same liquor every now and then. That evening, I even confessed to Crowley that I did not know a single thing about Scotland - despite working at a Scotland-themed bar - aside from classic Scottish alcoholic drinks. To this, he said he could tell me all about Scotland, all I needed and had to know, and so he did; I was so interested in hearing what he had to teach me that this branch of our conversation occupied quite a significant part of our night. And during that entire time, I watched him speak, charmed by how passionate he was to tell me about this country he seemed to be so attached to.

By the end of the evening, he had left the bar after having left me a tip, as he had done twice already; deep down, I was sad to see him go, because I had not met someone like him in a long time, and I had come to cherish these Sunday evenings we spent together. Deep down, I was saddened by the thought that I would have to wait another week, another Sunday to see him again. But to my surprise, something I had not expected happened the next evening: he came back again, breaking his pattern of Sundays. And this was when I truly understood he was no longer coming to the Golden Cross for his Craig anymore, but for me.

And so, he came back again the next night. And then the next. And then the next. And then the next. Until he didn't.

By then, the two of us had set up a routine we were both aware of: Crowley came down to the bar every evening, always at the same hour, sat at the very same seat, to order the same drink every time. But one night, he did not show up; I waited for him to walk through the front door at the usual time, as always, but when I looked at the time on my phone I saw a minute had passed, yet he still was not there.

He may just be a bit late... which is no big deal at all. Everything's probably fine.

After having given myself reassurance, I went back to serving customers, all while I waited for him. But as the minutes passed, he had still not arrived, and I started to grow worried; at one point, I stood still as I took my phone out to check the time once more, then I clutched it tight in my hand.

I know there's something between us, I can feel it... and I'm sure he can feel it too... so... what if he's already taken, and has realized flirting with me every night is wrong?

I hated to think of this possibility, yet I could not help but think about it: I then told myself it must be something else, it had to be something else, because I wanted it to be something else.

But if that's not it, then... why isn't he here? What if something's happened to him? What if he's had an accident, or if he's in trouble?

I realized this explanation was not much better, so I shook my head in hopes to try and quiet down my imagination, which was running too wild.

Or... he's just busy. Yeah, I'm sure he's just real busy this evening, and had to work overnight, so he can't make it to the Golden Cross... that's it.

While I stared at my phone, I wondered whether or not to give him a call, or even just text him, to ask him if everything was alright on his end, but I did not dare for fear of coming off as nosy: the previous evening, he had asked me for my number, which had surprised me because this had been the first important step he was taking toward the development of our relationship, but not as much as when I had asked for his in exchange and that he had replied to me his number was '666'. I theorized he had somehow gotten his number custom-made, for the fun of it. But no matter what his phone number was, I did not dare make a move: although we had not yet texted each other since we had exchanged numbers, I did not want to ruin my chances with him by showing him how paranoid and clingy I could be.

I turned my head to the counter on which rested a lonely glass filled with Glencraig whisky, and my expression turned sad as I looked at it. I set my phone down on the counter and reached for the glass, before I slowly brought it up to my lips: the taste was peaty and sharp, with a long finish of citrus and tobacco notes, and upon tasting it, I thought it suit Crowley very well and somehow matched his personality. Just as I was closing my eyes to fully take in the drink, I heard my phone go off with the sound of a notification: I immediately opened my eyes back and set the glass back down as I picked my phone up with both hands. My screen lit up and I could read a text from Crowley himself: "Ambassador Hotel, penthouse suite. Could use your help."

My eyes had barely finished reading the end of the text I had already put my phone back inside my jeans pocket and was making my way to the coat rack near the front door; I removed my jacket from it then turned around, and I did not have to search for long before I spotted Ed, who I called from afar. He turned around upon hearing my voice mixed in with the numerous others resonating throughout the bar, and as he started to walk towards my direction, I put my jacket on while I told him I had to go right away and leave the bar on the account of an emergency: and before he had time to reply anything back to me, I opened the door and stepped out in a hurry.

I know Ed won't be angry at me for leaving work so early, we've known each other for a long time now and he's a good friend, I thought while on the way to my car, I'll make it up to him by working longer the next few nights, I'm sure that'll be enough for him. But right now, I have no other choice. I had to leave. Crowley needs me.

