#Anthony Willis i love you
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The score from Saltburn is now available in vinyl... the vinyl looks like a drain...
I...
#saltburn#Anthony Willis i love you#emerald fennell#oliver quick#barry keoghan#i hate being poor#i can't express how much i need this#đ
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anthony burch đ€ brennan lee mulligan
being totally caught off-guard by one of their players' reactions to a reveal about their character lore being jokey and happy instead of shock and sadness
#(this is abt s1 of fantasy high and s2 of dndads)#taylor being SO PUMPED about his mom starting to date willy initially#and anthonys absolutely stunned silence when he said âyou have to marry herâ#and brennan as sklonda finding riz in his dads office#finding that old video of him where he said he was doing dangerous shit and he loves riz#and brennan being clearly absolutely gobsmacked when riz was like âmom this is so fucking cool dad was awesome im so excitedâ#i love them ur honor riz and taylor are shaking hands#dndads#dungeons and daddies#shitpost#lgbt#dungeons and daddies s2#dungeons and daddies season 2#taylor swift#dndads taylor swift#anthony burch#freddie wong#freddy wong#brennan lee mulligan#d20#dimension 20#d20 fhjy#d20 fantasy high#riz gukgak#sklonda gukgak#willy stampler#d20 spoilers
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tori was fucking awesome but giving hermie/anthony/the literal joker a 4 is factually incorrect
#dndads#dungeons and daddies#I EAS GIGGLING#ANTHONT BURCH YOU ARE SO FUNNY AND I HOPE YOU KNOW IT#A 4?? yeha maybe the pacing was a bit quick BUT IT WAS FUCKING FUNNY#and the joker makeup#this man deserves every award ever created idc#urgh he was so funny and added so much to hermies character while still not going off plot or whatever it was so great anthony burch ur coo#...ur cool but yk what would make u cooler?? MENTIONING YEET BIGLY IR KILLA DEMALL#I DONT EVEN NEED PROPER CONTENT ANTHONT PLEASE I JUST NEED ONE TEENY TINY COMMENT THAT HALF THE FANDOM WILL IGNORE AND NEVER TALK ABOUT#i hate it when my brain does that thing and focuses on shit that will never be brought up again#because it has been literal months since this fixation thing started#MONTHS. and its STILL GOING.#btw yeah if ur new here hi welcome to my silly tumblr blig#50% of it is yeet bigly#40% is me begging anthony to add yeet bigly or killa demall content as if he will ever read this#and the rest is me shitting on willy stampler!#i love tagging
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ALSO I don't even think I have to say anything this time, you all heard Willy in the dream sequence.
WILLY: GOD FUCKING DAMMIT! YOU HAD ONE JOB!
SCARY: Woah, wait, hey...
WILLY: They're dumb! They're so stupid, and you're smarter than them! It shouldn't be that fucking-
Willy exhales intensely to calm himself down.
SCARY: Woah, you're so mad, it's not that big of a deal. I- I- I can fix this, I can fix it easily, I-
WILLY: Can you?
SCARY: Yeah?
WILLY: Can you?
SCARY: Yeah.
WILLY: Show me.
And then with a start, you're awake. For the first time without your own control, you are suddenly awake.
It's such a chilling performance from both Anthony and Beth, and an excellent way to show the audience how abusive Willy can be. No flashbacks, no grooming, no pretending to change, just the monster in full force.
#i love this podcast man#if willy stans exist i will fight them#i still support womens wrongs btw#if you even care#dungeons and daddies#dndads#dndads season 2#dndads spoilers#scary marlowe#willy stampler#anthony burch#beth may
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no way bengals fans are complaining about the coin toss solution lmao
#your only job is to beat anthony brown and greg roman. if you can't do that then...#maybe reevaluate your beliefs in being sb contenders bc uhhh#'oH bUt ThEY'd hAvE a sHOt aT tHe 1 oR 2 sEeD' boohoo bitch omg#you may have to play tyler huntley's offense instead of malik willis. how will you ever recover#malik willis or trevor lawrence if it goes the other way but you get my point#got handed the division on a silver platter and still complaining. unbelievable lmao#also some shit has to happen before the coin toss gets even considered#we have to win (which we won't) and the chargers have to win. and THEN we have to win a coin toss#in order to get the home playoff game#besides i did remember playing all 18 games and not having one taken off sooooo#make due#nfl#cincinnati bengals#please shut up for the love of god#y'all are embarrassing yourselves
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đđđđđđđ đđđ đđđđđ đđđ đ”đđ
Here is my submission for @kentopedia's wonderful Love Through the Ages collab!
â» Summary: Trapped in the gilded cage of Victorian high society, you were determined to rebel. You ran the streets in disguise at night and threw yourself into your work as a typist for Scotland Yard during the day, rejecting the label of âquiet, submissive woman.â Further rebuffing the ideals of your time, you scoffed at the idea of love and marriage, but a certain blonde Detective Inspector always seemed to make your heart flutter. Youâre assigned to work a case under him, and your feelings only grow more complicated⊠but will your budding romance be able to survive one of historyâs most infamous murderers?
â» Pairing: Nanami Kento x afab!Reader
â» Rating: Explicit (18+, minors DNI)
â» Word Count: 8.2k
â» Warnings: Explicit sexual content and Discussions of the Jack the Ripper case/thematic elements related to the case/time period (rape, poverty, etc.)
â» Song recommendations (in order):
Toxic- From âPromising Young Womanâ Soundtrack performed by Anthony Willis Les feuilles mortes- Jean-Michael Blais The Swan- Camille Saint-SaĂ«ns
â» Author's note: I did a ton of research to make sure I had my details correct, so there are tons of easter eggs hidden in the fic. I had a lot of fun with this one!
Join my taglist here!
Colors flew through the air as you tossed various skirts, bodices, and any other accessories unfortunate enough to catch your ire clear across the room. They hit your quilted bedsheets with an audible thunk as Misato shook her head at your antics, tsking at you from the corner.Â
âLove, youâll be late if you carry on like that. Wipe that scowl off and pick one already.âÂ
You shot the maid another half-hearted frown, looking as grim as a young woman clad in only her chemise, garters, and stockings could. Misato strode over with matronly confidence, snatching the next garment out of your hands before it could grace the top of the pile. She held the bodice up, inspecting it in the clear morning light before giving a brisk nod.Â
âRight then, this will do. Itâs posh enough to keep your father happy without all those extra frills and ruffles you hate. Grab that skirt, and letâs get on with it.âÂ
You did as you were told, albeit extremely unenthusiastically. Misato hummed soothingly, draping the familiar weight of a corset around your waist. This was a dance you knew the steps of all too well. You fastened the busk up quickly before bending down to grasp at the foot of the bed, adjusting your decollete into the supporting garment. Misato tightened the laces systematically, just as she had done for every year youâd been old enough to dress as a woman.Â
Standing back up, you moved your body around, wincing and rolling your shoulders as you reacclimated to the squeeze of the steel boning.Â
âIâm sorry,â you murmured, dropping your head in apology at the sight of her soft frown. âI know Iâm bull-headed, and I know it only causes trouble for you.âÂ
With a gentle sigh, the maid slipped a muslin camisole over your head before moving to fasten a bustle around your waist. âI understand, love. But youâre a woman of society, and youâre to dress as such. Now, bear you in mind, Iâd rather die than see you in trousers like the men, but I think thereâs a middle ground to be found yet.â
You smiled at her, grateful for the affection, âI know, but Iâm still glad to hear it.âÂ
âWho knows⊠Maybe youâll finally attract a husband whoâll let you run as wild as youâd like.â The older woman teased you, pinching your cheek affectionately as she slipped several layers of skirt over your head. Her loving prodding pulled an imperceptible flush across your cheeks, and you distracted yourself with the buttons of your bodice. âLord knows some of those peelers canât be too horrible to look at.âÂ
âLove,â you scoffed, choosing to ignore the way your mind immediately wandered to a certain stoic, blonde detective, âis for little girls who still believe in fairy tales.â Â
You continued on, selecting a hat from a drawer. âI work because I want to do something important⊠something beyond embroidery and gossiping at garden parties. There are people out there who need help, Misato.â
The maid laughed softly, pinning your hat at a perfect, jaunty angle. âIâve known that since you stood at the height of my knee, but I can still hope to see you happy.âÂ
You bade Misato goodbye with a quick kiss on the cheek, finally venturing out from your familyâs warm, comfortable house to wait by the road for your carriage. An icy breeze brushed past as soon as you stepped outside, ruffling through your skirts and causing you to shiver. As you waited patiently, the damp air slowly seeped under your multiple layers of clothing; the strangely oppressive chill only took a few moments to carve beneath your skin like an icy dagger.Â
Normally, little birds would flitter throughout the small yards alongside the street, filling your morning commute with their cheerful racket, but there was only silence today. Your only companions were the ever-present fog and smoke that blanketed the city, but today, they seemed so much thicker than usual, making the overcast sky feel even more bleak.Â
Thick tendrils of gloom trailed over the cobblestones, swallowing the flickering gas lights one by one. There were no people on your street this early, no signs of life to be seen anywhere. Another shiver shot down your spine, but this time, it had nothing to do with the cold. The world was grey and eerily silent as the fog finally reached you, blanketing your entire body with frigid mist. The downy hairs on the back of your neck began to stand on end; everything felt off⊠like an ill omen. Â
A moment later, the clacking of hooves on the cobblestone echoed throughout the street, and a familiar carriage finally appeared in the gloom. You barely waited for it to come to a stop before you opened the door and climbed in, not caring to observe the proper etiquette.Â
âCold, miss? Itâs a chilly morninâ innit?â The driver chuckled, shouting loudly as he snapped the reins, urging the horses to return to their steady gait. âDonât worry; weâll get you back inside soon enough.âÂ
âAh, yes⊠It is a bit chilly.â You smiled and brushed your actions off with a laugh, but the feeling of dread still weighed heavily on your heart.Â
Even the horses seemed restless, rolling their eyes and tossing their well-groomed manes back and forth as they plodded eastward. You were grateful to finally see some sense of normalcy as you reached Victoria Street, where people of all ages milled around, setting up their businesses both on and off the street. Shops opened their doors, and street vendors set out their wares, squabbling loudly over placement and price. You smiled wryly as a young boy snatched a steaming pie from the corner of a table, eyes shining with delight as he shoved the greasy pastry into his mouth. He disappeared into the teeming crowd with the shopkeep still blissfully unaware of the theft.
