#London kin
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“Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, black bird, teach me how to sing~”
Johanna Barker aesthetic / moodboard !!
I love and kin her sm, she’s such a comfort character for me :)
#johanna barker#sweeney+todd+the+demon+barber+of+fleet+street#sweeney todd#maria bilbao#jayne wisener#anthony hope#jamie campbell bower#jordan fisher#moodboard#kinnie#kin character#aesthetic#character aesthetic#johanna sweeney todd#johanna aesthetic#benjamin barker#lucy barker#london#musicals#musical theatre#sweeney todd 2023#sweeney todd 2007#stephen sondheim#tim burton#comfort character#aesthetic board#hyperfixation#i love this character so much#i love her#birds
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Honestly David; mood, this is just me when I remember I need to do my math homework.
An American Werewolf in London (1981) dir. John Landis
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tbh dog guides is basically the precursor to golden week (also as of today happy 17 yr anniversary to dog guides!) which just makes me lol
dog guides: great dogs au
dog guides: kin no sehai (monty x kin no shuu)
dog guides: the museogers (scooter x idolgers)
dog guides: escape the san dimas jail (rocky x escape the ri-o verse)
#yes this is a shitpost#but also i think its fun/funny and sweet#real talk museugers would be /busted/ can you imagine scooter going ham in ueno park.#you got your hachiko. your thinker. your gates of heck. your rentaki taro -jazz handses dramatically- your jomon doki no sensei -cue music-#yes itd just be an excuse for me to make bijutune reference but i daresay scooter would be down for it too#i also cannot believe that in the 3 movies and tv special na tm hasnt had a composery boi (to my knowledge). pls#ba tea has had three lol (the big three). but to be fair the main characters are also interested in music lol#anyways dog guides are amazing and i love them.#they were my way of getting into more all ages movies and tbh of socializing with other people more too on my own#i feel like you could break down a lot of my bigger aus/stories into this is based on some development emotionally or whatever.#with dg being my trying to find a way to make friends on my own but still be true to my weird self#lf and friends was like. how i consumed fictional stuff. with lots of coping and love for my faves lol#ig for more college/etc time it would be maybe rpg au? how i consume gacha lol#monty being kin no shuu also makes so much sense bc it was very like. my favorite london memes#and like. etr even fits rocky bc its a big crossover and full of shenanigans (and fits rockys doomed timeline thing as well)#au ramblings#oc ramblings
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(via "they don't know me son " Magnet for Sale by FFashionFrenzy)
#findyourthing#redbubble#motivation#motivating quotes#united kingdom#manchester united#united kin#liverpool football club#london#t-shirt
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Celebrate Pride with Tor Publishing Group!
Rakesfall by @adamantine
They met as children in the middle of the Sri Lankan civil war. Later, in a demon-haunted wood, an act of violence linked them and propelled their souls on a journey through the ages. As they reincarnate ever deeper into the future, a truth emerges: Some stories take more than one lifetime to tell.
Running Close to the Wind by @ariaste
In this queer pirate fantasy, Avra Helvaçi has accidentally stolen the single most expensive secret in the world. To avoid capture, he flees to the open sea, where only his on-again, off-again ex aka pirate Captain Teveri az-Ḥaffār can help him survive, profit, and become a legend.
Cuckoo by Gretchen Felker-Martin
Something evil is buried deep in the desert. It wants your body and wears your skin. Welcome to Camp Resolution, a queer conversion center where everyone leaves a different person. In 1995, seven queer teens were abandoned here by their parents, but survived. Sixteen years later, they’re scarred and broken, but back to face an evil that threatens the world.
Kinning by Nisi Shawl
In this alternate history where barkcloth airships soar and former colonies claim freedom from imperialist tyrants, the identity of the island of Everfair still wavers. Victorious in the wake of the Great War, a new threat looms. Can Everfair continue to serve as a symbol of hope for anticolonial movements around the world, or will it fall to forces within and without?
Can’t Spell Treason Without Tea by @rebeccathornewrites
Can one of the Queen’s private guard and the most powerful mage in existence leave their lives behind to settle down in their new bookshop that serves tea? This cozy fantasy is steeped in sapphic romance and nestled on the edge of dragon country.
The Fragile Threads of Power by V. E. Schwab
Once there were four worlds, nestled like pages in a book, each pulsing with fantastical power and connected by a single city: London. After a desperate attempt to prevent corruption and ruin in the four Londons, there are only three. Now the worlds are going to collide anew—brought to a dangerous precipice by the discoveries of three remarkable magicians.
Now available in paperback!
The Archive Undying by @emcandon
This is a story about misplaced faith, complicated love, so much self-loathing, and yeah—giant robots. Plugged into his AI god when its apocalyptic corruption renders him unfortunately immortal, sad gay disaster Sunai takes a die-again-or-die-trying approach to things. Unending life’s tough when intimacy is somehow scarier even than either of the warring police states set on turning you into a weapon or the rogue undead mecha-fragment of your old god that wants to eat you.
Now available in paperback!
The Bell in the Fog by Lev AC Rosen
A dazzling historical mystery that dives into the shadowy, closeted world of the Navy, emerging in the gay bars of the city. It’s a whirlpool of missing people, violent strangers, and scandalous photos in 1952 San Francisco.
Now available in paperback!
Celebrate Pride with more titles from Tor Publishing Group here!
#the archive undying#emma mieko candon#the bell in the fog#lev ac rosen#can't spell treason without tea#rebecca thorne#the fragile threads of power#v e schwab#cuckoo#gretchen felker-martin#kinning#nisi shawl#running close to the wind#alexandra rowland#rakesfall#vajra chandrasekera#tor books#tor publishing group#bramble romance#nightfire books#forge books#bramble#tordotcom publishing#tdcp#lgbtqia+#gay reads#tbr#new books
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We are not Friends D.Bridgerton
Description: A falling out results in a lost friendship, between Y/n and Daphne, due to this, the two have not been friends for some time. But a sticky situation occurs and they are to come back together again. Let's hope the truth comes out, or God help these women.
"Mama!" Daphne cries, clenching the newest Lady Whistledown gossip in hand, pacing the drawing room, breaking closer to tears.
Violet Bridgerton rushes in, barely having a moment to steady herself before Daphne is crashing into her arms, weeping a set of worked up emotions.
"What seems to be the matter?" Violet takes her hand, sitting them both on the sofa, ringing for tea.
"Look!" She shoves the parchment in her chest, sulking in her handkerchief.
Violet's eyes blew open, shock visible on her face. "Oh, no... Anthony!"
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Y/n gasps, her mouth agape, caring not for her breakfast, storming out of her room.
"This has to be some sort of joke."
"Papa! Edger! Look at what Lady Whistledown had published!" She almost screams, running to the drawing room, slamming the parchment down on the breakfast table.
Damon jumps, spilling his tea with Y/n slumping herself on the sofa, visibly hopeless. "Must you be so loud, Y/n." He hisses, taking the paper with a scowl. "Sorry, papa but just read it."
Dearest gentle readers,
It seems, a simple ruse, can stain even the purest fabrics, even a Baudelaire and Bridgerton. Something new has come to this authors attention... Something rather fake, such as a false friendship. It seems, Miss Y/n Baudelaire and Miss Daphne Bridgerton, have never been allies, let alone friends for almost a year. You see, before the season of debutantes and marriage, the close friends had a falling out, one that led to tears, unspoken words and unfortunately an unmendable relationship. If it were me, I would have guessed a man had been involved. They have fooled us all with their plastic grins, gentle tones and 'friendly' banter. All this time behind closed doors, the two ladies loathed each other with a burning passion, all over a man.
Of course, Daphne and Y/n have not been friends for some time, but they both assumed their roles to be well-kept, keeping a distance and only conversing when need be. But that did not fool Lady Whistledown and now everyone in town knew of their broken alliance, leaving a gaping hole in their family relations. You see, both dynasties held a strong relationship, one of favors and marriage. They were like kin to each other, all relying on their relationship, like kings and queens to neighboring nations, for here in London their is always some sort of war among the tons.
"What did you do!" Damon booms, tossing the paper to the floor in a rage.
"Nothing, I swear it, papa. It's blaspheme, lies. Lady whis-"
"Lady Whistledown, is never wrong, child. In this situation, you best hope she is." Damon marches off, rage fuming from his ears.
A long silence fills the air, one thick and angry. Edger, her eldest brother hunches over, squeezing the bridge of his nose, frowning deeply, breathing harshly, clearly angry. Y/n tries to speak, feeling the need to smooth the tension over but nothing comes.
"Don't speak, your words will only upset me," He sighs sharply, legs crossed, trying to calm himself. "I don't want to know what happened but only, how are you going to mend your friendship with Miss Bridgerton." He's staring at her now, eyes calm, body still tense
"What am I going to do? It is but a rumor, Daphne and I are, thick as thieves." She nods, setting herself up with haste, leaving him alone before she suffocates herself on the tension.
What was she to do, indeed? Y/n, had not a clue. Her heart was not yet ready to be fixed, let alone face the girl who had shattered it with her lies. She was done with her but it seems the ton is not.
If she is to face Daphne Birdgerton again, she will have the truth.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Daphne paces the room, sure to burn a hole through the carpet, waiting on Y/n, if she shows up of course. Surely she would, surely she is to care about the reputation of here family. But as the time drew to midnight, the ball soon to end, Daphne began to slowly lose hope.
"My apologies gentlemen, but my dance card is full. Better luck, next event, yes?" Y/n slides past the double doors, closing them with a shaky breath, turning the lock as she enters.
"Where have you been?" Said Daphne, her tone strained and irritated.
Y/n does not answer, pouring herself a glass of bubbles, no doubt a method to pull it together. "My feet do hurt." She flops on the cushioned sofa, past Daphne, near the fire, slipping her feet wear off, tucking her them under herself, getting comfortable.
The library of the host wasn't as large as the Baudelaire Mansion, but it were a library and a private place, certain to keep unwanted eyes and ears away.
"Sit, I do prefer our conversation to be comfortable." She says, lazily waving Daphne over, ignoring her exasperated groan as she sits on the other end of the sofa.
She could see in the corner of her eye, Daphne pouting, legs crossed with her dainty arms folded over her chest. If the circumstances were different, Y/n would tease and even draw a laugh, but they were no longer friends, so the thought of making fun and jokes were nothing but a past-time, forgotten and never to be forged again. Anyways, she's exhausted, feet aching, Y/n was in no mood for banter or going through memory-lane, as if they could.
"Why were you late." Daphne turns to her, stern and still sulking. Y/n laughs, sipping her drink, effortlessly turning her head, staring at her, as if she were a child. "I am to marry before the end of the season, can't do that if no man asks for my hand." She explains, rather plainly as if she were bored.
