#I’m like 90% sure you lives down under before

[ssreeder]

SREEDIE YOU UPDATED and I haven’t even read the last chapter yet…

in my defence, I have moved countries so uh… keep waiting for me, my love, I shall soon return from the war <3

YOU MOVED?!??? I demand details please. I’ll wait forever for you my reekie-leekie. <3

[parkersbliss]

you lock the 141 outside your house (I know my rights tiktok)

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x american!female reader 

synopsis: you lock them out of your (their?) house, claiming you "know your rights." based on a tiktok trend with soldiers.

warnings: none just fluff and humor :)))

a/n: I wrote this in like an hour and I think it's the funniest thing EVER thanks

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for tf141!

SEE TIKTOK HERE

—

Ghost: 

You watch as your boyfriend gets out of his truck in the driveway. He grabs his bag from the passenger seat and makes his way to the front door, a smile twitching under his mask at the sight of you waiting for him. 

Just as he steps to the porch, you close the door and lock it. “I know my third amendment rights!”

Ghost stops at the door, dropping his bag. Rights? What were you talking about? “Your what?” 

“No Soldier shall, in time of peace, be quartered in any house without the consent of the owner,” You reply, reading off your phone. 

Ghost sighs. Third amendment? Of course, the one American he dates is the one that has them all memorized. You could probably recite them in your sleep. Patriotism, or whatever. Which makes zero sense. You were living with him in Manchester. If all went well and you got married, he was making sure he changed your status to British. 

“You fucking Americans.” He grabs the key from his bag, going to unlock the door only to find you locking it. “Are you serious?”

You show your phone at him through the glass, the third amendment displayed on a Google search. He stares back at you from his mask, unamused. “Bloody hell, woman,” he mutters. 

You giggle from behind the door and give him a few more minutes before going to unlock it. You knew Simon’s limits. You only needed a few seconds of fun anyway, but by the time you unlock it, he’s gone. 

“Simon?” You call out, poking your head out the door and checking around the house. His truck was still there, so he didn’t turn back around. You don’t see any movements or even hear anything. Was he picked up by aliens? 

A thud sounds from behind you, and you yelp, shutting the door and turning around. 

Simon stands in front of you, arms crossed and his duffel bag on the floor.

“What the hell?” You said, looking him up and down. 

“I should be asking you that,” He retorts. “You should really lock your windows, love.” 

“Are you… did you climb through one?” 

“You locked me out.” 

“I went to unlock it!” 

“Third amendment rights, my arse.” He grabs your waist, pulling you towards him. “We’re in England.” 

You shrug, tracing up his arm. “Thought it was funny.” 

Simon just sighs. “Americans.” 

Gaz: 

“Oh, hell no!” You exclaim as Gaz approaches the door. “I know my third amendment rights.” The lock clicks. 

“No fucking way,” Gaz said, strolling up to the glass storm door. 

“No soldiers in this home.” 

He stares at you, his hands on his hips and that signature scowl on his face. There was no way he was coming home to this bullshit right now. “Open the door.” 

“No quartering soldiers without my permission,” You replied. 

Gaz rolls his eyes. Your home? He was pretty sure his name was on the mortgage, even if you were living in it 90% of the time. “I own the fucking property! I live here. You’re the guest.” 

You shrug, grinning. “Not anymore.” 

He runs a hand down his face. Sometimes just sometimes he regrets finding your stubbornness so damn attractive.  “I’m going to crash out, actually.” 

“Crash outside? Yeah.”

“Let me in!” He shouts, grabbing the door handle and jiggling it. 

“No!” You shout back, holding onto it and preventing him from entering without your permission. 

Gaz leans against the glass. “Remind me why I chose to date an American?” 

You smile at him. “Because we’re funny, and we have better Chinese food.” 

He glares at you, trying to unlock the door again. He groans when there’s no avail. “Babe!” 

You say nothing, finding his annoyance quite amusing and a change of pace for once. 

And then he actually crashes out, grabbing the handle and pulling, twisting, pounding at it. He yells a string of curse words and then starts banging on the doorframe. He gives up, frowning, and leans his forehead on the glass. “Please?” 

You unlock it. “Thought you’d never ask.” 

He storms inside, throwing you over his shoulder. “You are so in for it.” 

“I like where this is going,” You giggle as he throws you on the couch. 

He raises a brow, hands coming to your waist. “Yeah?” He starts tickling you. You yelp, laughing under him and trying to push away. 

Gaz doesn’t relent and continues tickling you even after you’ve pleaded with him to stop. “You lock me out of my fucking claim it’s your right,” He mutters. “Consider this my very reasonable punishment.” 

Soap: 

“I know my rights!” You shout, watching Soap approach the door. 

He stops in his tracks, tilting his head. He had no idea what you said. The poor guy could barely hear from all the bombs going on around him, and you shout through a door? Good plan.  “What are you on about?” He asked. 

“There will be no soldiers in my home!” You close the glass door and lock it. 

He approaches the front door, staring at you through the glass. His expression is clueless, brows furrowed. “You mean our home?” He knocks on the glass. “Can I come in?” 

“Nope!” 

He frowns. “Why?” 

“Third amendment.” 

“Amendment?” He scoffs. What the hell are you talking about? Is this what he gets for dating an American? You start proclaiming your rights? What’s next, the pledge of allegiance? “Are you taking the piss? Does this look like the land of the free?” 

You giggle at him, his accent thickening with his frustration. “I’m still an American!” 

“Trust me, I know! Can I please come inside?” 

“No soldiers allowed.” You tape up a piece of paper displaying those words. 

Soap continues frowning at you and realizes he isn’t going to be let in anytime soon. It’s a good thing he knew how to easily change that. Americans and their rights. More like Americans and their feelings. He sits down on the porch steps, facing away from you, rests his chin in his hand, and sighs loudly. 

You don’t budge. 

He sighs again, kicking his boots on the porch, turning back at you with sad eyes. Still nothing. He concludes there was one last option to get you to let him in. He grabs his phone, and you watch with furrowed brows as he types something in. Suddenly, music is blasting from his phone as he looks at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes ever. Not just any music, but the sad hamster violin music. 

“Oh my god.” You unlock the door, opening it up to him. “You’re such a baby.” 

He practically skips inside, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Your baby.”

Price: 

Your husband stands on the porch, rolling his eyes at you.

“I know my rights!” You shout at him through the window. 

“Do you, now?” He asked, playing along with your prank or whatever this was. If it brought you this much amusement to lock him out, he might as well indulge in it. That was the kind of man he was. Until he started freezing of course, then he would demand you let him in. 

You nod your head. “As an American, amendment 3 of the Bill of Rights says that I don’t have to house you if I don’t want to.” 

Price hums. At least they taught you something in American schools. “Does that extend when you’re in another country?” 

“It does to me.” 

He huffs, grabbing something from his pocket and displaying it to you. “You know I have a house key, yes?”

“I’ll just lock it again.” 

He tilts his head at you. You were really trying to sell whatever rights you thought you had. “Really?” 

“I’m taking this very seriously.” 

Price strokes his beard. “I can see that.” An idea pops into his head, and he steps away from the glass and in front of the door. You didn’t want to let him in? That’s fine. You wanted to lock the door? No problem. He’s got methods of entering from being in the military, after all. “Guess I’ll just have to kick down the door.” He raises his foot, fully intent on doing it. You were going to repaint the door anyway, might as well get a new one. 

You swing open the door. “Are you crazy?” 

He strolls past you. “Did I lock you outside our home? Besides, crazy would’ve been bombing the house.” 

Your lips parted, unsure if he was joking. You assume he is, but his expression says otherwise. “Are you being serious?” 

He laughs at your face, grabbing your hand. “Only if you start proclaiming your rights again.”

You put your hands up. “What rights? Suddenly, I’m feeling like this soldier can stay as long as he likes.” 

Price presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “Thought so.” 

[reverie-starlight]

{airport pickup - michael kaiser }

I saw this vid and immediately knew I had to write something inspired by it.

fem!reader, no physical descriptions, lots of fluffy fluff, I’m extremely down bad for one (1) Michael Kaiser and it shows in this fic. reader speaks a bit of german. if he’s extremely out of character to a horrifying degree, just know that I haven’t actually read the manga, he just takes up 90% of my brain. I’m working on it I promise 🥹

dividers by @/cafekitsune

kaiser isn’t used to being on this side of an airport pickup.

normally the roles would be reversed- he’d be coming home after a round of away games, tired and sore after pushing himself, and you’d be waiting past the gates with a smile and open arms looking like the epitome of home.

but today it’s him who is nervously glancing at his phone every few minutes, checking the time, waiting for a notification from you to see if you’ve landed or not.

you've been away for work, a conference of some sort that you had been handpicked for. he’s very proud of you, of course, but now he’s had a taste of what you must feel while he’s away and it makes his heart hurt. at least when he's overseas with his team he has constant distractions and he's often too tired to fully register the loneliness that comes with not sleeping beside you at night.

but now that he's on the off-season, training doesn't take up as much of his time and he's forced to confront a house that doesn't quite feel like a home without you.

all he wants is for you to be in his arms again. to hear your laughter, your slightly off-key singing while you’re doing chores around the house.

he’d wonder if this is really how you feel when he goes away, but he’s confident enough in your feelings to know that it is. and it pains him.

next time he travels he’ll insist on bringing you with him. he doesn’t want you to suffer through it anymore.

kaiser waits another ten agonizing minutes before your text notification goes off and he’s fumbling with his phone, trying to unlock it as fast as possible. he curses under his breath when he almost drops it and clings to it with both hands for extra security.

he’s glad he chose to go with the makeshift disguise, because he’s not sure if he’d ever live it down from you or his team if someone were to catch him in this state of desperation and post it.

(although you’ll probably laugh and call him a dork regardless of a post when you realize just how excited he is to see you. he’s counting on it, actually.)

plane landed, heading to baggage now :))

he breathes a sigh of relief and quickly lets you know where he's waiting.

how many times has he been to this airport? it must be somewhere in the thousands by now. how pathetic is it that he can't go find you without risking getting lost? he makes another mental note about learning the general layout in case this ever happens again.

knowing that you're safe and in the same building fills him with more unbearable anticipation. just as he's decided he's had enough and gets up to look at the signs that will lead him to you, he catches sight of your familiar figure and bright luggage.

your eyes meet his and you both break into wide smiles, but as you examine him and walk over, faux confusion takes over your features. he narrows his eyes suspiciously, knowing you're up to something.

"excuse me, sir," you say. "could you help me find someone?"

kaiser sighs, playing along with your antics. "no promis-"

"he's tall, has blonde hair with blue dyed tips," you cut him off, mischievous intentions clear as day to him. "kind of handsome?"

he rolls his eyes affectionately. "sorry, I don't thi- kind of handsome?"

you burst into laughter at his incredulous expression, unable to keep the act up.

"liebling, I think you mean extremely handsome, hm?"

you shake your head. "nah, not really."

he glares at you and squishes your cheeks together between his palms. "nimm das zurück!" his tone is playful, so you feel confident enough to stick your tongue out at him.

you pry his hands away from your face and happily let him wrap them around your waist. "du bist so leicht zu necken, michael," you card your fingers through his hair and he hums.

