#Need to pick Turkish up again for my friend

[an-archii]

Guess who maybe kinda definitely started learning Arabic.

Me.

It's me.

@duothelingo are you proud? I'm on my 8th language course (don't ask if I've completed any of them yet, you don't wanna know)

[silverzoomies]

Turkish Delight

peter maximoff x reader smut

chapter 1: sweet talkin'

link to chapter 2: here

warnings: shameless smut, porn without plot, phone sex, mutual masturbation, best friends, dirty talk

word count: 6,368

a/n: hiyaaa !! i'm back with more filth !! peter speaks russian in this one. i've seen people use russian in place of sokovian language before. and since i've been learning russian for a while, i thought i'd give it a shot !! if you're familiar with the language and anything seems off, please let know asap !! as usual, apologies if peter seems ooc, or if my writing isn't up to par !!

tag list (if i forgot you, please remind me !!): @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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Chillaxing on the sofa in his mom’s basement, Peter drew out a sigh. His hooded eyes gaped at the TV screen. As he channel surfed, his thumb tapped lazily on the remote. Peter stopped to check each channel in abrupt intervals. Afternoon cable was boring as hell today. It failed to grasp his short lived attention span.

Seinfeld reruns? He saw just about all of ‘em. Soap Operas? Those were more his mom’s thing. Huge pass. Nature documentaries? Could be cool. Guess it depended on which one, though.

Oh. It was the one about the polar bear’s great journey across the arctic! Nifty enough. Except, Peter saw that one three or four times already now. Скучный (boring). Так скучно (So boring).

‘Kay, soooo…TV was kind of a no-go. Instead, Peter popped on the PS1 and settled for a game of Metal Gear Solid. The game’s opening intro was a little too slow for his liking, but Peter forced himself to focus. It sucked he was so antsy today, so fidgety and impatient. He needed some kind of distraction. Any distraction. And he needed one fast.

Peter bounced a leg, half invested in the game’s dialogue. His fingers absentmindedly flicked the controller buttons. Not even five minutes into playing, he found himself frustrated and bored again. This time around, he figured some company might ease his ennui.

He darted across the arm of the couch to a side table. Over a stack of comic books and empty cans of soda, he snatched the receiver to a Garfield phone. Peter dialed a number in less than a second. Too fast, at first. The phone didn’t even register his request. Rolling his eyes, he dialed the number again. Slower this time.

Peter kept the vibrant hunk of orange plastic between his cheek and shoulder. Buzzy ringing echoed on the other end of the line, as he waited for the recipient to pick up. The time it took for a voice to finally respond felt like fifty billion years. Your voice. One of Peter’s closest comrades. The pal he shared most, if not all, of his free time with.

There were days when you visited, and you laid back on the sofa with him. With your legs stretched over his lap and a magazine in your hands, you relaxed. Peter would always do his usual, playing whatever game he ‘bought’ from the local K-Mart. Every time he cursed himself for making a misstep, you giggled. You knew how frustrating it was for him, if he wasn't a hundred leaps ahead of everything. And just to get back at you - but also to hear you laugh again - he’d reach over and dig his fingers into your belly.

He loved that it took such minimal effort to make you laugh. You always had an easygoing warmth about you. And maybe you were also pretty cute too. Sometimes, the crook of your smile made him blush. Oh, and you didn't mind duking it out in Mario Kart sometimes. That was also kinda cool. What more could a lonesome guy ask for? Просто друзья. Ничего больше (Just friends. Nothing more). Yeah. He could be content with that. No problem.

Ten minutes into conversation with you, Peter breathed a yawn into the receiver.

“You know, I’m surprised you have the patience for talking on the phone.” You joked.

The speakers roared with a soft buzz in his ear. Peter didn’t register your words at first. Blinking lazily, he tapped the PS1 controller buttons at rapid speed. In the game, Snake fought off an onslaught of bad guys. Peter faked his offense with a scoff.

“Seriously? Man, what’s up with that? It’s like everyone thinks I can’t do stuff at normal speed without goin’ berserk.” He said, cursing under his breath as Snake got gunned down again.

A small part of him wished you were there, with your legs over his lap, cracking jokes at his expense. Over the phone, you emitted a gentle laugh.

“Because you have? Multiple times, dude!” You said.

Surely you could hear Peter’s eyes roll in his skull.

“Oh, yeah? Name five.” he pressed.

The fast paced clicking of the buttons echoed like a trill in the basement. He overheard the sound of rustling as you shifted in place. If Peter had to guess, he’d bet his left foot you were still lazing around in bed. It was a Saturday, after all. With the hour tipping on the edge of late afternoon. You always moved at the slowest of speeds on your off days.

“I’m just saying! I totally get it. Even I don’t have the patience for chats on the phone sometimes.” You said, and a squeaky yawn followed.

More rustles scuffed from your end, as if you moved to stretch. Keeping his gaze fixed on the flickering, CRT screen; Peter followed flashes of light from each grunt’s gun. His reaction time proved effortless as always. His methods, not so much.

“Nah, it’s cool.” Peter mumbled after a beat, “Doesn’t bother me much if I’m talkin’ to you.  You’re not boring, first of all. And on the off chance I do get bored, I can just say - hey, babe, I’m gonna hang up. And you won’t get-uhhh…” He lingered on his next thought, distracted with gunning down more masked baddies, “You won’t get, like, butt hurt over it."

“Why would I?” You laughed, “Did someone seriously get offended by that?”

“My aunt did once. She got mad pissed ‘cuz I told her I was ‘kinda bored’ on the phone. She made me pass it to my mom, so she could rat me out. Said I showed a ‘lack of consideration'; ‘er whatever.” Peter paused, brows furrowed. In Metal Gear, Snake perished yet again. Peter rolled his eyes once more, “She’s kinda mental, though. это возмутительно (it’s outrageous).”

Your only response was a quiet hum of acknowledgement. Peter broke the silence that followed.

“Hey, you’re not busy today, are you? Wanna do somethin’ later?” He asked, knowing full well you had jack shit to do.

“I don’t know. I’m feeling soooooo lazy today.” You playfully teased.

The soft pattern of your breathing sent electric tingles down Peter’s neck. Shuddering, he shook off those unexpected chills. Another beat, and Peter groaned, as Snake perished over a low poly landscape. You gotta take it slow and stealthy, man - Peter reminded himself.

“Хорошо (okay)? So? Come be lazy over here then.” He replied, “Tell you what. If you do, I’ll go ‘n snag some of those Turkish delights you like. The same ones my mom gotcha for your birthday. Remember? From Sokovia?”

Your voice perked up instantly, bringing a cheesy smile to his face. Homely fondness simmered in his chest, and Peter felt himself blush. He pulled his lip between his teeth, pausing his game to focus more on conversation. Leaving Snake stranded in the middle of the snow.

“Oh my gosh!! No way?? I haven’t had those in forever! Seriously, the ones from Sokovia?” You chimed.

“Hell yeah! But you gotta get outta bed first, dingus. C’monnnn.” Peter whined, “I’m so bored here, babe. Oh! I totally forgot. I finally got my hands on a Gameboy Color too. Swear on my life I paid for it this time. You could come over ‘n try it ouuuuuut.” He teased in a sing-song voice, wiggling his brows.

“Gameboys and Turkish delights? You’re spoiling me today, Peter! What’s the occasion?” You joked over the line.

He shrugged, forgetting you couldn’t see him, “Bored outta my friggin’ skull. That’s what.” After a beat, he awkwardly added, “And maybe I like hangin’ with you? Do I even need a reason?”

“Well, I gotta admit…you had me at Turkish delights.” You feigned a dreamy tone.

Peter chuckled again. Under his breath, he muttered softly, “ Это все, что тебе нужно, да (That’s all you need, huh)?”

“Huh?” You asked, oblivious to his comment, “What’d you say? I didn’t catch that last part.”

Peter ran a hand through his silver locks, leaving his hair loose and messy. Cradling the phone in his other hand, he knitted his lips to one side.

“Nothin’. Don’t worry about it. You want me to come get you? ‘Cuz I can.” He checked his digital watch, decked out in a Star Wars theme, “I can right now, if you-”

“It’s fine. I love going out with you, but I really don’t wanna deal with motion sickness today. I just had lunch too. No offense!” Another yawn rang over the phone, hitching into a squeal at the end. Peter didn’t realize he was smiling so big until his cheeks started to hurt, “I’ll just drive over. Sound good?”

Peter rolled his eyes, sarcastically groaning. He threw his head back into the sofa cushions, playing up his fake frustrations.

“Auuuuuuugh! But that’ll take years.” He dragged a hand down his face, pulling his cheeks under his fingertips, “Is this ‘cuz you blew chunks last time?? You know that doesn’t bother me, right? Everyone does it, babe.”

You made a noise of disgust. Something like an eugh , “Please, don’t remind me. That sucked so much. Yeah, no, I’d rather not. I really need a break from it.” You sighed again. Kind of a bummer, but he could deal.

“It’s whatever you want, I guess. So, when are you gonna head out?” Peter asked, sitting up on the sofa and putting the controller aside.

He bounced a leg at rapid speed, his knee moving in a flesh tone blur of motion. Less from agitation, more due to anticipation.

“I’ll leave soon. Just give me a few minutes. Think you can wait?” You chuckled in that sweet, quirky way again. The melody gave Peter butterflies. Ignoring the fluttering in his belly, he pushed himself off the couch. Grabbing the base of the Garfield phone, Peter cradled the lil guy in an arm. He figured he may as well get dressed, and freshen up before you arrived, “It’s so cold today. I haven’t even gotten out of bed yet! I’m still bundled up in my undies. Got your jacket on too. You left a Game n Watch in the pocket, by the way. I didn’t even know they still made those!”

“Yeah. I totally called that one. Get up already, ya slacker.” Peter joked trapping the phone between his cheek and shoulder again. He scratched his bare chest. His fingertips grazed the sparse covering of white hairs there. Yawning, he nodded, “Okay. Okay. Okay. Sure, just-”

Something about your last statement finally clicked in Peter’s brain. He rapidly blinked, shaking his head fast enough to give himself whiplash. Peter did a quadruple take.

“Подожди (wait)! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, waiiiiiit …hold on a sec.” He narrowed his eyes, “Say that again?”

“Say what again? The part about the Game n Watch?” You asked, and Peter’s brows furrowed.

“N-Nah. The…did you just…have you been lyin’ around in your underwear this whole time?”

“Uh, yeah? Why? Is this revolutionary information?” You chuckled.

“In my jacket? Like, I didn’t hear that wrong? What’d you like…sleep in it ‘er somethin’?” Peter arched a silver brow, pressing the phone handset closer to his cheek. As if doing so might somehow help him hear you more clearly.

It really wasn’t that big of a deal either way. You borrowed his jackets all the time. Peter never thought anything of it before this conversation. Aside from the fact that - when you did return them, he loved the sweet scent you left behind. The smell of your perfume, with the added bonus of your natural pheromones…

Ебать (Fuck)! Why was he even thinking about this? The two of you had such a casual thing goin’ on. But now, Peter thought of you in a different light. Something friskier. Not that he meant to. Maybe killer boredom + cute friend = horny speedster. Or perhaps the planets aligned in some totally off-the-wall way.

Whatever the case, Peter’s mind raced on autopilot. He pictured the way you might look right now. In your room, spread across your bed in nothing but your underwear and - Ебена мать (Holy shit) - his jacket. With your long legs bare, your knees bumping together as you squeezed your thighs shut. Tummy exposed. And your tits-

Woooooooah there! Slow down, casanova! Peter shouldn’t be…nah, he really shouldn’t be wondering what your breasts looked like. Ppfffbbbbt …’kay, so, maybe in the past he thought about it once or twice. But what dude wouldn't contemplate the hidden mystery of a pal's titties sometimes, ah?