A sharp pang jabs Daphne's chest. She knew Y/n would stop at nothing, until she had found a Suitor and wed. It's the goal of every young lady present at the party, except hers. Daphne wanted to make her dynasty proud and wed out of love, but she could not do that, if the one she loved stared back at her, wanting not a woman but a man. Oh, how she wished, she were a man, not a woman. Perhaps, she could wed Y/n, run to the countryside and build a family together. But the longer she stares at her, the more doubt she felt, for the eyes that looked at her were filled with bitter anger and unforgiveness.
"I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways."
Daphne could still recall the pain in her eyes, her smile erased in a few simple words, their long lasting friendship gone in a few moments. Guilt still loomed over her, like a shadow. But she couldn't pretend anymore, her heart became far too great for her to handle, Daphne could not trust herself to be alone with her, afraid she might flip and do something she'll regret. It had to be done, even if the eyes she once found comfort in hated her, wishing her dead.
If only things were different.
Y/n waves a hand in her face. "Hello, did you not hear a single word I said?" Her tone harsh, expression tight and clearly annoyed.
"Yes, of course!"
Y/n laughs humorlessly, visibly unconvinced. "You were spacing out again." She scoffs, setting the empty glass on the small wooden coffee table.
"You always do that! Especially when under hot water! Do you not car-"
Daphne zones out, losing herself in Y/n's visible rage. She were the only woman who could make anger look effortlessly beautiful, even if her words stung, which most of the time they did. But she cared not, for she knew Y/n did not mean what she said, only saying what comes to her mind when overwhelmed with fits of anger. She couldn't help the grin curving her lips, she's been starved of her company for too long, she had missed her yelling, her anger, her imperfections, that made her so perfect. She has missed every part of her, even her most messyest parts.
"What are you grinning at?" Said Y/n, frowning deeply, her tongue laced in poison, readying to kill.
"Nothing," Daphne snorts, clapping a hand over her lips, as if it could stop her uncontrollable chuckles. "Truly, nothing. My apologies, continue."
Y/n stood, furious and exhausted. "If this is how you defend your reputation— my reputation, you can kindly sod off!"
She picked up her skirts, making a b line for the exit. "Wait! You can't walk out there looking like that!" Daphne shields the only way out, blocking Y/n's path, trying her best not to buckle under glare.
"Looking like what."
Daphne swallows thickly, afraid of the wild fire before her: beautiful, stunning, luring, but dangerous and even deadly.
"You look displeased, angry, mad, furious... may I say, beautifully deadly." Daphne squeezes her eyes shut, waiting for another applause of sharpened words, but they never came.
Silence fell, like rain, cooling and even putting out the angry fire. Opening her eyes, she watches Y/n pour herself another drink, this time offering her a glass, eyes soft and gentle.
So that is all it took to calm her. Complements and sweetened words, is all that was needed to extinguish the flame. If only Daphne knew sooner, she could have saved her plenty of burns. Taking their places back on the sofa, Y/n slipping her slippers off once again, finding a comfortable position, they sat awkwardly, no words spoken.
"What I said before was, acting, pretending. We are already doing that, but we have to be closer, and spend a lot more time in public. Form a believable ruse." Y/n went on to explain, shifting in her spot, attention glued to Daphne.
Ruse.
The word made Daphne's stomach stir, making her sick. She did not want to pretend, did not want to act. She wanted her company to be raw, genuine. But she's fairly aware of her shortcomings, she just hoped that she could keep her wandering heart under control. There were many things Daphne wished for, but she will never wish for the falling of another's dynasty because she simply couldn't keep it together.
"Deal?"
"Deal." They shook hands in agreement, unknowingly dooming themselves in an unbreakable contract.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
The spring sun bloomed a great deal of heat and light, the park bustling with noise of joy, celebrating the thaw, signifying the beginning of warmer weather in the ton. Y/n kept safe under the provided shade of her family camp, fanning herself and sipping pink lemonade, doing her best to keep up chatter with another possible Suitor, completely ignoring the second party drawing near her family tent.
"Well, good afternoon Miss Daphne! It has been much time since we last had your company over for tea." Edger curtsied, offering her a chair beside Y/n.
"It has, hasn't it? I have been preoccupied with far too difficult things, I'm sure you'll understand." She grins in thanks, taking a glass of pink lemonade.
"Yes, of course. I'm sure Mr Deluca would be happy to join me and the other gentlemen, elsewhere." He looks between Daphne and Y/n, sending him a silent message.
He nods, leaving a kiss to Y/n's gloved knuckles, curtsying, acknowledging both women in farewell.
Y/n flutters her lashes, grinning as Stephen takes his leave, his gaze still glued to the young lady, incapable of tearing it away, fumbling behind Edger. Once out of view, she turns her attention to Daphne, finding a rather nasty scowl.
"Fix your face, it appears to me that you have sucked a sour lemon." Y/n shifts in her seat, trying to get comfortable, watching her younger brothers: Harwin and Hamish, fly their kites with Hyacinth and Gregory, Daphne's youngest siblings.
She gasps, insulted, hitting Y/n in the shoulder with her fan. "I do not!"
Y/n winches with irritation, hitting Daphne back, acting like children. "Don't hit me, you sour lemon." She chuckles, dodging her attackers next move with a swift stance, ready to run. Without a second thought, she pokes her harshly in the thigh with her fan, making a run for it when Daphne decides to stand, surly for revenge, starting a chase.
Ladies should not run but in this case, Y/n saw it rather fitting to make chase from the woman hot on her tail, she sure were fast for someone rather slow. With the possibility of being physically harmed she couldn't help but laugh, a smile permanently stuck to her face, swiftly sliding past Daphne as she drove forward, fan in hand. Y/n gave a gentle tap with her fan to her behind, watching Daphne gasp, grinning as she shook her head, recollecting herself before continuing with the chase.
"You're going to regret that, Y/n."
With a squeal Y/n ran, dodging and weaving past young and old, even through the Bridgerton tent. "Sorry!" She yells, passing Violet, using her as a shield from her attacker.
"Using my mama, is rather cowardice, don't you think?" Daphne pants, trying to find a way past Violet who stood with a smile, finally happy to see her daughter and dearest friend frolic.
"Not at all, I'm sure your mama is enjoying herself. Aren't you ma'am?"
Violet rolls her eyes, stiff as a board. "Oh, Y/n what's that!" Daphne stills, pointing at something past Y/n's gaze, distracting her.
With her distraction she catches her, holding her in her arms, making it impossible for Y/n to escape. "Cheat!" She cries, laughing and without thinking, embraces Daphne, panting and grinning.
The two held each other, completely out of breath and out of hatred. The Bridgerton and Baudelaire girls back together again, even though it were a false friendship.
"Y/n would you join us for a glass of peach tea and perhaps chat about the season, so far? I see plenty of Suitors have swept to your feet." Violet offered a glass, acknowledging her state of jovial exhaustion.
"Yes, of course, Violet! I do adore your peach tea, I find it the most refreshing." She beams, taking the glass with Daphne's hand intertwined with her own.
Even with the presence of the spring heat, they chat for hours, drawing laughs, terrible jokes and even worse memories. "No, he didn't!" Daphne gasped, squeezing her hand.
"Oh, yes! Violet saw and had to step in. If she didn't I would have smacked him senseless." Y/n explained, high on story telling, completely oblivious or unbothered to her head resting on her shoulder, chuckling at the sudden throw back.
"Oh, yes... He was rather, rude and arrogant. His mother needs to teach him better manners." Violet gave a disapproving shake, sipping her peach tea, the pitcher almost empty.
"The worst part is, the young gentlemen came back! The nerve... And with his mother, no less." Violet tsk's, rolling her eyes.
"His mother!" Daphne chokes on her peach tea.
"Yes! A nasty blob of a woman."
"Mother!" Daphne scolds, Y/n laughing harder than intended.
"Your mother can be quite the... Bear." Y/n mutters, laying her empty glass down on the small white table, holding a silver tray.
"What? Would you have preferred that I do nothing? That witch bore an ugly heart of a boy, with a face of a donkey." She shrugged, pouring her guess another glass.
Y/n whizzed a laugh, Daphne slapping her on the arm, clearly not wanting her to encourage her mothers antics.
"Don't encourage her, she'll never stop." Daphne warns with a playful grins. "My apologies. Violet, next time go for the eyes before the crutch."
Violet chuckled with a wink, Daphne nudging Y/n.
At this time tents were slowly being stored away and the sun began to draw behind the clouds, dipping away for the night. With that, Y/n's lady Maid, Daisy strolled over, fetching the young lady.
"We are to leave in five, Edger wishes everyone to make haste to the carriage." She informs her, bobbing a curtsy, leaving faster than she came.
"Right, well the tea has been splendid, thank you Violet," She stands, sweeping her dress clean, bowing in farewell and thanks. "I do wish to spend another day like this, perhaps sooner than later."
"Oh, the thanks is all mine, you truly are missed. Our door is always open to you, if you ever need an escape from your brothers, but I can't promise much relief." She returns her bow, hugging her farewell.
"I'll walk you back." Daphne offers, high on a day filled with someone she missed, even with the sense of a ruse
She took her arm, moving rather slowly, not wanting to let her other half go, just yet.
"Stephen seems smitten with you, like all of your Suitors. He'll make an excellent husband and a great father, if you wed of course. You are to be wed?" Daphne asks, her tone and expression worried, searching for Y/n's gaze.
For a moment, her eyes pooled with fear, something Daphne thought she would never witness, for Y/n was always knowing, always confident and strong. Did she not wish to be wed?
Patting Daphne's arm, Y/n stops, looping her arm free, clearing her throat, her smile genuine to the eyes of a fool but Daphne is no fool, she sees right through her, like one sees through glass. Her smile seemed strained, pained, worried and hurt.
"I do thank you for today, it truly was a treat but I best go now and with haste, don't want to keep Edger waiting, you dare keep him waiting and he's all on you with claws. Hopefully Lady Whistledown buys our little ruse and our families reputation... Will be mended," She pauses, rolling her thumbs over Daphne's gloved hands, comforting and reassuring.
"I am sure you want me gone as much as Eloise, wishes to rid the world of men."
No, I do not want you gone, I want you near, close, incapable of leaving... I want you, as one wants oxygen.
But Daphne could not say that, not to anyone. To harbor affection for a fellow woman is forbidden, wrong, worse compared to her current situation. If Daphne were to bring speech to her hidden affirmation, she could be ruined─ her entire dynasty will be ruined, all because she couldn't stop her stubborn heart for loving this woman, who loathed her most. Would she hate her more, if she were to be honest? Would she kill her or out her if she were to give voice for her love?