The sight was as endearing as it was heart-wrenching; the cute little boy probably stole out of sheer necessity. If he hadnât stolen the pie, there was a good chance he wouldnât have eaten at all today, even in this area of the city. You suddenly felt guilty that you had the privilege of being able to turn down breakfast.Â
âSo much needs to change,â you murmured, drumming your gloved fingers against the lacquered side of the carriage. Most of the people from the upper crust simply wanted to hide the poor away; their attitude was just to keep them out of sight and out of mind.
Your thoughts continued as you looked off into the alleyways and then glanced eastward to where the worst parts of London were concealed. If your family had their way, youâd have never known those parts of the city existed; youâd have been kept on a pedestal in the opulent West End. To them, all you needed was decorative knowledge meant to accent your pretty face and attract a rich husband, but no one had counted on your tenacity. You had been too intelligent, too fierce of a little girl, always demanding answers from your tutors, rejecting their half-baked excuses about the world and how it worked.Â
 Before long, you figured out that not all people grew up similarly. You fished stories out of maids and butlers, learning about how other people suffered in the cruel workhouses and filthy alleyways hidden in the background of the city you loved. But the most appalling thing by far was how little your parents and their wealthy friends seemed to care. Â
When you turned ten, you convinced Misato to help you sneak out for the first time, mainly by threatening to go even if she refused to be your accomplice, and from that night on, you began exploring the real London. When your parents thought you were safely locked away in your room practicing embroidery, you were actually exploring the streets wearing ragged clothes âborrowedâ from the nearest bin. It was dangerous and wholly irresponsible for a lady like yourself, and if anyone found out, your reputation and life would be ruined foreverâŠ. So, of course, you loved it.
âItâs no wonder I ended up here, in the last place a âladyâ should ever be.â You murmured, smiling as the carriage finally jolted to a stop outside the stately, brick-and-stone building at 4 Whitehall Place. The driver opened your door with practiced ease, and you entered Scotland Yardâs world of cops and criminals.Â
âOdd, thereâs so few people hereâŠâ You murmured, arching an eyebrow in curiosity as you walked in and reached your desk.Â
Typically, the station was filled with men waiting on their orders for the day or waiting to go on patrol. The few men who were present milled about restlessly, and most wore the trademark blue peeler uniform. However, two men were notably different; they were dressed in everyday clothes and stood off to the side of the Chief Inspectorâs office. If you didnât know better, you couldâve guessed they were gentlemen who simply wandered in off the streets.Â
âI havenât seen those two before. They must be detectives.â You pieced together, noting the tension that hung heavily around them.Â
The two men were certainly young to be detectives, but one seemed more experienced and slightly calmer than his counterpart. They each wore black frock coats and trousers, but from there, the appearance differed. The composed man had kind eyes and tawny, disheveled hair covered with a bowler hat, whereas his friend sported a red vest, fluffy hair, and no hat. He looked younger and full of nervous energy; for some reason, his hair seemed oddlyâŠ. pink?
You sighed, chalking it up to a trick of the light as you set up your desk for the day. In a valiant attempt to neutralize your own nervous energy, you began to clean your typewriter, stealing glances at the young detectives, trying to parse together what was going on from snippets of their conversation.Â
âDo you really think- how long will it take?âÂ
âI donât know, just wait and see.âÂ
Suddenly, two more men you did recognize walked into the room without fanfare. Chief Inspector Yaga led a tall, serious-looking blonde man over to the others, and your heart fell through your chest at the expression on his face. Not many of the detectives treated you well, but in all the time youâd worked there, Detective Inspector Nanami Kento had never failed to greet you with a small smile and a polite greeting every morning at the bare minimum.Â
This morning, however, his expression could have cut through stone. The stoic manâs lips were set into a cold, hard line, and he didnât even notice your presence. His dark eyes glittered in intense concentration, and the two young men snapped to attention as soon as he approached them.
Something has happened. Those arenât the eyes of the gentleman I know⊠thatâs the gaze of a detective entirely focused on his case.
Scotland Yard and its detectives were no strangers to tragedy and brutal events. They carried the weight of investigating the most unspeakable acts people could inflict on each other, but you had never seen DI Nanami look quite this grim. You watched the four men talk quietly for what seemed like ages before they finally walked over to your desk. Chief Inspector Yaga looked you up and down with a critical gaze as if to size you up.Â
âHow can I help you this morning, sir?â You met his eyes calmly, the feeling of dread rising, squeezing your heart once again.Â
âYouâve been with us for almost two years now, correct?â His gruff voice rumbled through you like thunder promising an oncoming storm.Â
âThatâs correct, sir.âÂ
âAnd youâve never had any-â He paused, gesturing around as if searching for the correct word, âtrouble with the cases up until now?âÂ
Nanamiâs chiseled jaw clenched as the Chief Inspector questioned you. He seemed to be looking just past your face, staring at a spot on the wall in a manner that seemed as though he was willing it to spontaneously catch fire. You didnât try to hide the way your brow furrowed in concern at the question.
âTrouble, sir?âÂ
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Deep, dark bruises were blooming under the manâs eyes; it looked as if he had gotten little-to-no sleep for weeks. âI know youâve certainly heard⊠more than a few disturbing things in your time here. The paperwork you tend to has details of crimes, and youâre around the men every dayâŠ. God knows they donât know when to hold their tongues.âÂ
You nodded along, still confused and growing exponentially more concerned. His words were true; youâd certainly heard more than your share of gory details from the policemen as they returned from their patrols, whether it was just accidentally overheard or they told you directly as if it would impress you.Â
âWell⊠It is never enjoyable, but I deal with it in the same way the men do, sir.â You pointed out deftly, unwilling to seem fragile.Â
Nanami remained grimly silent, but a small smile played across the corner of his lips as Yaga watched you closely. After a moment of silence, the burly DCI sighed again. âThen thereâs a job for you. I am about to ask more of you than I would like to, but youâve excelled at your current position, and this situation calls for related skills.â
For the briefest moment, you couldâve sworn that you saw Nanamiâs fist clench at his side. Still, the stoic man stayed silent as Yaga continued on, âYouâll be working under DI Nanami, and your main responsibility will be to organize and keep a running record of the evidence as it comes in. Youâre to help them keep track of any papers they need to revisit during their investigation. Other duties will be assigned as needed.â
Yaga nodded stiffly and walked back to his office, shutting the door firmly as if to signal the finality of his decision. You looked up at Nanami with concern, as the man had barely moved since he arrived at your desk; he still looked silently furious. âAre you⊠do I need to do anything right now?âÂ
His mood seemed to shift to calm in an instant. âNo, nothing right now. Iâll have a file to give you as soon as I return, but I do need to introduce the case to you so that youâre not blindsided when you⊠see it.âÂ
Nanami motioned for the two young detectives to step forward, âFirst, this is DC Itadori, and this is DS Ino. They will also be working under me for this case; if you have any issues and Iâm unavailable, you can go to them.âÂ
The two young men tilted their heads in polite acknowledgment as they were introduced, each giving you a small smile, almost like the one Nanami usually reserved for you.
Ino spoke first, âItâs a pleasure to meet you, Miss. Even under these circumstances.âÂ
Itadori nodded enthusiastically, âYes! It isnât often we get to work with a-â
âAnd I think itâs time for us to go secure transportation to the scene. Youâll have to excuse us.â Ino butted in quickly, placing a firm hand on Itadoriâs shoulder and hauling the young man away, blatantly ignoring his noises of protest.Â
You turned back to the Detective Inspector, whose expression was unreadable as he sighed, âHe means well. Please forgive him.âÂ
A small, reassuring smile touched your lips as you gazed up at Nanami, âIâm not offended, Detective. Iâm no shrinking violet and a bit of levity wonât go amiss every now and then.âÂ
Your small quip made the blonde man chuckle lowly despite the situation. âIâm well aware. But this caseâŠ.â His expression shifted once again. âI donât like involving you in it.âÂ
Hurt shot through you, stabbing through your heart with a dull ache. You had worked alongside him for two years, and heâd never seemed like the other men who constantly doubted your abilities for the supposed sin of being born a woman. You liked this man; you had trusted him.
âDo you really not think I can be of help?â You frowned as indignation seared through your veins.
You mustâve looked truly hurt because Nanami shook his head. âIt has nothing to do with ability. You should know that I hold your abilities in high regard, butâŠâ he said softly, âthis case- itâs nothing like youâve ever seen before, and you should never have to see things like this. No one should.âÂ
Your firey attitude froze instantly, turning to shame as you realized his true intent. âForgive me, Iâm used toâŠ.âÂ
A flush crept across your cheeks as you took a deep breath, smoothing the fabric of your skirt and regaining your professionalism.
Why is it so easy for me to make a fool out of myself in front of you?Â
â I understand,â he murmured, studying the typewriter in front of you with a strange intensity. âYou may as well come into my office and have some tea.â
â
It took you no time at all to understand exactly why everyone seemed on edge and why the Detective Inspector was so affected by the case. You had read files of violence, murder, and rape before, but what Nanami had to sit down and tell you was beyond all of that. There was a monster, some sick freak brutalizing and murdering women throughout the streets of Whitechapel. He toyed with and desecrated their bodies, and all evidence suggested that he had acted multiple times and was going to continue unless he was caught or killed. This wasnât some random act of criminal violence or murder of passion committed by a jilted loverâŠ. this was something only the devil himself could be capable of.