“Well, so what if I did? That doesn’t weird you out, does it?” You asked, a careful waver in your voice.

“Uhhhh…nahhh, babe. Just…” Peter shifted in place, rerouting his thoughts, “Just…got one hell of an image in my head. Might’ve pictured you like that for no particular reason at all.”

Lucky for him, you didn’t seem to think anything of his confession.

“Not much to imagine…” You replied. Сомнительно (Doubtful).

“I mean…pffbbbttt…sure, yeah. Maybe not.” Peter awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of his neck. His voice dropped, a little more hushed, “Unless…you’re wearin’ some really cute panties over there.” Again, he laughed, rushing out a quick, “I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m totally messin’. Just bustin’ your balls, babe.”

Except…he sorta wasn’t. Peter found himself oh-so curious. Twisting the phone's orange wire around his finger, he anticipated your reaction. Anxious you might think him weird for pushing things too far. Never had the two of you charted this kind of territory. It was a minefield, with a 95% chance neither one would make it out unscathed.

“I guess? I think they’re kind of cute.” You added, innocent as ever. Awesome. You weren’t peeved at him, at least. Peter brought the phone to his chest, exhaling an anxious breath to calm his racing heart. When he put the phone to his ear again, he figured you’d moved on. But your cadence shifted. To test the boundaries of your friendship, you teased, “They’re pretty small on me, though.”

Ah. Ah. Интересно. Очень интересно (Interesting. Very interesting). What an unexpected but totally wicked development. Peter lowered himself slowly onto the couch, setting the phone's base on the side table. He eased backwards into the cushions, and tightened his twisting of the phone wire. Swallowing hard, Peter found he had difficulty focusing. Especially with his imagination running so goddamn wild.

“Yeah? …How small is pretty small?” He dared to ask.

Long seconds of silence ticked by at the pace of a narcoleptic sloth. If Peter weren’t so eager to hear what you had to say, he may have torn his hair out. Over the line, you laughed.

“Small enough they barely cover my ass? Why are you so curious all of a sudden?” You cooed.

Peter fluttered his inky eyes, nibbling chapped skin on his lip. Fuzzy pink swarmed the rest of his face, as his mind conjured images of you so effortlessly. Clear as day. Heat stirred to life in his groin, and Peter pictured the way your plush cheeks might hold in tight painties. His breath hitched.

“I-uh…” Peter felt the heat in his cheeks creep down his neck, flustered at lightspeed, “Just thinkin’...maybe you should do somethin’ about that?” He gritted his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. What a lame response, “Черт возьми (damn it)!” He huffed under his breath, too quiet for you to hear.

Toying with this newly discovered sexual tension, Peter humorously asked-

“Sooooooo…what color?”

You giggled into the receiver, airy and light. His body registered the noise somewhere , down south of his belly. He wondered if you were as flustered as him. And the visual of your bashful face and shy smile had his heartbeat ramping up to mach 10.

“What? A-Are you for real asking me…oh my god, dude!” Your giggles turned into goofy snorts. Which he found so endearing. Once you composed yourself, you spoke again. Though, your tone came off as more flirtatious, “If you really wanna know so bad…then fine. They’re black. Lacy. With a little bow on the front.”

Дерьмо (Shit)...

His silver brows soared high, disappearing under his bangs. Paying little attention to his instinctive actions, Peter guided his free hand between his thighs. Inwardly, he told himself he was only adjusting his uncomfortable hard-on. ‘Cuz it’d be totally weird if he did anything else…right? Best to ignore the movement of his thumb, as it absentmindedly circled his bulge.

“Huh…that’s so…” Peter blinked, clearing his throat and masking his nerves with a chuckle, “‘Kay, I’ll be up front with you, babe. That sounds cute as hell. Very nice.”

“Really? Oh, please, Peter. They’d be cute on anybody.” You scoffed.

“Uh huh…” He smirked, dropping his tone even lower, “‘Cept, now that I’m really thinkin’ about it? I’m bettin’ they look criminally cute on you.” Peter lazily smirked.

You laughed, breathless like you ran a thousand miles, “Wh-...what are we even doing right now? Seriously, why am I talking to you about my-” The uneasiness in your voice bled through the line.

Your concern was for good reason. Nevertheless, Peter interrupted you mid-sentence.

“Easy there, chuckles. We’re just chatting. Nothin’ too unusual, right? We’ve had some seriously raunchy conversations before. Remember? That time I got laid on a golf course? You told me about that time some dude shot a load in your eye. What’s the difference, anyway?” Peter grimaced, as he recalled your story from eons ago.

You giggled yet again, “Peter, you know damn well what the difference is!” You clarified with a sigh, still playful. The phone wire went slack around his finger, as Peter second guessed himself. He parted his lips, on the cusp of apologizing. Bringing one hand up to the phone, he held it loosely. Your sugary voice chimed again, “I’m kinda wondering, though…what would you think if I told you I’m topless right now?”

His grip compressed around the handset.

“Topless, huh?” Peter cast a quick glance at his hard-on, twitching painfully under his boxers. His mind jumped straight to sinful places again. Peter thought about what your tits probably look like, embraced in his jacket. Nipples hard, grazing the inner-lining. He swallowed, “What’re you tryna tell me? You gonna drive over here in nothin’ but that?” Peter quipped.

A more sultry laugh melted through the receiver. Peter trembled, as your smooth voice coaxed him like a tempting song. His free palm squeezed his bulge, putting pressure to his length over fabric. Peter’s brows turned inward, and he fluttered his eyes shut.

“I guess that wouldn’t be so bad, if it wasn’t so cold outside. It’s freezing today. I don’t know how you can run as fast as you do when the weather’s like this.” Your tone disguised itself with lighthearted innocence again, “It’s not any warmer in my room either. My nipples could cut glass. They’re, like, soooo hard.”

Peter adjusted himself on the sofa, giving the swell of his bulge another teasing squeeze.

“ Ты маленькая соблазнительница (you little temptress)...”  His hot breath fanned the phone.

“I love it when you talk like that…” You replied, “Even if I have no idea what you’re saying. It sounds really hot, to be totally honest.”

“Oh, yeah?” Peter teased his lip with his teeth, speaking in a more flirtatious voice; buttery smooth, “ Я забыл вынести мусор (I forgot to take out the trash)...” For added effect - just to embarrass you more - he tacked on a husky moan.

Peter made himself blush, as the sound came out far more pornagraphic than he intended. The rasp of his voice scraped through the line in a hushed, “ Oh, yeah, baby. ”

The erotic tension you felt from his teasing was palpable, even over the phone. Peter could sense the shift in the way you gasped. So faint, so shy, so cute.

“Oh…oh, wow...uhm…” You tried concealing your bashfulness with more of those candy coated giggles. But Peter could practically hear the blood racing to your cheeks, “What’s that mean? Something good, I hope.”

Peter bit his tongue, lips turning in a cheeky grin.

“It means you’re really turnin’ me on…”

Another hesitant pause fell between the two of you, before you scoffed.

“Oh my god, no it doesn’t! I can hear you laughing!” You griped, snickering along with Peter. A few more tension heavy beats pulsed over the line. You spoke again, “Hey…I’m sorry. Can I put things on pause for a sec? I just wanted to ask…are you okay with this?”

“Are you?” Peter gently asked, giving you ample time to think about it.

“I don’t know…maybe…” You whispered, “Isn’t this, like, super weird for you?”

“I mean…suuuuuuure. It’s totally weird. If you kept goin', I wouldn't be into it...at all...” He bullied you with a playful edge, hoping you could read the flirtatious undertone in his voice.

“Ohhhhh…you wouldn't be?” Judging by the saucy lilt in your voice, you most definitely caught on, “You know what would be even weirder?”

Peter adjusted on the sofa again. Getting comfortable, he laid on his back. His taut legs stretched across the cushions, and Peter propped his head on the couch’s arm.

“Whazzat? Enlighten me, babe. I’m listenin’. You got my full attention.” He teased.

“Your full attention, huh? I must be doing something right.” You snickered, “So…you know how I said I love it when you talk…like that?” Your voice wavered, “What I really meant was-uhm…when you do that on the phone…it makes me kind of horny.”

His brown hues burst open, wider than ever. Peter’s pupils dilated, expanding as far as the universe itself. He swallowed again, his mouth falling open. Your filthy confession set his arousal ablaze, making his dick twitch. As heated desire took over, Peter couldn’t restrain himself. He snuck his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, fingertips gliding over silver hairs. A small piece of him almost felt guilty for doing so.

“It does, huh? Хорошо знать (Good to know).” Peter whispered, tenderly grasping his shaft.

You made a naughty squeak of a noise in response, “Y-Yeah, Peter, I’m serious. You really have to stop doing that.”

“Почему (Why)? Are you soakin’ yourself over it? Gettin’ a lil wet? It’s cool. You can tell me…” Peter heckled, expelling a breath as he gave his dick a single tug.

“Oh, I bet you wanna know all about that, huh? You’re so bad, Quickie...” You teased, clicking your tongue.

Peter’s ears burned, turning pink as he took in the coquettish nature of your voice. Scoffing, he feigned his indignance.

“What?! Hey, nah nah nah! You started this! Это несправедливо, черт возьми (it’s not fair. Dammit)!” Peter laughed, carefree with you as always, “You can’t seriously drop a bombshell like that and expect me not to-”

“Not to come running?” You hummed, sweet tempered, “I’m just messing with you, baby. But since we’re on the topic…I made such a mess of these little panties. Just from listening to your voice.”

Peter couldn’t even pretend he didn’t like the sound of ‘baby’ on your tongue.

“Oh, man…anything but the panties…” He joked, “You should-uh…you should save yourself some trouble. Y’know…take ‘em off, maybe? Might be more comfortable.” Peter hinted, playing nonchalant, “Just tryna be a good friend. Give you some advice. You should for sure take it.”

“But I’m already so cold…” You whimpered, “Your jacket’s so warm. Smells good too. Really good. But it’s not enough to keep me covered.” You spoke with flirtatious innocence, and Peter played along.

“No harm done, принцесса (princess). I’ll warm you up if you need me to.” He reassured, sweet talking you over the phone, “Ты думаешь, что я не позабочусь о тебе? (Do you think I won't take care of you)?" Peter mumbled again. He listened to your sickly sweet laughs, before asking, “So…do you get like this every time we talk on the phone?”

“Mmmm…maybe.” You hummed, “What if I said yes?” You shuffled around again, and Peter’s mind jumped elsewhere. He imagined you shed yourself of damp, black lace. Leaving you wanton and needy in nothing but his jacket, “You know…we’ve been talking about me a lot this whole time. You wanna tell me what you’re wearing? I don’t really have a visual.”

“Oh…me?” Your request caught Peter off guard.

“Yeah, you. Who else, blockhead?” You playfully quipped, smoothing your voice to say, “You don’t have to be shy. I just wanna know, so I can think about taking it off of you.”

Peter didn’t know he could blush this much. Puffing a bashful laugh, he looked down at his body. Mostly nude and toned enough. He had his x-gene to thank for his pecs and hard abs. A fluffy bouquet of silver hairs peeked out from his boxers. Underneath, his dick throbbed, pressing eagerly into fabric.

“Uhm…I’m not wearin’ a lot? Nothin’ special. Just some black, boxer briefs, I guess. Wait, no-” Peter lifted a foot, his lips curling in a goofy smile, “Got my Star Wars socks on too.”

A sensual moan graced his ears, “That’s so hot.” You softly whined, “Star Wars socks? Peter, just take me now.”