The word 'help' kept echoing within my mind: I had no idea what kind of trouble he was in, but if the word 'help' needed to be brought up, then it had to be something of grave importance.

I got to my car and hopped in then quickly started the engine; I did not need to set up a GPS course to the hotel's address, given I knew where it was, and I also knew it was about 20 minutes away from the Golden Cross. While on the road, my thoughts only grew more and more tangled, until my brain was nothing but a mess; but I was lucid enough to understand that time was of the essence.

If Crowley sent me a text instead of having called me, it must be because he wanted to let me know as quickly as possible. And if he couldn't even take the time to write a properly structured message, then he must be in some kind of danger.

After having driven for 20 minutes, I arrived at the hotel and parked my car as fast as I could, then I made my way inside the building: I soon arrived at the hallway entrance, and I quickly realized I was way underdressed for a place such as this one. Around me were all fancily-dressed customers, either checking in or out of this 4-star hotel, and I felt out of place. But it did not matter to me, and I pushed these thoughts aside by walking up to the front desk and asking on which floor the penthouse suite was. After having been told it was on the last floor, I thanked the receptionist and made my way to the elevator; fortunately for me, I was the only one inside, which meant I could allow myself not to contain my stress and let it out. I pressed the button to the last floor, and the doors closed as the elevator went up. Once the doors opened again, I stepped into the large empty hallway: my rapid footsteps were muffled by the long purple velvet carpet which adorned the wooden flooring.

Once I got closer to the penthouse suite's front door, I slowed my pace until I came to a stop when I arrived in front of it. Up until this very moment, a knot had been forming and tightening in my stomach, but it tightened even further when I looked down at the handle and noticed the door was not closed all the way. A part of me got the feeling something was waiting for me inside the room, something bad, but I found it in myself to be brave and grabbed the handle decisively: I swung the door open and took a determined step inside, then a second one, then a third, but before I could walk any deeper into the suite, I was stopped dead in my tracks.

There he was. Crowley. On the floor. Somewhat sitting, somewhat lying down. In a pool of his own blood.

"Jesus Christ!"

The horrifying sight made me press both of my hands against my chest as I took a step backward. But what troubled me even more was to see Crowley was still alive: when he heard me scream, he turned his head to me and bore an expression that seemed way too casual for the situation.

"Ah, I see you got my text, good."

I remained frozen, my eyes fixed on him, but I still managed to process what he was telling me, and only then did I realize I had not replied to the S.O.S text he had sent me; I had been so worried and afraid that I had not even taken the time to let him know I was on the way.

"... Well?"

His voice pulled me out of my thoughts and I snapped back to reality. And what a reality it was. My gaze had not moved from him, and I could see him raise his eyebrows at me while he moved his arms with slight difficulty.

"Are you gonna stand there all evening, or are you gonna give me that help I asked for?"

When I finally understood he wanted me to come his way, I blinked a couple of times repeatedly before I gulped.

"Well— I— Uh— It's— I—"

I could not help but stutter while I shook my head slightly: everything about this was simply too crazy, weird, and bloody. But as my eyes were still connected to his, I could read in them the way he was calling me to him, and I finally managed to take a few steps forward. While I walked, I looked around me a little and noticed Crowley was not the only thing in the room that was out of place: the furniture had also been turned upside-down and was either damaged or broken.

"What... the fuck went down here?"

By the time I finished asking my question, I had reached him and had stopped right in front of him: I looked down at him, the scarlet red puddle so close to me now. He stared down at the ground while sighing before he turned his head to the side with an angry expression.

"I got attacked by a group of—... Of guys. They broke down the front door and barged into the room like madmen. I put up a fight—"

"Yeah, I can see that." I interrupted him as I looked at the shattered glass table nearby.

"But these bastards had to play dirty, and they shot me."

"Yeah, I can see that!" I interrupted him again, this time with my voice raised and while I looked down at him.

He closed his eyes and exhaled a deep breath.

"I'll be fine, don't worry."

"Like hell you will!"