The warmth of the teacup against your hands brought you some comfort, but you couldnât bring yourself to drink any of the tea. Your stomach roiled violently; you were suddenly immensely glad youâd skipped breakfast as Nanami softly explained what had happened to the women and the events that led to Yaga deciding that youâd join his team.Â
âThey found another body this morning,â he spoke plainly, but his deep brown eyes roamed over your face, his expression full of gentle concern. âWorse than the last, even.â
You glanced at the thick file in front of you, your stomach lurching as your eyes landed on the sketch of the previous victim. If it was only growing worse⊠God, you couldnât even imagineâŠ. The room suddenly felt too hot, your corset too constricting as you leaned forward, fighting the bile that rose in your throat.Â
Nanami was by your side instantly, his large hand warm and soothing on your back as he knelt beside you with surprising grace. âIf you donât want to do thisâŠ. I understand. I swear I do. Just say the word, and Iâll have you home.â
It took a brief moment, but you swallowed thickly and straightened up, your eyes glittering in determination as you gazed down at the kneeling man. âNo. I canât- I wonât- sit idly by, knowing I had a chance to help, even if itâs just in a small way.âÂ
An entire moment passed as the two of you stared into each otherâs eyes. Nanami rested his hand on yours for a brief moment, giving it a gentle squeeze, and you could feel your brain short-circuit. You were much closer to a bachelor than society would deem appropriate, but the desire to uphold proper values wilted against your need for comfort.Â
The moment was over quickly, and the Detective stood, brushing dirt off his tan pants. âItâs time for me to head out to the crime scene. Iâd like you to use my office while Iâm gone.âÂ
Nanami gave you an achingly soft smile, the exact smile you had craved before he tugged his coat on, slid his unique, round glasses into place, and left the room.Â
â
Weeks turned into months, but the monster who called himself Jack the Ripper still hunted the women of Whitechapel. It didnât take long for the press to run with the story, drawing more attention to Jack than his victims. An endless flow of letters and tips began to pour in every day, and the monster had even penned a few himself, mocking the police for not being able to catch him yet.Â
You spent every day working beside Nanami, who insisted you move into his office, claiming you could work more comfortably there. The attraction you felt towards the stoic detective grew as you spent more time with him, sharing the intimate workspace. He was always so busy and stressed beyond measure, but he was unfailingly kind and considerate of you. In return, you went above and beyond your assigned duties to care for him. You ensured that Nanami ate as regularly as possible, brewed him tea when he was having a particularly hard day, and provided him companionship.Â
You had always known that Nanami was intensely intelligent and focused, but he truly gave all of himself to this case. Unfortunately, the Ripper seemed to be a shade able to pass through walls for all the helpful clues he left behind. You watched, feeling utterly helpless, as the pile of bodies grew and the dark circles under Nanamiâs eyes deepened. Despite putting on a brave face, he seemed frustrated and permanently exhausted; if you had to guess, he even slept at his desk some nights.Â
As the case progressed and even more women were killed, Nanami made it a point to make sure you were safe, even though you lived on the opposite end of London from where the murders occurred. You reassured him that youâd be fine, but he still gifted you a small firearm, a Derringer, that you kept tucked in your handbag every single day as both a good luck charm and a deterrent. The detective also insisted on escorting you home at night, and on the rare nights he was unavailable, he sent Ino or Itadori in his stead.Â
However, most nights, you only waited inside for an hour or two before sneaking back to the streets. You were convinced the people who frequented the bustling pubs and taverns of Whitechapel had to have more information. Many people werenât keen on sharing any information with the police, but you knew theyâd talk amongst themselves and certainly to a pretty girl at the bar. You knew it wasnât smart, but you were determined to help in every way possible; too many women were living in fear. However, a small part of you did know that you were also desperately trying to ease Nanamiâs burden.Â
Even though you were determined, you still felt incredibly guilty about the situation. It would undoubtedly drive Nanami mad with worry if he knew what you were up to, but you promised yourself that it was safe enough, that youâd always sneak back home before nightfall. You had even planned only to visit pubs on Whitechapel Road itself, knowing that proximity to the main road made your outings safer. Weeks passed as your covert outings continued without a hitch, but one night, everything changed. You had been far too distracted by the bartender you were conversing with, and before you realized it, the sun had fully set. You mightâve been right on the main road, but you were alone in Whitechapel after dark, where the monster was certainly lurking in the shadows.
Every bump in the night made your heart seize in fear as you started down the street, desperately heading back toward safety. You managed to make a decent headway, but the sound of a familiar voice stopped you dead in your tracks. Nervously, you glanced around to find DC Itadori at the building right in front of you, blissfully unaware of your presence as the young man chatted with a passerby.
You knew that the proper thing to do would be to approach him for help, to admit that you had made a mistake, but you couldnât ignore the small voice in the back of your mind that whispered, âYou know heâd tell Nanami, right?â Â
Telling DC Itadori would be bad enough, but the thought of his mentor being disappointed in you or even hurt by your actions made your heart lurch.Â
âItâll be just a quick detour,â you promised yourself as you turned and headed down the closest alleyway.
Your journey was fine for the first few minutes, but it didnât take long for you to garner unwanted attention. Your dress lacked the finery you usually wore, but it was still the dress of a respectable woman, and this dark alley was no place for any woman. Drunken men leered at you from every shadow, trying to coax you closer. You ducked and weaved your way out of their clumsy attempts to grab you, but you were forced to run down alley after alley to avoid them. The familiar weight of the Derringer that youâd tucked into your garter was the only comfort you had as you fled deeper and deeper into the heart of Whitechapel. An icy chill crept down your spine as you grew painfully aware that youâd gotten lost in the maze of alleyways.Â
Thick, oppressive fog curled throughout the already cramped alley as you hurriedly turned the next corner, only to hit a dead end. Your blood ran cold, and tears of exhaustion and fear ran down your face as you glanced around, desperately trying to figure out where you were, but it was useless. The fog was too dense, and you were too lost. Two sets of footsteps were still following you. You could hear them approaching faster and faster, and you shrank back into the corner in fear, reaching under your skirts for the cool metal of the pistol as a last resort-
Suddenly, you heard the sounds of a brief scuffle around the corner, followed by the sickening crunch of a nose shattering. A man yelled out in pain; you could hear him sprinting back down the alley as another voice rang out into the night, âMiss, are you alright?âÂ
You couldâve wept at the achingly familiar, husky tone as your Detective Inspector appeared out of the gloom, lantern in hand.Â
âI seem to have made a mistake,â You managed weakly.
Nanami froze instantly at the sound of your voice. He raised the lantern to illuminate your tear-stained face, and a look of sheer horror broke over his handsome features. You crumpled against the wall, and the Detective Inspector rushed forward to support your body, his strong arms cradling you with breathtaking gentleness.Â
âAre you hurt?â He asked quickly as his gaze scanned you over systematically, desperately searching your body for any sign of injury.Â
âNo, just cold, afraidâŠ.. and more than a little ashamed. Thank you for saving me.â You admitted meekly, fighting the urge to lean into his warmth.Â
Nanami groaned audibly in relief, tipping his head back as if thanking god. His arms tightened around you slowly as he embraced you, holding you against his broad chest while you shook with latent fear. You flushed furiously as you reciprocated his embrace, drawing enough comfort from his presence for your heartbeat to calm.Â
âYouâre trembling,â he murmured, voice low and soothing. âletâs get you somewhere safe, and then you can tell me why youâre out here.âÂ
âI canât go home. Itâs too late; I wonât be able to get back in until morning when my maid returns. Perhaps I should rent a room here for the night? No one will know me this far out. I do have some money.â You rambled, trying to keep from crying even more. Â
Nanami sighed, stepping back slightly to look into your eyes. âIâm not leaving you out here alone. It wonât be âproper,â but Iâd like to take you somewhere where I know youâll be safe.âÂ
You felt a pulse of clarity flow through you, and you placed a hand on his muscular forearm, gently squeezing it in reassurance. âI trust you.âÂ
The detectiveâs warm, brown gaze softened as he saw the honesty written across your face.
âOne more question, then. Do you think youâre up to walking? I could carry you, but that may draw more unwanted attention.âÂ
You shifted on your feet, testing them out. âI think Iâll be alright.âÂ
Nanami smiled down at you before deftly unfastening his tan, woolen greatcoat. He draped it over your shoulders with heartbreaking gentleness, ignoring your mild noises of protest as he secured it around you.Â
âItâs cold tonight,â was all he said as he offered you his arm.
You held onto him tightly, instantly comforted by his solid frame and the quiet strength Nanami carried himself with, even in a tense situation like this. You had never been more terrified only moments ago, but now you felt safe and protected, almost warm despite the cold air around you.Â
âThank youâŠ. It is quite comforting.â You murmured.
Nanami smiled down at you briefly before guiding you through the maze of alleyways, letting you dictate the pace. Funnily enough, the fog seemed to dissipate as the two of you walked down the streets of London together. You could see the stars twinkling above you, and if you didnât know better, the two of you couldâve been a couple out on a nighttime stroll together.Â
Time passed quickly as you walked together in comfortable silence, and soon, you arrived at a comfortable-looking townhouse near Bedford Square. Nanami unlocked the door without any preamble, ushering you inside out of the cold. He led you up the stairs into a tastefully furnished drawing room with a beautiful bay window that overlooked a moonlit garden.
âPlease, make yourself comfortable,â he encouraged, leading you towards a plush settee. Nanami busied himself with lighting the ornate fireplace as you curled up against the arm of the furnishing, still wrapped up in his coat. You snuggled against the soft wool, surreptitiously enjoying how it smelled of his fresh, woody cologne undercut with the deeper scent you could only describe as his.Â
As soon as Nanami finished tending to the fire, he began to pace around the room in a manner you knew meant that he was thinking deeply about something.Â
âWhat is it?â You asked softly, almost afraid of the answer.Â
He took a deep breath and stopped pacing, turning to look at you. Nanamiâs expression held no anger as the firelight flickered across his face, but a profound sadness filled his beautiful brown eyes as he spoke, âI donât think you understand what it wouldâve done to me if you were the next body found.âÂ
You dropped your head, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as Nanami continued his pacing, âWhen I realized it was you in the alley, I- I thought the absolute worst had happened.âÂ
He ran his hands through his hair, pacing even more frantic as he tousled the normally neat blonde strands. âYou must know by nowâŠ. You have to knowâŠâ
Nanami turned to you once again, dropping his arms to his side in defeat. âI love you.â He rasped, voice raw with emotion. âIâve known for months. I didnât think I could court you properly until I caught this bastard, so I didnât say anything. You donât deserve to be associated with me if I fail, but after tonight, I just canât take it anymore. I understand if you say no, if you need a better man, but-âÂ
He didnât get to finish his sentence. In the blink of an eye, you flung yourself across the room and into his arms. Nanami caught you in surprise, scarcely able to believe he wasnât dreaming as you clutched desperately at his sides. Uncontrollable tears fell from the corners of your eyes as you gazed at him in unabashed adoration.