"missed you," he admits, finally feeling at peace.

"I missed you too, schatz. can we go home now? I'm jetlagged and in need of affection I don't feel comfortable displaying in an airport."

he nuzzles his nose against your hairline and presses a quick kiss there before resting his cheek on your head. "I'm already home, süße."

he doesn't see the tears welling in your eyes, but he knows you're touched by his words from the way you pull him closer and hold him tighter.

turns out you’re already home too.

translations:

nimm das zurück! - take that back!

du bist so leicht zu necken, michael - you're so easy to tease, michael.

süße - sweetness/sweet thing

liebling, schatz - dear, treasure

thank you @dira333 for checking the translations over for me <3

considering I haven't fully read the manga, it goes without saying that if he seems slightly out of character, that's why lol

hope you enjoyed!!

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie living together in their first apartment in LA. Its the 90’s its a heatwave in the 100’s everyday. The power grid is overwhelmed so the city has resorted to rolling blackouts.

It was Friday which meant it was their neighbourhood tonight. After work Steve stopped at the store and got beer, candles, and pizza to prepare for the night. He was meeting Eddie at home and they would have an hour before the lights were out.

“Hey baby I’m home.” Steve called as he slammed the door shut behind him.

“God its hot as balls Stevie.” Eddie yelled back dramatically from the kitchen. He made his way over and draped himself against the doorframe as he watched Steve kick his shoes off with a huff, his arms full of groceries.

“Oh hi Stevie love of my life who got me booze and dinner, how was your day? Oh sure of course i’ll help you,” Steve mumbled to himself giving Eddie a side eye and a hip bump as he made his way into the kitchen with the groceries.

Eddie followed closely behind him pulling him in close despite the heat and sweat on both of them, “Hello Sweetheart how are you? I love you. Thank you for the groceries.” He mumbled into the back of Steve’s sweaty neck.

Steve broke easily, turning around into Eddie’s grip after only an eye-roll. He leaned in and accepted his expected kiss unable to stop the smile that spread across his lips. “Your hair is cute.” He said as he pulled back resting against the counter.

“Why thank you hair professional Stevie darling.” Eddie batted his eyelashes and twirled a stray curl that had fallen out of the messy bun on his head.

Steve scoffed and pushed a hand against his face breaking free of his hold and going back to unloading groceries. “We should have a cold shower before we loose power. Then I was thinking we could go on the roof and look at the stars later.” He said it casually but Eddie saw the way Steve’s eyes nervously looked back at him over his shoulder.

“That sounds perfect, we can even bring the portable radio up with us I just stole new batteries from the store.” Eddie gravitated back into Steve’s space. “And Claudia just sent us that outdoor blanket she made.” His fingers danced up and down Steve’s waist.

“How romantic of you.” Steve teased, trying to squirm away when Eddie pinched his hip.

“You pretend to hate it but I know you are a hopeless romantic lover boy Stevie.” Eddie’s hand slid forward and pushed Steve’s hips back against his own. “I’ll always give you what you want though, because I love you so much.”

Steve was speechless at the sincerity of Eddie’s words. He instead turned around and kissed Eddie in a way he hoped showed how much he loved him.

After they parted ways, Eddie took over in the kitchen to put away groceries and assemble their meal while Steve showered first. Once finished he decided to set up outside, dragging out the aforementioned outdoor blankets, portable radio and of course food. Once all was said and done he checked his watch: 7 minutes until the power cut. He listened and heard Steve humming to himself in the bathroom, so he lit a path of candles to the roof because he was romantic like that.

“Hello Romeo” Steve greeted him on the roof, 10 minutes later beers in hand. The cool bottles were already dripping from the heat, Steve wiped the excess water on the back of his neck.

“Hello sweet steviette, you look so beautiful under this warm eve’s moonlight.” Eddie crooned back, draping himself out dramatically and reaching a hand to Steve. He smiled at his boyfriend’s eye-roll and took the beers from his hands.

“Thank you nerd,” Steve said with an edge of sweetness to his voice, still leaning over into Eddie’s space for a quick peck,

They ate after that, both ravenous after their long days at work. It was a comfortable silence they sat in, so close their thighs touched. Eddie silently handed his crusts over to Steve and and Steve popped the top off another beer for him. And when they finished they lay together on their backs, hands intertwined as they looked at the stars.

“I love you, you know that right?” It was Steve who broke their silence first.

Eddie rolled onto his side, keeping Steve’s hand in his. “Of course I do.” He pulled it to him, placing a gentle kiss on Steve’d knuckles.

Steve turned his head to face Eddie, “Okay good, just making sure.” He smiled but Eddie could see the edges of worry in his eyes.

“Come here.” He tugged Steve over and into his arms despite the heat and the sweat covering both of them. “I love you and I know you love me back baby, forever and always,”

“Forever and always,” Steve agreed as he and Eddie both leaned into each other’s space until their lips were touching and a silly make-out began.

Eddie rolled on top of Steve attacking his face with kiss after kiss, on his cheeks, forehead, the bridge of his nose, his eyelids, and finally his lips. Steve deepened the kiss immediately hands gripping Eddie’s shoulders so insistently Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle against Steve’s lips.

“What?” Steve pulled back but only enough to ask.

“You loooove me,” Eddie dissolved into a fit of laughter, clinging to Steve and hiding his face in his shoulder as Steve laughed and tried to shove him off.

“Oh fuck off.”

[thatsdemko]

a sleepless night in monaco - c.leclerc

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: Charles leclerc x reader

warnings: just fluff(lmk if I’m missing anything!)

a/n: I’m sure this has been done somewhere along the lines but I didn’t dig deep enough into the ‘f1 imagines’ tag so I apologize! 😅 also feedback is appreciated if you have any🫶 cheers!

tossing and turning, irritation grew that you couldn’t drift into a deep sleep. the cool breeze from outside was blowing the makeshift curtains, that attempted to cover up the night life of monaco into your apartment.

your boyfriend, Charles, was sound asleep beside you. the light snoring escaping his mouth every so often made you smile, but also envious of his slumber. you watched his bare chest rise and fall during each breath, desperately wanting his body against yours, but there was no way of doing so without waking him up.

you let out a soft sigh removing the covers from your body deciding to take yourself somewhere else in order to not wake up Charles. you grabbed your phone off your nightstand, and headed into the living room making sure each step was carefully thought out to not wake up your sleeping boyfriend. but of course, he felt the mattress lighten causing him to stir awake reaching for you, to find you weren’t there.

he got himself out of bed now to go find you. he couldn’t think of a reason why you weren’t in bed with him. there was no argument or night shifts this week, so he couldn’t put a finger to why you were in the living room cozied up under the blankets channel surfing.

“come back to bed.” you heard the groggy soft scratched voice of your boyfriend, coming to the living room to try and take you back to bed with him.

“I can’t sleep, Charles. you have training early in the morning, go back to sleep.” you tried to push him away, but he kept pulling your arm to join him.

“baby, I can’t sleep without you.” he groaned pressing kisses to your hands in hopes of giving you some persuasion to join him. he wasn’t thinking straight after having been awoken from his deep sleep, but he knew with you out here, he couldn’t sleep.

“you’ve been sleeping without me for two nights, Charles. I haven’t been able to sleep.” it was true, you weren’t sure what was getting to you but it was now a third night with no sleep.

“how about I make you some tea? that might help.” before you could answer, he was moving into the kitchen to grab a kettle and adding water. you watched his back muscles flex reaching the top shelf where the tea bag’s sat.

“chamomile or peppermint?”

“you pick.” you yawned snuggling into the couch cushions while a rerun of an early 90s show flickered onto the screen of the television.

he walks away from the kitchen allowing the water in the kettle to boil, and it’s not long before he returns with two sweatshirts. one for him and one for you. he quickly tosses you one hearing the kettle scream, he grabs a mug and a tea bag beginning to make your tea just the walk you like it.

approaching you with the hot liquid contents he hands you the mug carefully, “this has sugar in it?” you ask taking a sip of the bitter chamomile tea.

“no sugar, it’ll keep you awake.” he replies settling down next to you on the couch, tugging some blanket into his lap. you don’t know what you did to deserve him to sacrifice his sleep for you, but you knew you would have to repay him.

“thank you, I owe you.”

he shrugs it off like it was nothing, because truth be told, he would do anything for you. you could be dying and he would retire from his race, that he was winning, just for you. that being said, making you a cup of tea and staying awake until you fell asleep, was not a big deal.

“it’s not a big deal.” he pressed his lips to your cheek watching you yawn and attempt to set the mug down on the coaster, he grabs it for you completing the action.

“now I’m sleepy, should we go back to bed?” you pulling the blanket off his lap draping it around your shoulders, your eyes fighting with sleep now.

“well now I’m awake.” he jokes grabbing the remote to turn off the television and your cup of tea for bed.

“come on, let’s sleep.”

[alpydk]

I know you've been back and forth about Gale smut, but can I maybe request angsty smut?

Gale 100% sure he's gonna use the orb at the endgame, but fooling Tav into thinking he had been convinced. The night before the last battle, Tav thinking it might be their last night but Gale *knowing* it is.

Hello anon. Thank you for this prompt. I'll admit, it's been a challenge and I'll admit this is more like 90% angst and 10% maybe smut... You'll see what I mean.

Lose you

Word Count - 1221 words - C/W Angst, death, last night.

‘Cause I’m gonna lose ya Yes, I’m gonna lose ya If I’m gonna lose ya I’ll lose you now for good

Gale loved Tav more than he ever thought was possible. He loved how she looked at the world, eyes bright and optimistic, how she saw the good in everyone she met. Everyone could be redeemed of the mistakes they had made at some point in their lives, whether it be Kethric cursed for giving everything for another, Astarion’s tactful advances learnt from a life of pain, whether it was Gale himself and the greatest of all folles.

But what are forgiveness and redemption with no sacrifice? Kethric had ended up dead, Astarion still a spawn living off woodland animals. Gale had sacrificed nothing, at least nothing he could see. A year in solitude was but the consequence of my actions, not a sacrifice. The crown was a distant pipedream that even if he reforged, he could not wield. Unworthy of wielding. No, fate had dictated long ago what his sacrifice would be, and even with Tav’s compelling words and Elminster’s belief that destiny could be manipulated, Gale did not see it for himself. He knew what he had to do. He’d known since that very first day with the book.

“You think too much.”

Tav was right. In recent weeks he had been thinking too much: of life, death, of Gods and planes, and the pain. Will I be given a place at Mystra’s side, or will I walk the Fugue Plane without relief until I'm met with Kelemvor’s judgement? When the end comes, will it be but an instant of burning nerves as I’ve experienced in recent months, a candle snuffed out without hesitation? Or will it be the dull ache of the orb’s pressure building within my ribs, the seconds stretching for eternity as each molecule of my existence is torn apart piece by piece? Gale chuckled at her words; thoughts abandoned. “Maybe, but to think too much, my love, should never be a cause for concern.”