I was so on edge that I was not able to control the volume of my voice and expressed all my emotions without any filters: and by the look in Crowley's eyes, I understood he could easily interpret them as they were. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, fear and anxiety spreading throughout my body, but by silently staring into his eyes, their gentleness and affection helped me calm down a little.

"... The guys who jumped you, where are they now?" I asked after I had caught my breath.

"I don't know, they forgot to pass me a note telling me where they headed when they left the suite." He answered me with a hint of sarcasm.

"They bailed?" I asked with my eyebrows furrowed. "They just left you to die on the floor and ran away? Why didn't they finish you off while they were at it?"

It was only after I had finished my sentence that I realized my last question had come off as quite blunt and inappropriate; I leaned toward him in an attempt to apologize.

"I-I mean—"

"Look." He cut me off before I could continue. "They're not here anymore, you are, everything's peachy. Now, will you give me a hand?"

"You keep asking me that, but what exactly do you want me to do?" I questioned him with confusion. "I'd prefer not to move you until we wait for 9-1-1 to get here..."

A somewhat awkward silence settled between the two of us.

"... We're not calling 9-1-1."

He spoke as though he was stating the obvious, with a hint of judgment, but upon hearing him say this, I lost what was left of my mind.

"... What?!"

I could feel the muscles of my face contorting as I looked down at him.

"Crowley, you're— You're fucking dying!"

The atmosphere in the room became heavy as my words were left to hang in the air. And I suddenly felt tears run down my cheeks, tears I had not felt coming. Tears which betrayed the way I truly felt.

"I'm not—" He said with a soft tone. "... Not really."

I closed my eyes while I shook my head.

"This is nuts, it's fucking insane... What the fuck's happening?"

"[Y/N], look at me."

At the same time as I heard his words, I suddenly felt a moderately strong grip on my forearm, which made me open my eyes: I looked down at him, as he had asked me, and despite my blurry vision, I could see the tenderness in his eyes.

"I wish you hadn't been involved in all this, but now you are, and you're the only one who can help me."

I kept staring into his eyes and could read sincerity and honesty within them.

"So please, help me out."

I could feel his grip on my arm progressively loosen, and I soon understood it was because he was having trouble maintaining his strength; I took a deep breath in while I looked to the side.

"Fine."

I slowly kneeled down in front of him, which inevitably stained my clothes with his blood.

"What do you want me to do?"

He exhaled a sigh of relief to see I was finally willing to give him a hand.

"Do you have your pocket knife on you?" He asked me as he accompanied his question with a sign of the head.

"The one my father gave me?"

Before I left him time to answer my rhetorical question, I reached for the back pocket of my jeans and pulled out the said pocket knife.

"Of course, I always carry it around with me." I replied as I presented it to him.

Without a word, he reached for my hand, took the knife from me, and unfolded it.

"Now..." Crowley started while he looked down at his left shoulder, in which was a bullet wound.

He steadily held up the blade in his right hand before he looked straight up at me.

"You're going to help me remove all these."

My eyes widened upon hearing his request and I opened my mouth while I put my hands in front of myself.

"And before you start panicking again, I'll show you how to do it." He continued before I could speak.

My mouth remained open yet silent for a few more seconds.

"... I'm a bartender!" I finally said. "I've never done something like this before, Crowley!"

"And that's precisely why I'm going to show you how to do it!"

I could hear by the tone of his voice that he was upset with my stubbornness, but I noticed that aside from annoyance, he did not necessarily express any kind of physical exhaustion.

How can he keep on talking and moving given his state? And even more so, how hasn't he dropped dead yet, even though he seems to have been in such poor shape for way over half an hour now?

Although it was extremely odd to me that he was still kicking, I decided to use this as a way to remain calm and gulped before I exhaled.

"A-Alright."

Crowley proceeded to show me how to remove the bullets from his bullet wounds: you dig the knife into the flesh and keep digging while you search around for the tip of the bullet, then once you can feel it, dig it out with the point of the blade, and help it out with your fingers if need be. Listening to him, he made it sound so easy, but when I looked at him do it, I felt as though I was going to throw up.