Daphne wanted to scream, shout, yell and cry until her throat ran dry. She needs Y/n, like oxygen... Like a bed of roses that craves for water. But she couldn't have her, not in this life... Not in any.
Parting, broke Daphne, as if a weight had landed on her chest, crushing her heart.
"With haste, Daphne!" Eloise calls, her voice booming over the chatter of the bustling park, scaring a flock of birds, that took flight, frightened by the sudden noise, flapping and gobbling their own sounds.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Daphne is not the only person who eyed Y/n, as if she were the main course of the dinner party──"She's beautiful." Said Benedict, sipping his cocktail, eyeing the girl he's been trying to court for the entire season.
Of course, she were beautiful, it's Y/n, beauty came naturally to her and so did Suitors. She had not yet made it to the floor when a swarm of men crowded her, offering her a dance, a drink, a hand and even food. "Of course, she's beautiful, Benedict, only a fool will think otherwise." Said Daphne, gritting her teeth at her brother and the other men swooning for someone she wish were her's.
Y/n, wore her award winning smile, promising a dance to the first few boys, who pooled to her pink jeweled feet. Tonight she bared a rose quartz color dress, her neck donned with a matching gem necklace. Her hair flowed in ringlets, decoder with pink jeweled flowers, drawing back half her mane in a lovely back crown. Her ears, clipped with pink diamonds, rolling out a theme with her outfit. She stuck out.
Half way through the night Daphne had danced, performing that best she could, her gaze constantly shifting to the girl in pink, chatting to a ring off men, containing of lords, viscounts, dukes and even a prince.
She's growing tired at watching them frolic around her, making her laugh, gritting her teeth to dust. If she were a man, she would have courted Lady Y/n, long ago, asking for her hand with the most expensive flowers, gems, jewels and food─she loves her food, the best way to Y/n's heart is always food. Daphne is sure, that if Y/n had a choice between a husband and an infinite supply of her favorite foods, this season would have been short lived, less then a second spent on finding a husband, she'll be with a food child, living her best life.
By the expression on Y/n's face, she is growing exhausted, tired of these men, ready for sleep and perhaps a hearty meal. But the night was not over and the room is becoming far too warm. Fanning herself, Y/n excuses herself, gliding past men and women, young and old, shifting through until she were out, venturing to the fountain, relieved to finally have silence.
"I didn't expect you to leave such handsome men behind. Many looked rather wounded at your departure, I'm sure you shattered a few hearts." The sound of Daphne's voice makes Y/n jump, hand slamming against her chest in fright.
Calming herself, Y/n breaths an exhausted laugh, fanning herself still. She did not expect company, especially not Daphnes.
"Excuse my behavior but you gave me a fright. I was not anticipating your presence, not after Lady Whisledown's latest update." Said Y/n, scooting over, allowing Daphne to sit with her in the lip of the fountain.
"Uh, yes Lady Whistledown's paper, she seems rather impressed with our ruse, she even called us 'two peas in a pod'." The two shared a short laugh, consumed by awkward silence and embarrassing sniffs.
Lady Whistledown seemed pleased with their act, that she published two columns regarding their false friendship, speaking great praise for their public fondness. Thinking their friendship to be mended, fixed and thriving. So, why spend another minute in the same environment, pretending to enjoy their company.
Clearing her throat, Y/n turned her attention to Daphne. "Do you need something?" Her eyes wander, bottom lip stuck between her teeth, waiting for an answer.
Daphne paused, thinking for the best excuse possible. "No, I just wanted to see you... Perhaps offer a stroll around the gardens."
"I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways."
Y/n scoffs, lowering her gaze to the gravel floor, an irritated grin, spreading across her face. "What are you doing?" She questions, her tone angry and steady, fire blooming under her gaze.
What is Daphne doing, indeed?
She had made it abundantly clear, their friendship meant nothing to her, that she wanted no part with Y/n at all. So, what were she doing, indeed?
Daphne swallowed thickly, guilt pooling in her stomach, knowing what she meant. She could be honest and risk her friendship a second time, or lie, and simply never see Y/n's face again.
"Don't say you don't know what I speak, because you do." Said Y/n, leveling her eyes with Daphne's, killing the slightest light in her eyes. "Must I recall what you said to me... What you never want me to forget. I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways." Her tone, sharp and mean.
"You lied to me, to yourself. You never thought it best for us to go our separate ways. If you did, you would not be here, you would be happy with Lady Whistledowns latest publish, leaving me be... Like nothing had changed."
Y/n spoke with confidence, anger, bitterness and unforgiveness. But behind her words, something sad, hurt and betrayed lived there. Something Daphne did not miss, hurting herself in the process, shifting her gaze to her hands, wanting to disappear, hating herself for allowing her heart to fall so far.
"Why did you lie?" The crack in her voice, sounded false, fictional, but one glance in her eyes, Daphne was sure her heart shattered. She had missed Daphne, wanting to let her go as quickly as she had come. Heal quickly and move on. But her heart wouldn't allow it, wouldn't allow her to patch and sew herself back up again, until she had the truth.
Daphne's throat ran dry, she didn't know where to start, or even say anything, but her chest ached, she had to tell her. Sucking in a breath, Daphne steadied herself, bracing the threshold.
"I didn't want to let you go. I wanted to keep you, to steal you, to force you to stay and never leave my side... Not even for a man, for a Suitor, or for a husband." Daphne shook her head, laughing at herself. "Frankly, I wish I were a man, for a far different reason than Eloise. I wish I were born with a penis, because my affection for you... They're abnormal, wrong, forbidden... Strangling me, starving me of oxygen." Daphne sniffles, tears clogging her speech, her smile strained and tight.
"I wish to have you as a Suitor wishes to court you. Y/n I never wanted to go our separate ways, but what were I to do! You wish to wed a fine man, but I am a woman... You hate me, you don't feel the slightest affection for me... You'll love, and I'll die." She cries into her palm, body shaking, nose sniffling.
Y/n's mouth fell open, gaping, soundless. She did not expect her own friend to spill her heart out to her, to love her as a husband loved his wife. Y/n was speechless.
"You wish to be a man, for me?" Y/n leans forward, freeing Daphne's hands from her face, staring into her puffy eyes, searching for truth.
Daphne quivers. "Disgusting, for a woman to wish to be a man, so she could be free to love the woman her heart longs for." She chokes, leaning into Y/n's shoulder, her hand guiding her head, cuddling her closer.
Y/n grins, stroking Daphne's hair.
"You say disgusting, I say romantic." She giggles, rolling her thumb over Daphne's arm.
Daphne tilts her head up, gazing up at Y/n, clearly confused.
"What?" Her question barely, audible.
"If you wish to be a man for my heart, why not have it?" Y/n held her chin between her fingers, gently kissing her, sealing her vow.
"You do wish to have my heart?" She asks once a part, allowing Daphne to process the moment.
"Yes! A thousand times yes!" Daphne smiles, snatching another kiss, holding Y/n so very close, their chests embrace each other.
#daphne bridgerton#daphne bridgerton x reader#eloise bridgerton#eloise bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton#Benedict bridgerton x reader#colin bridgerton#colin bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#penelope featherington#Penelope featherington x reader#Simon basset#simon basset x reader#sapphic#wlw#sapphic love#sapphic yearning#wlw post#wlw yearning
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Cameo week highlights, general info part 2
if jayden was to imagine how charles looks like, he thinks charles would be brawnier than he is
edwin took notes in his notebook about his conflicting feelings about charles, ck and monty
there were plans for a dbda halloween and xmas special
charles would want to hit edwin's dad with a cricket bat
charles and edwin frequent the london eye
reading detective stories together is what the boys do to unwind after a rough day (possibly with edwin reading out loud to charles, based on what Zack Ogle said)
charles would wish on a star for his mom to be okay
payneland's theme song would be "you've got a friend in me"
said in george's spoilery tone "maybe we would have (seen the boys go for a swim)"
there'd be a proper argument between the boys in s2
in s2 they would be a fox and a rabbit character with a specific relationship with one of the main four, named kith and kin
while alive charles just latched onto anybody who was willing to spend time with him
george like to imagine that edwin would have a horse/have access to a horse at st hilarion and would do some horse-riding (also implies a possible horse-riding scene in s2)
george loves Italy! says he feels like his best self there
we would have seen crystal navigating life back in london in s2
#dead boy detectives#my posts#edwin payne#charles rowland#dead boy detective agency#dbda#george rexstrew#jayden revri#gameoden
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chris_bloodfilms Met my hero on a train. This story is long so scroll if you cba reading. It’s 2005, a band explodes on MySpace. They’re dressed like you and their lyrics are a mirror to your life. Bleeding heck, who the fuck are the Arctic Monkeys? After 19 years on repeat it’s now 2024. Myself and @/conor_bloodfilms are travelling back from Paris. We arrive at Gare Du Nord and Duffy stops in his tracks. He whispers to me “I think that’s Alex Turner.” “F**k off!” I immediately reply. I gaze over at a guy wearing a leather jacket with long brown hair, his face adorned with aviators. We should probably stop staring as it’s getting weird, sexually and aggressively weird. Turns out it is bloody Alex Turner, the man who’s provided the soundtrack to my life! He strolls past and disappears into the Parisian platform crowd. A missed opportunity. We board our train back to London. We look to our left and there’s Alex. Sitting in his seat accompanied by a notepad. He’s probably writing the next Arctic Monkeys hit “Two gawping pricks on a train”. We really need to stop staring. I tell Duffers I’m going in, he stops me. Reminds me that I’m a fully functioning adult and not to create a scene. Christ, he’s right! I feel like I’m 15 years old again, someone get me a Strongbow and whack Dancing Shoes on, kin hell lad! Eventually myself and Con engage, it’s a surreal experience. Alex is polite and returns conversation in a soft friendly manner. The whole situation is just bloody lovely. I awkwardly ask if I can take his portrait, fully aware that it could result in an awkward exchange and destroy this wonderful moment. He smiles and obliges, he’s effortlessly cool, asks for direction and I take a few snaps. We disembark the train, I felt quite emotional and that’s embarrassing to admit. Maybe it was the jet lag, the caffeine and croissant overload? Or maybe it was just the rekindling of my youth. This all might sound trivial, however, for me these portraits are deeply personal serving a reminder that life is a series of fortunate events and when fully appreciated can conjure up some pretty awesome memories.