Sitting beside him, she took his hand in her soft palm. She had seen his scrawled letters, words of farewell, of a future he wouldn’t be a part of, and it pained her to think he could even consider leaving them, leaving her. “It is when I know what your mind often travels to.”

 “And what might my mind be travelling to right now?”

To look upon your eyes, your hair, your skin. To see each curve of your body under the dawn’s light. To touch you. To hear your breathing as you sleep. To make you laugh. To make you cry. To love you and no other. To lose you.

She smirked at his words, the playfulness in his tone not going unmissed. Maybe the letters had been written during darker moments, ones before their night at Moonrise. He’d told her he was grateful for meeting her, told her he loved her. He’d invited her to Waterdeep to meet his family. The future was there and maybe it was her who was overthinking things. “I could think of one or two things.” Tav slipped her hand from his, bringing it to the trailing weave of the orb upon his chest. For so many nights she had placed heated kisses along the darkened lines, felt the rise and fall of his chest with each heightened emotion, made him forget his goddess. And for a thousand more nights to follow, Tav would do the same.  

“Maybe a demonstration is in order, hm?” Gale leant back, watching the way her hair tumbled down above him as she positioned herself. He felt the way her fingertips traced along his chest, his robe removed and abandoned. The tender touch of her lips upon his, the scent of wine on her breath. How he longed to change fate. To hold you close on stormy nights. To see you smile as you taste my cooking. To dance with you. To hear you read poetry in the dim light of my study. To feel your head on my shoulder as we watch the sunset. To love you. To lose you.

Her dress was gone, the candlelight letting shadows dance upon her flesh. She looked at him in the same way she saw the world. He could be forgiven, redeemed. In her eyes, he already was, and she wanted to show him that.

Wishing he could tell her the truth; he buried his face in the crook of her neck. The scent of poppies hung in her hair, and he tried to memorise it. He tried to remember each minute detail of her form: the shade of her hair under the light, the flush of her cheeks as she gave into the tides consuming her, the quiet moan as he stroked her body with the soft pad of his thumb. If only they could stay in that one moment, an eternity with Tav as his goddess, the stars their followers, each whisper from his lips a new prayer devoted to her. If only...

“Tav... If something untoward, shall we say, were to happen to me-”

She gazed down at him, the slow rhythmic movements of her hips coming to a hesitant halt upon hearing his words. “Don’t talk like that.”

“I merely need assurance,” Gale replied, an unwilling sliver of emotion escaping him. Please tell me you will find someone else. You will fall in love and smile at them as you smile at me. Tell me you will not need me.  

“You’re not going anywhere.” Tav was so sure of her words. They would fight the Netherbrain and all of them would survive. They would not sacrifice anyone. They were not pieces on a lanceboard to be thrown away at the whims of the gods. They, he was more than that.

“How can you be so sure?”

He felt the slow roll of her hips, the warmth of her body as she grew closer to him. Wrapping his arms around her, Gale held her tightly. He would not let go of her, would not let go of this moment, of their last night together. He would remember every gasp, every whine, every bead of sweat that merged with the salted tears that pricked at his eyes. When the time comes, I want the last thing I see to be you. To see you as you are now. To feel you as you are now. To not lose you.

 “Because I love you,” she moaned softly, her eyes closing with the building heat between them. She knew there was always a chance something could go wrong, but those doubts had no place in their world right now. There was only the love she could show him, the meaning in living.

“I love you too.”

What else could he say that night before his sacrifice was made? Their last night could not be one of pain and sadness. It had to be spent in the way it was, with heated kisses and stars of their own creation. It had to be the last memory they shared, one that would smother out the darkness to follow, one that he could picture as the conjured dagger pierced his heart. To hear your voice. To see you smile. To love you. To lose you.

[kachowden]

I am already in love with the pink lemonade cowboy 🥰😍

Vampire!Cowboy! Yandere x GN! Reader

——————-(<3)—————

A/n: I do not condone yandere behavior, this is purely fictional. This will be a short series. If you want to see what our yandere looks like you can see him here <3 also this technically isn’t a slow burn but the juicy stuff will show up in part 2

Part 1

——————————————————-

The rain thudded dully against the roof of your old rusty car. Your windshield wipers squeaked across your windows, flinging off thin sheets of water that blurred the dark road in front of you. Puddles reflected in your single headlight.

You’re grandfather was a cruel man.

As sweet as honey, you loved your grandfather dearly. He was always especially generous on the holidays.

But he was cruel. Because while he was on his “retirement vacation”, he left his massive farm in your care.

You! The grandchild who hadn’t done a lick of farm work in their entire life! Hell the closest thing to a farm you’d ever been to was a petting zoo when you were- what 6??

How were you expected to do anything remotely useful! In fact you were 90% sure that these crops and animals would be dead and gone within a week under your care.

But ohoho! Lucky you! You grandfather has a helper on the farm! A complete Fucking stranger who you’d never met before was going to be sharing a house with you for the next 6 weeks! Thank you grandpa! Love you SOO much!

You did love him. But you were irritated and you felt like you had a right to be so! He dropped this bombshell on you, not even asking if you had any plans!

Which you didn’t but that wasn’t the point!

Plans could’ve popped up at any moment!

With a very stressed sigh you pulled your beaten up car into the drive way of the rustic red farm house. Your engine wheezed with exhaust as your wheels rolled to a bumpy stop on the wet pavement. It took about 5 hours to drive to where your grandpa lived. Which meant you couldn’t just stay at your house and visit everyday to water the animals and feed the crops or whatever.

You physically had to stay here.

I mean it was a paid vacation but come on! You’d rather be working at the café than on a farm! At least you knew what you were doing there!

You let your head fall softly against the steering wheel, sighing again at your circumstances.

“Whatever. No use in complaining now.”

“Probably not kid.”

“Holy Sh-!”

The violent sound of your car horn scattered birds and animals for miles. Though there were few to begin with in this dreary weather. The stranger who had peered through your open window winced, covering his ears with a snarl.

“Oh shit- i am so sorry you just- actually- no what the fuck you scared the shit out of me!”

Typically you weren’t one to point fingers but you were in a particularly bad mood today so you felt that it was justified. Plus he did scare you!

The strangers lips twisted into a grimace, and you felt your body sending various warning signals when his turquoise irises narrowed down on your figure. Jeez this dude had a judgmental stare. You prayed this guy wasn’t your grandfathers “help”.

The mystery man clicked his tongue. “You the old mans grandkid?”

Fuck

You glared deeply at the totally not gorgeous cowboy, “..and I suppose you’re his “helper”?”

The stranger didn’t seem to take very kindly to your attitude, what with the way he leaned his head a little further into your car window to stare you down.

You had half the nerve to try and close it on him but the dumb thing was a window crank and you wouldn’t have gotten it up in time anyway.

“The names Micah. Your pops calls me Mickey. It’s either Micah or Mic to you, kid.”

Asshole!

“I’m pretty sure we’re the same age Mickey.”

He didn’t respond to that, merely pulling himself out of the car with a deep exhale.

He backed up slightly from the vehicle, you assumed to wait for you to get out, but when he lifted his boot up you got a little more worried

“Hey what’re you-“

With a sharp kick, Mickey smashed his boot into the lower side of your car door causing it to shoot open like a spring lock. Aka causing you to flop out onto your ass with a loud cuss.

Crying out you scowled deeply at the cowboy who didn’t even bother to send you a snarky look in return.

You could feel the water drizzling through your hair and clothes.

Looking painfully disinterested, the redhead(?) began walking away from your slowly soaking form. Leaving you to bring in your luggage. In the rain.

“I thought cowboys were supposed to be friendly or something..” you growled somewhat pitifully into the empty cold rain.

Glancing down at your wet knees you sighed, beginning to pick yourself off the ground, in hopes to spare a little of your own dignity.

Though it was for not when you felt your non grippy shoes slide against a stray patch of mud.

You didn’t have time to do much more than gasp when you felt yourself fall forward, only to land into a surprisingly secure and- kinda cold, set of arms.

Your breathed deeply for a moment, pulling back to stare at Mickey, who’s own eyes peered down at you from the brim of his now spotted hat.

You didn’t want to acknowledge the size of his forearms, or how you could feel practically everything under that flimsy wife beater he wore despite the weather.

You swore you heard him mumble something along the lines of “city folk”, but you became too distracted when noticing the purple spotted umbrella that now shade the two of you from the rain.

“Oh..”

You think you finally saw a small smile on the cowboys lips.

“Still thinkin I ain’t nice?”

You flushed, mostly in embarrassment at the fact that he heard you.

“Ah dip, you heard that?”

His laugh was fucking hot dude.

“You’d be surprised on how much I can hear, Kid.”

“Creepy but okay.”

Mickey laughed again though a bit shorter this time before propping you back up. You swore you heard a deep inhale, but you weren’t sure due to the sound of rain pelting the umbrella and car.

“Why don’t you head inside. I’ll grab your luggage.”

“Oh no, I can take care of it-“

The man glared at you, though you felt it was considerably less hostile than it had been originally.

“Just get in or else the foods gon’ get cold.”

Food?

“Say less!”

You had half a mind to be embarrassed when Mickey laughed at the sight of you practically skipping up to the porch and through the rustic door.

—————————————-

There was a loud and aggressive knocking at your door.

You decided being cruel was a country thing.

Because while Mickey had been sweet enough to make you dinner last night and breakfast this morning, he also rudely woke you up at the ass crack of dawn and kicked you out into the field to help with the chores.

Now mind you, typically you were a morning person! A go-getter of sorts! But the sun wasn’t even awake yet! So why were you out here picking peas, tomatoes, squash, peppers and so on, when you could be sleeping peacefully, cozied up in the slightly itchy and heavy wool sheets of your guest bed! Something about “the morning dew” apparently.

You weren’t even sure how Mic got in your room after you didn’t respond, seeing as you were once again, 90% sure you locked the door. Then again, the food he made practically sent you into a coma once you were done.

You weren’t sure if it was coincidence or not, but Micah had made all your favorite foods that evening. You wanted to assume your pa had told him, but you didn’t believe for a second that, that rude cowboy would go out of his way to make your favorite foods for you.

Especially considering he didn’t eat any of it.

All he had was this weird cup of, what you could only assume was wine or cranberry juice and a few pieces of a steak he popped in the oven.

This guy was weird.

“Hey kid! You done pickin or are your city hands to sensitive to finish the job?”

Speak of the bastard and he will come! Unfuckenfortunately

Your scowl was probably noticeable from a mile away, and especially from where the tall country man stood, given his smug grin as he walked over to examine your work.

He whistled mockingly, freaky blue-green eyes scanning your baskets.

“Not bad, for city folk anyway. But here.-“ crouching down in front of you the, ginger(?) reached his rough hands out and softly pulled the baskets from your arms.

“You wanna keep your herbs separated from each other. Some of them are harder to tell from others and you don’t wanna go mixin them up.”

You watched quietly, mostly in your own mental brooding, as he carefully separated the different herbs and spices from each other. His hands were large, but you noticed how precise he seemed to be. He had to have been working here quite sometime, cuz you couldn’t tell much of a difference between half of the things he was organizing.