After having removed the bullet from his left shoulder, he moved on to his right, which was also wounded, then his chest, then his arms. And he seemed so calm and collected every time, as if he had done it a million times before. And the more times I looked at him doing it, the more comfortable I became with the idea of doing it myself. Once he was done removing all the bullets that had riddled his upper body, he handed me over the bloody knife, and I could swear he was already looking much better physically now that they had been dug out.

"Now's your turn, darling." He said as he pointed to his legs with both a sign of the head and his right index finger. "There are only two bullets left for you to remove, one in each leg."

I looked somewhat upset and blushed slightly while I grabbed the knife from his hand.

"Wow, introducing pet names in such a moment. Is now really the time you want to take our relationship somewhere?"

I could hear him scoff as I looked down at his left leg: I had been mentally preparing for this moment to come for many long minutes and was expecting to surely freak out, but with the sheer mention of our 'relationship', my stress diminished greatly, replaced by thoughts regarding him.

"God... I wish you'd never walked through that door." I spoke softly, with a sigh.

My words may have sounded harsh, but with the gentle tone in which they had been said, Crowley knew as well as I knew that I did not mean them.

"Alright, tell me if it hurts. And sorry if it hurts."

I slowly dived the point of the knife into his skin and tried my best to follow the explanation he had given me; while I was searching around for the bullet, I looked down at his leg and shook my head lightly while my brow furrowed.

"Goddamn... The fuckers really went to town on you."

He kept silent, but he did not need to speak for me to understand he felt great resentment for his attackers; in silence, I found the tip of the bullet inside the wound and dug it out, sending it to fly and hit the ground with a clink.

"Done!"

I felt proud of myself, not only to have overcome my stress, but successfully so at that.

"Now, remove that last one and I'll finally be able to get back on my feet."

I was about to get to work when a thought crossed my mind.

"Say... why do I have to remove these two for you? You dug out all the other ones, why couldn't you have taken care of these last two as well?"

Crowley seemed somewhat perplexed by my question and looked as though he was searching for an answer.

"These bullets are... not regular bullets." He finally said after a few seconds. "I'll tell you about them in detail later."

I was not fully convinced by his ominous answer, but now was not the time to question what he was saying.

I'll ask him to be more specific after we're out of this situation.

I leaned forward to be closer to his right leg and began to work on it in silence. The room remained quiet as my bloodied hand fished around for the presence of metal within his flesh.

"... Listen, [Y/N], there's something I've got to tell you."

I listened to him but did not reply anything back and simply let him speak, too focused on my butchering.

"There are things you don't know about me... Things I should've told you sooner..."

My blade came in contact with the last bullet still present in his body and I flung it out in one flick of the wrist: the second it exited the bullet wound, I looked up at him with a smile, ready to tell him we were finally done.

"[Y/N], I'm—"

But before he could finish his sentence, and before I could even start mine, a loud bang was suddenly heard behind the two of us: I quickly turned around and saw a group of men had barged into the suite and was now making its way to us.

"Hey, what the—"

But before I could continue, I suddenly felt multiple pairs of hands grab me all over and pull me up from the ground, which made me drop my pocket knife to the floor.

"Hey, let me go!"

I struggled to try and get out of their grasp, but their collective strength was far greater than mine: all I managed to do was extend my arm at Crowley, whose figure was growing more and more distant as the men dragged me away from him.

"Crowley—"

My shout was cut short by an excruciating pain I suddenly felt in the back of my head, and through my blurry vision, I could make out his silhouette trying to reach out for me.

"[Y/N]!"

Then everything went dark.

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

fuckin nanowrimo progress (i’m strugglin’) (days 1-4)

word count before beginning: 10,995

chapters completed: 3/21

chapters outlined beforehand: 11/21

(will update those top statistics every week probably :))

okay I’ll fuckinnnnnnn do this. days 1 - 4 of nanowrimo, condensed in a singular post because no way am I making one individual post every time. formatting this Update sorta like @/callipraxia’s because it’s actually very fun to read and short! cramming soooooo HERE WE GO

day 1:

words written: 1099.

writing sessions had: 1

percentage of manuscript completed: 2%

goal reached?: nope. 568 words behind.