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idk how tumblr works but i NEED you guys to see my mcm comic con lineup from the weekend just gone (sat/sun)
'Rodrick Heffley would kin Sollux Captor', and post
#rodrick heffley#diary of a wimpy kid#homestuck#sollux captor#doawk#cosplay#cosplayer#mcm london#comic con#yes i kin them both
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Invented drinks from Tim's coffee shop:
This is part of an AU I'm writing about Tim never joining the Batfam, so, yeah, read that first. Im too lazy to put all the parts, so, go to that link, there will be the first parts
• Coffee I'm The Night – $4.50 (A dark and robust coffee, with a hint of mint, ideal for those looking for something strong and comforting)
• Purple Spoiler Tea – $4.00 (Lavender or blueberry tea, with a touch of honey, something soft and relaxing)
• Espresso Depresso – $3.50 (A strong and bitter espresso, for those who need an extra push)
• Frappuccwing – $5.00 (A frappé with whipped cream, garnished with a hint of strawberry or caramel)
• Latte Matte – $4.75 (A latte with oat milk and a touch of spice)
• Orphan Coffee – $4.25 (A traditional coffee with a hint of cinnamon, evoking something warm and cozy)
• Robin Mokkaccino – $5.25 (A delicious mocha with a hint of dark cocoa and a touch of vanilla)
• Ice Hood – $5.50 (An iced coffee with vanilla syrup and cold cream, perfect for cooling off)
• A Decaffeinated Signal – $4.00 (Decaffeinated coffee with a hint of almond or hazelnut)
• Chai-dentity Crisis – (Chai with almond milk and a touch of honey)
• Two-Shots Latte – (Double espresso latte, because someone always needs two chances)
• Villain Vanilla Shake – (Wickedly creamy, vanilla shake with chocolate chips)
• Gotham Fog – (Dark version of London Fog, Earl Grey tea with steamed milk and a touch of lavender)
• Cold as Freeze – (Coffee slush with whipped cream and mint chips)
• Nightwing Nitro – (Coffee Nitro, elegant but with a strong punch)
• Bane's Protein Shake – (Banana and almond butter protein shake to break your fast in style)
• Caffeinestein – (Coffee infused with an extra boost of caffeine, for those who need to go crazy in the morning)
• Espress-Oh No! – (Espresso with a touch of cinnamon and hazelnut liqueur, ideal for making bad decisions)
• Riddle Me This... – (Mysterious infusion of hibiscus, red fruits and a touch of pink pepper)
• Ginger Crowffee – (Ginger and honey spiced latte, as chaotic as a certain scattered bird)
• Shaken, Not Stirred Espresso – (Non-alcoholic espresso martini, because class needs caffeine too)
• Pump Bat-kin Latte – (Pumpkin latte with a hint of dark chocolate and cinnamon)
• Choco-Freeze – (Chocolate and mint shake, so cold it leaves you frozen)
• Deadshot of Espresso – (Double espresso without sugar, because one shot, one hit… or a tachycardia)
• Venti-llante – (A venti latte, because nothing screams “night watchman” like too much caffeine)
• ChocoBane Shake – (Chocolate protein shake with a hint of chili, because it will make you stronger… but it will hurt first)
Desserts:
• Bat-nana split – $6.00 (A banana split with a touch of dark chocolate and whipped cream)
• Stealed Cat-Cake – $5.75 (A dark chocolate cupcake with creamy filling and a hint of mint)
• Moccha Riddle – $4.50 (A soft and fluffy mocha cake with chocolate frosting)
• Joker Cake (Because it explodes) – $7.00 (A chocolate cake with a surprise filling that 'explodes' with a splash of liquor, decorated with brightly colored cream)
• Black Cookie(s) – $2.75 (Dark chocolate cookies, perfect to accompany coffee)
• ScatteredCrow – $5.25 (Walnut brownie with a hint of sea salt and caramel, a robust dessert)
• Harley's Chaos – (Red velvet cupcake with raspberry filling and decorated with red and black colors)
• Raspberry Ghoul-ette – (Raspberry cupcake with dark frosting, for ghosts who love sweets)
• Puddin' Proof – (Chocolate caramel pudding, because if you have to prove it, it's not real pudding)
• Crime Brûlée – (Crème brûlée with a hint of rum, so good it should be illegal)
• Sin-amon Roll – (Sinfully Delicious Cinnamon Roll)
• Death by Chocolatewing – (Dark chocolate cake with layers of ganache and a pinch of sea salt)
• Sweet Tooth's Revenge – (Ice cream with caramel, brownie pieces and lots of chocolate chips)
• Hood Velvet Cake – (Red Velvet Cake with Cream Cheese and Raspberry Filling)
• Jelly Dent – (Strawberry jam filled donut, perfect until someone takes a bite)
• Snicker-Crow – (Chocolate, caramel and nut bar, with a touch of coffee for those who need a plan)
• Sweet, Sweet Vengeance Pie – (Salted Caramel Apple Pie, because revenge is better when it’s sweet)
• Broken Wing Brownie – (Brownie with a melted dark chocolate center, perfect for melancholic nights)
• Joker's Wildberry Tart – (Wildberry tart with colorful whipped cream, because there's always a surprise in every bite)
• The Double-Face Cookie – (Half chocolate chip, half oatmeal cookie, for the indecisive or the morally ambiguous)
• Not-So-Fortunate Fortune Cookie – (Fortune cookie that only says "Tough luck, kid.")
Breakfast and Brunch:
• Eggs-tra Vigilante – (Scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon and toast, because night heroes also eat breakfast)
• Robin's Toast – (French toast with powdered sugar and red berry syrup, as sweet as it is deadly)
• Bat-cakes – (Chocolate pancakes with bat ears and whipped cream)
• The Darkoats Rises – (Homemade granola with Greek yogurt and honey, because sometimes simple is best)
• The Last Bite of Krypton – (Spinach and feta omelette, packed with solar energy in every bite)
Sandwiches and Salads:
• Gotham Club Sandwich – (Triple sandwich with turkey, bacon, lettuce and tomato, as big as the city itself)
• The Knightwich – (Roast beef sandwich with melted cheese on rustic bread, for those dark and stormy days)
• Harvey's Half – (Sandwich with two different halves: one with ham and cheese, the other with turkey and cranberries)
• The Poison Green – (Spinach, arugula, avocado, walnut and basil dressing salad, as fresh as it is lethal)
• The Anti-Meat – (Vegan Sandwich)
• Scarecroissant – (Croissant filled with ham, Swiss cheese and mustard, so addictive it’s scary)
• Hall of Just-ice – (Crispy Chicken Caesar Salad, so classic it deserves its own monument)
• Bane's Big Bite – (Chili with meat and melted cheese, because surviving in Gotham requires a main course)
• Shiva's Hair – (Noodle soup with spicy broth, pork and egg, as lethal as its creator)
• Freeze Fries – (French fries with cheese and ranch dressing, always served cold, but with a warm heart)
Honestly I was too lazy to put prices on the rest of them, but I had fun naming them.
Well, my brother told me "You should put copyright on it" and I really don't want to, but, if you ever make any of my desserts and/or use any of the names I'd like you to send me a picture of it, and be tagged, other than that you're free to use any, and since I see you want ALL O_o the recipes, I'll post them on my personal account and tag them here, because I refuse to have so many recipes here, I have to scroll down too far to find my past posts
#this was actually really fun#dc comics#batman#batfam#superman#lady shiva#dessert#fictional cafeteria#lol#tim drake#dc robin#nightwing#tim drake centric#batfamily#dc#justice league#names#i actually created more names and prices for coffee products just for fun#I do know how to prepare all of them...#so#If anyone wants the recipe for any of them#tell me.#robin hood au
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I love you - L. Sargeant
Summary: Y/n when she finds out about the dismissal of Logan.
Y/n stepped out of the office building, the evening air brushing against her skin as she slipped her hand into her purse to pull out her phone. The screen flickered to life, exposing a photo that never failed to warm her heart—a snapshot of Logan, captured in a moment of pure, unguarded joy. He was laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners, staring straight at her through the camera with that infectious smile that made everything else in the world seem distant and insignificant. Her own smile crept across her lips, soft and instinctive.
With a small sigh of contentment, she placed her AirPods in her ears, the familiar opening chords of her favourite song easing her out of the moment and back into the present. The city around her was alive with its usual chaos—cars honking, people chattering, the distant roar of a plane overhead—but the music created a barrier, a comforting bubble that made the world feel a little less hectic, a little more bearable.
She put her phone back into her coat purse as she set off towards the tube station. The streets, though bustling with the typical rush-hour crowd, had become second nature to her; she moved through them with a kind of unconscious grace, weaving in and out of the throng with ease. The cobblestones beneath her feet were wet from a recent drizzle, reflecting the orange glow of the streetlights as dusk slowly folded into night.
Her thoughts began to drift, as they often did on these solitary walks, from the mundane details of the day’s work to the warmth waiting for her at home. The stark contrast between the bustling heart of the city, with its relentless pace and constant noise, and the quiet sanctuary they had carved out for themselves in their little corner of London, always brought her a sense of relief. It was the difference between holding her breath and finally exhaling, a sigh of contentment at the thought of their peaceful neighbourhood.
The tube station loomed ahead, its entrance a yawning mouth that swallowed the constant stream of commuters. Y/n descended the stairs, the music in her ears blending with the rhythmic clatter of trains and the murmur of voices. The train arrived with a gust of wind, the doors sliding open to reveal the usual mix of strangers packed inside. She squeezed in, finding a spot to stand near the door, one hand gripping the pole for balance as the train jolted forward. Her thoughts drifted back to Logan, to the look in his eyes when he’d kissed her goodbye that morning—a look that had seemed almost distant, like something was weighing on him, something he hadn’t quite found the words to share.
This F1 season had been extremely difficult for Logan. The pressure, the endless travel, the scrutiny from fans and media alike—it was all beginning to take its toll on him, and she could see it in the way he carried himself, in the way his shoulders slumped when he thought no one was looking. He had always been passionate about racing, had always thrived on the adrenaline and the challenge, but this season was different. With each race, it seemed like the weight of it all was pushing him closer to the edge.
She had seen him at his best—confident, focused, driven—but lately, those moments had been few and far between. Instead, there was a weariness in his eyes, a sense of doubt that had crept in and taken root. She had tried to be there for him, to support him in every way she could, but she knew that some battles had to be fought alone. Still, it pained her to see him struggle, to see the sport he loved so much slowly drain the life out of him.
Her stop came quicker than expected. She quickly exited the tube and the station and made a quick stop at a local store, to pick up a parcel. When at the shop, her eyes spotted Kinder Bueno. Without hesitation, she bought one. Kinder Bueno was a thing in Logan and Y/n’s life. They always shared one. And Y/n felt like sharing a Kinder Bueno. The parcel safely tucked under her arm and the Kinder Bueno in her purse, she left the shop and began the walk home. The streets were quiet, the orange glow of the streetlights casting long shadows that danced across the pavement. She found herself appreciating the stillness, the way the city seemed to pause here, allowing her a moment of peace before she reached their flat.