“There we go.” His voice was soft this morning. Blending in with the sound of the faint winds, and the after rain dripping from the gutters and into the soil. It was still too early for the birds to be chirping. The sun still had yet to rise but the stars gave just enough light to see the gentle gaze the farm boy had set on you.

This moment of silence was odd for you. Especially given the two of you bickering since your arrival yesterday. This guy before you made no sense. Like a switch, he was harsh and snappy, and then gentle and calm. Caring almost. At times he almost acted like he’d known you for years. Though that seemed to mostly happen when he was doing something around the farm.

Caught up in your own thoughts, you missed the way Mickeys eyes were burning into you. They moved languidly over your figure, taking in your attire, dressed more warmly for the morning chill. Nearly every part of you was covered.

Except your neck. You had forgotten to pack a scarf apparently.

The pale man’s jaw clenched tightly, his shoulders tensing before he scowled and stood up, interrupting the once peaceful atmosphere.

“Get up. We still have work to do.”

His tone was cold and biting like the morning. Your breath came out in foggy puffs. But his didn’t. At least you couldn’t see it from where you were.

You watched with furrowed brows knit confusion as the cowboys boots carried him into the farmhouse, right as the first rays of the sun stretched over the country side and bled into the fields.

What was his deal?

For the rest of the day, Mickey seemed to be adamant about being as big of a thorn in your side as possible. Barking at you to hurry up. Scowling at you when you slipped or did something even slightly wrong.

Perfectionist asshole.

He also seemed to be avoiding looking at you.

At least directly. Every time you turned to yell at him, or glare, his back was always turned or his head was to the side, seeming adamant on not meeting your eyes.

Moody much?

The only time he did look at you was when he thought you weren’t looking. ‘Specially when you were moving heavy objects and you had to take off your jacket so you wouldn’t drown in your own sweat.

To some extent you prided your self on your work. You weren’t lazy by any means, and actually considered yourself a fairly hard worker, if the muscles of your forearms were any indication. You weren’t ripped. But it was something right?

You assumed that Mic agreed, though granted he could’ve just been comparing yours to his own massive forearms. But with the way his eyes were trailing all over you and zoning in on your barren arms and shoulders, You were almost flattered!

Almost. If the same guy who was checking you out wasn’t also being bloody ruthless with the chores. You got a few scrapes and bruises by that time noon, and you practically fell into the rickety kitchen dining chairs.

“Holy fucking shit I’ve never moved that much in my entire life..” a pain groaned poured from your lips as your aching muscles strained with your body heaving itself upwards.

Mickey let out a soft scoff at the sound, though still considerably gentler than he had been all morning, as he placed a very aesthetic sand-which In front of you.

Your stomach growled particularly loud at the sight, and with new found energy you picked up the scrumptious food with a grateful thanks and began eating.

Mickey, once again, without a lunch of his own opted to watch you openly instead. His belt buckle jeans pressed into the kitchen counter top, muscular arms propping himself up against it.

He watched quietly, and you would’ve been freaked out if you weren’t so damn tired.

“There’s still more to do. We haven’t gotten to the animals yet. And the roof on the barn needs leak repairs.”

You choked.

Hacking violently you smacked your chest before unlodging the piece of fresh bread from your throat.

Gulping water quickly you exhaled and turned to look at the cowboy in what you hoped was a glare, but was more accurately a very pathetic frown.

“I-!” You opened your mouth to argue before closing it softly with a tired sigh.

You’d complained enough today.

Mickey had been doing this kind of work for who knows how long, and he was going out of his way to accommodate your pace, though not by much, and was even making you food. It felt rude to comparing at this point.

You just hoped that if you died from exhaustion Mickey wouldn’t use your body as fertilizer.

So with a resigned groan you sat up after finishing your delicious sandwich. “..Yeah, okay.” You mumbled, getting ready to move to the trash can and toss out the crumbs and paper, but a large pale hand forced you back into your seat, without much pressure given how tired your body already was.

You gazed at Mickey curiously.

The tall cowboy looked down at you firmly, his expression odd as he scanned your bruises and sweaty face. Sighing completely inaudibly before reaching into his back pocket and placing a tube of some kind of muscle cream and a pack of wraps.

“Go upstairs and run yourself a warm bath. You stink and the water will help relax your muscles so they wont hurt as much tomorrow. You can spend the rest of the day doing whatever you need to do, but I expect you down here and out at the gate by 5 to bring in the cattle. Got it?”

You were stunned. The smile that worked its way on your face seemed to embarrass the farmer slightly as he turned away from you with folded arms and a grumpy frown.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m only letting you off because at this point you’ll slow me down more than anything. I don’t need a clumsy city kid messing up my work.”

You chose to ignore the bastards insults in favor of gently placing your arm on his lower bicep.

“Thanks Mic.”

You missed the deep inhale and weird glow of the cowboys eyes that followed you up the stairs and into your bedroom.

“…..”

It was good to see you hadn’t changed much.

[endless-summer-soldier]

cruel to be kind - chapter three

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (90s college AU)

summary: it started with a dare. Bucky restlessly pursues Y/N, seeking just one date. as he chases her, he realizes she's different from she challenges him, so he starts to catch feelings. but it all falls apart when she learns about his initial motivations. based on 10 things I hate about you!

warnings: alcohol use, cursing

word count: 1k

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Y/N woke up and let out a long groan. Her head was pounding and blurred visions from the night before slowly entered her brain. Then suddenly she realized she was parched. Water. She needed water. She crawled out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen. Her water bottle was about halfway full when her roommate, Carol, entered the room, back from a morning run.

“Well you look like shit,” she said.

“Feel like shit,” Y/N added.

“What exactly did you get up to last night?” Carol stretched in the living room as Y/N chugged down her water.

“Went out with some asshole. It was a mistake.”

“Oh come on, he couldn’t have been that bad. He got you home.”

“He got me drunk, I made a fool of myself, and then he rejected me.”

“Oh you left out the part about maybe having a concussion.”

“Ugh…don’t remind me about that.” She drank more water and then the realization hit her “Wait, how…?”

Carol smirked, “The ‘asshole’ left this under my door,” she held up a small handwritten note, “Wanted me to keep an eye on you and make sure you were okay.”

Y/N had no response to that. She enjoyed her disdain for Bucky. She didn’t need to go around catching feelings just because he did something sweet. Y/N grumbled and retreated to her room as Carol watched her with a knowing look.

Bucky woke up the next morning and his first thought was about Y/N. He hated to admit it, but he was worried about her. And he knew he had his work cut out for him since he had bruised her ego the night before.

So he put himself together and headed to her apartment. He stopped to pick up a couple coffees, hoping to bribe her into liking him again.

He softly knocked in rhythm on her door and heard shuffling from the other side. He could almost sense her looking through the peephole eyeing him up.

“Go away,” she said firmly.

“I brought coffee,” he retorted.

“Oh, well in that case, leave the coffee and go away.”

“Come on Y/N…”

“I made myself perfectly clear. Leave.”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Why do you care?”

He sighed and let out a chuckle, “Because I like you!”

There was a long pause before she said, “Well, I don’t like you.”

“That’s the best you could come up with? Damn, you must be really hung over.”

“I’m walking away from the door now,” she said.

He chuckled at her stubbornness, but respected her commitment. He scrawled a quick note on the coffee cup that read Call me once you’re feeling better with his phone number.

He sauntered off, knowing it wouldn’t be that easy. He started considering his next few moves.

He wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t heard from her in a few days. In fact, he anticipated that. So he moved on to phase two.

He approached her front door and knocked, this time hiding from view of the peephole. He heard the lock switching and knew he was in. As soon as the door was open he barged in, taking Y/N by surprise.

Before she could say anything he started unloading the stocked grocery bag. 

“I have everything you could possibly need. Gatorade, ginger ale, homemade chicken noodle soup, saltines, lemon ginger tea…” He pulled out each of the items as they were announced and placed them on her kitchen counter.

“Bucky…what the fuck?”

He looked at her with raised eyebrows encouraging her to continue.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Well you never called me. So you must still be very sick and I thought ‘Hm, if I were really sick, I’d want someone to come over and take care of me.’ So here I am with all the best remedies.”

She was so close to smiling but she kept her composure and responded. “I’m not sick you asshole. I just didn’t want to talk to you.”

“Now that cannot possibly be true. We had such a lovely time together on our date.”

“It wasn’t a date.”

“Whatever you say sweetheart. Just remember I was the perfect gentleman. I picked you up, I walked you home, and I didn’t take advantage of you in your vulnerable state.” He hoped the last part of his statement would help her understand why he declined her advances that night.

“What a shame, I don’t remember any of it.”

“I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it then. Oh, did I mention that you agreed to go out with me again?”

“Liar,” she joked.

“Can’t blame me for trying.”

She shook her head, “You can leave now.”

“If you insist,” he said. He didn’t move, hoping she would reconsider.

“I do,” she opened the front door wide and signaled for him to make his way through it.

“I have to say Y/N, you are really good at this whole hard to get thing.” He made his way through the door and turned to face her, shooting her his winning smile.

“Bye,” she said as she shut the door in his face.

“I’ll see you later!” he shouted through the door.

Bucky continued to pursue Y/N for the days that followed. He tried out a few different tactics but most of them involved buying her coffee or walking her to class. Her defenses came down a bit, but she still declined any date suggestions Bucky threw out there.

“What’s your endgame here?” she asked him at one point.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you doing all this?”

“Because I have never met a girl as interesting as you. And I want to spend time with you and get to know you better.”

She rolled her eyes, “I bet you tell all the girls that.”

“Not a chance.”

“Hate to break it to you but sweet talk doesn’t work on me.”

That was the moment he realized he needed to step things up so he began planning. His friends were constantly telling him to give up, that the dare wasn’t worth all this effort. But it wasn’t about that anymore. Bucky had never struggled when it came to women. Usually his tough exterior and ocean blue eyes were enough to do the trick. Y/N was so different from any other girl and the challenge was a great motivator. He wanted to know what made her tick.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

For your newest make me write. Im in a huge complete supernatural/fantasy like AU mood here recently so my requests are going to be towards that this week. Also both of them are supposed to be 15 emojis apiece so can we pretend they are if they are not? (Kinda sorry about all the zombies…but feel free to sub everything to vampires or another WIP if you want)

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟(Im so ready for the Maddie/Buck reunion and ensuing shenanigans. I think by the time you get to to this that the new chapter *may* be out that goes over that. But im also enjoying other aspects of the story as well. I very rarely read bathena start fics so their relationship developing is exciting for me to see as well).

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸 🩸(Spoilery for those not caught up BUT OMG BUCK WHAT DID YOU DO?!?! I was not ready for that!)

Woohoo 90 total sentences for monster fics!

45 for 🧟 (THANK YOU!!!):

---

 “Just… Be careful.”

Chim thinks he probably should listen to her. But he also knows he likely won’t. 

▪️▪️▪️

If anything, Chim gets worse. And that might be problematic if his feelings were one-sided, but after dinner, it becomes more or less obvious that they are not.

They do dishes together. A chore Chim usually finds tiresome, but now is somehow fun. Christopher and Denny have already begged Maddie, Hen, and Karen to have a sleepover together. Something Chim finds somewhat redundant, seeing as every day forever is a sleepover here. But Chris wants to sleep in Denny’s room. 