âI love you too,â you confessed, â I donât think a better man exists.âÂ
That was all the encouragement he needed. Nanami smiled lovingly, softly as he leaned down to press a slow, feather-light kiss against your forehead. You sighed in bliss, and the detective breathed deeply as if he hadnât had fresh air in months. Months of stress and fear melted away from both your bodies, the negative emotions paling in comparison to the warmth of your love. Nanami ghosted more kisses across your cheeks and nose, taking his time to savor every inch of your beautiful skin before finally pressing his lips against yours.Â
The kiss was soft and sweet. Your eyelashes fluttered shut, and you acted purely on instinct, leaning further into his embrace. One of Nanamiâs strong, steady hands moved to cup your waist, holding you like precious china as your lips parted from the chaste kiss. As you shared another intimate breath, his other hand slid under your chin, tilting you forward to capture your lips again.Â
âMarry me.â He mouthed against you, voice rough with emotion. âLet me protect you, love you, worship you. I want to hold you in my arms, to keep you by my side until I die.âÂ
âYes,â you nearly pleaded, clawing at the material of his blue vest in an attempt to somehow pull him closer. âKento, pleaseâŠ. Iâm yours.â
He groaned desperately at the intimacy of his first name on your lips as his hand moved from your waist to wrap around your back possessively. Nanami trailed his other hand to cup your jaw as he kissed you even more passionately, almost devouring you whole. You had kissed before, but it was only mild, adolescent flirtations with boys you didnât bother to remember; it was nothing like this. This kiss was searing, threatening to burn you from the inside out if you stopped for even a second. Your chest lay flush against Nanamiâs, your body moving against his in a way that made his trousers grow uncomfortably tight.Â
Nanami realized instantly and broke the embrace, stepping back to hide the way his cock strained against the fabric. The desirous look in your eyes and your attempt to follow him nearly shattered his resolve completely, but he touched your shoulder gently.Â
âIt will get increasingly hard for me to remain the gentleman you deserve if we continue.â He warned breathily, a light dusting of pink gracing his cheekbones. âIf you need, I can go stand outside until morning.âÂ
A whimper left your kiss-swollen lips. Your body ached in a way youâd never felt, craving the sweet burn of his touch in places youâd rarely explored yourself. The world felt hazy and syrupy as you tried to regain your mind, but it was a futile task. Your breasts felt heavy, your nipples sensitive as they rubbed against the fabric of your chemise.Â
âThatâs not what I need,â you pleaded, and Nanami shuddered.Â
âCan you tell me what you do need?â He murmured, taking a tiny step towards you.Â
âKento, I-Iâve never done this before,â you stammer, blushing furiously and shrinking back in embarrassment.Â
Immediately, Nanami is at your side, holding you tightly once again. âThatâs nothing to be ashamed of, darling. I wouldnât love you less either way. All it means is that weâre on equal footing here.âÂ
He pulled you into another hug, intent on soothing you further as your mind spun.Â
âYouâve neverâŠ.?â You questioned softly.Â
âNo,â Nanami murmured, âI havenât been with anyone.âÂ
âThat does make me feel better,â you admitted, biting the swell of your lower lip. âWhat Iâm feeling right now is newâŠ. strange, even. I want you to touch me so badly that it hurts.â
Nanami groaned again, pulling you against his broad chest; he could easily feel your heart racing, and he wasnât faring much better.Â
âDo you want me to touch you now, or do you want me to wait?â He asked, voice deadly calm.Â
âI think Iâll die if you wait,â you pleaded, pawing against his vest again.Â
He chuckled roughly, grasping your wrist and pulling it to his lips. Your breath hitched as he kissed the tender skin of your pulse point, savoring the way your pulse raced under his touch. Without further preamble, Nanami reached down for your skirts, slowly drawing the fabric up past the soft leather of your garters. He reached down, tracing up your thigh with his fingers until they caught the cool metal of the Derringer, which you had completely forgotten about.Â
Nanami tugged it free as he kissed you once again. He smiled into the embrace, pulling you with him as he stepped over to set the small gun on a nearby table. You glanced at him in astonishment, unsure how he had known. As soon as the firearm was safely put away, he scooped you up into his arms with another soft laugh, âDarling, what kind of detective would I be if I didnât know?âÂ
You smiled up at him, âI suppose you do have a point, darling.âÂ
He sighed in bliss as you turned the affectionate nickname against him. You traced your hands up Nanamiâs broad chest greedily, slipping them over his shoulders for support as you leaned in for yet another desperate kiss, unable to sate your desire for his lips. He somehow managed to walk and return the kiss at the same time, only stumbling slightly as he brought you into another room.Â
You giggled against him, and he smiled, devouring the sweet sounds and eager to hear more. Nanami leaned down, setting you gently on his large bed. He pulled back to gaze at you in utter adoration, loosening his golden cravat and undoing the buttons of his blue brocade vest. He discarded them both, leaning forward to cage you between his arms as you drank in the sight unashamedly.Â
âYou know it isnât proper for me to see you in just your shirtsleeves yet,â you teased, snaking your hands up his arms and growing bold enough to nip at his bottom lip.Â
âI donât think anything that we are about to do is too âproper,ââ Nanami smiled affectionately as he circled his hands around your corseted waist, pulling you forward to sit at the edge of the bed. He unfastened your boots, caressing your stocking-covered feet gently as he set your shoes to the side. Afterward, his hands returned to your waist, meeting in the middle to trace over the small buttons of your green bodice.Â
âMay I?â He implored, voice low and breathy with anticipation.Â
You nodded, biting your lip nervously. âPlease.â
Nanamiâs deft fingers began to undo button after button, exposing the other layers of clothing underneath as he went. Youâd chosen to forego wearing a camisole, as none of your outerwear was fine enough to need protecting, so he was immediately met with the sight of your corset and the lip of your chemise beneath. The silken chemise you favored was thin enough to be nearly transparent, and Nanamiâs breath hitched at the sight of your pebbled nipples peeking over the top of your corset.Â
He knelt slightly, enraptured by the sight of your breasts rising and falling with every breath you took. Nanami stared at you ravenously as his breathing grew heavier. You blushed prettily, shrugging the bodice off as the once-stoic detectiveâs tongue darted out to wet his lips. His hands dug into the fabric of his duvet as he fought the urge to caress and kiss every part of your body.Â
âI want to explore every part of you with my hands and tongue,â he confessed with a groan. âI canât hold myself back much further, but promise that youâll stop me immediately if I make you uncomfortable.âÂ
You noticed the pupils of his brown eyes were blown wide and dark with lust as he looked at you, fully enraptured but waiting for your response. His expression forced an involuntary whimper to tumble from your lips, and the heat in your core spiked once again.Â
âI promise, but please⊠I didnât think I could feel something like this.â You begged sweetly, guiding his large, warm hand to rest on the swell of your breasts.
He caressed the area gently, watching your face as his clever fingers explored your soft curves. You sighed in delight as he squeezed and traced the barely-covered skin, prompting him to investigate further. His fingertips grazed your nipple, and your back arched instantly, mouth parting in a perfect âOâ at the waves of pleasure that shot through you. Nanamiâs gaze grew half-lidded and hazy; he squeezed the small bud in response, and you outright moaned as your core clenched in need.Â
âFeels good?â He purred, utterly shameless in wanting to learn your pleasure.Â
You nodded vigorously, unable to speak, as you pulled his other hand to your back. He knelt on the floor, pulling you to stand over him as he reached around to unfasten your skirts and small bustle. They dropped to the floor, and he leaned forward to pepper kisses across your stomach and the tops of your thighs. You couldnât feel his lips directly for the corset and chemise still in the way, but you could feel the warmth of his body close to yours. The intimacy of him kneeling before you, kissing your body so hungrily, made you throb with need once more. Acting on pure instinct once again, you began to rub your thighs together, desperate to relieve the ache.
He reached for the strings of your corset, successfully untying the knot. Nanami felt around for a moment before leaning back to look the silk and leather garment up and down. The detective chuckled lowly, âWould you mind helping me, darling? This is the first Iâve dealt with a corset, and Iâm afraid itâs not as straightforward as the other layers.âÂ
You gazed down at him in adoration, guiding his arms to grasp different parts of the lacing.Â
âPull hereâŠ. and here.â You murmured, and the corset loosened under your combined ministrations, finally becoming loose enough for you to unfasten the busk.Â
Nanami watched breathlessly as it fell. He grasped the hem of your chemise, the final major barrier separating him from your soft skin, and rose from his kneeling position to pull it over your head. Finally, you stood before him fully topless, and he shuddered in desire as he removed your drawers.Â
He picked you up again, setting you back on the bed to work on the layers of his clothing. You whined in protest, wanting to undress him as he had explored you, but he simply shushed you, only speeding up his movements as he spoke through gritted teeth, âDarling, I promise you that we will have ample time for you to undress me laterâŠ. but right now, I need you, or Iâm going to fully lose my mind.âÂ
Nanami was barely able to choke out the words as he threw his shirt aside, granting you a beautiful view of his muscular chest and the smattering of honey-blonde hair that covered it. His arms were just as well-built, and you bit your lip once again, squirming on top of his sheets as you watched him. Nanami hooked his fingers into the waistband of his trousers, drawing your attention to a patch of coarser blonde hair that trailed down his lower stomach, hinting at what youâd see next.Â
You felt hot, fully and shamelessly filled with lust as you stared at the outline of his thick cock tenting the fabric. Nanami groaned as he saw your reaction, palming his erection as he started towards you, only clad in his trousers.Â
âLay back for me, darling,â he cooed, guiding you onto the mattress. It dipped beneath his weight as he joined you, running his fingers over your leather garters. He pulled them down with his teeth, pressing kisses to the bare skin that forced a litany of moans and pleas from your lips as he rid you of your stockings. Dimly, you realized the space between your thighs was sticky with your own arousal. Nanami realized a split second after you, trailing his fingers up to your core after disposing of the garters and stockings.Â
âYouâre beautiful, gorgeousâŠ. Perfect.â His deep voice rumbled against your ear as he traced his finger through your folds. You shivered and moaned in response, your legs falling open even further, begging for him to explore more. He slid up on the bed next to you, leaning down to kiss your bare, sensitive breasts as he toyed with your soaked cunt.