The front door creaked slightly as she pushed it open, stepping into the dark hallway. The hallway was always dimly lit when someone was home, so it made her wonder if Logan was home. She closed the door behind her, took off her shoes and walked to the living area.
“Hey,” she said slightly surprised when she saw Logan sitting in one of the chairs of the dining table. He was facing the windows, looking outside. Y/n put her purse, bag and parcel on the table and took out her AirPods. She got no answer from her boyfriend.
There was something off in the way he sat, a stiffness in his posture that sent a ripple of unease through her.
“Hey,” she said again, trying to get in contact with Logan.
He looked over his shoulder, surprised to see Y/n standing at the other side of the table. “Hey,” he murmured, forcing a smile that barely touched his lips and never reached his eyes.
The smile was wrong—flat, almost hollow. It lacked the warmth she was used to, the easy way his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he saw her, as if just her presence was enough to make everything right in the world. But tonight, that spark was missing, replaced by something cold and distant.
What a welcome after a week apart from each other, Y/n thought, a pang of sadness settling in her chest. She had been looking forward to this moment all day, to seeing him, to feeling his arms around her after what felt like an eternity of being apart. But now, standing there with him just a few feet away, she felt a chasm between them that hadn’t been there before.
“Are you okay?” Y/n asked and stepped towards him. “What is wrong?”
For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze dropping to the floor as if the weight of the world was pulling him down. Then, slowly, he shook his head, a tremor running through him. He took a deep breath that seemed to shudder through his entire body, he looked back at her, his expression crumbling into one of raw vulnerability.
“I’m gone,” he blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips in a single, desperate breath. His voice cracked, the bravado he would tried to maintain splintering into pieces as the reality of his situation overwhelmed him. And just like that, he burst into tears, the sobs tearing through him with a force that startled them both. His body shook with the intensity of it, the weight of all he had been holding back crashing down on him at once. He tried to speak, to say something, anything that could make sense of what he was feeling, but the words wouldn’t come. All he could do was cry, releasing the anguish that had been building inside him for far too long.
He broke.
“Fuck,” was Y/n’s first reaction. She stepped to him, closing the distance between them in an instant. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t think twice—she just wrapped her arms around him, holding him as tightly as she could, trying to offer him some semblance of comfort, of safety. He buried his face in her shoulder, his tears soaking through her shirt as he clung to her, as if she were the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling with her own emotions as she stroked his back, her hand moving in slow, soothing circles. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here. I’m right here.”
But she knew that right now, those words might feel empty to him. Nothing she said could change what he was going through, could make the pain disappear. All she could do was be there, hold him, and let him know that he wasn’t alone in this, no matter how lost he felt.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Y/n whispered.
It broke her heart to see him like this. Racing was his everything. It was the fire that fuelled him, the passion that had driven him for as long as she had known him. It was more than just a job—it was his identity, his purpose. And now, that part of him had been ripped away so brutally, that he was left floundering in its absence, lost in a darkness that seemed impenetrable.
She had never seen him like this before. Even in the worst of times, he had always managed to find some glimmer of hope, some reason to keep pushing forward. But now, that strength, that resilience, seemed to have deserted him, leaving only the raw, unfiltered agony of his loss.
He couldn’t stop crying, the sobs tearing through him with a force that made her heart ache. It was as if every tear carried with it a piece of his shattered dream, a fragment of the life he had built around his love for racing. She held him tighter, her own tears falling silently as she pressed her lips to his temple, trying to convey through touch what words could not. She ignored the tension in her muscles as she sat in an uncomfortable way. It didn’t matter now.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered again, her voice barely audible over the sound of his weeping. She wished she could take his pain away, bear the burden for him, if only for a moment. But all she could do was be there, anchoring him in the storm that raged within him, holding him as he cried out the grief that had taken root in his soul.
Minutes passed, though they felt like hours, and slowly, painfully, his sobs began to subside, his body gradually relaxing in her arms. But the tears didn’t stop, and she knew that this was just the beginning—that the road ahead would be long and difficult, filled with moments like this one where the weight of his loss would threaten to crush him.
Logan shifted slightly, his head moving away from her shoulder, creating a small distance between them. His eyes, red and swollen, searched hers, a silent plea lingering in the depths of his gaze. As their eyes met, the vulnerability there was almost unbearable to witness. He blinked, and a few quiet tears slipped free, tracing slow paths down his cheeks. The sight of them, so small yet so heavy with meaning, sent a fresh wave of sorrow through Y/n’s chest.
Without thinking, she raised her hand and gently ran her fingers through his hair, the familiar motion meant to soothe, to comfort. Logan closed his eyes at the touch, leaning into it ever so slightly, as if that simple act could shield him from the harsh reality they were facing.
For a moment, they just sat there, the world outside their little bubble distant and irrelevant. The warmth of her hand in his hair, the soft rise and fall of their breaths, the silent exchange of emotions that words could never quite capture—it all felt like a fragile lifeline, something to hold onto as the storm continued to rage around them.
When Logan finally opened his eyes again, the tears still lingered, but there was something else there too—a glimmer of gratitude, of understanding. It was as if, in that small gesture, Y/n had reminded him that he wasn’t alone in this, that no matter how lost he felt, she would be there, steadfast and unwavering, ready to catch him whenever he stumbled.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he whispered, his voice rough and broken, each word carrying the weight of his fear, his uncertainty.
“That’s okay,” she whispered. “You will figure it out.”
Logan’s gaze softened, and though the sadness in his eyes didn’t disappear, it seemed just a little less overwhelming, as if the burden had lightened, if only by a fraction. He nodded slowly, as if trying to absorb the truth of her words, to let them sink in deep enough to hold onto when the darkness returned.
Y/n leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, letting her lips linger there for a moment, a silent promise that she would be his anchor, his strength, whatever he needed her to be.
“I love you,” she whispered, her voice tender, carrying the weight of everything she felt for him, everything she couldn’t put into words.
Logan’s eyes became blurry again, the tears welling up as the depth of her love, her unwavering support, threatened to overwhelm him. He could feel her lips press softly against his cheekbone, a gentle reminder of her presence, of her unwavering commitment to stand by him no matter how dark the days ahead might be.
He closed his eyes, letting the tears fall freely, but this time there was something different in them—something less rooted in despair and more in the profound sense of being loved, of not having to carry this burden alone. The sensation of her lips against his skin, her breath warm and steady, was an anchor in the storm, grounding him in the here and now, pulling him back from the abyss.
“I love you too,” he managed to whisper, his voice thick with emotion, his heart aching with both the pain of his loss and the overwhelming gratitude he felt for her. He turned his head slightly, just enough to press his own lips to her temple, a quiet gesture of thanks, of love, of everything he couldn’t find the words to express.
Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313@blodwyn4u
#logan sargeant#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one#f1 fanfic#logan sargeant x you#logan sargeant fluff#logan sargeant x reader#formula x reader#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#f1 fluff#f1 x you#f1 fic#fanfic#motorsports#fluff#formula 1 fanfiction#f1 fanfiction
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Recent photo of Alex Turner taken by a fan, 2024
chris_bloodfilms: "It's 2005, a band explodes on MySpace. They're dressed like you and their lyrics are a mirror to your life. Bleeding heck, who the fuck are the Arctic Monkeys?
After 19 years on repeat it's now 2024. Myself and @/conor_bloodfilms are travelling back from Paris
We arrive at Gare Du Nord and Duffy stops in his tracks. He whispers to me "I think that's Alex Turner." "F**k off!" I immediately reply. I gaze over at a guy wearing a leather jacket with long brown hair, his face adorned with aviators. We should probably stop staring as it's getting weird, sexually and aggressively weird.
Turns out it is bloody Alex Turner, the man who's provided the soundtrack to my life! He strolls past and disappears into the Parisian platform crowd. A missed opportunity.
We board our train back to London. We look to our left and there's Alex. Sitting in his seat accompanied by a notepad. He's probably writing the next Arctic Monkeys hit "Two gawping pricks on a train". We really need to stop staring.
I tell Duffers I'm going in, he stops me. Reminds me that I'm a fully functioning adult and not to create a scene. Christ, he's right! I feel like I'm 15 years old again, someone get me a Strongbow and whack Dancing Shoes on, kin hell lad!
Eventually myself and Con engage, it's a surreal experience. Alex is polite and returns conversation in a soft friendly manner. The whole situation is just bloody lovely.
I awkwardly ask if I can take his portrait, fully aware that it could result in an awkward excha"
#arctic monkeys#alex turner#recent pic#omg#this is too crazy#he is so cool#the fans who met him had incredible luck
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WAIT YOU'RE SO BASED,,
Fallen london magnus archives au
everything is worse in almost every way
i know literally nothing about tma but i support this
#THE DYSMORPHIA FEAR... THEY'RE SO COOKED YOU'RE RIGHT#why do my followers turn into greek philosophers discussing the meaning of life or something#specifically whenever the subject is kin assigning my ocs fears#(complimentary)#fallen london#tangentally. not even at this point but i digress#''we're all just piles of flesh walking around'' and it's an eldritch Thing that reshapes the body and exploits insecurity#you're right. they've never been more cooked. overcooked steak could not come close to even a faction of how cooked they'd be#scoundrelventures
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On sightings
It's that blessed time of the year, with eggnog and spice galore?
Anons are never unemployed for long, because - as I always say - the idiots' mother is always pregnant.
To counter Park Anon, perhaps, another casual fan (relevant later) posted a sighting on another one of those FB behemoth fan groups that come with a LOT of small print barking around ('BE KIND! NO BULLYING! NO SPAM! NO ADS!'). That particular group is obviously Spanish/Latino based and that is sort of relevant, in the geopolitics of this fandom:
Anyways, here goes. The woman had no fucking idea of Claire Fraser's civilian name, but was ashamed to admit to it - so long for accuracy, dude:
Her sister is also a member of the group, but curiously enough nobody asked her anything, even if she was there and could have given her own feedback on the whole event. And she did not offer any, even when her next of kin was clawed around by the patrolling Stans Brigade. Perhaps because she's only been a member of the group since December 15, 2024 (her sister, the OG informer, was active in there since August 30 2024, only)?
Anyways, all the obsessive tropes seem to have been thoroughly checked, in that comment thread.
Blonde Bambino? ✅
Tracula? ✅✅- you know that one was coming, right?
The Wookey Hole Caves is an amusement park in Somerset - oh, how convenient:
C might have went with Blonde Bambino and retinue for the Winter Wonderland show - it does make sense.