“Please,” Karen had insisted when Maddie had asked if they were sure it was okay. “He finally gets to have friends his own age. Chris can have as many sleepovers as he wants.”

So Maddie is off kid duty tonight. 

“Other than movie night,” she asks as they’re finishing up with dishes. “What is there to do around here in the evenings?”

“You got something against movie night?” Chim teases.

“No!” Maddie insists. “Just exploring my options.”

“Well, there are games,” Chim says. But then he has another thought. “Or the roof.”

“The roof?” Maddie asks. 

“Yeah. We’ve got chairs up there. We can steal your brother’s stereo. It’s great for looking at the stars. Now that the light pollution is gone.” 

Chim wonders if this is too weird. Too forward. Too intimate. Too much like a date, if the world was normal enough to afford dates. Actually, scratch that. He knows Hen has set up a date for Karen up there, under the stars. On their wedding anniversary. God, what is he doing?

“That sounds really nice,” Maddie says. “Would you… Would you want to do that with me?”

God, obviously.

“I’d like that, yeah.”

---

45 for 🩸 (Buck's gonna Buck!)

---

“Neither am I,” Eddie says. “Okay?”

Buck nods, still a little weepy. 

“Okay.”

💧💧💧

As tired as he is, Buck can’t really sleep for very long periods. A wound to his front and a wound to his back means nothing is comfortable. Eddie helps set him up on an assortment of pillows to prop him in just the right position, but it’s still a more or less futile effort. He manages to get a little bit of rest when his pain medication sets in, but otherwise, he’s awake and uncomfortable. 

Brought down to reality by his conversation, Buck really gets a chance to think through what he’d nearly done. Not the killing part - which he’d been more focused on before - but the dying part. And the more he thinks about it, the more he thinks about just how right Eddie was. He doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want their life together to be over just as it finally started.

He really let that compulsive need to fix everything almost get him killed. Maddie was right. He needs to deal with this properly. This pit of dread that lives in his chest that says he is going to lose everything horribly. That says life will never be safe again. He needs to address that head on, and not by trying to be one step ahead of every possible danger. He needs to go back to therapy. He will, he decides. The minute he’s physically up to it.

“I’m sorry,” Buck says again, later that night, when everyone is sleeping and Buck is laying awake beside Eddie. He knows he’s probably going to be saying it for a long time. 

Eddie blinks awake. “Hmm?”

“I’m sorry,” Buck repeats. 

“For waking me up?” 

“No, for everything.”

Eddie sighs. “I forgive you. I’ve already forgiven you.”

“But I’m still sorry.” 

“Buck,” Eddie complains. “Don’t do this. This doesn’t help. Believe me, I know.”

“I’m going to go to therapy,” Buck says. 

“That’s a good idea,” Eddie says. “We could both use therapy. Do you think there are vampire therapists?”

“If there’s not, there should be,” Buck replies. “They’d have the corner on the market right now.”

“Exactly,” Eddie says. “And surely some shrink out there got bit?”

[flowerbloom-arts]

Hey, sorry if I'm repetitive but what do you think happened to the humans in the Moomin universe.

Absolutely do not worry about asking too many questions, I love answering them!!!

Humans in Moominland is a very interesting subject... In that they're a LOT less of a presence than even I thought they were.

Alot of people (including me) thought that when, in Moomins and the Great Flood, Moominmamma was talking about Moomins living behind huge stoves before the invention of central heating she was talking about humans' stoves.

But no.

She never uses the word human, she says people.

(...) In those days they lived together with the house-trolls in people’s houses, mostly behind their tall stoves. “Some of us still live there now, I’m sure,” said Moominmamma. “But only where people still have stoves, I mean. We’re not happy with central heating.”

“Did the people know we were there?” asked Moomintroll.

(...)

“[A Hattifattener is] a kind of little troll-creature,” explained Moominmamma. “They’re mostly invisible. Sometimes they can be found under people’s floors, and you can hear them pattering about in there when it’s quiet in the evenings. (...)

And it's not like "people" was used as a specific term in Moomins and the Great Flood, either, because we have instances like these;

“Thank you so awfully much,” said Moominmamma. “You must have invited quite a lot of people up here for sea-pudding, I should think.”

“Oh yes,” said the boy. “People from every corner of the world. Snufkins, Sea-ghosts, Little Creeps and Big Folk, Snorks and Hemulens. And the odd angler fish, too.”

(...)

The armchair bobbed slowly along towards a hill where a lot of people were running about, pulling their belongings out of the water.

(...)

“Well, well,” said the marabou stork, who was beginning to feel touched. “I think I had better put you down on dry land and try to rescue a few more before the sun goes down. It’s very pleasant, rescuing people.” And then he took them back to the shore while they all talked at the same time about all the dreadful things they had been through. All along the shore people had lit fires at which they were warming themselves and cooking food, for most had lost their homes.

So it could be that Moominmamma was just talking about living behind regular creatures' oversized stoves, like how the Moomin ancestor did in Moominland Midwinter, which is honestly a very silly image. And it's not like it'd be impossible - the Hemulen and the Marabou stork in Great Flood are absolutely massive compared to our main characters.

Marabou storks tend to be about 5 feet tall so relatively speaking, if we assume this stork is still the same size as he would be irl, then our main characters would be relatively mouse-sized.

However. Tove didn't seem to have committed to this concept, and more or less just retconned it out of canon. Since the cats in Moomins and the Great Flood are seemingly regular-sized relative to the Hemulen's chair;

But in the 1968 revision of Comet in Moominland including future adaptations of the story, Sniff's cat is regular-sized, and so are the cats that appear in the Moomin comic strip, like the one in Moominmamma's Maid.

(sorry for using a screenshot from the 90s movie adaptation, I couldn't find a book illustration since I don't have a PDF of the revised book, much less an illustration of Sniff and his cat next to eachother, if that exists. If anyone has a way to read the revision in English pleeease give it to me)

But that's just Moomins and the Great Flood, which practically functions as a "pilot episode" for the whole franchise; it set up the concepts but is not representative of the rest of the franchise and has alot of things that get retconned but not entirely removed for the rest of the series, it wasn't even translated into/published in English until 2012. What about the rest of the franchise?

Well, the only instance of the word "human" being used in the books is in Moominpappa at Sea, while Moominpappa talked about how stone-faced the Fisherman/Lighthouse Keeper has been for the whole book;

‘There’s something wrong with you that I can’t make out,’ Moominpappa said to himself. ‘You’re not a human being at all. You’re more like a plant or a shadow, just as if you’d never been born.’

Which implies either of two things; the LHK is human or human-adjacent, or human is a normal adjective in the world of Moomin aswell.

And the only instance of the word "human" in the comic strip (there could be another instance I'm forgetting, however I'm not talking about Lars' comics because I am kind of prioritizing Tove's intentions here) is in a conversation between Snorkmaiden and Mymble Jr in Moomin Winter Follies;

Which... Kind of implies Mr. Brisk is human, I think? It's hard to imagine but there it is, the one instance of the word human in the comics.

And that's like... The only thing we really have within the original medium of Moomin.

But Tove had also worked on other things first-hand, and one of them had actual human characters.

That being Mumintrollet (1969, nice), a live-action show primarily known for the body horror of the Moomins removing their heads to reveal human heads inside. But with that obviously inapplicable facet of the show aside, we have this guy, the main antagonist, the King;

This guy is an explicitly canon human (can't be 100% sure since the show hasn't been transcribed or translated from its original swedish but I'm close to sure), and he's about the same size as the Moomins (probably because of the nature of the show, kinda like the whole head thing and Little My's normal human size in the show, but ehhh)

And that's, like, it for the canonicity of humans in Moomin, everything else is questionable or vague or a bit bewildering.

Like, is King Jones from Moominpappa's Memoirs a human? Why is he so big? What's going on here???

But that's all up to speculation, even the examples of the instances of the word human I've shown doesn't totally prove the existence of humans as we know them in this world. Alot of the characters look human but aren't, and others aren't stated to be not human, there are some oversized things like Muddler's tin that don't get explained, but who knows, really.

In short, I don't think anything has exactly happened to humans. They're either living among Moominland's society like fellow creatures (heck, maybe even some of the characters we know are human) or they're like... Rare or extinct or didn't even truly exist in the first place.

It's one big "who knows?".

[legobiwan]

Mario and Luigi for the drabble, “When I’m with you, I’m home.”

Thanks!