Nanami carried on like that for a few minutes, noting that you grew the most desperate as he circled the small pearl of flesh at the top of your sex. He caressed it, noting with no small amount of satisfaction that his ministrations made you beg for more and whimper his name. Tension coiled in your stomach as he gently circled the puffy bud and kissed you passionately, relishing the taste of his name on your lips. It didnât take long for that tension to snap in your stomach like an elastic band, and your back arched off the bed as you came hard.Â
He growled praises into your ear, teasing his fingers into you as your cunt spasmed around nothing. âMy future wife⊠a goddess.âÂ
Your eyelashes fluttered shut in a moment of discomfort that soon gave way to the blissful feeling of being filled. There was no pain as the other women had complained of; your world was a haze of syrupy bliss as your lover prepared you with his fingers, gently stretching your velvet walls.Â
Nanami rutted his hips against the bed, delaying his own pleasure until you were ready for him to truly fill you. The two of you moaned and sighed, almost in sync.Â
âYouâre so soft and wet,â he cursed under his breath. âI wonât last much longer⊠Do you think youâre ready?âÂ
You leaned up to kiss him passionately, mouthing your desperate assent against his lips. Nanami unbuttoned his trousers, unclothing his lower half in record time as you lay back against the sheets, eyes fully glazed over with lust. He spread your legs, slotting his hips between them, and you felt the swollen tip of his cock kiss your needy sex as he positioned himself properly. The two of you were panting, moaning together like animals in heat as he pushed in slowly, desperately trying not to hurt you. You cried out at the stretch, digging your nails into his back, the pain pulling another guttural moan from your lover. Any discomfort quickly turned to blinding pleasure as he sank into you fully.
Nanami paused arduously, his cock twitching, desperately begging for him to move.Â
âTell me⊠when.â He forced the words out through gritted teeth, his expression almost a grimace as he fought the urge to thrust into you.Â
The warmth and pressure of his body, the feeling of being stuffed full, the feeling of his cock twitching inside you⊠It was all too much. Your fingers scrabbled at his back, desperate for purchase, as you whined, high-pitched and needy in response. âNow, please- oh, God. Need you now.â
Nanami groaned as he began to move his hips slowly, dragging his thick cock along your velvet walls. He began to move slightly faster as you writhed beneath him, your mind too sex-addled to form a coherent thought or sentence as his swollen balls slapped against you.Â
Your future husband fucked you slowly but thoroughly, filling the room with the salacious sounds of your lovemaking. A familiar tension began to build in your core, and Nanami groaned as your walls squeezed his cock. Unlike earlier, there was almost no warning as you shot straight over the edge of a mind-shattering orgasm, and you cried out desperately.
Nanami growled and cursed against your neck as your cunt milked his cock, desperately begging to be filled.Â
âSo close. Need⊠need to pull out.â He rasped, almost whining as he left the plush warmth of your sex. You watched him in a lust-filled daze, melting against his sheets as Nanami leaned back, furiously stroking his cock. He grunted and moaned shamelessly, hips still shallowly thrusting against his hand as he desperately sought bliss. His head tipped back as he panted; you could see a beautiful, rosy flush color his chest and neck, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch of it.Â
Nanamiâs thrusts started to falter from their original pace, and you watched, wholly enraptured, as his brows furrowed and his perfect mouth fell open. He came a moment later with a hoarse cry; thick ropes of his seed coated his hands and stomach in spurts. He stroked his cock a few more times, fully milking out his orgasm before collapsing on the bed by your side. You both lay there in silence for a few blissful moments, basking in the warmth and security of each otherâs arms.
âI love you,â you whispered, breaking the silence with a smile.Â
âI love you too, my darling future wife,â Nanami murmured back, entwining his hand with yours.
Tagging some friends: @pseudowho @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @orangecremepuff @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @eldritchbeauty @unoriginalidea @cindyneko-strider @markleeisdabestdrug @gabbyburgers @its-chickenwing-450 @luneariaa @akiiireix @tojispookiebear @dangoank0 @ifuckinghateschool @barryatsumu @voids-universe @mahgyu @themoonmonologues @byul9158 @starlitnotes @makingtimemine
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Barry, no one really thinks you and Jacob Elordi are a thing.
I went to a Q&A last weekend with Emerald Fennell and Margot Robbie's producing partner Josey McNamara. Barry was to be on panel, but couldn't make it.
I don't blame him. He was resting up for the Academy Museum gala.
SPOILERY SALTBURN TALK
Besides the Q&A with McNamara and Fennell (who said she felt Oliver and Farleigh would have been happy together),
I went to one with composer Anthony Willis (who kept referring to the Oliver/Felix maze scene as "the breakup scene"),
That had me on my knees like Oliver.
Suzie Davis (Production Designer), Victoria Boydell (Editor) and SiĂąn Miller (Makeup, Hair & Prosthetic Designer) and it was very illuminating.
They came to the reception afterwards and mingled, but I didn't see SiĂąn who I wanted to ask more questions of.
During the panel she talked about the tattoos and how they all had backstories. The ones I remember: Pamela's (Carey Mulligan) tats include a horseshoe a'la Amy Winehouse, but hers is upside down representing bad luck. She has a pill tat that represents her relationship with Richard Ashcroft of The Verve. Felix and Venetia have matching star tattoos that represent their family crest
Victoria Boydell says that in the initial cut of Oliver's opening monologue where it cuts off just as he was going to say whether or not he was in love with Felix, they answered the question. But they wanted to leave it open to give way to the later monologue.
-Read an interview with Paul Rhys who plays Duncan the head servant of SALTBURN and he talked of how he and Emerald Fennell had conflicting thoughts on Duncan's background. Rhys thought that perhaps Duncan was the son of the previous head servant, whereas Fennell says Duncan rode past SALTBURN at age 14 and knew that he wanted a bit of it.
With that (and borrowing a bit from his own impoverished background) he felt that Duncan also came from a rough hewn background and that he immediately spotted that Oliver was a baddie. Knowing this makes the scene where Duncan stands with an accusatory stare at Oliver while everyone is running around looking for Felix. He knows Oliver has a hand in this; or at the very least feels that his presence brought bad luck to the house. And Duncan, being Duncan, couldn't stand in that moment too long, especially in front of Oliver, he swept that lock of hair that had fallen back and went back to work.
-Some behind the scene pics that are new to me. Proud of myself that from the very first viewing I knew these bathtub shots (filmed from the back) were of future!Oliver Ollie, sat in the bath thinking of Felix.
#saltburn#saltburn movie#barry keoghan#jacob elordi#archie madekwe#felix catton#oliver quick#farleigh start#saltburn spoilers
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Can I make you a request about Anthony Lockwood based on the song âSo Americanâ by Olivia Rodrigođ„șđ
so american! - Lockwood x Reader
when he laughs at all my jokes and he says Iâm so american oh god itâs just not fair of him to make me feel this much Iâd go anywhere he goes when he says Iâm so american oh god Iâm gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up i might just be in la la la la la la la la la love
a/n: this fic has been rattling around in my head for a couple of weeks now and I was soooo double minded abt writing it so THANK YOU for the ask!!!!!! might not have written it otherwise heheh also Iâm sooo proud of how my gifs turned out it was so fun to colour them all guts themed đđ I hope you enjoy!! <333 also im having issues w the keep reading button AGAIN so sorry :(((
warnings/tropes: lockwood and reader are already in an established relationship, fluffy fluff, veeerrry small sprinkling of angst but happy ending! domestic sweetness
word count: 3.3k!
TAGLIST | MASTERLIST
âReady?â
Lockwood ducked into the car's passenger seat, grinning at the sight of her comically desperate expression. George and Lucy were fussing in the backseat, mainly because of Lucyâs seatbelt, or lack thereof, and they didn't seem to notice his arrival.
âJust wear the fucking seatbelt.â
"I'll be fine, George."
"She got her license at 16. 16! They just let anyone drive all willy-nilly up and down the roads in America."
Lucy gave him a look. He finally gave up and tugged at his own seatbelt sceptically, muttering darkly under his breath.
Lockwood & Co. was much more than a psychical investigation agency. Outside of their working hours, each member liked to work on some kind of passion project. After not having driven for over a year since she got her driving license in the States, she had decided to apply for one in London. Luckily, her employer had gallantly offered to provide her with the lessons she badly needed, having been the first of the three to earn his license. Well, employer and boyfriend.Â
Her mother could hardly believe the news and, frankly, so could she. In a lot of ways, having an English boyfriend was vastly different from having an American one. First, there was a slight communication barrier, given how terrible she was with accents. Then there were the differing preferences - Lockwood seemed forever ready for a cuppa at any time of day, whereas the only kind of tea she really enjoyed was iced tea. Still, these differences left gaps for lingering gazes and silences that stretched on a little too much, and somewhere in between she slipped her hand into his, and the rest was history.Â
Lockwood turned away to buckle his seatbelt.
"Okay, your seatbelt on?"
"Yes."
"Ready to go?"
"Hang on," came George's peeved voice from behind them, "you're not going to brief her first?" The two of them stared at each other blankly.Â
"Uh, Y/N, do you remember how to drive?"
"Sure." It was one of those things you never forget, like riding a bicycle. Sure, it had been a while, but how hard could it truly be?
"Brilliant. Now-"
George pulled himself forward between the two front seats, straining against his seatbelt. âWe donât drive on the right side here. We drive on the left side of the road. Left. Left.â
She glanced at her rearview mirror which outlined the line of cars behind them parked on the left side of the street.
âNo. You donât say.â
Lockwood coughed, poorly concealing his laugh as he craned his neck towards the backseat windows. "Right, all clear. I think we can move of-"
"Parking brake."
"Er, right, what George said. Disable the parking brake first."
âIâve never driven with a parking brake before.â
âSo you push in this metal bit, like so,â said Lockwood, gently manoeuvring her fingers into the right grip, âand then pull it up a little, and then bring it all the way down.â
She tugged at it in frustration. âI -itâs not working.â
âLockwood, did you tell her to step on the â
âStep-on-the-brake-while-doing-that-yes I was just about to say, George. I think I know how to teach someone how to drive. Unless youâd like to take over?â
"Oh, please. You couldn't pay me to sit in the front seat with that maniac driving."