An easy daytrip from London, too. But it had to be Somerset, for some reason - where C has established no footprint since 2019 and something she never mentions in fan events (even though Tracula's relatives do live in that area - plot thickens). Where no other sighting had been reported since at least the Italian guy taking a fan pic with C, circa 2019-2020 (help me on this one, veterans 😘?).
What stroke me as odd wasn't even the lack of pictures. It would have been very easy to sneak one, since the OG informer's nephew was riding along Blonde Bambino on an age appropriate ride - but hey, let's not nitpick on that one, after all Park Anon didn't have any, either. Also, the OG informer is unsure about Caitriona's name, but knows exactly how old Blonde Bambino is? What about that 'almost 4" - did C casually throw some pebbles along the narrative track, like Hansel in that fairy tale? Isn't Blonde Bambino supposed to be 3 years, 4 months old? How is that 'almost 4'? Was the OG informer using her own deductive skills, based on a ride Verboten sign?
The carousel the Blonde Bambino could not supposedly ride on is this one. It is situated indoors, in the park's Penny Arcade zone, at The Mill (https://www.wookey.co.uk/things-to-do/):
What stroke me as odd is that both the OG Informer and the Riding Toddler's mum are inexplicably elusive about any specific details. I was not expecting a deposition transcript, for sure, but at least a couple of those details that bring warmth, humanity and plausibility to a story. You know, like Park Anon's little girl having a tantrum because she didn't want to go home:
[Source: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/751391542332325888/i-always-read-the-comments-on-sams-posts-because]
Nothing of the sort, here. But if anything, what gave me pause the most is this tiny little tidbit the sanctimonious people across the street do not want you to see:
You read that right. The Perfect Stay-At-Home Dad couldn't be arsed to watch 'his' son on a ride, in an amusement park where things can and do happen. The One Who Always Babysits, even when his 'wife' is clubbing around with her Praetorian Guard (credit given accordingly 😉) in London, knowing perfectly well C has a full time nanny for 'Baba', looked completely disconnected from the scène de genre. So much so, that the OG Informer had nothing else to report.
So which one is it? Was it T, was it someone else from the Praetorian Guard? Does it really, really matter?
All this carefully calibrated story surely made me think about one of the times I lied to a very nice bungalow B&B landlady, somewhere on the coast of the Peloponnese. When our electricity blew out in the middle of the (cold, February) night, I had to call her and explain 'me and my husband' were about to die frozen in her idyllic little orange orchard. My 'husband' was my best gay friend (currently posted somewhere in the Middle East, LOL) and we were very much plastered with excellent wine, which we happily continued to imbibe after the incident was solved. Bless her heart, she did ask me the next time I went there (with Someone, 😱) how was my 'husband' doing. I shamelessly told her we got divorced, in the meanwhile. She smirked and mumbled something like 'eh, diplomats'. LOL.
Double standards are, as always, prosperous across the street. Other than that, may I just add the most recent reviews of the park are ahem, mixed, at best?
Especially, perhaps, this particular review, written by a mom of a three-years old little girl:
[Source: https://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Attraction_Review-g635922-d213489-Reviews-Wookey_Hole_Caves-Wookey_Hole_Somerset_England.html]
I find the management's answer extraordinarily enlightening. They know they have a problem with it. They offer settlement outside of the saloon, perhaps a batch of free tickets and hefty discounts thrown in for good measure. LOL, really LOL.
Hence my question, Your Honor: was it even C? Why would she do that, when she could have easily went to Eurodisney in Paris or any other fabulous London seasonal attraction, of which I am sure there are many? This, by all accounts, sounds more like a sad, rushed and tacky improvisation - again, why? Why on Earth do that to 'Baba'? Why?
Make it make sense, please, because right now it surely doesn't.
I rest my case.
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Hey there! Do you have any refs for fics involving a road trip (extra points if its aziracrow as Angel/demon and not an au altho aus are lovely too!!)
Hi! We have some road trip fics here, and I've got more now...
leave you faithless by midnightbotany (T)
As Aziraphale struggles with the demands of his new role as Supreme Archangel, a heartbroken Crowley embarks on a journey around the world hoping to stop Armageddon. Again.
Where The Furniture Used To Be by Magpie_BKK (T)
The Bentley has mysteriously brought Crowley back to central London, just as an old friend turns up at the bookshop. But not everything is as it appears, and Crowley finds himself on the run with an amnesiac angel, trying to unlock his memories along the way.
The Lost Apostle by miraworos (G)
After a long hiatus, Crowley badgers Aziraphale to go on a road trip with him. But it's more a quest than a road trip, and both Crowley and Aziraphale may be getting into more than they bargained for. Bentley POV.
Waterfall by duustbunny (E)
Two years after Aziraphale accepts the Metatron’s offer, Crowley is captured as he attempts to infiltrate Heaven and Aziraphale is tasked with executing public punishment. Instead, he lets the demon lead him on a quest to recover a lost item that can help them stop the end of the world once more. Because Heaven is not the boss of him anymore, and preventing the Apocalypse will never stop being his and Crowley’s job.
The Journey by ElderlySardine (M)
“Anthony J Crowley… Mayfair, London… Next of kin: Mr A Z Fell…” Crowley nodded. It wasn’t as if he had anyone else. “Emergency contact: also Mr Fell…” Crowley had almost stopped listening. “Relationship to applicant: husband…” “Husband?!” Crowley and Mrs Lowry spoke together as one, for the first and almost certainly the last time in their lives. “Husband.” Crowley recovered first, and fixed Mrs Lowry with a hard stare into which he infused just a little bit of demonic energy. “Is that a problem?” It was a problem. It was Aziraphale's harebrained plan, and it was clearly doomed to failure, as well as embarrassment and ignominy. But since when had Crowley been able to say no to the angel? It was only two weeks, and 3,850 miles. It couldn't be that hard, could it?
hurry back, please bring it back home to me by Percyjacksonfan3 (T)
“Why should I?” The demon interrupts cuttingly. “You’ve made it perfectly clear where your priorities lie and anything I say won’t make a bit of difference.” “That’s not true at all.” Aziraphale replies after a long hurt moment. “And you know it. Besides, you’re being stubborn. You’ll help me eventually.” Rage flashes over Crowley’s face. “You think so, do you?” Aziraphale juts his chin up stubbornly, ignoring the unpleasant feelings Crowley’s expression stirs in him. “Yes.” Aziraphale needs Crowley's help in saving humanity from the Second Coming and despite what happened between them he's determined to get it. After all, it's not only that he needs Crowley, but his plan also includes their car. As for the other matters between the two of them... well there's no reason those can't be sorted out along the way as well, is there? Or, a possible take on Series 3 that includes the Bentley, a resurrected Jesus Christ set on bringing about the End of Days, and an angel and a demon who are stupidly in love with each other but are both suffering from a lack of experience on how to actually deal with said emotions. Emphasis on the stupidly.
- Mod D
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Surely It's Only A Night
Edwin agreed to make the cat king happy. He needed to get back to London and they had one simple rule. No sex. But that feline's got too many words, get's too far in Edwin's head. Oh well, it's only one night.
“I knew you’d come around” The cat king practically purred as he circled Edwin, hand gliding across his shoulders.
Edwin stood still, hands clasped in front of him. He had to get the bracelet off, he needed to get back to London. He’d come to the act king agreeing upon one thing.
It wouldn’t be sex. The cat king could touch him as much as he wanted as long as they didn’t have intercourse. And the feline was more than happy with that.
“I’ve been thinking about this for so long, Edwin” the Cat King whispered against Edwin’s ear as his hands shoved the suit jacket off, letting it thud to the floor. When Edwin had asked to speak, the King brought them to his special spot in the warehouse, with his bed and his candles, and changed into an open black silk robe and pair of silk pajama pants. He thought it was only fair that Edwin shed a few layers.
“Been thinking about how I wanted it. How your lips would feel on mine” he said and leaned up to press their lips together, Edwin gasping slightly and forced himself not to pull back. The cat king was warm and solid like he knew exactly what he was doing.
It was nice, the warm press, the king’s hands on the sides of his face, the warmth that seemed to radiate off the cat.
The Cat King sighed and pulled away, sharp smile on his lips, eyes growing round as he leaned in again. This time Edwin felt the slightly rough rub of warm tongue against his lips, pushing against his teeth till he opened his mouth. The cat king hummed happily, pressing their bodies together as their tongues slipped against each other. The cat’s hands moved to be around Edwin’s neck, pulling him down, pulling him closer. The ghost couldn’t help but touch the body that was pressed up against his, hands landing on the cat king’s hips, his strong thick hips.
As soon as he pulled back Edwin tried to speak, to tell the cat king to just get it over with but he was cut short.
“Cat Kin-” Edwin tried, breathless from the burning kiss, body feeling strangely heavy, oddly hot. The cat just grabbed his jaw, nails, razor sharp, just barely grazing his skin.
“Thomas. Say it.” The cat king growled and watched Edwin’s lips. It confused the ghost, his eyebrows drawing together.
“What? Who’s Thomas?” He asked as the hand on his jaw tightened, nails biting but not quite cutting.
“My name. Call me Thomas, even if we don’t fuck.” The cat king, Thomas, said quietly, eyes flashing up to look at Edwin’s own. The ghost nodded and swallowed, his throat feeling a bit tight.
“Thomas, just get it over with.” He said and Thomas rolled his eyes and patted the ghost’s cheek with a smile.
“No, I want to have some fun. Unwrap my gift.” Thomas said and undid Edwin’s bow tie, flicking it away before working on his shirt buttons, walking them backwards toward the round bed.
Edwin held onto the cat’s arms, keeping his balance as their lips met again. He was clumsy on his feet, trying to keep their lips together as Thomas unbuttoned his shirt and shoved them both backwards.
“I think we should be on the same playing field. You can touch me if you want, and I know you want to” Thomas whispered into Edwin’s ear as his hands got the shirt undone and started running up and down the ghost’s sides.
Edwin gasped, Thomas had rough palms, rough and warm and strong and was touching everywhere. Roaming from low on his stomach up to his chest, fingers rolling over his nipples, back to lightly scratch down his back. It was intoxicating and stimulating like nothing else.
“I’ve dreamed of your skin against mine. How it would feel in my hands, under my lips.” Thomas said quietly and pushed Edwin to sit down on the bed, climbing into his lap. Edwin was panting, breath coming quickly as Thomas’s hands cradled his jaw bringing them back together for a kiss, tongue swirling into Edwin’s mouth.
Edwin’s eyes closed, trying to memorize all the input he was getting. The feeling of another man on top of him, the weight and warmth of someone so close to him, the way the cat’s tongue swirled and felt in his own mouth, a strange yet addictive feeling.