I realized I'm answering this one out of order. Whoops! Anyway, have some pre-Mushroom Kingdom conversations and lore-building as your author reminisces about the New York of the '90s.

~~~~~~

He wonders, sometimes, what their lives would have looked like if they had never left Brooklyn.

Barring a miracle - pretty bleak, in all honesty. Maybe being here, in the Mushroom Kingdom, was the miracle. He remembers the frenzied few days leading up to their disappearance. The previous few months had been a mess of unpaid bills and awful business decisions governed solely by spite and fear. They were probably a few months of missed rent payments away from eviction. They were definitely two days away from getting their kneecaps bashed in by some loan shark’s goons. 

He and Mario had gone for a walk, all the way down to Coney Island, 75th to Stillwell to Bowery, to the decrepit-looking Wonder Wheel and a depressingly empty Nathan’s Hot Dogs. It looked like the last of the hotels, some once-bright vestige of his mother’s era, had finally been condemned, tall wire fencing curling up towards the grey winter sky, a perfunctory guard which did nothing to keep out the local graffiti artists and homeless population. 

Luigi jammed his hands into his jean pockets, shivering. He couldn’t tell if he was freezing or terrified.

“What are we gonna do, Mario? We can’t stay here. If he doesn’t get us, the landlord will. You see how they’re starting to develop all that stuff around 86th Street. It’s going to travel north and we’re already behind two months in rent. We can’t stay in Bensonhurst.” Luigi sighed, little frozen puffs of air floating from his mouth. “I don’t even know if we can stay in Brooklyn at this rate.”

It was a miracle they weren’t out on the streets already. For once, their landlord’s habit of sitting around with a bottle of Thunderbird watching Honeymooners reruns and screaming at “that bum El Duque” to throw more strikes fell to their advantage. Sure, there was no such thing as maintenance in the dilapidated six-floor walk-up. But they were plumbers, tradesmen - a leaky faucet or misbehaving shower wasn’t going to be an issue.

Unfortunately, they weren’t also exterminators. 

Mario took a large bite of his hotdog, mustard splattering on the gum-stained sidewalk. It looked like something they’d hang in one of those trendy galleries that kept popping up in lower Manhattan, down around Houston Street. 

“We’re gonna be fine, Lou,” Mario said between bites, bits of bun falling from his mouth.

“We’re gonna end up homeless.” Or missing our kneecaps. Or worse.

Mario crammed the last of his dinner in his mouth, finishing off the hot dog with a few loud chews. He gave a contented sigh, licking at his greasy fingers before wiping his hands on his pants. “No, we’re not gonna be homeless. I’ve told you a million times, Lou, we could be in a cardboard box under the Van Wyck. When we’re together - “ Mario slung an arm around Luigi’s shoulder, pulling him in tight. “When I’m with you - I’m home. We’re unbeatable. And that means we’ll make it through this.”

Luigi eyed his brother’s yellow-tinged fingers and stained shirt cuff, hoping the impromptu moment of fraternal affection would pass. He could deal with Mario’s sunny optimism, usually. But living in a studio apartment one step up from a garbage dump had apparently encouraged his brother’s disposition towards a more slovenly existence. They might be home when they were together, but it wouldn’t hurt if Mario took a damn vacuum to himself once in a while. 

“Mario, I think this time - ”

“Oh, I get it.” The warm arm around his shoulder disappeared, his brother’s voice hardening. Luigi snapped his head to the side, his heart rocketing into his throat. What did I say this time?  

“It’s the location, isn’t it?” His brother gave him a searching, serious look. He looks just like Dad. He even seemed as if he were towering over Luigi, just like Dad used to, despite Mario being the shortest of the three of them. “You’d prefer a box under the BQE.”

Luigi gaped. “I - what?”

“Nah, nah, okay,” Mario waved his hands. “Let’s talk location. You wanna be by the Belt? Or maybe - “ A sly smile grew under his brother’s burgeoning mustache. “You want to move to Queens.”

“Oh my God,” Luigi groaned, slapping his forehead with his palm, pulling his hand down over his eyes. I’d move to Jersey if it got us out of this mess. “Mario, be serious.”

“I am serious! Your secret’s safe with me, bro. Even if you would betray Brooklyn like that." Luigi felt two steady hands take him by the biceps. “Besides, we’re gonna be okay.”

“Vinny Razzanti’s uncle said we had forty-eight hours,” Luigi groaned between his fingers.

Mario barked out a laugh. “Vinny Razzanti’s uncle couldn’t tell a pizza from a clock if we arranged the pepperonis the right way. The guy’s a dumbass.”

“Yeah, but he’s - “

“No, I ain’t hearing it.” Mario gently guided Luigi’s hands from his face, keeping his fingers wrapped around either wrist as he brought Luigi’s arms to his sides. “Look at me, Lou.”

Luigi swallowed down the wet desperation clawing its way up his throat, opening his eyes to his brother’s concerned, but steely gaze.

“If he comes, he comes. I’ve got a baseball bat next to the mattress and you can - “ Mario waved one of his arms in a broad gesture. “I dunno. Make some kind of exploding gadget or something. You used to want to show off your stuff to Cooper Union, right? Well, think of this as practice, you know, for the application.”

Luigi gave a small shake of his head. I don’t think home pyrotechnics meant to fend off low-level mafia muscle are going to impress the admissions committee. Not that they were going to waste their time with a twenty-one-year-old plumber’s application, anyway. That dream was long gone, buried in Cypress Hills along with their parents. 

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Mario’s voice broke through his dreary ruminations as he guided Luigi towards Bowery Street. “We’re gonna walk home, maybe pick up a cannoli on the way. Then we’re gonna check the answering machine. If we’re lucky - and I’m feeling pretty lucky right now - there will be a call from some lady in Borough Park.” His brother’s eyes gleamed. “No, even better, some widower in Carroll Gardens. One of those nice brownstones. She’s going to ask for our help. Clogged drains, backed up shower, toilet’s kablooey.” Mario made a slobbering sound meant to resemble a backed up toilet. Luigi thought he sounded like a dog on downers. “The whole shebang. We’ll say, of course, we can fix this, but we’ll have to charge the emergency rate. You know, business and all that. Three hours later - maybe four - boom! Vinny Razzanti’s uncle is out of the picture and we’ll be on our way to the good life.”

“You make it sound so simple, bro.” Luigi couldn’t quite contain the bite of sarcasm that accompanied that statement. 

As always, his brother took his waspishness in stride. Long strides, in fact, as they hurried past the metal skeletons that made up the Coney Island Train Yard, the whirr of traffic from the Belt Parkway rushing and thumping above them. Luigi felt like at any moment some old, rusted buckle would give way, sending a line of cabs and buses crashing into their heads.

He felt like that most of the time these days, to be honest. 

“It is simple, Luigi. You just gotta think positive. You never know what’s around the corner.” Mario tugged at his sleeve. “Now, come on. If we walk fast enough, we can get to Villbate’s before they close.”

“Alright, alright, you win, Mario. Something’s around the corner and for once, maybe it won’t be a guy with a baseball bat.” No. It won’t be a bat. It’ll be something worse. Like a flamethrower. Luigi was too tired to argue with his brother’s indomitable optimism. “Maybe we’ll get to your widower in Carroll Gardens and find the answers in her bathroom.”

Mario slapped his brother on the back. “That’s the spirit, Lou! Could be a whole new world waiting for us. Now let’s go - there’s a pistachio cannoli with my name on it and I am not missing out.”

“Hey, the pistachio cannolis are mine!”

“Not if you don’t run fast enough!” Mario gave his brother a playful push, taking off down Stillwell Avenue. Luigi watched his brother leap over a pile of trash bags, skittering between two cabs, one of which blared its horn in anger.

“Where you go, I guess I follow,” Luigi muttered to himself, adjusting his cap before taking off in his brother’s direction. And who knew? Maybe something was waiting for them around that corner.

[mommycitas]

hiii could i pls request negan x reader where the reader is sick and brings negan food in his cell bc it was her job and she starts to fight blacking out. maybe collapses right by his door and he reaches for the keys and gets out to help her. reader being concerned he’ll get in trouble bc he runs up the stairs to get someone’s attention maybe coming straight back to you. stuttering a “i’m scared” and holding out your hand. negan just being like r u sure and he holds it

A/N; thank you for the req!!! I love this idea so much and I hope you love what I wrote!!! And for the sickness I just gave reader like a flu/parasite typa thing but if you wanted something else lmk!!!

summary; Even when you are sick, you still have a job you have to do. When your body shuts down on itself, you get to see a sweet side of Alexandrias prisoner.

pairing; Negan x sick!fem!reader

Pronouns/Name; She/Her , Y/N

Warning; swearing, being sick, throwing up, mentions of death, feeling like dying. NOT PROOF READ !!

Word count; 786

You shift in bed, covered in a hot coating of sweat and having a pounding headache. Sitting up you already regret ever being born. You couldn’t handle being sick and here you were, a mess that felt like death. But still, you had your dumb ass job. Being able to live in Alexandria was great and all but for fucks sake, why couldn’t someone else feed fucking Negan when you were in bed practically throwing your guts up? Feeding Negan wasn’t much to do but it was 90 degrees out under the blaring sun and doing all that walking wasn’t really your idea of a good day. But then again, Michonne said you have too because you’re the only person that can stand being around him. You put on your comfiest summer clothes and walk to the pantry.

Most of the time, someone had already prepared his lunch for you. Everyone felt bad you had to deliver all his meals to him but you really didn't mind him. You felt like one of these days you'd be able to see the sweet side of him. You make it to the pantry and find a meal fit for a prisoner inside. You sigh to yourself spinning on your heels and making your way to his cell. You look up at the sun and can’t help but already feel exhausted and ready to go back to bed. Tiny black dots sprinkle your vision as you walk down the steps to the holding room. Fumbling your keys and opening the door you’re welcomed with a warm smile from Negan. "Hey doll, how are ya?" He gleefully asks "Oh, you know" you shrug off. You stumble over to the cell he's locked in and grab out your keys once again. "How are you today Negan?" you slur while inserting the key, but he gives you a strange look. You feel a wave of heat wash over you before you drop the tray.

The sound of the metal clanging on the concrete floor rings in your ears as your vision goes blurry. Your legs start to give up as you topple over. Looking up at Negan through the black spots in your vision. You watch carefully as he reaches through the bars and opens his cell and runs out. "Shit!" you thought "he's gonna get his shit kicked, he's gonna get in so much trouble, and it's all my fault." you feel an abundance of saliva in your mouth as you try and sit up, throwing up all over yourself. Laying in a puddle of your own spit, throw up, and blood. It feels like you've been left for dead, you can barely even sit up, how are you supposed to get help? How were you supposed to know that a simple sickness would be the cause of your death?

You turned over to look at the entrance and saw Negan running down the stairs and kneeling next to you. "Sorry for leaving you, doll. I had to get someone to help." you smile slightly at him before coughing yet again. "Negan" you stutter and slur "I'm so scared." reaching your hand out to his "Am I dying?" he stares at you blankly, hesitating for what seems like years "No, no you're not dying Y/N. You'll be alright." grabbing your hand intertwined in his. Michonne and Siddiq run down the stairs and lift you up, caring you to the infirmary. Negan never letting go off your hand once as you passed out.

You open your eyes and see you are in the infirmary, laying on a pitiful cot. Siddiq is right next to you, replacing your iv bag. "Oh good, you're finally awake!" He proclaims once he notices you. "You had a real nasty bug, thankfully nothing too serious." You smile and nod "Thank you Siddiq" No longer slurring or stuttering "Where's Negan?" he gives you a weird look before pointing to a corner of the room. As you sit up and turn your head you see Negan, blissfully sleeping in an arm chair. "He's been here since you got here, he refused to leave your side." "How long was I out for?" looking back at Siddiq. He shrugs "A day or two maybe"

You look back at Negan and realize you finally were able to see the sweet side of him. You watch as he slowly opens his eyes and notices you're awake. "Doll, you're up!" he practically jumps over to you, embracing you in a warm hug. "I was so worried you wouldn't wake up." You softly smile into his neck and wrap your arms around him. You were thankful for the man who was a monster in all your friends eyes.