She got her parking brake down, checked her mirrors, and they were off. For a minute there it was quite enjoyable, trundling through the mostly empty backstreets of London. Lockwood even tried to prop his feet on the dashboard before getting badly told off by George. He was forever propping his feet up at the slightest chance - at the Archives, at home, and now here. Maybe it was all part of some innate desire to be a wheelbarrow.
And so, things were going perfectly rosy, until she faced her first real challenge - oncoming traffic. As soon as the car heading towards them came into plain enough view, the four of them went into hysterics. The road was just narrow enough to make overtaking a little too tricky for her abilities at the moment.
âWhat do I do? WHY isnât he slowing down?â
âDonât panic, itâs alright. Stop a little to the side.â
She cursed, fumbling for the brake pedal her foot had carelessly slipped off of. Lockwood was nervously watching the car get closer and closer to them.
âNow would be a good time to stop, Y/N. Brake! BRAKE!â
They shot ahead sharply, swerving right sharply, narrowly missing the car passing them. Lucy swore loudly and George gripped the car grab handle above him as he started scolding no one in particular.Â
"NOT THE BRAKE!â
Lockwood gripped the steering wheel over her hands, frantically trying to steer them to safety. With some difficulty, she shifted her foot back to the right pedal and slammed the brakes. There was a bit of a scuffle in the backseat, including George going off on Lucy in a very âI-told-you-soâ tone.
At the front of the car, Lockwood and she were still frozen, reeling from the past very exciting 30 seconds. Her eyes settled to where his hands were still resting on hers, tightly pinning her fingers to the steering wheel.
âYour hands are so warm.â
He peeled them off almost instantly, and she was sorry she brought it up in the first place. âYeah, well, theyâre panicking, just like the rest of me. What the bloody hell was that? I thought you said you knew how to drive!â
ïżœïżœI do know how to drive.â She bit back a smile at the sight of her 180 cm tall boyfriend trying to catch his breath with his hand dramatically splayed across his chest, muttering something about Americans handing out licenses to just about anyone.
The drive back to the rental car agency was much less eventful. After returning the car, they trudged back up the road to Portland Row. As they hung their coats up, she met his thoughtful gaze.
âWhat?â
âNothing.â He drew in a breath and hesitated. âYou look nice.â
âIs this some convoluted way of patting yourself on the back for your fashion choices?â
âSo you agree? You think you look nice?â
She groaned. She should have known no good was going to come from showing Lockwood Mean Girls. Still, it was hard to stay mad for long at a face like that. "Youâre such a nuisance. AâŠdelightful one, arguably, but still a nuisance.â
"You find me delightful?"
"That's your takeaway?â
"Next thing I know youâll be saying you fancy me.â
âIâm literally wearing your shirt right now.â
âLuce!â He turned and started down the hallway. âY/N says Iâm delightful!â
As usual, the four of them reconvened in the kitchen a little after lunch for a tea break. Well, the four of them minus Lockwood, who had been bullied into fixing a plumbing issue in the basement. They sipped their tea and chewed their biscuits in silence. She wished she could bring down a little for Lockwood.
âMaybe I should go see if he needs some help.â
âNo!â George nearly upset his tea, which made Lucy choke on her biscuit. â Donât go down there. Youâll distract him, he wonât get shit done, and thatâll be one more week without hot water for me.â
So she sat back down sulkily, brooding over her tea, until another topic of conversation struck her.
âSpeaking of Lockwood -â
â- no oneâs mentioned Lockwood-â
â-did you guys see the socks he was wearing today?â
Lucy and George didnât even try to muffle their groans.
âThey were very nice socks! They had the most precious pattern of baby ducks against a darling blue backgr-â
She stopped short as Lucy reached across the table to grip her hand.
âY/N, I say this with love, but if I have to hear one more word about Lockwood, or his stupid bloody socks, I am going to ram a fork into my eye.â
She blinked, confused, and scoffed. âGosh, you guys are so overdramatic. I donât talk about him that much.â
George and Lucy exchanged a look.
âOkay, so maybe I like my boyfriend and I enjoy talking about him. Is that really so bad?â
Lockwood rescued all of them from the siege of Georgeâs response by walking in right then, holding a wrench and looking a little worse for wear, but appeared very pleased with himself.
âFixed!â
âFinally.â
Lucy frowned at the clock above the stove. âIsnât that client meeting at Tooting today?â
Lockwoodâs smile slipped right off as he glanced at his watch and rushed out of the kitchen, muttering furiously. His simple black leather watch which complemented his wrist so perfectly-
âY/N! Time to leave!â
Maybe George and Lucy had a point.
Once their client meeting had finished, she and Lockwood stood on the pavement outside the house, looking for cabs to flag down. It was a balmy evening, and a cloudless sky meant they could enjoy the warmth of the setting sun beating down on them. She squinted down the road while Lockwood pulled something out from his coat pocket.
âFor a job well done this morning and at the meetingâŠâ he revealed two pieces of tightly wrapped square candies sitting on his palm. âA little treat.â
She stared at the candy for a moment, thinking hard.
âCaramel! I just remembered.â
ââŠwhat?â
âThatâs what we call it in the States. A caramel.â
âItâs made of caramel, sure-â
âPlural is caramels.â
He made a strangled sound from the back of his throat. âChanging an uncountable noun into a countable one? Thatâs just lazy.â
âFine. What do you call it?â
âToffee.â The vowels rolled off his tongue like silk in that English accent that had made it difficult to fully concentrate from day one. Standing next to him, watching him gently and methodically unfolding the golden wrapper, shining and glinting like a beacon of lightâŠmaybe this was all she needed to be happy.
âTaw-fee?â
He pulled a face at her exaggerated American drawl, and she leaned her head on his shoulder as he pried apart the stuck halves of the toffee. She watched him visibly relax as the first tangy notes hit his tongue, her own half close to melting in her palm under the brunt of the setting sun. He met her gaze and gave a faint smile, almost reflexively covering her hand with his own.
âGod, youâre so American. So, which is it? Toffee or caramel?â
She bites into what's left of the soft treat she's scraped off her palm. It's warm and comforting and she instantly feels a little more happy. Maybe it's the candy, or maybe it's the boy whose side is pressed into hers. Love, she decides. It's love.
âHow many cups of tea have you had today?â
As idyllic as the weekend had been, they were back to their usual busy routine which meant that their evening tea break was the first time theyâd see each other since breakfast. She had just walked into the kitchen where Lockwood was seated at the kitchen table, pouring over a mess of papers with a cup of tea to the side. One of the first things she had learnt about Lockwood was his near-debilitating addiction to tea. Now, he silently took a sip from his mug and she gave an exaggerated sigh, settling into the opposite end of the table.
âYou really drink too much caffeine.â
He quirked his lips into a lopsided half-smile -/ he peered at the papers she had spilled onto the table. âWhatâs allâŠâ he gestured to her papers with his mug, ââŠthat?â
âThe Rotwell agents give me hell for my American accent when theyâre on duty at DEPRAC.â She held up her list of words dolefully. ââLeast I can do is pronounce things right.â
He slid into the chair next to her, taking a look at the list. âWhich one are you at?â
âPri-vacy. Pri...vacy. Nope, can't do it.â
âOf course it sounds weird when you say it like that. Try using it in a sentence.â
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine. If I have to say âpri-vacyâ one more time, Iâm running you through with my rapier."
Lockwood choked on his tea.
"...or, you know...'pry-vacy' sounds perfectly fine."
She gave him a brief smile. âAnyway, Iâve got to do a Satchellâs run now. Lucy says weâre out of flares. Donât wait up for me.â
It took her a decent amount of time to collect all the supplies they were out of stock on, yet when she returned Lockwood was still sitting in that same chair, staring at the same papers with worn-out eyes, distractedly tugging at his hair. He barely looked up when she walked in, mystified.
âYouâre still up?â
He rubbed his face firmly. âI canâtâŠI canât figure this out.â She took a closer look at the papers. There were reports dating back two centuries on the house of one of their upcoming cases.
âThe investigation is tomorrow and I have no idea what or where the Source could be.â
âWellâŠmaybe Georgeâs figured it out.â
âIf he did, heâd be home by now.â He hunched over the papers once again, his head swaying dangerously close to the table, and she was instantly reminded of how exhausted Lockwood had looked that morning. As if he hadnât gotten a wink of sleep. She started stacking some papers together.
âItâs getting late. We should head to bed.â
âBut Iâm not done yet.â
âYou can continue in the morning, but right now, you need to rest.â
His features hardened like he was ready to start a fight, but it lasted all of half a second before they caved to exhaustion. He looked like a drenched cat left out in the rain, with his hair messed up and in disarray.
âGeorge is still at the Archives. What kind of a boss would I be to go to bed now? What kind of aâŠfriend?â
Lockwood leaned back in his chair, briefly pressing a hand to his eyes and then his forehead, his forearm trembling ever so slightly. In the dim light of the kitchen, he seemed more skeleton than Man with his malnourished pallor and the scar on his lip being carefully outlined by a shadow. She ran a hand through his hair, down his neck, all the way to his shoulder.
âHey. Donât beat yourself up over it. Youâre human, too.â
He gave a deep sigh. âFine. Iâll come in a while.â
âPromise?â
He gave a jerky nod. The tea in his mug had gone stone cold by then, and so she brewed him a fresh cup. He looked up, confused, as she placed it next to his papers.
âWhat about the caffeine?â
She bit the inside of her cheek and combed down the hair sticking up all haywire, as if she hadnât heard him. âWhat about it?â
He smiled faintly and gave the hand on his shoulder a light squeeze, and returned to his work with his eyes humming with a little more energy.
Later that night, she dreamt that he was falling, and she was losing her mind trying to save him.
She should have known nothing was going to right in the job from the very beginning. None of them had been able to find much information on the house, and they were running late, so tempers were running very high. Even during the case itself, they were forced to split up and fumble through improvised plans. That was until she had stumbled onto Lockwood frozen at the basement door, looking down into the darkness in a strange way.Â
Go back, he had said. I donât know what any of us can expect in this place. So Iâll come with you, she had replied. Or letâs wait for George or Lucy. I canât. Why not? Itâs different. I donât have the time to explain it. Different how?
Youâre more important.
The look on his face was more foreign than the house itself.