Thomas moved down, lips moving to Edwin’s ear, suckling on lobe for a moment before moving to his jaw to his neck. Hands still feeling up and down the ghost’s body, pressing down onto his lap.
“So soft, touch me back Edwin. Touch me here” Thomas said and in a puff of smoke his own measly clothes were washed away leaving him in tight black boxer briefs. They were moved on the round bed, Edwin sitting in the center of it, now void of socks and shoes, with Thomas in his lap.
He grabbed Edwin’s hand and brought it to his chest, guiding it to the side of his pec.
Edwin let his hand roam the cat king's chest and muscled stomach. His pants were tighter than tight, his head full of shame and lust. He loved knowing what another man felt like, his sturdy and solid body. To know what another man’s…member felt like against his own. A bit. It was through layers of fabric but it was astounding to feel the stiffness against his own.
“Feels so good Edwin, doesn’t it? When I finally have you, I’ll take my time, lay you down and show you how good I can make you feel…” Thomas said his hands roamed rubbed across Edwin’s chest before he was moving again, a puff of purple and he was sitting behind Edwin on his knees, nude chest to the top of his thighs pressing against Edwin’s back.
“I’d start with your lips, moving down your body, across your chest, down to bite at your hips, marking you the entire time.” Thomas said as he ran his hands down Edwin’s body. When he reached the ghost’s hips he undid Edwin’s pants, pushing them down a bit.
Edwin was gasping at the sensations and grabbing onto the bedding. He felt almost dizzy with each filthy word that was spoken against the nape of his neck, the almost ticklish graze of the king’s lips and his hot breath.
“Then I’d get on my knees, kiss and suck at the soft tender skin of your thighs as my hands slowly traced up and down your cock. It’d be so hard for me, just like right now” Thomas said and couldn’t help the way his hips pressed against Edwin’s back, his hand finally wrapping around Edwin’s hard cock.
Edwin moaned, hips pitching back, pulling away. But Thomas licked his ear and started an even rhythm stroking him.
“So hot, so hard, I knew you wanted me. I knew you liked me back. Oh when I get my way… won’t leave bed for weeks” Thomas purred as his own hips followed a more frantic rhythm, rubbing through his own underwear against the ghost’s back. He leaned his chin over Edwin’s shoulder, looking down at the cock in his hand, the body he’d been craving.
“Thomas this is-“ Edwin gasped out as he started to feel like he would explode. He held on tightly to the bedding, sounds bursting from his mouth without consent. It was allconsuming, like his every sense was changed to focus solely on the pleasure that was rocking through him.
“Feels good doesn’t it? Wait till I get my mouth on you, I’ll suck it next time, show you what I can do with my tongue, get it down my throat. Fuck, I want it in me.” Thomas purred as his hand glided over Edwin’s cock, hand twisting in the most perfect way with a solid grip and the occasional swipe over the head, taking in the size and girth, mind saving it for later.
Edwin moaned and turned to try and see the cat, his scruff rough against Edwin’s own soft cheek. Thomas took pity on him and leaned up enough for their lips to meet again, all open mouthed and noisy as the cat’s body never still, his hand speeding up.
“Oh ah- Thomas!” Edwin cried out when he finally felt his body slip away from him, physical needs overtaking his mind, eyes slamming shut as his mouth hung open. It was a heavy yet lighter than air feeling, something that was shocking and melting his very being.
“You’d do that for me wouldn’t you? You’d let me have a treat, riding your cock, right? I’d be so good, love getting a nice hot cock inside. We’d break the fucking bed, Edwin. Love it so much, you’d get fucking hooked” Thomas said lowly as his free hand that had been playing with Edwin’s chest wrapped around his own cock. He cherished the feeling of his lover twitching and spilling over his fist, the moans gasping breaths Edwin was taking was enough for the cat to cum, teeth sinking into Edwin’s shoulder.
It was so much better than Thomas had imagined, so much more intimate. He loved playing with his partners but it was more than that, this wasn’t just one of his fuck pals, this was right and proper Edwin Payne, straight and narrow Edwin. The release was so much stronger, the orgasm longer and more breathtaking, his heart was pounding like it never did.
“Thomas, let go please.” Edwin asked and gently pulled the cat's hand away from his groin. He leaned back and smiled at the glowy magical feeling that was simmering through him and the loud vibrating purring happening behind him. He felt… brand new. Shiny and far more clear headed than he had felt in weeks.
“What a mess” Edwin said finally and looked down at himself for only a half second before a puff of smoke and they were cuddling in their underwear on the bed, any dampness washed away without trace.
Thomas had his head rested on Edwin’s chest, now donned in a soft blue tshirt. His nail traced lines over it without any real pattern.
“Felt good didn’t it? I told you it would be worth your while.” Thomas said and leaned up on one arm to look down at the content look on Edwin’s face. The ghost rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile on his lips.
“It was certainly more than I anticipated but not… unwanted.” Edwin said and felt his face turn hot, knowing he couldn’t blush but still feeling embarrassed. Thomas smiled and laughed out before sitting up beside Edwin’s hip, facing him.
“Yeah I knew you wanted it. I knew! You like me back. Do you want to do anything else? When can we do it again?” Thomas asked with a wide smile, teeth catching the light coming from his neon sign. Edwin took his time looking across the cat’s body, noting every small thing, the few scars that marred him, the fuzzy soft looking hairs on his thighs, the way his underwear hugged his bulge in a way Edwin had never seen before, soft and oddly attractive.
“It has only sparked more questions in me than anything else.” Edwin said truthfully and reached out to run his fingers down the warm forearm that was holding Thomas up. The cat smiled and leaned down, nosing at Edwin’s cheek, whispering into his ear.
“What questions? I can show you the answers.” Thomas said quietly, his free hand splaying across Edwin’s chest and sternum, rubbing slowly up and down. Edwin took in a shaky breath as the cat rubbed his face against his own, nose and lips and scruff all tickling and exciting.
“Is it true? You enjoy… being with men?” Edwin said, embarrassment burning hotly in his chest. He couldn’t help it, the thoughts that were floating around his mind made him feel hungry in a way. And the sharp wide smile Thomas wore didn’t help as he looked down at Edwin’s face.
“I’m with you right now. But I assume your precious little vocabulary meant do I enjoy getting fucked by men. Am I correct, dear Edwin?” Thomas asked, dirty words flowing easily from his throat. He looked at Edwin’s body, giving Edwin a moment of relief from his gaze.
“Yes, you are correct.” Edwin answered tightly, he kept his eyes down, not wanting to see the pure glee in the cat’s eyes.
“Aw Edwin, of course I do. Nothing I love more than being played with, a little rough play, you know. It’s a pleasure that feels good no matter what form it takes. A big solid man holding you face down on the bed, using you however he wants… Sharing a first time with someone special, clumsy and fun… even using toys it feels good, all by yourself alone with your imagination or showing off your skill. I love getting filled Edwin, no matter what.” Thomas said quietly, small smile on his face as his eyes closed, envisioning each scenario with Edwin. It was something he did often, and fondly.
Edwin listened in rapture till Thomas looked back down at him and the ghost cocked his head to the side, confusion easily readable on his face.
“What do you mean ‘toys’?” He asked without thinking, needing to know. He wanted to know and for some reason his lips moved on their own, maybe it was the floaty feeling that was still rolling over him. Maybe it was the way the cat’s eyes sparkled happily as a wild smile spread on his face.
“I’ll show you. I have quite the collection.” Thomas said, moving to the edge of the bed on his hands and knees, back to Edwin. The cat reached down over the side of the bed to the floor, grabbing a small trunk from underneath.
The position caught Edwin’s eyes, Thomas’s knees were spread as his shoulders dropped low, almost even with them. Edwin almost wanted to reach out to feel how the cat’s skin felt, even over his cherry red underwear. He couldn’t draw his gaze away from the round globes of the other boy’s rear, he’d never seen a man like this, never known how attractive a bulge looked in tight red cotton, especially not from the back. It was something that ramped up that hunger like nothing else.
Thomas could feel the eyes on him, caressing him, he could feel all of it. He arched his back more than necessary as he let Edwin oogle him for a long moment. He finally sat back up, trunk in hand, he looked over his shoulder, putting on his pretty posture as he knelt on the edge of the bed.
“I feel I’m being watched. Don’t you want to touch me Edwin? You can. You can grab me, grope me, play with me anyway you want. I know you’re curious, use me to quench that hunger you have.” Thomas said over his shoulder, keeping his back arched putting his ass on display. He flexed, watching Edwin’s eyes travel to each muscle before landing back at the cat’s bottom. The ghost took a big breath, before looking back at Thomas’s face, and his smug grin.
“What do you have there?” Edwin asked after a thick swallow. He sat up, scooting back so he was sitting against the wall with his legs crossed. Niko had toys, plush creatures and little robotic animals, she had told Edwin about all sorts of toys and games. He was unsure how sex and those went together but he wanted to learn.
Thomas huffed from being still untouched and turnt kneeling to face Edwin, trunk sitting on the bed between them. With a puff of smoke the lid popped open and the cat’s proud grin grew.
“These are my toys. Sex toys, of course. I wouldn’t keep my yarn balls in here.” Thomas explained pulling out phallic shapes and setting them where Edwin couldn't see. The ghost’s eyebrows shot up. Sex toys? What made the difference between toys and sex toys?
When Thomas was content he closed the lid of the trunk and bit his lip, eyes meeting Edwin’s.
“These go in… any hole works….” The cat purred and set a few much too realistic phalluses onto the lid of the trunk. There were two that had balls and one, much larger than the first two, that was the size of Edwin’s forearm. They were all too realistically flesh colored with veins running down the shafts and deep rose colored tips.
“Edwin, they aren’t going to hurt you. Don’t look so scared. They’re just plastic. Though these are my favorites they do look a bit… daunting. Don’t they?” Thomas said and picked up the biggest one, stroking as if it was a real cock. Edwin’s eyes were wide as he felt a pattering inside his chest, nervous and embarrassed but… the tightness in his pants was all too telling. Thomas took a second to play with the toy before he was putting them back in the trunk, most of them back in the trunk. The smaller of the three was sat where Edwin couldn’t see it between the cat’s knees and the trunk.
“Those are not toys.” Edwin finally gasped out and Thomas threw his head back laughing at the ghost’s obviously very shaken up demeanor.
“You play with them, they are toys. Don’t you know how to play like that? It’s the same if you had a partner. Have to get everything slick and ready, haven’t you ever… tried?” Thomas said and leaned over the trunk, getting in Edwin’s space, one hand holding himself up against the mattress while the other slid over the inside of Edwin’s thigh.