Despite the fact you were totally messing with him, that playful comment made his chest tight. 

“Nothing else though?” You pressed.

“Nnnnnnnnnnope.” He drew out the word, popping the P, “Just the-uh…yeah. Boxers ‘n sexy socks. Not much to take off.”

“And you’re pretty fit, aren’t you? You always looked really jacked to me, so-” You said.

Peter cocked a brow, snickering to cover his embarrassment.

“Wooooahhh…you been checkin’ me out, babe?” He asked, darting his dark hues across his athletic bod. Peter flexed an arm, “Sure, I guess I’m in decent shape.” He found he couldn’t dismiss your compliments. Peter looked good, and he knew it. But he preferred hearing it from you, “Hey, you wanna know somethin’, like, way crazy?”

“This? What we’re doing right now is so crazy, right?” You laughed, sounding as bashful as him.

Peter snickered, “True. Truuuue. But, uh…” He shrank in his spot on the couch, pressing the vibrant handset closer into his cheek. Pre-cum seeped through his boxers, as Peter tugged his dick steady and slow. Careful not to stimulate himself too much yet. He dropped his voice to a hushed rasp, “I’m kinda in the same spot you are right now. If you-uh…if you catch my drift.”

The two of you knew each other for a long time. Several years, in fact. But never once did Peter think he’d hear his closest pal say-

“Ohhhh. Are you hard right now, baby?”

Oh. Yeah, this buddy-buddy friendship was in major trouble. Doomed to crash and burn. As soon as the words fell from your lips, spoken in your honeyed voice; Peter’s breath hitched in his throat. He sank his teeth so hard into his lip, he almost broke skin.

“Y-Yeah. Since you-uh…started talkin’ about your panties. I’m sorry, babe. Just been kinda bored and worked up all day.” He sheepishly chuckled.

“You poor baby…” You coddled him over the phone. And while he should’ve been embarrassed, Peter had no problem with you talking like that, “Can I ask how big you are?”

Peter stalled for a moment, before pulling the front of his boxers down. His hardness flopped against his belly, pulsating and ruddy from his teasing. Taking his aching length in his hand, he rubbed the underside with his thumb.

“You mean my dick? It’s-uhhhh…like six, maybe seven inches almost?” He squeezed his cock, milking beads of pre-cum, “But size doesn’t matter, yeah? It’s the motion of the ocean, babe.”

“Noooooo, baby. You’re so perfect. Wish I could see how good you look like that…” You cooed over the phone.

Your kindly words and airy tone made the veins in his dick throb with electric heat. Peter clutched his cock tight, pumping the velvet skin a touch faster. Giving himself just a simple taste of relief. His stomach clenched, hardening his abs.

“Не так идеально, как ты выглядишь (Not as perfect as you look)...” Peter muttered, drawing in a shallow breath, “Babe, I gotta tell ya, I’m really feelin’ this. I’m so into you right now. W-Want you to keep talkin’ like-uh...”

His imagination took his depravity to the next level. Now, Peter thought about joining you in your room. He wondered how soft and smooth your skin would feel. Supple and hot under his fingertips. What might you look like writhing under him, whimpering as he played with you? As he teased you? Man, you were both so screwed.

“Never thought dirty talking with me would turn you on so much…” You giggled.

Peter secured the handset between his cheek and shoulder. With both hands free, he raised his palm to his lips. He drew a long stripe with his tongue, bringing his damp hand to his cock. The slick lubrication pulled a gentle moan from his throat.

“M-Maybe a little bit. Ебать (Fuck), maybe a lot.” Peter groaned, labored in his breathing, “Can you - Ебать (fuck) - you wanna do somethin’ for me? Just a little favor between friends? S’all I’m askin’, baby.”

“Anything you want, Peter.” You mewled.

“Can you- mmmmohgod -” Peter choked up. He almost chickened out, but pushed himself to ask, “Can you touch yourself for me? Please? Пожалуйста, моя маленькая принцесса (Please, my little princess)...” His foreign whispers weaved pretty whimpers from your lips.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that, if you want me to. But you have to do the same for me too. It’s only fair, right? Equal exchange?” You whispered, acting playful again.

Peter breathed a guilty chuckle, “Uhm…yeahhhhh…about that…”

You softly gasped, “Have you been-”

“Playin’ with my dick this whole time? Maybe.” Peter admitted. His thumb caught another pearl of pre, spreading the slickness over his sensitive head, “But I’m not, like, totally jerkin’ it yet…” He lied, pressing you to encourage him.

“Oh, you’re not, huh? What are you doing then?” You asked, “Are you being a bad boy, Pietro?” The abrupt drop of his given name shocked him into silence.

Peter felt his groin tighten, and an exhilarating rush electrified his nerves. For the thousandth time, you giggled. And for the thousandth time, Peter’s heart leapt. Dumbfounded, he gathered his composure and played along again.

“Y-Yeah. So bad. You gotta help me, babe. I’m just-...I’m so hard. Don’t think I can stop myself if you keep talkin’ like that.”

Through the receiver, Peter’s ears caught wind of a needy mewl. He gripped his cock hard, guiding his fist in firmer strokes. His legs quivered, and the heels of his Star Wars socks slid across the couch.

“Does it feel good when you touch your pretty cock like that, sweetheart?” You cooed.

Peter almost went straight into cardiac arrest. He jolted in place, feeling his cock stiffen in his grasp.

“Святой трах (Holy fuck)..." Peter suffocated on his own groans. For an instant, his words failed him, “Uhmmm…hah…wow-uh…Ебать (fuck). Feels good, yeah. Don’t think it’s enough. I need-...uhm…I want-uh…”

“Yeah? What do you want, baby. It’s okay.” You spoke so sugary sweet again.

“I-...Я просто хочу увидеть тебя (I just want to see you)...” Peter’s veins tingled under his touch, as he tugged his dick with more urgency, “Shit! I-...how come I never knew you could be like this-” And to Peter’s ultimate humiliation, he whimpered your name. Along with another whiny, “ Ебать (Fuck). ”

“Like what?” Your coy voice teased him over the line.

“I dunno…so-uh…so damn nasty.” He joked, and even through the phone; he knew he had you flustered again.

“I guess we all have our secrets, hmm? Tell me more, Pietro. When you touch yourself like that. With those big, strong hands…how’s it feel?” You asked, driving him to keep going.

Peter snorted a laugh, “Strong hands? What??” His endearing playfulness took a backseat, as he grunted into the receiver, “God…feels like my strong hand’s not enough. Мне реально тебе нужно прямо сейчас. Нужна так сильно (I really need you right now. I need you so much).” His voice fell to a whisper. Pumping his slick, crimson cock through his fist, he breathlessly pleaded, “Talk to me, baby. Please. Tell me-ohhh…tell me what you’re doin’ over there.”

You squealed a sultry giggle, further igniting Peter’s pleasured frenzy. He squirmed in his spot on the sofa, forcing himself to stay put. Battling the forces of the universe, it was all Peter could do not to race to your room. Just to spread your legs and hump you like a speedy bunny.

“Mmmm…I’m just doing what you asked me to…I’m being so good for you right now.” You whimpered.

“Oh. Okay…uhm…far out. Uh…wanna gimme the steamy details?” He heckled again, fumbling his words in his nervousness, “Please, don’t hold off on me, baby.”

“I’m…” Your precious voice wavered, teeming with awkwardness as your confidence dwindled, “I’m playing with my little pussy. Just for you. And I’m so wet. I can’t stop thinking about your hands…so big…”

“Боже мой (my god).” Peter muttered. Combating impatience brought upon by his genes, he willed himself to take things slow. His strokes became steady and teasing, as he edged his aching cock, “Holy shit, babe. Yeah? Keep goin’...”

You moaned soft squeals into the receiver, “I want you so bad, Quickie. Please, baby, don’t make me beg. Can you touch this little pussy for me? Please? Your fingers are so big. I don’t think they’d fit all at once. It’s been a while, and I’m so tight.” Your naughty voice pleaded.

“God, I wanna touch you so bad. Я хочу прикоснуться к этой сладкой киске (I want to touch that sweet pussy).” Peter’s impatience got the better of him, and he quickly gave in. He grasped his cock hard, wringing himself fast enough to make his balls bounce. Creasing his brows, he groaned, “Ohhh..What’re you tryna to do to me, babe? Talkin’ about how tight you are…Ебать…”

“But I ammmm.” You whined again, “I’m squeezing my tiny fingers so tight. It’s so soft and hot for you. Bet it’d feel really good if you stretched me. With your fingers, with your cock - fuck, Pietro. I just need you, baby.”

“Please, baby, oh, please? Wanna be inside you. Wanna feel you. I promise I won’t go too fast. Я обещаю (I promise).” Peter whimpered. But as you mewled again, another forceful wave of carnal heat crashed over Peter. In a quieter tone, he choked, “Нет, я могу. Я пойду так быстро (No, I can. I’ll go so fast).”

“Pietro, you can go as fast as you want, baby. I won’t stop you.” You pleaded, your broken voice so kittenish and wanton, “F-Fuck. I’m rubbing my clit. So sensitive. Thinking about you. Thinking about your mouth on me.”

“Ебать!!” Peter moaned through clenched teeth. His self control rapidly abandoned him. Speedily rutting his sore cock through the squeeze of his fist, his body refused to slow down, “Говоря о скорости (Speaking of speed)...” Peter craned his neck back, raising a hand to keep the handset to his ear, “You gotta stop makin’ all those cute noises, baby. Please…I can’t-”

As surges of horny pleasure circulated through his body, Peter thought of you again. He imagined you on your bed, caged under him between his arms. In his daydreams, he kissed you intimately, touching your pretty, naked body. Peter wanted to feel how wet you were for himself. And hell, the danger of pushing your friendship past its limits made you more tempting. Such a lewd, risky thought pushed him closer to the edge of something righteous.

“Baby, I wanna see you. Can I? Can I see you stroke that thick cock? Would you let me? Ohh, fuck, Pietro.” You whimpered. And your noises were so shamelessly lecherous, you could’ve made a pornstar blush, “Can I kiss it, please? Can I kiss your big cock?” You whimpered.

“О боже мой, пожалуйста (Oh my god, please)!” Peter choked, every word hitching in his throat, “Baby…babe, you can’t do this. Ya really can’t be-” He laughed lazily, his dark eyes falling half lidded. His cock throbbed, bright red and turning purple at the tip. He rutted in a speedy blur, “Stop. Stop. Stop. I’m gonna…babe, I’m gonna bust-” He slurred.

You squealed his name as loudly as your hushed voice would allow. And Peter swore he could hear the slick sound of your fingers. As they played with your pretty, little cunt.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Please cum with me. Please? Pietro, OH~!”

“я кончаю, я кончаю (I’m cumming, I’m cumming)! ‘M Gonna-” Peter’s moans seeped through the receiver, his wet lips parting and mouth hanging open.

His swollen cock erupted in white-hot jets, coating his pecs and belly. With all his muscles tensed, Peter’s legs trembled. He rode out those lusty waves in tandem with you. The pleasure of orgasm sounded leagues more intense on your side. You took longer to cruise through it, whimpering and moaning Peter’s name. As you did, Peter basked in his momentary afterglow. Keeping the phone pressed to his ear, his head resting on the arm of the sofa; he listened to you with a smirk on his lips. At the end of your journey in ecstasy, your moans turned into flustered giggles.

Peter's thoughts reeled him in again. Imagining you, looking so sheepish and fine in his jacket. Now, he desperately wanted the real deal. To see you in all your post-nut glory. Mere seconds later, his sore cock pulsed to life again. As his hardness squirmed on his belly, Peter breathed another sigh.