scenes/chapters worked on: 1, and Chapter 4.

interactions written: some quick context of what’s gonna happen in this installment. we meet hastur, see how normal and burning his life in hell is, before getting summoned by beelzebub with a very odd order: go to earth and literally just attack aziraphale unprovoked. they don’t give any reasons for this, don’t even tell hastur to capture him or anything useful, just hurt him. there IS a reason, obviously, and it’s actually pretty valid, but we don’t know that yet. and we won’t until a good bit later….

curse words/nicknames (in-world and otherwise) used: eight. one derogatory ‘pet’ and two derogatory ‘angel’ from the demons and me quietly cursing hastur to kingdom come very quietly . I’ve been logging them. I wanted a random statistic okay? they’re fun.

amount of breaks had in between: one bathroom break. I didn’t take that long tho so it doesn’t really factor in much

random thought of the day: how the fuck do I write in hastur’s voice. his voice is fucking. weird. schrodinger’s voice. is he british is he from wales like what IS THIS FUCKING THING???

day 2:

words written: 1858!!!

writing sessions had: 3. two small ones with a big one in between :)

percentage of manuscript completed: 6%

goal reached?: YES! 191 words over the minimum too!

scenes/chapters worked on: 2, and still Chapter 4.

interactions written: the first one was a brief interlude of domesticy. aziraphale and crowley were just chilling at a cafe watching a few humans struggling with some coins placed and glued to the sidewalk by crowley for a bit of entertainment. crowley, however, is suspicious of aziraphale’s apparently innocent intentions with this date day. he will be right eventually.

and scene two is just the very beginning, because I couldn’t do much more afterwards. crowley and aziraphale are just having a nice walk before the atmosphere changes drastically and crowley gets tackled like an american football player. things only get better from there /sarc

curse words/nicknames (in-world and otherwise) used: four. crowley calls aziraphale angel twice, aziraphale drops a ‘dear’, and crowley uses ‘blessed’ once. I didn’t curse anyone at all!

amount of breaks had in between: soooooo I kind derailed for like 30 minutes to eat some pancakes. I was hungry and the opportunity came so perfectly I just. things happened! I still got my limit tho so hell yeah

random thought of the day: why are this fuckers so fucking romantic. Stop It 🫵 also apparently hastur’s signature weapon is a crowbar according to my Two Fics with hastur in it (this and another). He used a crowbar once in the show and I was like yeah. yeah that’s his weapon now🔥

day 3:

nothing. I couldn’t write that day, sadly. tired as hell

day 4:

words written: 568

writing sessions had: 2

percentage of manuscript completed: 7%. i should've been at 13. crying

goal reached?: nnnnopre. 1667 - 568 = 1099. ironic, isnt it? so. ironic. right? yeah. its weird isnt it. inversion. like i missed 2 days instead of one. i am on the brink of extinction

(also i just realized that the daily word count increases by the day. day 1 is 1667 and day 5 is 1788. i am actuallly about to die)

scenes/chapters worked on: 1, and STILL chapter 4. i plan for today (nov 5th) to be thr last chapter 4 day PLEASE ITS 5K WORDS

interactions written: the first is a brief acknowledgement of the demon brave enough to comediacly tackle The Demon Crowley very bravely. the second is aziraphale and hastur, who very kindly wacked him acrosd the head and was very confused when all that did was make him stumble a bit. hit him again, didnt even get him to his knees. he switched to a Fear Tactic after the third.

the third is crowley and hastur, who did their song and dance. it was funny ngl. the final one was aziraphale and crowley, who debated on whether or not to flee to the shop and if demons can follow them inside. concensus: no. probably.