[marvelobsessed134]

Sparks Fly part 2

Series masterlist

A/n: so sorry this took so long to get out 😭 also the timeline is kinda messed up but it’s 90s!tommy in this story so yeah takes place in the 90s

Pairings: Tommy Lee x Fem!Country Singer!reader

And soon enough you got a call from Tommy. He asked you out for dinner and of course you said yes. You’re so nervous, though. You know of his reputation and how he was with drugs not too long ago. But he’s so handsome and was so sweet you. You just had to say yes.

So, you’re in a light pink dress with peasant sleeves. Your hair in a ponytail with a light pink bow on it. Light makeup adorned your face. You had some pearl jewelry and white kitten heels. As you stood in front of the hotel room mirror making sure everything looked good when you got a knock on the door.

You sighed before shoving your nerves down and opening the door. Tommy stood before you with a grin on his face and flowers in his hand.

“Wow, you look…” he trailed off taking in your whole outfit.

You blushed, “Thanks.”

“Oh!” He said suddenly, jerking the flowers towards you, “I got you these. Wasn’t sure what your preferences on flowers were but thought I’d get ‘em anyways.” You took the bouquet from him and brought them to your nose, sniffing them.

“They’re beautiful Tommy.” You gushed before walking over and setting them on the nightstand. You’ll have to find a way to travel with them without them dying.

Then, the two of you were off on your first date. He took you to this very nice restaurant in Hollywood. Despite you having quite a bit of money yourself, it was way more fancy than you’ve ever been to.

The waiter showed you to your table and the questions began.

“So, I noticed you’re in a hotel…is your house getting renovated or something?” The drummer asked.

“Oh no. I live in Nashville but since I did a few shows here I stayed in a hotel.” You explained the most obvious reason why you were in a hotel.

“Nashville huh? So you’re a real country girl.”

You chuckled, “I guess you can say that. I’ve lived there my whole life. It’s my home yknow?”

“Yeah I can see that.”

It was quiet for a moment before you spoke up again, “So what’s going on with the band right now? I heard you guys laid off Vince?” It was a touchy subject sure, but you really wanted to know what the hell they were thinking when they fired the singer.

“Yeah, but it’s all cool cause we got a new guy, John Corabi. It’s better that way.” And he left it at that.

The two of you talked more and more, all throughout the night. You just couldn’t stop asking about each other.

As Tommy walked you out towards his Ferrari you said, “That was one of the most fun dates I’ve had in a long time.”

“Really?” He looked down at you and raised an eyebrow.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, “Yeah.”

“I’m glad then. I guess I held up to your standards?”

“Haha, yeah. I mean it’s not like I have any to begin with but you’re so respectful and sweet. Not to offend you but you’re a lot different than-“

“The media makes me out to be? Yeah. When I find a girl I really like I make sure to treat her as a queen.” Your stomach fluttered with butterflies.

The two of you got in his car and he turned on the radio but turned down the volume so you could still talk.

“I don’t believe I’ve asked you this but how old are you?” He asked.

“23.” You answered honestly.

“Ok, I’m 31. Was just making sure.”

“I thought you liked younger girls?” You teased.

“I do well- not under 18 girls you know…over 18? Fuck.”

You giggled as he tried to explain himself, “It’s fine. You know my mama told me not to go with older men better yet men in rock n roll bands but, you’re just so…different.” Tommy smiled at your southern accent.

“I’m not the best man in the world, I’ve done some pretty fucked up shit. Maybe not as much as Nikki but…” the drummer trailed off.

You put your hand over his that was sitting on the center console. He looked over at you with those brown eyes. “We’re human, we all do things we regret. That’s just how life works. Imagine if we didn’t do anything wrong, that’d be really boring and no lessons would be learned.”

“I see why you have an award for best songwriting.”

“Yeah, I guess Im somewhat of a poet myself.”

[squidorcuddlefish]

can you please PLEASE write a devon x reader where he takes you out to the vineyard and plays guitar for you under the stars I NEED IT SO BAD

a/n: DEVONNNN DEVON I LOVE DEVON!!!!!!!!!!!! this req is SO cute i’m crying

—

“Psst, hey.”

You turn to Devon, the soft glow of the TV the only light in the living room. You tilt your head and hum a “Hm?”

He practically jumps off the couch, the shared blanket falling off of the cushions and onto the floor. You look up at him and blink.

“Come with me,” He says, holding his hand out for you to grab onto. “I wanna bring you somewhere.”

You reach for your phone in your pockets, checking the time; 10:36. “Now? It’s kinda late, Dev.”

“I know, I know, but…” He has an excited smile on his face. “Just let me show you.” He gestures his still extended hand.

You pause for a moment before agreeing, taking his hand and following him off of the couch. You watch him grab a basket and his keys off of the kitchen counter before heading out the door.

—

When he started to slow down the car, it seemed like you were seriously in the middle of nowhere. He must’ve been able to read your facial expression, because he followed with, “I know, just trust me.”

You stepped out of the car and looked up at the stars. You had to admit, the sky looked gorgeous. You had to have been far from downtown, because it was silent other than the chirp of the crickets. Devon then took your hand, leading you forward into the vineyard.

For how dark it was, Devon was surprisingly good at finding where he was going. He turned through the grapevines, looking back at you occasionally to make sure you were keeping up well. His hand never moved from yours.

You finally came to a stop in the middle of a row of vines. It didn’t seem any different than any of the other rows of grapevines, but you didn’t care to question.

You look down to see a cute picnic setup. A soft, off white blanket with several unlit candles on top, along with a metal bowl and his guitar. You giggle, and Devon smiles back.

Devon lowered himself to sit. You followed suit, and he soon scooted closer to you. He took out a baggie of ice from the basket and pours it into the bowl. Two wine glasses and a bottle of wine were next out of the basket. He struggles with the cork on the bottle for a moment before it finally opens with a pop. He pours two glasses and hands you one before placing the bottle into the bowl of ice.

He leans forward to light the candles, which gave a warm glow over the picnic area.

“Well,” He breaks the silence. “I saw tonight was supposed to be nice out with low cloud coverage, so, I thought we could sit out here.” He looks up at the sky before looking back at you.

You smile, leaning on his shoulder. “You’re so sweet.”

He gives a sheepish laugh in response, then wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer. You feel a small kiss on the top of your head from him.

He holds out his glass to you. You tap yours against his, the glass giving a cheerful clink. You both take a sip.

He looks up at the sky again. “Isn’t it pretty?”

You whisper, “Yeah.”

“Not as pretty as you.” He added.

You snort, and he follows your laugher.

“You are so cheesy, Devon.” You tease through laughs.

He responds simply, “I know.”

You sigh contently, finding your place back against Devon’s shoulder. He gently rubs your arm with his thumb.

“Hey,” He says, reaching over for his guitar. “Any song requests?”

“Mmm… No, you choose.” You hum.

“Sublime? Third Eye Blind? Bush?” He clicks his tongue, plucking at the strings and adjusting the tune.

“Bush, Everything Zen.” You suggest. You know it’s his favorite.

—

a/n: AAAHHH i hope this is okay!!!!!! lord i haven’t written in so long….. devon save me. also DEVON CANON 90’S ALT/GRUNGE FAN GAAAHHHH I LOVE HIM

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 97. brb x oc

a/n: ah, i just love them you know. Also next chapter is smutty fluff so be prepared <3

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: fluff, rooster being the protective husband, mentions of bullying

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62/63/64/65/66/67/68/69/70/71/72/73/74/75/76/77/78/79/80/81/82/83/84/85/86/87/88

/89/90/91/92/93/94/95/96

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

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-

Beatrice washes her hands for a few seconds, humming happily to herself because she couldn’t hope for anything better. Rooster is a wonderful partner,husband,father, lover, he’s everything she’s ever wanted and more, her smile only widening when she looks at her reflection in the mirror.

She also takes another look at herself, turning her body left and right with her lower lip between her teeth, “Oh,I look good.” she looks at her ass, pulling the dress a bit just so it’d cover her butt a bit more but she’s loving herself so much. Beatrice sighs happily, closing her eyes briefly to smile more.

God she loved him so much. 

It was almost painful, but a good pain, a pain that reminds you are alive every time.

Her husband not only was a wonderful man, he was smart and he was funny and he was the most handsome guy she had ever met…and he had those arms and legs…and butt. She giggles like the sixteen years old Bea would with a crush, bouncing a bit on the spot before shaking herself, “Okay,okay,I need to calm down.” but she’s still gleefully laughing to herself, “Okay, easy Bea. Easy.”

Beatrice took in deep breaths before shaking herself one more time, turning towards the door. As soon as she opened it though, she blinked when she saw Lydia standing there,with her hand up as if to knock, “Oh! Oh,I’m so sorry Lydia, were you waiting long?” the other woman shook her head, “Oh,okay,I’m on my way now so you ca-”

“Bea, can I talk to you?”

The brunette slowly closed the door behind her, blinking at the request but smiling, “Sure!What’s up?”

Lydia licked her lips, looking down the hallway that led to the living room where people were still talking, “Can you walk with me?”

Beatrice furrows her brows briefly but nods, “Okay,sure.”

Lydia waits for a few seconds before turning on her heel towards the left, Beatrice noticed that the hallway led to a small study, really far from everyone else and easy to muffle any noises from the inside. She smiles when Lydia tells her to enter first, looking back when the other woman gently shuts the door but keeps her hands on the wood, “...is…everything okay?”

“...yes.” Lydia replies, shoulders lifting as she inhales, “I just…I never thought I’d see you again.” she laughs softly, turning around to face Beatrice, “Sit down?”

Beatrice looks down at the very comfortable plush chair, tucking the ends of her dress under her body as she sits down, watching the other woman do the same. Lydia looked…like she was ready to cry, her smile small but present, like she couldn’t believe they were talking. “...Lydia?”

“I’m sorry…I…I’m trying to control my emotions.” she sniffles, interlacing her hands on top of her thighs, “And trying to figure out how to start.”

Beatrice,while confused, didn’t judge her reactions, “It’s okay…take your time.” she whispered, placing her own hands on top of her thighs after pulling out her phone in case Rooster called or messaged her.

Lydia rubbed her hands over her face, then met Beatrice’s eyes, “....I…I don’t know how to begin.” she says, “But I think I’ll start with what I can recall…do you remember the Big Game at school?.”

Beatrice blinked, wracking her brain for a little bit as she tries to remember what she was talking about. Pieces of memories joined together as if to complete a puzzle, it was game night, them - the Boars - versus their rival school - the Timber Wolves - and there were a lot of people there.

More than normal, Beatrice remembers. She also remembers…that she went to the bathroom and then she walked out, but not what happened while she was in there. “Yes…why?”

Lydia laughs softly, “...you,uh,we met in that bathroom.” it was like the other woman could read her mind, “We-you, well…you saw me and some girls.” she begins, “And…and they were pushing me into the toilet.” 

Beatrice blinked, furrowing her brows as her mind tried to recall it perfectly. 

She could…see more of it now. She walked into the bathroom only to stop by the door when she saw Jasmine,Tessa and Caroline shoving a girl - shorter than she was with huge glasses on her face- into one of the stalls and she froze. She didn’t know what to do, if she did anything they’d add her to their scheme.

But she couldn’t leave the other girl either.

Beatrice remembers that they met eyes, briefly, the girl trying to ask for help only to have her face turned to the toilet. The loud cackling, the laughter, everything made Beatrice’s body shiver…what could she do? She looked around a bit, then remembered that this specific bathroom always had issues with the light - the piece of tape glued to the wall with the writings ‘DO NOT TOUCH’ above the switch was enough to be a telltale sign - and she wondered if she could…do it.

When she heard the obvious sound of the toilet seat lifting, she knew she had to think fast. So she just slapped her hand on the light switch, and that made the lights above explode and in turn made the group of bullies scream in fear. Beatrice tucked herself to the corner when she heard their footsteps rushing away from the bathroom, the door slamming when they left…