On his end, you heard nothing but silence. You kept calling his name, your tired voice infused with anxiety.

“Uhm…Peter? Hey…are you there?” You asked.

And he didn't say a single word more.

[flowery-mess]

I'm watching a turkish telenova rn so that's why I'm requesting this specific thing.

What if teen noah and teen reader got pregnant, but he's like, "I've got a band and no time for a child, get out" and readers being a badass and is like "k, I'm moving back to Europe, raising this child and becoming a lawyer"

So daughters now 20 years old and a rock fan, hence why she goes to the rock am ring festival where bad omens are gonna perfome (she's not a big fan of them, she wants to see the other bands)

Noah spots her in the crowd and is like "yn?" And sends the security to get her backstage. She declines to go backstage bc of the stories of rammstein drugging and abusing their fans and tells the security "yns my mom tho" and boom Noah realizes that's his daughter. At the end of the festival the daughters waiting with her friend for her mom to pick them up when Noah approaches her and is like " i know ur mom" daughters like " prove it i,I don't believe u" so Noah's like " this is her birthday, her middle name is this and yada yada"

(Daughter not knowing that Noah is her das obviously, mom never mentioned any names just that he was trying to make it with his music)

She was like "oh cool, mom used to be friends with bad omens?" So they're talking and boom Mama pulls up and is Hella mad when she sees Noah buuut not because she's butthurt of what he did to her 20 years ago but bc she's mama bear and is like " u were a nobody when u hurt me but now ur a big Rockstar and have more power. So stay away from her"

Noah's obviously still in love with mom and is shook that she thinks that way of him.

Ik specific and long but if u wanna work with this imma love u forever. It could be like dad daughter things, where he realizes even tho she looks exactly like ger mom, they have same interest. Orr the mom and Noah could talk it out and eventually fall back in lovee.

I don't write about having kids, but I gave it a try so I hope you like it💗

Uf I don't think Noah would be like that, but let's get along with that scenario...

I think it would be only fair to the daughter to tell her the truth.

I'm not sure what her reaction would be, but I wouldn't tell her what Noah said in the past, she doesn't need to get hurt too.

So maybe tell her that he wasn't ready to be dad yet so they parted ways and you got back to Europe.

Daughter would listen to both sides, take it all in and make her own opinion.

She wouldn't feel any hate towards any of you, because despite being just 20 years old she's very mature.

But she would want to get to know Noah.

They would exchange numbers and keep in touch as he and the band continue festival season.

After they are back in the states, all three of you have a big call about finding a date when the daughter would come visit Noah in the states and stay with him for like a month.

Daughter attending college makes it easier with her semester starting in October, so you agree on date from middle of August to the end of Semptember.

After the date is set, Noah tells her he wants to talk to you alone for a minute.

You talk about what happened between you two and Noah apologizes.

Through the years all the hate and anger kind of dissapeared.

Mostly because you're proud of yourself for raising your daughter alone and making it on your own.

Noah is proud of you too.

And he would never ask you or your daughter to talk about him like her dad or ask her to call him dad, because he knows he doesn't earn that title yet. He just wants to get to know her.

But what he does is ask if you would want to come too.

And you're surprised.

Of course all of those feelings you had for him flashed through your mind when you saw him again. But also all the pain he put you through with his decision.

But before that happened he was amazing. He was great boyfriend and great person.

The thought about your daughter flying alone scared you, but you know she could make it and then she would be with Noah. And you were 100% sure he would keep her safe.

That's why you didn't mind her flying to the staes even if you and Noah haven't seen each other in 20 years.

But you coming too? That made you scared.

You were scared that you would fall in love with him again.

You made this new country your home, you have great place to live and amazing job.

You can't give that up for someone who left you when you needed him the most.

"Thanks, but no Noah. You know it's not a great idea. I trust you with her, she is adult so I will be supportive of you two getting to know eachother. But I'm not gonna turn my life upside down because of you again. I appreciate your apology, I will stay in touch with you, but please, only because of her."

Even though he asked you to just come to the states for month you knew him and you saw in his eyes what you saw 20 years ago.

Love? Feelings? Call it whatever you want, but you knew how going there with your daughter would end.

And you didn't need your heart broken again.

[canyouhearthelight]

Nihilus Rex, Ch. 32: Sisters and Secrets

This post is dedicated to something that I am more than obsessed with in anything I write: realistic sibling relationships. Yes, siblings can be the bane of your existence during childhood and may still be so when you're an adult.

But it's equally likely that your sibling will be your partner in crime. So if you see shades of Sophia and Tyche in this, know that's because of my own relationship with my youngest sibling.

As always, co-written with the incredible @baelpenrose. Extra shoutout to @lavcircuts who may not realize it but reminded me today is Friday and that means I need to post!

I really hope you get it

And don’t live to regret it…

I hope you’re happy in the end.

I hope you’re happy, my friend” - Wicked, Glinda and Elphaba, “Defying Gravity”

Lash

Once Baba and Mama were asleep for a while, I took advantage and asked Mori to walk to the store with me.  While we were both aware that she had filled the freezer as much as possible with meals, there was an oppressive sort of silence that filled the apartment now that Lucas and the boys were back in Puyallup.  She gladly took up my offer, left notes with our parents, and practically shoved me out into the setting sunlight.

“This way,” I reminded her once we hit the bottom of the stairs. Years of habit told our feet to turn towards Uncle’s shop, but… “There is a market this way with Turkish coffee.”

Forcing herself to be cheerful, she clucked her tongue. “Not as good, but better than American.” 

Her imitation of Baba’s frequent words made a hard stone in my chest.  I reminded myself that Baba was still with us and blinked the tingling from my eyes. “I bet you can’t wait to get home,” I teased, gently bumping her shoulder with mine.

She shoved back with her hips. “I had to beg Lucas to take away the computer when I was looking at properties nearby,” she confessed.  When I gaped at her, she tugged my hair with a grin. “Who is going to cook until Mama is well?”

“Clearly you are,” I announced, thinking on all the food she had made ahead.  “And I know Fatima is waiting until you are home to come visit.  She told me so when I went to check on the girls last wee - Wait.” I stopped in my tracks and pulled Mori’s hand. “You are sending Fatima to check on us??”

Mori smoothed my hair and patted my hand, the way Mama did sometimes. “Fatima needs someone to fuss over, and Mama and Baba need fussing.  Mama won’t hurt for having little girls in the house after my boys, either.”

I groaned in mock-agony. “Again, you outmaneuver me!”  Coming to my senses, I squeezed her hand seriously, stroking her arm. “Thank you. I don’t think I could take care of them both without help, and you always know what to do.”

She tugged me to keep walking, well aware that we didn’t need to go to the store and were just getting out of the house for a talk. “So. Tell me about Nils.  Not what you told me at the hospital, I want the truth.”

There was a small bubble of hesitation, but it was immediately pushed down by a thousand memories of Mori and I chattering away into the night about things Mama and Baba would never understand. “I met him after a funeral,” I told her. “His best friend.  He picked a fight with some people he shouldn’t have, and thought I was going to jump from my bridge.”

Mori clucked again. “You and that bridge. Mama always hated it, but Baba talked her down.”

I grinned, letting a stray breeze hit my face. “Brayden had just screwed me over again, and this time he’d taken the money with him - “

“I never liked Brayden.” She’s never even met Brayden.

I pushed on. “Nils has a way with computers, and he got my money back - “

“And Brayden’s…”

“Am I telling this story, or are you?” I scolded. “Anyway, we decided to work together on some… less than legal things that would help people who had been screwed over.” I bit my lip, hesitant to be more specific.  “Beyond that, he lives on his own in a not-yet-gentrified apartment block, helps the homeless by letting them stay in a building I think he owns, and goes to college. Great relationship with his mom, but - you met his dad.”

“You never did let unfair laws stop you from doing the right thing,” Mori sighed. “And yeah, I would be telling you to run for the hills if he had a good relationship with Doctor Iceblock Godcomplex. I am going to assume the ‘less than legal things’ have to do with Baba’s car suddenly being paid off, and beg you not to confirm that. I already had one interview with the FBI, and I…”  She stopped in her tracks and trailed off, staring in the distance.  I let her sit in silence for a couple minutes until she slowly turned her head toward me and grabbed both my forearms. “Lash,” she hissed. “That wasn’t about the fire at all, was it?”

“I don’t think so,” I answered, slowly but truthfully. “Nils and I had nothing to do with the fire other than being there when it happened,” I swore. “I would never put anyone who was there at risk. Me, yes. Nils, if he was willing - which he probably would be. But our parents? Uncle? Imran?” I scowled and shook my head.  “We really were there to get coffee after a date.”

My sister pressed her fingertips between her eyebrows until the nail beds turned white. “Baba’s car, that was you and Nils?”

“Yes.”

“The men who were shot at the bank?”

“Were volunteers, and we did not ask, tell, or imply that they should pull guns on the police.”

Her fingertips migrated to massage her forehead. “Are Mama and Baba in danger?”

“Not if I can help it, no. I didn’t even want them at the cafe, although it had nothing to do with the rest.”

“Nosy, nosy aunties,” she exhaled, opening her eyes. “I swear, they should be studied as a force of the universe. Quantum mechanics probably hinges on nosy aunties.” Mori dragged me by my arm again, walking briskly for several minutes until we found a bench. Rather than sitting, she had us cross the street. “So the attack, that was real and you didn’t cause it.”

I swore viciously until she pulled me to a stop and levelled a glare that told me to wrap it up. “No, that was something separate that has been escalating despite several police reports,” I promised.

“So, I haven’t lied to a fed, that is nice,” she answered breezily. “Is Nils your boyfriend, or is that a cover?”  My face flushed with heat, and she started laughing. “Ooooo, more than a boyfriend, I see!  So you haven’t been crashing on someone’s couch all those nights you didn’t come home!”

“I will have you know, I did sleep on a couch,” I argued, indignant. “His bed is rock hard, Mori! It’s the worst!”

Her peals of laughter let me know that all was accepted and forgiven. “And the couch is better?”

“Like a marshmallow,” I shook my head. “It’s amazing.”

We walked for another block, elbowing each other in silence and erupting into giggles.  It was when we had stopped in front of a chocolate shop that Mori leaned over to ask the hard question. “How much trouble?”

‘Are you in’ went unsaid. I shrugged and carefully chose my words - for the people walking past, not for my sister. “The FBI haven’t asked directly about anything but the fire, and I didn’t lie to the agent,” I answered truthfully. “But we’re pretty sure that she’s here for more than just a fire.  I had nothing to do with the deaths of those guys connected to the fire.” Slight fib, but technically true from a legal standpoint. “Nils and I are… trying to make things better for people who have been getting the shit end of it all.  I don’t know how far that is going to go, yet, but I needed to make sure that if something happens, someone can tell Mama and Baba.”

My ear stung like fire when she flicked it with one long nail. “You are asking me to tell our parents if you are dead,” she hissed. “That isn’t fair.”

“I’m asking you to tell them if I’m arrested,” I clarified, managing to get my hand up in time that the next thump hit a knuckle. “I know it isn’t fair, but it’s even less fair to let them think I am a missing person if someone is able to let them know I am arrested or dead.”

“And why can your Nils not tell them?”

I raised an eyebrow and glared at her in my best ‘don’t be stupid’ glare.

She relented and held up her hands. “Okay, yeah, even I can tell he would be right there in it with you.  That’s at least somewhat fair.”  She placed one hand on my upper arm and rubbed it briskly. “Just… try to make it as long as possible before I have to make good on that promise?”

“Without a doubt,” I answered, shaking my head.  “Although…” She glared at me and I gave up the joke. “I met Nils’ parents the other night, and his mom wants to do a ladies’ day before you head home. You, Mama, me, and Ms. Katherine Andover.”