Now they were home, back at Portland Row. Lucy and George had sensed something was off and retired to their rooms. Lockwood headed towards the kitchen, and she followed him. He hadnât spoken a word since her face had blanched at the sight of him poised at the basementâs entrance. She tugged at the ends of her hair. She could feel an argument brewing and she didnât like it one bit.
âAre you okay?â
Lockwood continued rummaging through the refrigerator for his routine drink of orange juice, taking his time to reply. âDonât I look okay?â
âYes. No.â He was terribly confusing. âWhy did you say you werenât important?â
âI didnât say that.â
âYou said you were less important.â
He finally twisted the cap off the carton with his trembling fingers. The case had shaken all of them up, but for some reason, he was trying to hide it.
âWellâŠitâs not not true.â
âNo it isnât.â
âIâm a figurehead, Y/N. I represent the agency, thatâs my name on the plaque out there, but thatâs about it. You, Lucy, GeorgeâŠyouâre the soul of the agency.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âIfâŠheaven forbid, something were to happen to one of usâŠâ
Oh, he was so aggravating. She massaged her temples. She was going to punch him soon if she wasnât careful.
ââŠthe lot of youâd be better off without me than anyone else, and-â
"Oh god, shut up already!"
Lockwood abandoned the carton and straightened, and they glared at each other from opposite ends of the kitchen. âOr what? You'll shoot me?"
His expression softened only marginally when he saw how close she was to tears. She shook her head.
"If you pull another stunt like this...I might just have to marry you.â
âIâd have to marry you so that you can look down at your bloody hand and remember that there are people out there who would be nothing without you.â
âY/-â
âShame on you, Anthony J. Lockwood. Do you think George wouldnât care about losing his best friend? Or Lucy? Or me? Hm?â
The tears had started to trickle down her face, and he walked towards her with a sympathetic expression, any and all rage long forgotten, and offered her his handkerchief. She could barely manage a weak glare before caving and accepting it, wiping away at her face. As soon as she was done, she wrapped her arms around him, and he enveloped her in a warm hug that smelled faintly of vanilla.
âThat was aâŠa terrible thing to say, Anthony.â
âI know. I didnât mean to worry you.â
âWell, youâre doing a pretty shitty job then. Iâm worried about you every day.â
She felt rather than saw his smile, though he could perfectly picture it in her mind - uneven and tipped to the right, but perfectly sincere.
"Also, I'm pretty sure that shooting remark counts as xenophobia."
"Yes, I'm hugging you very xenophobically now."
She buried her face into his chest and scrunched her nose hard. It was moments like these that only cemented her faith that she was never going to find somebody who made her feel the way Lockwood did. Seeing him standing outside the basement, she didnât even need to think about what to do next. It had become incredibly instinctual - her readiness to take his hand and hurtle into the latest oblivion, blind as a bat. It didnât get more simple than this: she just wanted to be wherever he was.Â
It was him and her, and her and him - Portland Rowâs cripplingly disaster couple, Mr A.J. Lockwood and Miss Americana.
TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits
#lockwood and co#lockwood & co#lockwood and co netflix#anthony lockwood#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood imagine#fanfic#fanfiction#olivia rodrigo#guts spilled#so american#songfic
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WELCOME TO MY BLOG ! fearless era.
in which you know a little about me and make requests for short stories to me and I turn your dreams into realities. after all, I am a writer of dreams. đ
first, introductions: my name is clarice, but you can call me clary.
I'm brazilian, so obviously english is not my first language, so there may be some errors in the imagines.
I love taylor swift (my favorite album is fearless, but I think you get the idea :) and one direction, as well as lana del rey, artic monkeys, among many other artists.
I love romcoms, whether films or books, clichés, sun, spring, roses, dogs and I am a person who really likes to talk.
my mbti is enfp, - at least that's what i think, at the moment! - and I have a sanguine temperament.
and I DON'T write smut.
below I will put a list of the characters and fandoms that I mainly write about, but if you want to request something different, feel free.
masterlist. đ€ïž
BRIDGERTON đ
colin bridgerton, benedict bridgerton, anthony bridgerton, gregory bridgerton, simon basset.
FORMULA ONE. đ
all of the grid, but mainly, lando norris, oscar piastri, george russell and max verstappen.
FOOTBALL PLAYERS âœ
richarlison, rodrygo goes, jude bellingham, vini jr, pedri, gavi, and all of the real madrid team.
HARRY POTTER (golden era)đȘ
harry potter, draco malfoy, blaise zabini, fred and george weasley, ron weasley, oliver wood, charlie weasley.
HARRY POTTER (marauders era) đ°ïž
remus lupin, sirius black, james potter, peter pettigrew, regulus black, severus snape.
THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA đŠ
peter pevensie, edmund pevensie, caspian.
CELEBRITIES đŸ
timothĂ©e chalamet, josh hutcherson, louis partridge, andrew garfield, william moseley, tom holland, ben barnes, archie renaux, cameron boyce â.
RANDOM đ©·
trodrick heffley, peter parker 1 and 3, matteo balsano, simon alavrez, ramiro ponce, gaston perida, gabo moretti, lorenzo guevara, dede duarte, willy wonka, chad denforth (hsm), will turner (potc) legolas greenleaf (lor), laurie laurence, supa strikas, luke ross (jessie), carmen sandiego characters, zach mitchell (jw), jurassic world: camp cretaceous caracthers, carlos de vil, jay ja'far, harry hook, ray beech, charlie delgado, aurek, jim hawkins, jack frost, ever after high characters, scooby doo characters, hiccup, the greatest showman, dick grayson and wally west (young justice) .
đŠ well, that's it my sweeties and I hope you liked me and send your requests. đ
WRITERDREAMXS ©, 2024. đ
#lando norris x reader#jude bellingham x fem!reader#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham x reader#lando norris x you#lando x reader#lando norris fanfic#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham fic#supablr#descendants x reader#supa strikas x reader#peter pevensie x reader#edmund pevensie x reader#caspian x reader#formula one x reader#formula one#fluff#x reader#soy luna fanfiction#taylor swift#one direction#harry potter x reader#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy x reader#marauders era#marauders x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#timothee chalamet x reader
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hands down I think the best writing choice of anthonyâs in all of s2 was grant shooting terry (semi) consciously. soooo much more fucked up than willy just being willy. love you tony you sure know how to make a man mentally ill
#anthony burch#grant wilson#willy stampler#no bc hereâs the thing#it couldâve gone with willy being willy and making grant do it and it wouldâve been torture and sad and whatever#but that means NOTHING compared to the absolute brain fuckery that is sniping your best friend because you *know* itâll stop the kids#reflecting on the end of the season#dndads#dungeons and daddies
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So like
Is anyone gonna talk about how fucking awesome Taylorâs relationship is with his mom?
Like she loves him and she gives him lots of love and attention despite her being a single working mom (sheâs rich and a va but yâa know still applies)
And Taylor loves his mom so much. He literally threatens Willy Stampler, the canonically scariest and worst villain we know, that if he hurts his mom or wastes her time heâll kill him.
And Cassandra fully accepts her weird ass son. Sheâs like âyeah this is my silly boy and I love himâ.
They both love each other so much so unconditionally it breaks my heart.
Which is to say if anything happens to Cassandra, Anthony Burch Iâll never forgive you.
#dndaddies#dungeons and daddies#dndads#taylor swift (of dndads flavor)#not that taylor swift#the anime one#cassandra swift#willy stampler#taylor and Cassandra healing mommy issues since S2
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So, in the aftershow talk Anthony laments about season 2 but honestly? I love season 2.
I think season 1 had a lot more clear of an objective, and a lot more clear of a structure, but thatâs kind of perfect for the story of season 2 right?
season 2 is a story about being a teen. Itâs about all the ups and downs and struggles and heartache and everything about being a teen, itâs about crushes, and emotions, and fathers, and weird mustaches, and itâs about the incredibly gen z/alpha experience of trying to figure out what you can do in a world that feels like itâs doomed by the people before you. Itâs a very teen story. Itâs very proud of this, and it does it very well, and while I canât say whether or not it was *intentional* I think the structure and flow of season 2 is perfect for that story.
It starts off with a decently defined structure in school, with a vague but simple enough goal to reach, then youâre thrusted out into the world, having to make big choices for yourself and thatâs when it starts to get⊠Messy. Things arenât as simple as they used to be, thereâs lots of moving pieces, people who are going to be making their own decisions that you canât really change, thereâs a lot of things going on. And it even feels difficult to lean on the people you care about but you do it anyways.
I think season 2 has had some of the best pc to pc emotional character interactions of the entire series and I donât think you get there without season 2 being structured the way it is. Season 2 being so much more loose and more focused on the players pushing the plot I think purely serves it for the story it ends up telling. I donât think you get moments like Scary siding with Willy and even while lashing out and eldritch blasting still being hugged by Linc and piled on by everyone to show sheâs cared for in a season like season 1. I just donât think that happens, because I donât think everything being the way it is and the more almost tv show like structuring of season 1 would allow for that. It had plenty of great emotional moments, but I think the teen nature of it being messier and more impulsive and trying to figure out who you are and where your place in the world is absolutely benefits from a looser structure and goals that are less neatly defined.
The dads have, for the most part, figured themselves out as people even on episode 1 hitting. Sure they all grow and learn and change, but they never stop being those people they are during episode 1, they just become better versions of themselves. Even Glenn. Debatably. (he definitely changed but he might have become a worse person, like heâs a stoner who plays a guitar and says âfar outâ at the start and by the end is creating big vats of oil to blow up an entire commune and pissing in the sand lying down.) Theyâre adults, they have their priorities, and they know who they are. Weâre in a freaky situation, weâve been through a lot, letâs get our kids, letâs get tf out, letâs maybe try and fix some things because weâre not totally monsters or anything. Bing bang boom.
The dads have very clear outlines, but the season 2 cast has very strong vibes.
Theyâre a lot more chaotic, loosely defined, and their outlines are less immediate, but in exchange they are absolutely vibrating with energy and possibility and chaos and all of these interesting dynamics and things that never feel forced because, well, theyâre still figuring themselves out! By all rights, they SHOULDNâT have those same defined outlines to their characters that the season 1 cast had.
The entire story is about being messy, and finding your way in life, and I think season 2 does that perfectly, and I think none of the incredible stuff that everyone brings to the table works without Anthony doing what he did and doing the incredible job he did. Good shit king.