The ghost shivered, leaning forward just for their faces to be closer. Close enough for the cat to lean in for a kiss, a slow kiss that ended up full of tongue as his hand rubbed up and down the inside of Edwin’s thigh, sliding up just far enough to tease. When they pulled apart, just a breath away, Thomas looked into his eyes.
Edwin was enraptured by the way Thomas’s eye had grown dark and round, barely any gold left around them.
“Do you want me to show you?” The cat asked quietly, the words fanning across the ghost’s face.
Edwin was quick to shake his head but Thomas cupped his jaw and gave him a smile. His confidence was calming as he brought their lips back together.
“On me, I’ll show you on me. I want it so bad Edwin, it’ll be a nice little show.” Thomas explained, lips tracing from Edwin’s ear to his mouth before sitting back. He waited for an answer, patient and content with looking at his partner.
“I suppose, if you want, I wouldn’t mind it…” Edwin said and looked to the side away from the cat. Thomas smiled and put the trunk back on the floor and with a puff of smoke, his underwear was discarded and there were a few other items sitting on the bed next to the dildo.
“Do you like the view? You can kiss me if I stay like this.” Thomas said and raised up on his knees, body on display. Edwin’s mouth hung open as he leaned to be closer.
Thomas was like nothing he’d ever seen, muscular like a sculpture, skin smooth and soft, thighs fuzzy in a soft way, and cock hard where it leaned against his thigh. He got to look his fill, having only ever seen glaces and the briefest looks at naked men. He’d gotten just a taste but now he had a buffet laid in front of him. He didn’t want to touch the cat though, fearing he would do something untoward.
“Or…” Thomas hummed and sat down on his knees and ran his hands over himself a few times, putting on a proper show before rolling onto his belly. He put himself in the same position that had Edwin so shaken up in the first place, shoulders to the bed, back arched, knees spread, ass high in the air. He even reached back and using one hand spread himself before drawing his hands back down, letting Edwin have his time.
Edwin gasped a bit as he felt like the wind leaving him. Seeing Thomas like this with his underwear on was… it was attractive, pretty even, but like this? Nude and on display…. It was dizzyingly arousing, it was tempting and sinful.
“Do you still want a show, Edwin?” Thomas asked and reached over to grab a small bottle and a wrapper of something. Edwin swallowed and nodded, then realizing with the cat’s face shoved down, he couldn’t really see.
“Y-yes. Please.” Edwin stuttered, he felt drunk nearly, high on everything happening to him, everything he was seeing for the first time. It was intoxicating.
“Oh so polite, you can still touch me if you want.” Thomas offered and covered his fingers in lube and reached under himself, finding his hole. It was something easy, something he had done a million times over, but now with Edwin’s gaze heavy on him, it was all the more pleasing. He slipped one finger in and savored the gasp that the ghost let out.
“Does that really-” Edwin started to ask but was cut off by Thomas humming and huffing out a laugh.
“Feels kinda weird, to be honest. The lube is usually cold and it’s not filling. But it makes it so it won’t hurt when something substantial goes in. It’s easy for me, I was made to get fucked, Edwin.” Thomas explained as another finger joined the first. They only made him more cock hungry, not enough and his fingers could never quite reach the best parts of himself. He was spurred on when the bed shifted and Edwin moved to kneel behind him, close enough to really see.
“May I?” Edwin said so quiet regular people would have never heard him. But the cat king did. He heard it in perfect clarity. The cat moaned and nodded, pulling his hand away from himself.
“Mhm, here put this on your fingers, start with three.” Thomas said with a hurry and shoved the small bottle of lube into the ghost’s hands. He got back in perfect position, back arched deeply with his hands by his face. He could hear Edwin’s brain spinning and whirling, it only took a whine and a little shake of his hips to get the other boy in gear.
“Three?” Edwin asked shakily as he dripped the slippery clear substance onto his fingers. It was cold and felt odd, he almost wanted to taste it but there were far more pressing matters. He only took a moment to take one big deep breath before he touched Thomas, fingers landing where the cat’s own had just been.
He pressed in gently, breath catching when his fingers sank into the burning hot clutch of the king’s body. He was astonished as his fingers sank in all the way without much resistance.
“You were made for this. Amazing” Edwin said quietly as he drew his fingers back out only to press them back in, twisting his wrist and spreading his fingers to see the way Thomas’s hole adapted to it easily. He couldn’t help the grin on his face as his one hand dove in and out of the king, relishing in the impossibly tight warmth there, as his other hand felt up and down those fuzzy soft thighs and ass. He felt the soft give that hid the strong muscles of that round lovely ass. He was in a drunken daze, a sweet stupor.
Thomas was biting the bedding as his toes curled, his cock was leaking onto the bedding, and his every nerve was on fire. It was so much more than what he was used to. It wasn’t rough or fast or bad, it was exploring and careful yet testing. Edwin had such long fingers, reaching those good spots Thomas never could. He was dying with pleasure, holding out till he was nearest to cumming. He finally released the blanket from between his teeth to push at Edwin’s arm.
“Enough. Enough, Edwin. Hold on I have to, fuck you’re good at that, gimme a second” Thomas panted out grabbing the dildo and condom packet, keeling back up for a second. His hands were shaking and he was sweating, he was more than aroused or horny or turned on or anything else. He was with Edwin, he was getting played like a banjo by a ghost and he was very very okay with it. Especially when Edwin’s shirtless chest was pressing against his back, then arms wrapped around him, and finally his chin was resting on the king’s shoulder, watching his hands tremble.
“You’re shaking.” Edwin said quietly, his own hands sliding down the cat’s arms till his hands were on top of Thomas’s. They stayed like that for a long moment, Thomas’s breath coming in short as his head laid back against Edwin.
“Do you want me to do it?” Edwin asked and Thomas was nodding, handing the latex wrapped toy over to his partner. He got back in position but Edwin’s hands were pushing at his shoulders and hip.
“Maybe another way, so I can see you better.” Edwin said and Thomas happily rolled onto his back, eye’s finding the ghost’s. Edwin leaned down and kissed him, a slow and tongue filled kiss. Thomas whined and looked down at himself.
“Fill me up, put it in, Edwin, I need it” Thomas begged and rolled his hips against the bed. The ghost swallowed and nodded. He nodded to himself once more and took a hold on the toy, finding it strange to hold.
He pressed the head to the king’s wet hole, just barely any pressure at first but when the tip slipped in, Thomas moaned and Edwin pressed it in faster till it sat flush inside. Thomas was moaning, thighs shaking a bit, hands clenching against the bed chest heaving.
“I’ll go slow” Edwin said, trying to be reassuring but then the cat’s lips were curving up into a dangerous smile.
“Fuck me, Edwin. Make me cum on that big hard cock.” Thomas purred, spreading his legs further, his hands going to the sides of Edwin’s face, pulling him in for a kiss. The ghost hummed into the kiss but when he pulled back and looked down at the toy in his hands. He didn’t quite know how he was to do it but so far he was doing well, surely Thomas would say something if he didn’t enjoy what they were doing.
“I like it rough, Edwin” The cat said quietly with a smile, teeth glinting in the neon light.
“Very well then” Edwin said and pulled the toy out faster than he would have. He watched in amazement as he shoved it back inside, causing the king to moan and his hips to buck. He watched the way Thomas’s body moved and rolled with each thrust of the toy, moans flowing from his lips. The cat made higher and higher noises till Edwin was sure he was going to hurt his vocal chords.
“Fuck! Oh Edwin, Baby, Come here, come here” Thomas said and reached up pulling Edwin down for an open mouthed kiss. He moaned into it, arms wrapping around the ghost’s shoulders, hands spaying over the cold skin offered to him. When the razor bite of cat claws dug into Edwin’s back he could only freeze and hope Thomas would stop before he really hurt the ghost.
Thomas yelled out, legs tensing up, holding Edwin down as he buried his face in the ghost’s neck. He panted, chest struggling for air, his eyes squeezed shut. He felt so much more than what he usually did. He was floating and drowning, overfed and starved, breathless and gasping. He didn’t feel anything other than the rolling pleasure and thumping of his heart, his eyes opened but unseeing, ears deaf to the world. It was… magic.
“Please let go, Thomas. Your nails.” Edwin bit out when he couldn’t move without those poison nails moving or digging in. The cat was purring like a motor, vibrating the bed, it was calming. Edwin finally pulled the toy away, rubbing up and down the outside of Thomas’s thigh, trying to get him to come back to his senses.
“You like it” Thomas finally said dopily and pulled his hands away, waving away the nail marks with a slight sizzle and pop of smoke.
Edwin took a relieved breath and sat back up on his knees, looking down at the king. He couldn’t quite stop himself from using one finger and tracing through the creamy spend pooling in the dips of the king’s abs. He brought it up to his eyes, feeling the odd slippery texture, almost wanting a taste.
“If you lick that, I’m actually going to cum again. Are you trying to kill me, Edwin?” Thomas said as he snapped and the cum was vanishing away. Edwin frowned briefly but then looked back at the very disheveled and very nude cat king. He cleared his throat and looked away, face feeling boiling hot. He grabbed the blanket and tried to cover his nude chest as he searched for the shirt he’d pulled off in the heat of the moment.
“Oh please. After what we just did, you’re still worried about modesty?” Thomas said sarcastically and then with a heavier smoke cloud they were dressed in pajamas. Thomas in a black silken set of shorts and a blouse and Edwin in a traditional striped long sleeve and pants.
“Stay for the night. Stay for just the night longer, with me, Edwin” Thomas said as he laid down, head on the pillow. He almost looked… coy. Shy. It was something that had Edwin smiling, rolling his eyes.
“I suppose I can stay here till morning.” Edwin said and happily got under the blankets, joyous when the cat pushed and pulled their bodies so Edwin was pressed against Thomas’s back, cuddled close with a warm welcoming purring body. Thomas dimmed the light till it was a faint glow keeping the room visible.
It was warm and sweet and Edwin felt as though he could sleep. It was easy to simply turn his head off and enjoy the close company and relaxed feeling still filling his body. He would leave in the morning, as soon as the sun rose.
“Edwin! Where have you been?!” Charles yelled as he ran up and hugged his confused looking friend. Crystal held her hands out for an answer too.
“I was only gone for a night, do calm down.” Edwin said, trying to keep an even and unreadable expression on his face. He only hoped the goodbye kiss Thomas had drawn him into was obvious.
“It’s been two weeks, mate.” Charles said, voice heavy with concern.
“It’s been what?!” Edwin said, suddenly filled with anger. That cat king had trapped him in that sex nest for how long?
#egg_company#fanfic#smut tag#dead boy detectives fanfic#dead boy detectives#dead boy detective agency#the cat king#edwin x thomas#thomas the cat king#edwin x the cat king#edwin payne
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