“Yay….” Mori cheered with zero enthusiasm. “Rich white lady day…”

I laughed and shook my head. “Oh, oh no. We pick the restaurant, and she’ll pay. I only ask that it isn’t the Ethiopian place, because apparently she eats there often.”

“Are you serious? She’ll pay?”

I nodded. “I can confirm, she is very adventurous with new foods, and the only thing that kept her from eating with her hands was that she didn’t know it was not just permitted but encouraged.”

“Crap,” Mori swore. “Now I don’t know if I want to try an expensive place, or if I want to watch the rich lady eat cheap ethnic food…”

I squeezed Mori’s arm with laughter. “Oh my god, I know, right?”

[girderednerve]

list!!

okay i am heading into my last week at this job, which is also the last week of summer programming, so it is going to be busy & socially fraught (not excited about this!!). i have to make cookie dough and slime with children, and also get through my exit interview with my stupid boss who lied to my face & then impugned my professional integrity when i disagreed with him. HOWEVER this weekend has been pretty great: i made pizza with my partner, we went out to our CSA farm & picked cherry tomatoes & basil & tomatillos & late season blueberries, later we are going to make salsa & pesto & feast upon blueberry bounty. also we watched the gold medal men's basketball game, which was really fun. steph curry at it again, etc.

anyway here is a list of things i am thinking about doing with my pending unemployment, other than panicking about my future & feeling guilty for quitting my stupid job, and obviously applying for other, hopefully less stupid, jobs:

weaving! i got a second heddle & i am going to attempt simple 3x1 twill. i got yarn to make my partner a scarf & hopefully i will have managed it by fall, aka scarf szn. also i have to figure out what i'm doing with the baby blanket i am making for my friend: the fabric is off the loom but the two panels aren't quite identical, so i could either do a big hem (don't want to do this), do some surgery (nervous but probably best option), or wet finish it & then line it with some kind of cute fabric to hide its flaws (i'm considering a couple different spoonflower dragons?). feel free to weigh in if you have Thoughts™

sorting through our books for ones we no longer need & generally tidying up. i find this sort of thing very difficult but it will be good once it is done

drop spindle!! considering getting a cheap 3D printed turkish spindle & seeing if i like that, but also i got some dyed top so i'll be able to see what i'm doing when i try to figure out plying. my dream is to make reasonably cute textured handspun that i can weave into placemats and then mail to my mother

i'm gonna sign up for a class to learn how to do MARC records. i didn't take a dedicated cataloging class in grad school (not required in my program & offered relatively infrequently/at terrible times), just the required one about the general principles. i wanna know how the metadata works

looking at schools. nobody needs two advanced degrees but sometimes it turns out that i am nobody

baking projects! i want pavlova, which is in my opinion an objectively perfect dessert, and also it's coming up on apple season, which means mandatory galette

podfic. i have ideas but as always if you have a thing you want a recording of please feel free to ask

i owe at least one person a letter & i have a stash of fun stationery! i want to write LETTERS let me know if you want one & you might receive one in um. like. a calendar month. i'm a mess but letters are fun!

friend of mine is considering running an old gods of appalachia campaign and i could be annoying about it. i'm considering being soooo annoying about it, like have you ever heard of a better excuse to finish reading all of my appalachian labor history pdfs??

anyway i'm sure i'll end up doing maybe a third of this at best but it's good to have plans. i hope you also have time in your life to do things which are important to you! if you have hobbies you are up to please feel personally invited to tell me about them :)

[fastfur07]

How Everyone Tastes

(an exhaustive study by fastfur07)

I'm not going to tag so many people, but I went ahead and tasted everyone who reblogged this post (and wasn't a NSFW/kink blog). Note that this was based on blog vibes only. Here we go.

23iamtryingmybest: Kicking things off, you’re spicy like an exotic vegetable soup. Great appetiser; my taste buds are all warmed up now.

better-with-dragons: Refreshing and cool; smooth texture that really slips down your throat. No, hang on, I accidentally swallowed. Oh no.

bug-on-the-floor: Hang on, give me a minute… *sips water* yeah, nice and savoury with sweet hints. Not too hard, not too soft. Top-tier snack here.

cardnompfs: Smells like fresh linen or something, but the taste is better. Warm and comfortable mouth feeling. 

cursedexbf: Bitter and weirdly metallic. Doesn’t taste like you should be edible, but there you go.

fruitydraws: Very sweet and juicy! A great palate cleanser. I think I’ll savour you a bit longer– oops.

glassmice-blog1: Okay, I promise I won’t swallow anyone else. You’re actually almost tasteless, but the little hints I’m getting go well. There’s nothing wrong with mildness.

gulo-gulottun: Similarly to the last one, you’re like a little pick-n’-mix of some other tastes; it’s hard to make any out individually. It’s like a big mouthful of jelly beans.

ineedtherapyrn224: Mysterious, almost like licorice or aniseed but a little more appetising (at least to me).

jackthenibbler: Soft like a muffin, and a weird fruity taste alongside it. I can’t quite tell exactly what fruit, but it’s nice.

lemonblackberrytart: A lemon blackberry tart, obviously. Tangy and strong. Tarts were never my favourite pastry, but friends always taste better.

nightmarevore: Cool again, and I’m picking up some of that metallicness from earlier.

nomminmothdragon: Creamy and vanilla-ish. (I know you didn’t technically reblog the post, but I wanted to include you anyway, and it was worth it; you’re delicious.)

nompunhere: Tangy again, kinda like sour candy, and… new car smell? Iunno, that’s just what I’m picking up.

novorehere: Sweet and fluffy, very tasty indeed… aargh… CAN’T RESIST… MUST SWALLOW–

owo-vore-time: Savoury with a soft and familiar texture. Faint scent of pizza rolls.

roseytoesy: Turkish delight (the original one, like Narnia), but milder. Definitely an esoteric taste.

saltedgutz: Fresh and minty, and tickly like hard candy. Hey, stop wriggling so much.

standusermoment: Mildly sour like blueberries. Very piquant.

tinystarwatch: A nice cup of Earl Grey. 

toothsome-troodont: A little bland, but that’s to be expected from a new blog. Faint fruitiness.

totallyvore: Crispy and a little chalky to finish off. 

Damn, all those weird tastes. Remind me not to try so many new snacks at once in future. I need something to settle my stomach: I think I'll go eat Mango Anon.

[grey-and-lavender]

Hello good morning good morning!

I am once again writing from my friend's couch. I'd mentioned giving myself a caffeine headache while still drinking coffee and the mug she set out for me today is the size of a bowl. I feel seen and cared for and also like a bit of a meme.

I am going to go and work in a cafe with a friend for the morning, and then return in time for a meeting this afternoon. I just need to be back here for 3 or so.

There is a party ("It's more of an intimate get together") here tonight for my friend's birthday so I need to pick up a bottle of pop and some watermelon while I'm out. My friend is Turkish, and she says that in Turkey the last thing you bring out is watermelon (it can turn into a bit of a power move to either keep people longer or make them go home). Every time we go to a party or picnic together I try to bring watermelon for the joke, but I actually asked her this time because there will be other Turkish people there. "No I give you permission; I was going to ask my brother to get one."

[c-11-22]

I was born in California, raised angry there and let it out in Tennessee whenever mom saw tour started. I ran away twice and ended up teaching the math class at jt moore bc the teacher didnt want to, the only friend I had was basketball captain (we spoke once, he left me notes every day after, i avoided bc his script wasn't even interestingly terrible, just boringly bad), and the only real friend I had was the after school detention / art teacher (?) whose speech was so slow and thick like how glycerin swirled into underglaze looks. whoever picked me up took me to mcdonalds every day after school to gain some muscle(?) and I slept in a friend of a friends upstairs bedroom so cozy and warm in the winters, she had a plushie robe too, I loved taking showers I took them w the lights off after school, I learned six years later that a woman was murdered in that room and that's how they got that huge of a house so cheap when they did!

my uncle left our dead dogs body in the front seat of the flatbed for 9 extremely frigid days after he passed that winter. Super Bowl Sunday it was snowing and Hersheys body was taken out the day before but the smell of death stains everything and it lingers above its stain, I couldn't inhale but it was super bowl sunday. I had the best turkish apricots of my life that day and into the night. everyone was lit. I don't remember who won I don't care, that house was the only interesting home in Nashville lol. Little bowls of those apricots in every room of the giant party. and mini pickles but I never cared for those so much.

I met a 90 yr old sculptor who was visiting the hosts (her children) that weekend from Taos. Idk how I was related to the hosts. doesn't matter. she matters! she's the only one that matters. She showed me a stone cartoon at the base of the stairs which led to her guest room. she carved it. it resembled a peacock and doughdough bird, only the head of both. and soldered onto a concrete block, that was also a pillow.

somewhere between that moment and the drive home with the dog stained truck is when I decided I was going to taos, so i ran back home to Cali first. the homecoming was profound, i didnt know i had so many friends honestly i forgot and they seemed so distracted when I needed them. i never told them i needed them because I didnt want to freak them out with the explanation. They were there though and they didnt forget, thats still crazy to me. they thought I died I wasn't on Facebook yet and I left my phone with my dad at home. My 13 yr old girl heart got distracted by the reminder of friends and access to the sea and my molding soccer cleats in the garage, so I didnt go to taos till 8 years later. I went to Taos but now im Ny using my hands and melting a bit too much, and next month i’ll be over there letting it gush all the way out again,

this season ends on the 23rd of august, I hear its for reconciling w ur teen brain, i havent visited that cascade of events in a few

[patrice-bergerons]

now you need to tell everyone about your 00q idea set in istanbul

OMG thank you Faatimah for indulging me 💖

The elevator pitch goes like this:

First as background, Q had a (OC) Turkish bf back in uni and they got along like a house on fire; only broke up when the bfs parent got cancer or sthing and he decided to move back to Istanbul. They kept in touch though and for Q it was one of those easy, wonderful relationships where you can not see or talk to someone for months but when you do see them again you just pick up where you left off. The dude (I want him to have an old fashioned name like Bülent) was also always talking abt moving back to London someday and altho what they have never stopped either from dating other people, I suppose in the back of his head Q always thought they would one day find themselves in the same city and get back together again.

The fic opens when this friend falls suddenly and fatally ill and Q wants to visit him before he dies. Q has also been put in some peril on the job a couple months back and he is emotionally still reeling from it, so not wanting to brave the trip alone, he asks Bond to come with him.

Now onto Bond--he and Q kinda dated a few years ago but Bond (self)sabotaged it and it took a lot of time for them to find their rhythm as friends again. But then when Q was in peril, everything fell into place for Bond. He realised that he loved this man, that he messed up before bc he was scared and that he wants to build a life with Q; if he gets a second chance (which he then thought he might) he would do everything in his power to make Q happy. And hell, even if he doesn't get that second chance he would still just be there for Q in any way Q needs him. Which is also why Q felt so comfortable asking him to come along, bc he has been so good subtly being there for Q in the aftermath of this traumatic event.

Except, Bond has been dragging his feet re making another romantic overture, bc, he has been saying to himself, Q is still vulnerable but its also low key bc he is scared--of the answer he is going to get, of the ways he can mess it up again. It's one thing to decide you will be the perfect boyfriend in your head and another to commit to it day in, day out. It's no matter he thinks, there is no rush, they have time.

So then SURELY in Turkey while Qs friend is dying is the worst possible time to bring any of this up, which is...fine up until Q says he's got this offer from a hedge fund in new york and he will accept it bc he just needs a fresh start somewhere else.