(btw, i measure words by using the FINAL word count afterwards, like whats been added to the day before, so these sound like longass interactons they are. either i had them before already and i added on or Smething Else. idk im tired)

curse words/nicknames (in-world and otherwise) used: none that i can remember. im not gonna go back and check atm

amount of breaks had in between: derailed very intensely eighteen minutes in *i was usingthe stopwatch today* to rearrange like 3 chapters of my outline and introduce a new subtle miscommunication plot point that will probably break at least One person's heart. thats the desired outcome. why cant these guys TALK

random thought of the day: wow i dont know how to write this guy (hastur). hey you think he should use that power where he can eat the inside out of someone's body. yeah lets use that its nightmare fuel ✨️ HASTUR LA VISTA!??!??!?!

and day five’s gonna be it’s own post soon. so. yes. gonna answer my asks first tho bc they are very important to me. either way, I’m back on track now and it took me TIME but I’m MAKIN IT!!!!!!!!! I WILL!!! WISH ME LUCK PEOPLE BECAUSE GUESS FUCKING WHATTTTTT I HAVE TO DO ERRANDS TODAY!!! AND WRITE 5K WORDS WHEN I GET BACK!!!! IM SO TOTALLY READY FOR THAT :))) *eye twitch* have a good day, guys. or, if you’re ferret, a good night/early morning . hi stanley 👋👋

[afarcryfrommymain]

I like cult Aphid bc I like writing and drawing characters with something wrong with them™️ but the amount of prerequisites for him to join and STAY is a lot because he's got a lot wrong with him without also joining a cult, it takes some heavy fuckin lifting. So I'm just going over bullet points for this au in this post tbh.

1. Sister has to visit his home a little after he moves to Hope County, before the cult is at its worst and before he really properly starts at the sherrifs office

2. Has to meet John in a friendly setting prior to this and able to stand him enough to actually become his friend. (He absolutely cannot meet Sharky in this au until after its too late because it will become about them and its supposed to be JohnxAphid)

3. Big fight between him and Ruby which causes him to go over to Johns house and rant for 30 minutes about how he's got no one and he's sick of his family

(Alternatively Ruby dies but I really hate killing her just to make my boy sad in general and I don't like the idea of killing her until like, New Dawn time maybe and even then its like blaze of glory shit, its also more interesting for her to be alive in this au)

4. This prompts John to get him to join Edens gate, hes on the fence about joining but he's sort of considering, but like he's heard all the bs you have to do to join and isn't exactly jazzed at the idea of it. Hes also incredibly weary of a lot of religion because of his childhood n shit but let's not talk about that.

5. Aphid hops on the denial train when shit begins to hit the fan and Ruby trying to help gets into it with him again but this time its like "hey lil bro, I noticed your gay ass is about to join a cult so maybe don't?" And another fight and hes like "fuck it" and joins out of spite (dipshit)

6. Now he has to have good reason to stay in, which I'm genuinely not sure about outside of like, him and John start dating and he's like "fuck it" and leans into it. Like dating for long enough that it's at the "meet the family" kinda point.

7. He also can't be around for the first time Faith gets replaced because he could ignore it if it happens once (king of "not my business not my problem" in this au fr) but probably not twice

8. Continues to ride the denial train for a while but eventually when the reaping begins he doesn't really stay because he believes in it or whatever but because he just knows enough members of the project that he doesn't want to fight them anymore and kinda drops out of his job at the sherrifs office one day without 2 weeks notice or anything. (Point of no return for him, this point forward he can't be convinced to leave by anyone or anything)

9. Ruby will have to to take place of "main problem causer" this au (I finally let her do something woah) and the resistance generally sees her like "oh sorry your brother went crazy I think you gotta kill him tho??? Sorry"

10. Can't tell which Seeds die or if Aphid works really fucking hard to keep em around, John makes it because Aph is consistent in protecting people he loves in every au fr but they lose the bunker key in the process. Same with Jacob maybe.

11. Faith is difference bc Ruby is a bleeding heart with a savior complex and completely falls for the front she puts up and is like "but we gotta help her 🥺" but Faith does get to leave the project (sorta kinda, it's a whole thing) and survives

12. Dude idk if I can keep her from shooting Joseph and I kinda want her to fr like he starts doing his speech and she does not let him finish. Aphids busy with keeping his very pissed off boyfriend, the brother who looked like he was about to be cool with death, and the members he was able to get to safe. He doesn't even realize he straight forgot about Joseph til its too late.