#dndads#dndaddies#dungeons and daddies#dndaddies season 2#dndads season 2 spoilers#dungeons and daddies season 2#dungeons and daddies season 1 spoilers
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Dunegons and Daddies Season 2 spoilers for past episode, like⊠46, but Anthony has the chance to do something really funny. and by funny i mean gut-wrenching.
This WHOLE SERIES the Omegadads have been saying âif you help me get to full power, Iâll bring back someone you love.â
Like Glenn was offered to give up his son for his wife
Scary was offered Terry Jrâs life haphazardly, even though she could tell Willy didnât really mean it.
Iâm certain there were other things when Willy was flippant with lives because he could do whatever he wanted and that includes bringing them back,
⊠So Normal sang a WHOLE SONG about how he accidentally helped Willy get what he wanted.
Willy even said Thank You to Normal the last time they were face-to-face.
And heâs has a dead loved one.
And a lot of unresolved and very complicated feelings about his family and the world
And a complex toward desiring praise and approval
And heâs like the last person left who could combat Willy who Willy could still manipulate.
(He was literally JUST MANIPULATED by Willy)
To the point where Willy even stated that he couldâve gone for normal instead of Scary
And we already established from Scam Likely that Hermie could technically be brought back if the person resurrecting him didnât care about him coming back wrong.
âŠ
Either this is how Oakworthy could still win, or how we get a final BURST of Oakworthy angst before the end of the series, but Willy should know the kid is dead and NOTHING is stopping Anthony from doing something absolutely horrendous in the final confrontation episodes.
#oakworthy#DNDads#dungeons and daddies#normal oak#normal oak swallows garcia#hermie the unworthy#dndaddies#dndaddies spoilers#dungeons and daddies season 2#DNDads spoilers#Dunegons and daddies spoilers#Willy Stampler#I think with Mercedes there we donât have to worry about Normal falling for it#at least for very long
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im running out of pinterest meme templates yallâčïž
anyways.. Willy stampler slander part 3 and soemthing that is not related to wilyl syampler cause.. ghank god
#dndads#dungeons and daddies#fuck willy stampler#we love to see it#idk bro hes so fuckign#i hate himđ#willy stampler kys challenge/hj#AND THE WORST PART???#ANTHONY BURCH DESCRIBES HIM AS HOT.#Fuck you anthoyk im gonna crh let that man be amything but handsome im sobbing#oh and yeet bigly and grant wilson#they were arguably my favourite duo in the entire podcags#like my heartâčïž but also.. their friendship is just superisor
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Anthony is really the DM who follows the rule of cool and I love it
A one off joke that Willy and Scary break into D.A.D.D.I.E.S HQ and leave in mechs for him to go "okay ya sure, they leave in Loader Mechs from Alien which now explains why you guys saw huge footprints outside when you walked into HQ"
Or him including the Army Of Two bros and lets the others try to wrestle their masks and weapons off of them
or him just going "ah yes the 8 circles of hell Pride, Sloth, Gluttony, Lust, Wrath, Greed, Envy and saying the B-Word"
or the teens going "we never saw elevators, in this apocalyptic world there are no elevators and its the first time we see this" and anthony just goes "gotcha, so after leaving the up and down room you are so confused-"
I actually appreciate him not following a strict and dour worldbuilding rule and is so on board to introduce things just if they are funny and then he turns around and doesnt hesitate to punch you in the gut with feelings and emotions
#dndads#dndads spoilers#sorry ive finally listened to the backlog of dndads episodes i had and i love em#and i have thots
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okay so weâve seen glenn and ron so far in season two and theyâve been kind of what I expected.
glenn is pretty much the same as he was season one. it makes sense, heâs set in his whole thing, heâs vibing in hell with morgan and is sporting the same chill stoner vibes as before. the notable thing with him was that there wasnât really animosity between him and nick (which also makes sense given their whole deal in season one). heâs always been far removed and it makes sense that in season two heâs still rockin with it.
ron then was a really touching surprise because he continued to grow as a person (insert beth may snickering here). he connected easily with scary and hit me like a fucking freight train with the line about him being sorry that she didnât realize that losing terry jr. was her loss too. heâs this strange intermediary between the men in their family because willy took advantage of her needing someone to validate her pain, terry jr. was seen as a cause of it and therefore couldnât help ease it truly (until things were too late), and then ron is here being his odd little self and extends sympathy to her because he also lost terry jr. and can understand. kudos to beth for ep. 41 because she rode the line between comedy and genuinely heartfelt and deep emotional moments like a champ.
and now hereâs where we turn to speculation:
Iâve seen a lot of folks saying theyâre worried about henry (and I feel like heâs probably going to warrant that because duh, it all comes back to the oak family when it comes to the doodler). however! my first point here is that we shouldnât ignore darryl.
I feel like we see the most thought going into the oaks (and again, rightfully so, will and anthony are serving us trauma and drama on a platter) and I think one of the sacrifices with that comes at the extent of the wilson boys. the darryl/grant arc was the first time I really, truly got what dndads was all about. specifically, mattâs incredible line where darryl is replying to the other dads saying that he should showcase vulnerability to grant with darryl snapping and saying that he canât be fully honest because heâs putting on a brave face because he doesnât know if theyâll make it out and if he and carol will even stay together if they do. that line then contrasted later when he says that if grant asks him a question heâll do his best to answer truthfully which allows for the big emotional connection they were lacking.
the wilson father/son relationship hinges on the idea of not being able to love the pain away and we see that extend into the next generation in a deeply tragic way. grant canât make his mental illness magically disappear by loving his son despite how badly he clearly wants to. he canât âweâll talk about it laterâ his way into a healthy relationship where heâs able to offer his son both stability and truth. heâs fucked up and traumatized and never fully dealt with things and heâs dealing with the ramifications.
so how do we think darryl feels about that? how do we think darryl would feel knowing that he couldnât love away grantâs mental illness (which isnât something you can do, but he feels immensely guilty about in season one) and seeing the disastrous effect it had on the relationship between his son and grandson to the point where linc no longer refers to him as a dad? I personally really do think that heâll act as a balm between the two and finally provide that space for them to become father and son again.
thereâs truly so much I could say on the wilson family because Iâm fascinated by the transition between the most stereotypically masculine family dynamic to a queered one (in both senses of the world) and how the thru line for the generations is this idea of not being able to 1. disclose the truth out of a sense of protection (see: frank hiding his marital and monetary issues, darryl hiding his martial issues and fear of not surviving faerun, and grant hiding who he is and what he does) and 2. love away the pain/illness.
and now we turn to the oak boys. Iâm operating on the assumption that henry will be the last dad that they seek out because 1. glenn and terry jr. are in the same spot which means we get a two for one combo deal in hell 2. lark and sparrow clearly have a bad or at the very least strained relationship with their dad and will be less likely to jump on seeking him out and 3. the oak family started the whole doodler thing in this show so it makes sense that theyâll end it.
and for the sake of transparency: hereâs where my bias comes through. henry was my favorite season one dad. normal is my favorite season two kid. will campos if youâre reading this, I want you to know that if I could simultaneously give you an academy award and sue you for emotional damages, I would.
the oaks have the most literal device explaining their generational trauma. hildy was ripped from her world after her companions were brutally killed in front of her, barry is a piece of shit, henry has the weight of both his father and having to be a father despite not having a role model, lark and sparrow are fucked up beyond belief in a manner of ways that starts at fucking their twinâs spouse and ends with starting the literal apocalypse. and then thereâs normal. bearing the brunt of it all when he wasnât even given the support to. heâs been carrying the weight of expectation since birth. his sister is hero, heâs normal and yet heâs anything but. thatâs a whole other essay (catch me writing that when itâs not 2am).
back to the twins and henry though. from their view itâs bad right? lark hates his dad and destroyed the world. sparrow was an accomplice. I canât imagine that things were easy after the doodler was released in the oak-garcia household. ESPECIALLY â and this has had me uncomfortable since we learned it offhand in episode 29 of the season â because henry and mercedes had another kid. first things first (and this might just be a me and my cultural background thing), but a minimum decade age gap between your first and second kids is A Lot. especially given the context here that henry struggles with being a father for the aforementioned reasons and his children literally Ended The World. I dunno about you but I think that Iâd avoid having more kids at pretty much all costs at that point. but he and mercedes donât. and hey maybe birdie/birdy was an accident. but my suspicion here (and I very much might be reading too deep into something mentioned in a literal âsee you againâ parody) is that birdie was a second chance kid. which would fucking blow if you were the aforementioned dad-stabbingâeldritch-creature-releasing child because it would look like your dad had gone âokay well that didnât work out I canât find a way to make these kids work so letâs try another oneâ which would justify the distance and dislike of henry from both of the boys.
Iâm a very big fan of henry. heâs fucked up in the exact way I like my fictional men and also reminds me of guys from the city I grew up in which is both appalling and endearing. however, this is absolutely a move I could see him justifying to himself which morally makes me wanna walk into the sea and from a character/story standpoint makes me wanna jump up and down in glee. I really, truly am hoping that things pan out like that and we see a henry who loves his beautiful boys very deeply, but also gave up on them in exchange for a do-over.
Iâm especially excited to see how he interacts with normal because my first instinct based on season one without my fucked up and evil birdie theory is that heâll love normal and make him feel special and seen while my second post-birdiegate instinct is that heâs just not going to care anymore and therefore do fuck-all for normal. he has the energy of a man who eventually just stops trying because he canât ever make everything better. will campos, if you deliver on that, Iâll figure out how to sneak the oak family into an academic paper.
finally (for now), Iâm predicting that the familial reunions will reflect the how the anchors broke. glenn, ron, and darryl will be love while henry will be hate. I think thereâs a lot of possibility there that I can break down when itâs not almost 3am. thanks for reading! lmk what you think, I really want to discuss this with folks and get your takes!!
#yes! the formatting is whack! Iâll clean it in the morning!#dndads#oh dndads you make me so silly#I sit down and go hmm I like the new arc set up and suddenly itâs two hours later and Iâve written 1500 words about it#sponsored by adhd and brain rot#dungeons and daddies#big ol ramblings on#henry oak#lark oak#sparrow oak#darryl wilson#grant wilson#if any of the daddies see this#know that my promise at the end to will is true and Iâll go through with it and @ yâall#dndads season 2#gonna trademark birdiegate#cheers
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