So I guess it's a fic about second chances and being too late - Q grieving for his friend and all the time they wasted and Bond - while pulling a masterclass in looking after Q - grieving for much the same, this realisation that Q will slip away from his fingers, and after everything Q has been thru, after everything Bond has done in the past, how can he ask him to stay?

I LOVE using descriptions of imagery to set the mood and I can go on and on when it comes to Istanbul; I also have a lot of pain and grief in my relationship to that city which would transpose very well onto Q and Bond's grief here I think. Especially as, they would have some time to kill between the friends death and the funeral so they would be going here and there in Istanbul so as to get out of their heads a little, Bond wanting to visit maybe the traumatic places from Skyfall, and bc Bond has that cushy inheritance they would stay at a posh hotel right by the Bosphorus with a view of the strait from their rooms.

And idk after all this angst and pain maybe we can still have a happy-ish ending, perhaps featuring Bond following after Q to NYC and offering his services as a bodyguard.

[sanguineposhrat]

It's almost 6am and I've got time so I want to get some words down about what I've seen on my travels around the UK in the last year or so while being Romani and wearing a keffiyah in England. Be prepared for the dumbest version of my thoughts on this lols.

Sellers of Palestinian flags will give you fashion tips in the street and you will try them out and they will be 1000% spot on. Everyone does need to wear more red and green, he's right. You spot people in black and navy blue way before they see you easier that way.

Homeless people will ask you for cash and they need it more than you so you better have change going anywhere because nothing is more embarrassing than having only 21p in your purse and getting sneered at as you hand it over. He doesn't believe you have no money in Central London on a Saturday so you open up to prove it and the twenty was a surprise but the penny comes out first and you have to beg that you're not taking the piss it's just stuck in the corner...

Little old ladies will call their dog a terrorist while walking them on the beach, so they can keep heckling the word repeatedly within your earshot. You remember again that not all dog people are people people. Your mum and nan are buried just up the road and you came here as a kid but now you wonder if the area has always been this way or if the change is recent and all the familiarity of the trip leaks out of you.

Men will overtake you along a canal loudly telling their friend 'But we need immigrants to do all the jobs, just not *illegal* ones...' and you realise this one specifically uses immigrant as code for slaves. You're with someone this time so you can follow him up with some 'No one's illegal tho are they? Humans can't be illegal...' until they pick up the pace and move on.

A bunch of teenage JKR fans on the train will COMPLAIN that they should have got an uber to their destination instead of the train. You smirk out the window while they physically seeeeethe in the seats beside you. The threat is vague in an overly-sanitised kind of way but you grew up in the 80's so literally nothing they do or say fazes you.

Harmless white ladies going to the same protest as you will *accidentally* slap you on the wrist on the tube under the guise of it being too busy/unstable to see what they were doing. You know a reprimand when you feel one though and find somewhere else in the carriage to be. You also already know you'll have to dodge their football hooligan sons on the journey back.

Men in the Local Turkish place will yell 'Sister!' at you to see if you turn around and then bump into each other tryng to scurry back into the stockroom to avoid being seen in the purest act of the most boys will be boys thing ever. They still can't guess where you're from and you can tell it's bugging them but you're not saying anything either.

[shamsshamousa]

Figured that writing down my thoughts here is better than posting it on TikTok.

Ok

I recently expressed my frustration when trying to do research surrounding Islamic Egypt, specifically about Egyptians. This is a branch in the overall frustration that I’ve faced. Despite it all there’s a sense of catharsis when i struck gold with the visuals/clothes but they’re shallow and lack context.

Anyway

I’ll walk through my thought process about this character I’ve designed

1) STARTING POINT

Just for some context, her inspiration is a bit of a mess as I kept changing her from being Khaleeji coded to Egyptian coded as I was trying to figure out what kind of character I wanted her to be. The only consistent thing is her family gatekeeping powerful artefacts that a falling apart with some characters that’s a larger aspect of her character arc. There was this one song I kept playing on repeat because it just fit her so much and it felt so good imaging beats of her story arc to it lol.

A bit of a fun fact: i’ve been reconsidering whether she’s a necessary character anyways, even though she has close relationships with the characters, I feel myself falling into some traps and I’ve started questioning her character’s purpose but that’s probably because of the media I’m currently exposed to, hate to admit it but I’m so easily influenced like that.

Ok back to it

Design wise she’s a bit of a mess not very happy with it but it ties back to me struggling to find references. In all fairness me going back and forth between Arab/Egyptian and sometimes Ottoman(Turkish) didn’t really help.

I’m not entirely sure when the design on the left came to be and looking at procreate canvas info isn’t very useful but the starting point was the girl in the middle who resembles another character who I was happy with (at the time), I wasn’t very fond of her design because I felt like she looked a bit too girly and young, this is very much a reoccurring Skill Issue for me, but the main pain point was how … generic she looks and a bit modern. The other is that she felt very disconnected from other characters who I designed at the time such as this character (Shayma’) below who is quite integral to her story but is also her childhood friend. I felt like it was imperative that they felt like they belonged in the same kingdom and social class.

Shamya’s has a lot more thought put into her and I used many references, at the time she had the design that I was most satisfied with but now I feel like I need to rework it a bit because I dont’ want her to feel like a 1:1 copy of the pictures I used. Something I’m struggling with.

So I went back to the drawing board and with some research and hoarding pics on Pinterest ended up with the reference on the left. IIRC I wanted her to be more..Arab I was unsure about how i wanted this fictional world (or at least kingdom) to come off as; I believe the main inspiration was from non-description Arab/Islamic soldier illustrations. I wanted to hint at her potential fighter side and many of them often have a cape as is often the case in many historical Arab fighter depictions.

The colours are very random idk why I picked those.

With respect to her robe, I wanted my characters to feel like they were related, at the time it was imperative that the MC felt like she belonged to the same kingdom as the rest.

The sleeves being inspired by an illustration on Fatimid plate (x)but mostly Mameluke illustration

Again I’m honestly not sure which one came first but the MC’s design is more inspired by Mameluke manuscripts and other historical Egyptian-Islamic garnements. I’d like to think that the queen’s design followed up from the MC’s but there’s also a real possibility that I just saw a few pictures and went “good enough” irrespective of the MC. Her sleeve details dont’ strike me as very khaleeji anyway.

Just a small disclaimer, most of my uh “research” led to me looking up pictures on Pinterest it’s very useful because the webite bundles up similar looking pics together. Once you find reference you found all them essentially it was a very powerful and useful website for me but, unfortunately people have a habit of not citing so it pains me to carry that habit here. But most of the illustrations are from a Mameluke manuscript.

I don’t want a 1:1 recreation of what used to be, I want to create a world that feels distinct and has a strong identity. Maybe this is me being a bit arrogant but I feel like because the time period inspiration is rarely ever used…might make it easy compared to drawing from English or Japanese culture/history.

I feel like it has to be said, my characters while yes are drawn from Egyptian history are not…Egyptian or Muslims (or Christians) they live in a fictional fantasy world and have fictional fantasy culture and their fictional kingdom draws on Egyptian history and culture(s)

I don’t want to go into depth about how both characters relate to each other but the main idea is that they both occupy the same “country” so to speak, maybe this is a concept I should rethink in and of itself.

Back to the Princess/Queen

I know I just went on about Mamlukes and Egypt but ironically she was supposed to be a bit more Arab, to me she embodies this “Rich Arab Princess” vibe just mainly thought the hair and face shape, it’s very much the ideal (rich) Khaliji Arab Woman (online).

There’s a very high likelihood of me misremembering so much, I’m not sure which one came first but I think I may have mixed both the idea of Mameluke/vague Arab fighters together.

Clearly I wasn’t satisfied because I went on to make more designs

Ok so let me see if I remember this one…

After running errands in a district in Cairo that still has some farms standing at the cusp of advancing urbanisation, I decided to try my hand with a design that drew on some of the outfits I saw on display. My main issue was that she doesn’t look like royalty at all and even after giving some jewelry she still looks like a falaha/fala7a and a bit too homely for me. If the design was for a “village princess” or “bint el 3omda” it would work but for a Princess/Queen that resides in her kingdom’s center of power maybe not.

At least I think for the average Egyptian there’s nothing that hints at “royalty” so this design didn’t really last much.

Just some more line art details, I was trying to play around with her embroidery details but it didn’t give the vibe I wanted.

Kind of abandoned her for a bit and imagined her a bit closer to the left design on the left looking very much Arab but at this point the Kingdom’s inspiration was moving more towards Egyptian based and I was becoming more open to using Ancient Egypt for her, feels inevitable really.

Tried going back to making a comic, just one page I was messing around and this was the design I used for her.

Was she in court? In her palace? meeting her friends in secret because she’s about to send them on a dangerous mission? Who knows

A few days ago I went back to the drawing board with her and while I have mixed feelings about her face I think I managed to capture the overall feel. I’ve also integrated a lot more Ancient Egypt to her for a while I was using elements of Isis in the vein of how Cleopatra channelled Isis imagery to solidify her rule as a Pharaoh and the idea that Pharaohs believed themselves to represent the Gods. I’ve been playing around with that concept for a bit but I’m a bit hesitant with it. How would a child feel knowing that she embodies the will and power of a deity? How can she be sure of it? While questioning her own rule.

I think I’m getting closer to a version of a character I’m satisfied with and I’ve been having fun outlining her arc but I continue to struggle writing her interpersonal relationships mainly with her brother, friends, and potentially lover. It all feels so amateurish but I think her brother is the least throughout. I don’t even have a picture of him.

Anyway the other inspiration is Egypt and after coming across this picture it just felt right, the main inspiration is from the lady on the left despite it looking a bit more like a costume but I really have no way for knowing because the picture is from Pinterest and people rarely give much context. Doesn’t help that they’re from Egyptian nationalist accounts who just care about visuals.

The more I look at it the more sure I am that it’s a costume for a film and I feel so stupid. Her robe/galabeya is too shiny and the way her belt is tied feels intentional in provoking Ancient Egypt but idk maybe I’m just looking too much into it.

I also mixed it with another reference picture I found, thankfully I’ve been able to amass more references but again they’re shallow and devoid of context.

Anyway her is her current design.

You can see similarities with the photograph from the left mainly the vest and belt but now that I’m looking at it I the cuffs share similarities although I didn’t focus on that.

Dramatically changed her hair style. She currently has curly hair and I gave her a staff that’s usually on mummies lol and gave her yellow eyes because she’s so oh special.

Yellow eyes and a brown character? How daring

I feel like her skin a tad darker than I want it, she spends too much time in doors before everything goes to shit (for her) so early on I don’t think she should be this tan.

I’d like to think that her most recent iteration blends elements of Ancient Egypt and Islamic Egypt.

The design on the right is meant to be very ceremonial, she might be at a meeting getting bored to sleep or listening to some elites quarrel about their problems. One day she’ll be looking back at those boring meetings wishing they lasted a little longer.

Anyway

I wanted to share or document my thought process somewhere

[gracelaramusings]

Day 9: Mellow in Port Barton

Wake up naturally, no alarm, to the sound of crashing waves. Crawl out of bed and sit on the terrace overlooking the beach. Dig out the electric spoon and metal mug to make a Turkish coffee. Boil the water, add a heaping teaspoon full of black gold, complete with cardamom. Sit back and take it all in. Breathe the sea air in deeply. Listen to the sounds all around. Vacation. Heaven.

We make our way out, with a world of restaurant options open to us. What are we in the mood for? Would you believe… onion rings? Damn, they were good. Not a nutritious breakfast I know, but they perfectly hit the spot. I also ordered a vegetable curry to satisfy the “I should also eat something healthy” twinge of guilt, but it seems they didn’t have the ingredients (or needed to start to go shopping to get them) so when they apologized that it would take a long while, my fullness overcame the guilt and we cancelled the order, letting them off the hook.