13. Ruby does a broadcast about Joseph and asks Aphid one last time to come back but he's all in now and probably isnt gonna back out anytime soon. He still goes to confront her and since Aphid might as well be a raid boss theres a big show down between the two of them. They're fighting and Ruby gets really close to killing him but she hesitates because "fuck that's my brother, I raised him, I love him, this is so fucked"

14. In the minutes she hesitates the collapse comes. It's late, but it happens and Aphid just bolts to the bunker he had holed up with John in up until that point. Can't decide who Ruby's bunker buddy is. Could stick her with the Edens Gate people and have fun new issues but who knows.

That's the broad strokes though, probably won't write anything for this past a one shot or two if I feel like it but I thought it'd be fun to lay it all out like tism

[oennpellmell]

Impossibly to escape an imminent doom.

I dream about the destruction of either the place I live in (may it be a real place or something I create in my sleep), by various catastrophes (fire, tornado, eruption, war… a black hole???) or simply the world/humanity, by Armageddon like event. Sometimes by aliens, sometimes by a space object, more often because it has reach its time. The worse is the destruction of our universe.

The dread comes from my attempts to escape the upcoming doom and failing to do so on time, especially when it is the universe disappearing.

I have those dreams since age 7. Before that age, my stress dreams were more oriented over a dark shape hunting me or my family to kill us (wave of spiders, wave of ants, black goo, dark smoke, shadow etc…). They started when I was 4.

On good time, I stress dream twice a month. Right now, it is about two to three times a week. The last one was three days ago, and I dreamed about Aliens taking possession of our skin to invade us. I escaped with my partner but could only save 1 of my three cats before our location was wiped out. I woke up and cried for 5 minutes because I failed my kitties.

I tend to redo my stress dreams so when it happens, I eventually take control via lucid dreams and try new approaches to avoid previous failures. The dreams usually stop to reoccur when I finally escape.

I had one peculiar dream that, during a very severe depression, I did every night for a month (September month to be precise). The peculiarity of it? I was picking up the story where left it on the previous night. No matter how many times I woke up terrorized (about 13 times per night), the dream never changed nor reseted. I was forced to dream it and the dangers I was trying to escape by waking up, couldn’t be avoided. So I had to reflect on a solution while awake, to get out of the upcoming death once asleep. It was like living a game irl.

That dream was my own version of the « War of the worlds » and believe me, escaping tripods and watching people being disintegrated next to me for a whole month is exhausting. The dream stopped when I found a working car and drove away in a remote area in the mountains. Far away from the invasions. My last image of it was me in my car, passing an ad board for Coca Cola and entering a very woody vallon, with a glimpse of a sunrise.

10 years later, I redid the beginning of that dream (which started with dust falling from the sky). I remember telling my myself: « Wait. I have seen that before. I know where this will lead. A bomb is going to blast nearby and tripods will show up. Fuck, hell no, I am not going through that shit again!»

So I told everyone around me what was about to happen and dragged them all down a subway (which I didn’t do the first time) just before the bomb blew. I saved lots of people. We walked further down the subway and remained there, underground, for the entirety of my dream.

*"stress dream" = dreams you get when under large amounts of stress or anxiety irl, that may or may not relate to your current situation irl.

[solemn-siren]

Siren recommends: Japanese kids shows

So while researching about one of my favorite shows, I found out through NHK WORLD PREMIUM you can watch Japanese TV programs from roughly anywhere in the world.

I’m not a tech kid so you’re gonna have to figure out all the tech stuff… but what I can help you with is suggesting two of my favorite kids shows from NHK that also broadcast to world premium! They’re aimed at kids of all ages so it might be useful for learning Japanese!

all times shown are in EST! I also suggest keeping an eye on the official schedule because things could change: https://nhkworldpremium.com/en/schedules

Go! Go! CookR’n! (Mon - Wed)

Yup, right off the bat it’s a show about cooking.

However while the cooking is the main focus, there is also an animated story that is actually intriguing! The story is about two siblings named Luna and Soleil who are on a mission to find out what happened to their dead parents, who used to be the legendary hero CookR’n.

I talked about this show previously but it’s such a gem. The characters are great, and whenever they do a collab it’s always chaotic and hilarious.