Leaving her and the girl alone.

She could hear her soft sniffling, so she slowly approached the stall where she was and helped her up. She told the girl her name, but she was…almost out of it, like it wasn’t real, if she wasn’t quick they’d both be in trouble by the staff and the bullies.

But that was about it, they never talked after that so maybe that was why Beatrice just…forgot. Also her trauma did that, for safety, maybe so she wouldn’t remember and accidentally let it slip that she was the one responsible.

“You saved my life.” Lydia whispers, frowning, “But I didn’t do the same to you.”

“Huh?”

“...I saw what you went through. But…I didn’t interfere when I should’ve.” Lydia frowned, rubbing her hands together, “I should’ve done something,I saw how much you suffered but-”

“You feared the heat would go to you.” Beatrice completed, “...it’s okay,I understand. I…I honestly felt the same a lot of times,I know I’ve defended people and never expected to be defended back. It’s the bullying logic.”

“I still feel ashamed.”

Beatrice smiles gently, leaning forward to touch the other woman’s hand, “Don’t be.” she whispered, ‘Please don’t be, you aren’t…at fault for what happened to me. You really aren’t.” she couldn’t have expected this and honestly, now that she remembered everything, she almost thought it’d trigger an anxiety attack or a panic attack…but nothing happened.

She felt…so good and so happy to know that she could,somehow, amidst her own personal hell, help someone else. Beatrice's high school self really needed this and she could feel her teenager self smiling from the inside “Are you sure?”

“Yes,yes,Lydia I’m so sure.” she says,cupping her hand with both of hers, ‘Please do not put that weight on yourself. It’s not your fault,you were a kid, a teenager. So was I,what did we know?”

“...I guess so.”

“I’m happy you are better though.” she whispered, smiling at her, “I really am, because you have a wonderful life now.” Lydia’s lips quirked upwards just a bit, just enough to show her appreciation, “But I mean it…please don’t blame yourself. It’s not worth it.”

Lydia’s little smile widened a bit, “...you know,I…it’s weird, but I feel like the people who did this to us never really changed.”

“Well,some did.” Beatrice whispered, “Hannah Dreyfus is now a good friend of mine. We talk sometimes.”

“Yeah, but not the other three.”

Beatrice huffed softly,”No,not the other three.” she sighed, “But, some people are just…too set in their ways, you know? It’s not worth it getting mad or upset over. I admit that…sometimes I get scared, and nervous, but therapy helps a lot.”

Lydia just smiles at Beatrice, “Yeah, I know what you mean.” and she squeezes the brunette’s hand again, “Thank you. So much for what you did.”

Beatrice just smiled back, whispering that it was no problem. Mentally she was a mix of happy and surprised and…and just relaxed. Like it finally happened, she finally managed to close a chapter of her life and maybe she could enjoy this place with Rooster if they could. 

Yeah,she was okay.

-

He licks his thumb and forefinger as he waits for Beatrice, sitting on one of the chairs inside the house after snacking on some of the freshly cut steak, turning his head to the hallway in hopes he could see his wife anywhere. Rooster, truly, stood out amongst the group of former classmates and he wasn’t complaining.

As long as they respected Beatrice he wouldn’t have any problems.

Bradley sits with the still warm plate on his thigh, holding his head up towards the hallway and clearly not paying attention to the surroundings. Because he doesn’t see some people looking over, in fact he only notices when Hannah taps him on the shoulder, “Look smart.” she muttered, ‘You got three vultures on you.” the redhead is casually standing behind him so he has to play as if he’s not looking in the direction she pointed at.

And he tries to not do a double take because he doesn’t know what to make of the three women looking at him, “Oh God.”

“I know.” Hannah muttered, bringing the glass of lemonade to her lips, “Where’s Bea?”

“Bathroom.”

“Do you want me to check on her?”

“Please.” and Hannah immediately walks off, the music makes it hard for him to hear her calling Beatrice’s name through the door but he can see the redhead pressing her cheek against the surface to hear the inside. 

Rooster has his brows low and immediately closes his eyes when he hears feet approaching and a sudden presence appear on the chair next to his, “Hi.” he had to calm himself down, be polite but be firm, that’s what his mother always said.

“Hi.” he tosses a small smile, hating how this just…reminded him of the night at the club, with that other girl whose name he no longer cared about…or Beatrice’s cousins.

“We couldn’t help but see you,” one of them said, which one? He didn’t care “And wonder…were we classmates?”

“No.”

“Oh?” another one asks, “And what are you doing here?”

Bradley held back the sarcasm, he did, only to rub his eye with his left hand, exposing the large and thick wedding band on his finger, “I’m here with my wife.” he says, dropping his hand after rubbing his eye and he had to hold back the pleased grin when they- he blinked however when he connected the dots, “...wait a minute, you three- I know you three.”

And that only made them forget the sudden disappointment, “Really?” one of them asked, the shortest one, “You do?”

“Yeah…you three bullied my wife in high school.” silence. Absolute silence is what he gets, everyone else around them still talks, music is still going but those three women just stare at him in shock. His pose changes, he’s taller now, no longer relaxed and his eyes were narrowed, “She told me about you.” he looked ready to murder them with words, if they thought they’d get anything out of him they were clearly wrong.

But Beatrice’s voice, alongside Hannah’s and another woman, made him look back to the hallway and his angry façade melted into a grin when he saw her. She turned to face him, her smile widening, “Hi,Roos!” she grins, speeding her step to meet him, cupping his face in her hands to kiss him in front of her former bullies.

Did he mind?

No.

He just enjoyed that delicious watermelon lip gloss and the way her hands felt on his skin, “Sorry,I was talking to Lydia.” she explains once she breaks the kiss, looking back to where Lydia was, standing next to Hannah.

“That’s fine,” he looks down at the still steaming plate in his hand, “I got you something.”

“Ohh, shrimp! Thank you.” she giggles, finally looking up to see those vultures still hovering by, faces red and angry because of her presence? Good if that was the case, “...well, do you want to stay here or should we go outside?”

“I don’t mind.” he smirks, “Whatever you want,gorgeous.”

Beatrice smiles back, looking down at his legs before turning around and sitting on his lap. Without warning but again, who was he to complain when his wife was so lovingly sweet whenever she wanted to be? “I like it here.” she says, bringing a shrimp skewer to her lips, yanking one of them into her mouth.

Bradley chuckles, pressing his chin to her shoulder and giving the three women a nasty look, almost daring them to say anything about this. Try it, he thinks, try and see what happens. It’s their confused “Beatrice is your wife?” that makes both of them look over at the three women.

Rooster’s large hand settles on the expanse of her thigh, the not so subtle squeeze on the flesh as he smirks, “She is.” he coos, kissing the underside of her jawline, “She’s my gorgeous wife.” and it’s like they’ve been slapped. Because back in the first ‘reunion’ as Beatrice told him, they were surprised but didn’t seem to get that it wasn’t high school anymore and there was no way they’d make her feel like shit.

And while she was nervous when she arrived, it was the complete opposite now. Now it was like someone turned the light switch and Beatrice was glowing. Her legs swung back and forth as she remained seated on his lap, chewing on the grilled shrimp with a pleased smile, “I am his wife.” she wiggles her ring finger, “Isn’t it amazing?”

It was amazing to see those women, who obviously hadn’t grown from high school age, just look even more deflated. Much like Beatrice’s former friends were, they couldn’t understand that the girl who was humiliated so much back then turned into…someone with confidence, someone who was loved by an amazing man and someone who had a very successful life in her very own way.

Rooster had his lips on her shoulder when the three women shuffled out of the house, scoffing, annoyed and angry because they couldn’t act like they were sixteen anymore. His laughter was a bit muffled but it made Beatrice look towards him, “Oh they were mad.”

“They were.” she giggles,kissing his forehead after wiping her lips with a napkin, “Let them.”

“Hmhm.” he kisses her cheek in return, looking back to where he saw Lydia talking to Thomas, the other officer hugging his wife close, “What did you two talk about?”

Beatrice slows her chewing, her smile widening before she explains everything to him. She couldn’t help the sting in her eyes when she told Rooster why Lydia wanted to talk, why she couldn’t remember and why it was so important that she showed up. Her husband just watched with interest, his hand coming up to quickly wipe a single tear that dared to dribble down her eye towards her cheek but her proud smile never left.

And honestly, he was very proud of her as well. There was nothing else inside of him but pride for his wife, for his sweet and kind wife who just needed to remember how important she was from time to time. And the way her eyes glowed when she spoke, the way her laugh was quiet and almost disbelieved only made him smile more, “Oh,gorgeous…you are so fucking special,baby.” he whispers, “You know that by now,right?”

“Yeah.” she smiles shyly, “I do.”

“How’s sixteen year old Beatrice doing?” he asks, “Is she okay?”

And the brunette takes a while to reply, but when she does her grin widens, “She’s very happy. She’s very,very happy Roos.”

“Good, that’s all that matters. You feeling like staying longer?” he opens his mouth when she hovers a shrimp to his lips and he couldn’t really deny such a sweet gesture, “I kinda like you feeding me,” he says while chewing, “Kinda hot.”

Beatrice smiles, “Maybe next time I’ll feed you grapes.” she whispers, “Wearing nothing but an apron.” she whispers the last part and his pupils dilate immediately, “But answering your question…yeah,I want to stay a bit longer. I think I’m feeling…a lot better.” she bites the inside of her cheek, “Yeah,I really am.”

[th3-0bjectivist]

Folks, for just over two months I’ve been digging up the festering carcasses of the BEST and DEADEST of dead bands. People out there seem to like the running theme, and your hearts on my posts are like candy-coated heroine syringes for both my stats and my ego. So, suit up, dear listener. That’s right, into the armored wetsuit with ya! This week we’re diving directly into earth’s molten core, because rare gems built under pressure like this are not meant to be simply forgotten. Let me take you back to the early 2000’s for a moment. George W. was in charge, we were on the verge of the war in Iraq, Korn and Linkin Park were still all the rage on radio waves, and one band that was the very definition of anti-establishment had temporarily broken up. The band I’m referring to is KMFDM, and if you don’t know about them, shame on you. You can self-flagellate repeatedly in any manner you choose after reading this post. For reference, I've covered KMFDM before on this blog, as well as recently creamed my long johns over hottie Lucia Cifarelli. In 1999, industrial techno German powerhouse KMFDM had temporarily broken up over internal stress and creative differences. Two members remained to attempt to formulate a new sound: rock/metal instrumentalist legend Tim Skold and group founder Sascha Konietzko, who shortly thereafter drafted a down-on-her-luck Lucia Cifarelli, making them a trio. This group released a grand total of one album in 2000 which sold over a hundred thousand copies, only to then revert directly back to the KMFDM brand due to popular demand and a new recording label deal. The apparent point of this short-lived breakoff group, MDFMK, was to provide a slight inversion from KMFDM’s dance-club heavy tunes and give their already built-in international audience a far more aggressive and ‘futuristic’ noise. What I think they ended up creating with their one and only album is what we refer to today as electronica, but with a slightly more guitar-laden twist that I would recommend sipping for flavor. It’s not really intended for dancing, but you can sure as hell dance to it. I don’t think it’s meant to be catchy per se, but a big portion of it manages to be. And with three lead vocalists and an endless creative capacity between its members, MDFMK’s sound may have eventually outshined its predecessor if only it had stayed a viable and continuing musical enterprise. Alas, it was not to be, and so the originality and moniker of MDFMK was sacrificed so that KMFDM could live once again. This is Get Out of My Head, a song I’ve loved for something like 15 years. Thanks Pandora! Back with more nostalgic and musical necromancy soon!

Their full album is here if you care to have a gander. It’s a trip, but it's also a decent trip. Next time I post music, it will include the lovely Lucia and come with a 90’s grunge aftertaste. Image source: https://music.youtube.com/channel/UCQWxPw6Fvg3cq_MiydIntyw