After breakfast, we wandered a few shops down from the restaurant place to a place that rented mopeds. We heard that there was a waterfall a few kilometers away, so what better way to travel than on our own, wherever we might choose to go.

We made our way to the waterfall entrance. In Philippines, it seems, there is no fear of leaving your helmet with your bike. It will be there when you return! We walked a bit and came across what seemed to be an ad hoc entry, where a family or the state- who knows- accepted a “donation” for entry. Signing in, I wonder to myself, why do they need to know our age?

We walked along the well-kept path some twenty minutes until we reached the waterfall. Not overly crowded but by no means alone, we found a rock where we peeled off our clothes down to our bathing suits and braved the wonderfully cool water. I swam to the falls, and scrambled up to a point where I could lean back and let the water pound my head, then my back and my whole body. At one point the serenity led to a bit of fear— what if a rock was in the pounding water? But I let that fear slide away with the water, and enjoyed the wonderful natural massage.

An adorable group of what appeared to be lifelong friends from Spain arrived, seemingly in their 60’s plus. I thought to myself, what a wonderful place to come with girlfriends!

After we had our fill of falls, we walked back to bike, helmets still there, and started the ride back, this time heading south of Port Barton, to a nice beach we heard about. The paved roads turned rocky, and we eventually found ourselves at a beach where pigs were roaming. Many young people were there, enjoying the pristine white sands and coconut palms.

And for the first time this trip, we heard Hebrew! Finally, Israelis!

We came across the wonderful small groups of Israelis, at least one of whom was finally traveling after months of reserve duty. Our kids' age, we loved talking to them, finding about their travels and their plans, missing our kids, wishing they could be there, too.

A dip in the ocean, a nap on the sand, and we made our way back, returning the moped after a fantastic day of exploration.

We took a bucket shower (this time, not even a drip from the shower head) and put on our evening beach wear for a wander on the beach. This time I was on a mission, looking for grilled fish on the beach, memories of the table after table of the day’s catch on display in Sri Lanka.

While the variety and quantity of Sri Lanka was not here, soon enough, we found a place with a table filled with fish of many sizes, squid and more. We picked out one fish perfectly-sized for two, and waited for it to be cooked to perfection. Rice, soy sauce with fresh calamansi and hot chili pepper- simple and good.

Walking back along the beach to our terraced room, we called it an early night, and fell asleep yet again to crashing waves.

[hexenmond]

paying it forward, intergenerational version

It's absolutely too hot for anything and everything today but I still had the BEST day. The best.

And a large part of that was meeting up with my language tandem partner for the first time, and proceeding to have unbelievable amounts of fun speaking the most understandable and clear German I am capable of (pretty good I'd say) and also racking my brain for any and every tiny little Turkish phrase I could come up with on the spot, as well as trying to understand what she was saying (again, fine in German, spotty in Turkish). But gods, we had so. much. fun.

After three hours of that I'm kinda braindead now, but a nice little thing I realised is this part of adulting where I am now definitely and by a fairly large margin the older one, and I can just wave a hand and say, "it's fine, I'm paying" (like today), or "sure I can pick you up from the airport at half past one in the morning" (to my teenager), those kinds of things, you know? I have a driving license. 20 € is no longer an amount of money I need to stretch out over two weeks. Sure, I'll drive your friend home, we have a car and I want to do this for you.

It's not a big deal and honestly, I love this part of adulting. This is something you don't usually get to do in your twenties. In your twenties you're mostly still a teenager in that you may not have a car of your own, and money is still fairly tight. And I remember my parents, and an assortment of older friends, helping me out long past my teenage years (my mum still brings food almost every time she comes over), and I know others around me have been accommodated in much the same way.

Now I'm old enough to decisively, and easily, say, it's my turn. Don't sweat it love, I've got you. And don't you dare feel like you owe me – twenty years down the line, you'll do the same for the next generation of folks younger than you.

💟☮️😊

[theretirementstory]

12/5/2024 Another week has passed and with it my granddaughters 6th birthday. The date today is also another memorable one for me as on this date, 40+ years ago, I started working in the job which now pays me a pension 😀.

Looking back through my photos, I remembered my day out in Paris, with Pauline, way back in 2022. We went to see an exhibition at the “institut du monde arabe” being keen on architecture and a lot of Arabic stuff too, it was wonderful to see this beautiful building. We had a lovely day, as at the time Pauline was living in Paris and so was my guide for the day. It was the 27th February and we sat outside “The Panthéon” in the sunshine. What a year of holidays that was! Apart from the day in Paris, I went to stay in Mulhouse for three nights, from there I visited my Turkish friends in Strasbourg, visited the “Cite du train” in Mulhouse and the following day visited “Musee de l’Impression sur etoffes” (Textile Museum) in Mulhouse. In May I had a trip to London and visited so much I needed a holiday to get over that one. Then in August/September I was in the UK again visiting my family. Unfortunately that was the last time I was there, as my trip last year was cancelled due to being in hospital. Reading all that I did, I really wondered how I managed it!

I think I have mentioned before about how not just the lyrics but the music speak to me on records that I love. This week, it’s a virtuoso guitarist, Gary Moore, and the first song is “Still Got The Blues For You” which is from April 1990.

The second song is really Gary Moore’s signature song, it’s from 1978 and it’s “Parisienne Walkways” either sung by Gary Moore or Thin Lizzy I just love this song and I think it fits in well with my current abode.

Pauline paid me a visit yesterday which was lovely. She stayed just short of three hours by which time I was really bushed. She is flying to Italy tomorrow to stay with a friend before returning to Barcelona to start a new job on the 21st of the month.

Thursday was the day of the 32nd fete des plantes at Bergères, a small village that comes alive once a year with stall holders plants, fabricated items for the garden and the chance to rub shoulders with the Mayor of Bar-sur-Aube and sometimes the Mayor of Troyes. This year Mme Marine Le Pen paid a visit, with her bodyguards. I saw photos from the local paper but everyone I spoke to who had been there seemed to have missed her!

My knitting group friends attended the “Champagne Party” at Urville, they had tables selling knitted, sewn, crocheted items, woodworked items and the stained glass items always take up more of the stall than anyone else! The market was over two days, I don’t think they will have sold much, they hadn’t on Friday!

For those in the know, the market was not in the famous Drappier Champagne House but in another champagne house in the village.

“The Photographer” was out photographing the aurora borealis on Friday evenng. Then had to be up early to take his son to a birthday party at a farm, while his sister had her birthday party with friends. It has been great to see my grandson climbing on hay bales. We even had a video call while he was there.

“The Trainee Solicitor” had a good four days at work. He is on the lookout for a cheap car as he starts his Uni course at the end of May and needs “wheels”. He had a good day yesterday, doing some relaxing.

“The Reconnect Navigator” was bushed with her 4 day week but had a lovely time visiting her family, watching football and just generally catching up.

“The Jetsetter” arrived in Vancouver not feeling great, she thinks she picked something up on the plane. However, it didn’t stop her popping over to Vancouver Island and down to Seattle (as you do). I am sure she will be having a fantastic time and more of her adventures will be discovered.

So as I am stuck in this hospital for not quite sure how much longer, it has been nice to share with you again what has been happening in the wider world.

I will be sticking my nose into another Ian Rankin “Rebus” book finding myself in “Auld Reekie” again.

Have a good week until next week.

The Pantheon in Paris.

[legacyofacat]

[8] Where Your Core Rests (Kongō x Reader)

Can also be found on Ao3 (completed), Wattpad and DA. Since I've rediscovered my FanFiction.net account, starting next week, the story will also be available over there!

Warning: cringy chapter title ahead

First Next Last

Difficult Emotions

It was strange, Kongō thought, as she entered the port building.

She thought it would hurt more to be back here, to be here without Maya, especially, when she glimpsed the white of a piano while passing the lobby, but that wasn’t the case.

Hyūga led them into the room where they had first shared real, actual tea, and asked everyone to settle down while she went to prepare the tea.

They did as she asked: the human beside Kongō with Luigi on their lap, Takao next to them and on the opposite sofa Kirishima, who had to climb up there like a mountain climber Mt. Everest.

„So, uh, Kongō“, Kirishima began in hopes of breaking the really awkward silence, „how have you been?“

"Quite good", the atmosphere didn't really get better, "how about you?"

"M-me too, ah…", she was really trying her hardest here, man, "so… how did you two meet?“

„They found Nagara“, the human beamed nervously at that, „and Nagara found me.“

„Wait, you found Nagara?!“

Hadn’t she been lying infront of Japan? Where and how did that human even have the chance to collect her!?

Said human was looking unsurely from Kirishima to Kongō, to Takao who looked interested as well, back to Kongō and then again to Kirishima: „Uh, yeah?“

The pink teddy bear was almost gaping: „How??“

„I’m… thief?“

Hyūga chose that moment to re-enter the room, a tray with tea balanced on her arm: „My my, our star student picked up a criminal“, she set the cups down and took a seat beside Kirishima, smiling, „well, the more the merrier. Please enjoy.“

„Thank you?“

Kongō just barely resisted rolling her eyes — she was accustomed to Hyūga‘s  antics by now — and took her cup, bringing it to her lips.

„Remember, it‘s hot.“

That didn’t mean that Kongō wouldn’t like to punch her in the face though.

Kongō said sweetly: „I know“, then took a sip.

The other fast battleship looked disappointed at the missing reaction, so she turned to the human finally: „Could I have the shard, please?“

They looked at Kongō unsurely and only handed it off once she nodded, saving their tea from Luigi (or, well, saving Luigi from literal boiling water) immediately after.

Luigi tried to press against the hand on his chest for a while, pouted and then settled down again, following the cup with his eyes like a literal hawk.

„Thank you“, Hyūga clapped into her hands once, „let us talk a bit before I go to analyse it, yes?“

Kongō wanted to cry. Her and Hyūga got along a bit better after all that time, but the blonde still really did not like her.

She glanced at the human next to her and the cat on their lap, patting his head once which earned her a happy nuzzle in return.

I-401 give me patience .

"How did you two meet, hm?"

"Oh, that's really not that interesting of a story", Kongō’s companion said, "I heard some rumours and tried to steal from some rich dude, but they were false and I accidentally found Nagara's Union Core instead", they shrugged, "Lui and I decided to help her find Nagara but she really… didn't need our help."

At all. If anything, the two had been morale support more than anything. 

Luigi meowed an affirmative and then padded over to the daybed standing in the corner to jump on and curl up.

His friend hissed: "Lui!"

"It's fine, it's fine", Hyūga smiled, "we never had a cat here before, so he must be bored."

"Nevermind that", Takao finally made the group remember her existence, "that sounds like an interesting story."

"Really??"

What do you mean 'really'!? , the girls thought. Even a complete moron would have known that that was the complete opposite of 'not that interesting of a story'!

Takao cleared her throat: "Anyway, what is that cat?"

He was massive. Almost none of the people in the room had ever seen such a big cat.

"A Turkish Van cat!", the human’s eyes started shining instantly, "also known as swimming cats. He's gonna grow even bigger!"

"He is!?"

"He's barely two years old since…", they trailed off and looked at Kongō, "Ojō-sama, when did we celebrate his birthday?"

"About two weeks ago."

"Oh, right! He's gonna grow until he's three or five, actually – I think all big breeds are like that."

The Mental Models of the Blue Fleet felt their eyebrows rise in tandem when they heard 'Ojō-sama'.

Hyūga seemed satisfied with the information given, however, and rose to her feet: "Why don't you all go to the beach while I start analyzing the shard? I'm sure you could all need a moment off after all that excitement, hm?"