Whiz-Kids TV (Tues-Fri)

Once again like CookR’n, this is a variety show that showcases a variety of stuff, too much for me to name, but also has a story that airs once every two(?) weeks. It’s also MY CHILDHOOD FAVORITE SHOW AND I STILL LOVE IT

There’s this world called “Geo-world” where the main symbol of the world is this giant tree. The leaves are made from energy, born when a human challenges themselves to try new things. One day all that energy on the tree was stolen by the Mononoke family, who live on the other side of Geoworld.

17 elementary and junior high school kids are chosen to help restore the tree by fighting TV Zombies who are stealing energy from humans. The official site has 5 minute recap videos for all the episodes so far.

They also do live broadcasts on Thursdays. And yes the tree had its energy stolen TWICE not including the initial theft. (The second was like last Thursday whoops)

[tehlittletoaster]

day 1 of being a camp counselor

i’ve been here for about 24 hours with campers. here are somethings i’ve learned about my kids aged 6-8:

- they hate listening to you when you’re telling them they can’t do something they find fun. these girls wanted to roll down a hill. in the middle of the woods. known for having ticks. they wanted to swing between their metal bunk beds. they were running at 10pm in the dark, not caring about falling and breaking something. and they won’t stop.

- they will believe anything you tell them. they think my name is toaster, that i’m 190 years old, and my parent’s names are tree and rock. 

- E N E R G Y . they didn’t want to go to bed until 11:30pm last night. i get staying up late, but we are staying up until at least 10:30 tonight and i reminded them that at least 5 times before going to bed, we still had to yell at them. 

- they love swimming. for our entire activity before pool, they would not shut up about going to the pool. every five minutes, it’d be like, “when can we go to the pool?” “are we going to the pool now?” “can we leave for the pool now?” mind you these are BABIES wanting to go swim in chlorinated water. why? i do not know. i also just hate pools. 

- sensitive. little. beings. one of my littles failed the swim test because they kept grabbing onto the wall while taking it (whats the point of the test if we know you can just hold onto the walls?), and they would not. stop. crying. for what was probably only 5 minutes but it felt like forever. they kept saying “i hate shallow!” or “i like swimming!” even after telling them many times that i have never swam in that side of the pool (true, i’ve been going here since i was her age and still have never gone on the deep end). they eventually gave up and got their wristband because their friends got out of the water. i am so happy i will not be with them the next time they go to the pool. my break is scheduled then!

- super touchy. completely unaware of personal space. while i was working with a HOT GLUE GUN, these kids were literally, like legit, breathing down my neck. i could feel their sticky little warm bodies next to me while i was glueing these ribbons onto their little popsicle stick stars. i had to say multiple times to get into a line. they keep coming up behind me and hugging me while i’m sitting. if it happens again, i am 100% going to tell them about boundaries. 

- they forget. EVERYTHING. before leaving this morning, i reminded them we were going to the pool. at least 10 times. mentioning that you need a change of clothes. guess how many kids forgot something? only two, but one kid forgot their towel, one forgot their underwear, another forgot their hair stuff, another forgot their hairbrush, etc. and none of them brought dry clothes to change into. none. we remind them to grab their water bottles every time we leave our quarters, since it’s summer in the midwest and it’s easy to get dehydrated. theres always at least two that leave them on their beds. some didn’t even bring a water bottle to camp. we have to give them leftover stock from last year. and those kids that get new water bottles? still forget them wherever they go. its wild to me how they can be thirsty, complain about being thirsty, and yet still forget to grab them.

- they don’t understand wastefulness yet. at opening fire last night, they all reapplied bug spray at least 5 times each. after being reminded that once or twice was enough. they spray it for fun sometimes. they spray it on their friends. they’re gonna run out of bug spray halfway through the week and we won’t be able to help them. they also waste food. at breakfast, only two of my campers finished their plates. there were half full or full bowls of cereal. a semi-touched bowl of oatmeal. an entire plate of just bacon. these kids want to eat it all, but they physically can’t. and they know it. but they still want to grab all of the bacon they can just because they wanna. 

i will add more onto this post tomorrow on my break, because why not. i love typing out my days instead of writing them, so i might just turn this into a camp counselor blog. if, y’know, tumblr still is active lmao