"Oh, sure, thanks", they said, unaware of the reenactment Hyūga had created for whatever reason.

Curiously, she most likely didn't really have ill intentions and was perhaps even trying to help (Kongō wouldn't mind not having her help).

"Do you need help?", asked Takao boredly.

Hyūga had already left the room so she had to call back: "No. Go dress up for your captain~"

The heavy cruiser blushed so hard, her head seemed like it was short of exploding: "What are you talking about!?"

While Takao was busy tsundereing away, Kongō decided that they might as well get this bullshit over with, grabbed the human's hand, picked up Luigi, motioned for Kirishima to come with them and led the group out of the room.

As soon as they left it, Kirishima visibly relaxed and let out a big breath: "I thought you were going to kill her."

"Me too."

"Huh!?", Kirishima looked at her sister, shocked.

'You can’t just admit things like that, Kongō!!', she thought.

The human had picked up on Kongō’s displeasure as well: "Did something happen between you two?"

"Our relationship got better, actually."

They patted Kongō's hand: "I fear that I believe you…"

Kirishima coughed into her hand (paw?) and went to rush off: "I'm going to get Haruna and Makie!"

"Oh ok", they looked at Kongō again, "are you alright?"

She sighed: "I'm fine."

If you say so .

"Do you want to take your child back?"

The child was Luigi, of course, and he didn't look happy at the prospect of having to leave the fast battleship's arms – at all.

He was so shocked at the simple proposal, that he choked on his spit while purring and was left wordlessly looking at the blonde as if she had decided to hand him to a serial killer.

Kongō looked back, equally bewildered: "I'm sorry??"

"She's not handing you back, don't worry."

He meowed at his friend as if asking 'really?'.

"Yes, really", they showed the hand intertwined with Kongō's, "You're too big to be carried by only one of my weak ass noodle arms."

"Oh, I'm sorry-"

"Nonono!", they stopped Kongō from retrieving her hand by clasping it with both of theirs in a death grip, "I like it when you hold my hand!"

They felt a blush rise to their cheeks under the intense gaze levered at them and averted their eyes: "I, um… yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well then", Kongō moved them forwards (while still holding hands!) with a completely unbothered air.

She's still so so cool! , they couldn't help but think.

"Where are we going, Ojō-sama?"

"The beach."

"We really are!?"

She looked back: "Where else would we go?"

Well, Hyūga did tell them to go to the beach and since they were essentially guests in someone else's home that was definitely the polite thing to do, but wasn't that kinda weird? 

Just… chilling at a beach while Hyūga was doing hard work?

To get over their little spout of guilt, they followed Kongō like a good little chicken and asked the first question that came to mind: "How do you guys know each other? I mean! You're obviously the Fog and all", they made some vague move with their free hand, "but you- uh… seem to know each other better than that, does that make sense?"

It probably didn't, but the fast battleship was gifted with the present of exactly zero fucks given since a pretty long time already: "I know what you mean. When I-401 sank Hyūga, the members of her fleet were transferred to mine but defected soon after. Due to… unfortunate events, I-401 and I ended up fighting each other."

There was… a lot of past pain in her words – like an old scar that wasn’t actively hurting anymore but still a constant reminder of pain – but also clear fondness whenever she spoke of Iona.

"...Were you and I-401 friends?"

"I think so", Kongō was displaying the biggest and most honest smile since the two had met and it made the human’s face melt, "I wish I had come by to share tea more often, though."

So she sank? That's sad…

They admired Kongō for many things, but in this moment they were most of all impressed by her ability to talk about a dead loved one with almost no trace of sadness in her.

Instead of spouting soulless words like 'I'm sorry for your loss' or 'she'll always be with you' they leaned closer to the Mental Model.

She looked at them, amused: "Are you sad?"

"Yeah…"

"Annoying", that made them look up to a Kongō touching her chest where a heart would be, "I-401 and I are always connected, after all."

Kongō’s victorious smile was enough to make the human beam as well and Luigi to bonk his head against hers.

"Will Hyūga need long to analyze the shard?"

"Most likely not, why?"

Now it was them dragging the other forward: "I've never been at a real beach! Let's enjoy this as much as we can!"

Kongō wanted to say no at first but… something about that child was oddly intriguing

[anapotatowriter]

Hi!! Hope you're doing well, Could I ask for a Edmund x female reader fanfic based on the song "All night" from The Vamps? I don't know if u accept this type of asks based on songs but it would be so interesting!! Thank u, have a nice day ✨💛

All Night

Edmund Pevensie x Reader

A/N: Hey! First request, people! Hey bestie, I hope you like this story. If you don't, feel free to message me, and I'll make whatever changes you would like!

Summary: Edmund Pevensie is in a bad place, until he meets a girl who makes his world spin. This is a songfic.

Contains: Pure fluff, a bit of mentions of a breakdown, swear words (damn), and comparisions to angels.

Requested: Yes

I've been up all night, no sleep

'Cause I feel like I'm always dreaming

"You'll never get rid of me," cackled the Witch. I stood helpless as she killed my family and friends. "Isn't this what you wanted, dear? For Turkish Delight and a Kingdom? You'll always be my king," she said, making chills run up my spine. Suddenly, I snapped out of the dream and woke up in my bed in a cold sweat, despite how cold the room was. Ever since winter had come again in Narnia, night terrors seemed to have been plaguing me everywhere. I had been awake for days, avoiding the nightmares that seemed to follow even during my waking hours. I looked out the window in my room to see snow caked onto the windows. I shivered and pushed myself out of bed into the office, beginning the work due, yawns constantly interrupting my work.

Sometimes I tend to lose myself

When I'm out here on my own

I never seem to get it right

But I guess that's how it goes

"Damn it," I muttered, crumpling up another sheet of paper. "Why can't I get this right?" I muttered into my palms, brushing my hand through my hair in exhaustion. I began drafting the ideas for my motion again before crumping up the paper and throwing it hard against the wall. "AGH!" I yelled agitatedly. "What's going on?" asked Peter, walking into the room, golden crown glinting on his head. "I'm not able to draft this," I sighed, exhausted from the constant work and lack of sleep. "I can see that," he said while raising his eyebrows, looking around the room to see several pieces of crumpled-up paper. "How about we play some chess? Maybe you just need a distraction," commented Peter. "Fine," I said, getting up and getting my chess set. I looked up to see the white snow covering the sun, making goosebumps rise on my skin and guilt fill up in my heart. I shrugged off the feeling and went to the courtyard, setting up the board. After playing for a while, Peter proclaimed, "Checkmate!" I was stunned. "How did I lose chess? I never lose chess," I gasped, looking around the board for any method to get out of this situation. I slumped dejectedly onto the ground, tired. "I never seem to get it right," I muttered as I picked up the chess pieces.

Ever since you came around

Can't nobody hold me down

You showed me how to find myself when I needed it the most

Wide awake, that's okay, as long as I'm with you

"EDMUND, IF YOU DON'T GET TO THE GREAT HALL RIGHT NOW," threatened Susan as she stormed into the office. "I don't get care about the Winter Ball, Susan," I said, trying to get the strokes in the document perfectly right. "Edmund, this is to celebrate our arrival in Narnia! Guests are coming, and you need to greet them," commended Susan, grabbing my arm and dragging me to the Great Hall. I was much too tired from the lack of sleep to protest, so I just let her take me away. Lucy grinned widely and waved at me excitedly, making me smile a bit. Soon, we were greeting dignitaries from different countries in Narnia. "We are honored to be hosting you," said Susan, gracefully curtsying as another royal entered the castle. The cold seemed to seep into my bones, the snow everywhere making my heart clench. "Hello!" said a cheerful voice, making me turn towards the source. My mouth fell open a bit as I saw the person standing in front of me. The cold, guilt, and exhaustion seemed to seep away from my mind as I looked at her. The girl in front of me was wearing a dark blue dress, which was simple in itself but made her look even more beautiful. Her E/C eyes glinted with mischief and warmth, and her H/C locks seemed to fit her face perfectly (if applicable). "Y/N! It's been so long!" said Susan with genuine excitement. "It has been, Su," she said, hugging my older sister. Her voice echoed through my mind, sounding like m

"Hey, you're Edmund, right? I'm Y/N L/N!" said the girl facing me. "Hello Y/N, it's nice to meet you. Your dress is beautiful," I said smoothly, though my heart seemed to stutter in its beating. "Thank you, that's really sweet," she said while blushing, making my heart thump wildly. As she walked away, all of my siblings looked at me. "What?" I asked, trying the wipe the smile off of my face. "Your dress is beautiful," mocked Peter, making Susan and Lucy burst into giggles. "Shut up," I grumbled, ignoring them. Inspiration seemed to bounce around in my head as I ran to my office, finishing all the work I was struggling with just a few moments earlier. The sparkle in her eyes and the sound of her voice guarded me against the negative thoughts that never seemed to leave me.

Soon, it was night, and I struggled to fall asleep. Eventually, I gave up and went to the kitchens, hoping for food. I walked in, and the person inside yelped in surprise. "Wait... Y/N?" I asked when I noticed the girl. "Edmund! I am so sorry I scared you! I didn't expect someone to be here this late," she gasped, wiping her hands on the skirt of her nightgown. "No, no, it's fine. I was the one who scared you. Do you mind me asking why you are up so late?" I asked as I sat down on one of the counters and stole a piece of chocolate cake. She picked up the plate cookies she was eating again, sat down next to me, and said, "Nothing really. It' s a bit childish, but I'm feeling homesick," she shrugged, starting to eat again. "What about you?" she asked, turning towards me. I bit my lip before saying, "Nightmares." "Oh, I'm sorry. Nightmare's really suck," she said, placing her hand on my thigh. My breath hitched in my chest, and I smiled softly at her. "Now, let's talk about something fun, huh?" I asked, making her giggle. Soon, the sun was rising and I was still wide-awake. "Ugh, I am so sorry! We just kept talking all night," she gasped when she noticed the sun glinting through the snow. "That's okay," I said to her smiling. "As long as I'm with you," I said in my mind as I saw her laugh softly.

I'm never gonna find my way

If I don't learn to let go

The past is the past, today is today

And there's things I can't control

As the Ball neared, Y/N and I grew closer. However, as soon as I was away from her warm presence, the cold and the guilt seemed to creep up on me, completely submerging me in a pit of despair. "What nightmare did you have? That night?" she asked softly as we gazed at the Narnian stars above us, hands entwined. "Do you know my history with evil?" I asked hesitantly. She looked up and nodded softly, rubbing soothing circles on the base of my thumb. "Well, I get nightmares of... her, a lot," I said, running my fingers through her hair. "Ed. The past is the past, today is today. You have had a difficult time, more difficult than anything one should experience, especially at your age. Learn to let go, and understand that you can't go back in time to fix it. There are things you can't control, control the things you can. Starting with you," she said softly, laying her head on my arm. "Thank you," I said softly, the scent of chocolate and old books enveloping me.

The circles underneath my eyes

Tell the truth that I've been trying to hide

I've been waiting for you way too long

Won't you come and take me home

"Ed? Ed, wake up! EDMUND!" I heard a familiar voice puncture through the nightmare I was having. I gasped and jolted awake. I looked to the left to see Y/N standing there in a nightgown, a candle in front of her face. "I heard you screaming," she explained as she sat down on the edge of my bed, the green satin of her nightdress spreading onto my white sheets. She placed the candle on my side table and turned to face me. "Is that why you have these dark circles?" she asked, tenderly rubbing her thumb over the skin under my eyes. "You haven't been sleeping, have you?" she said, making me nod guiltily. "It's... it's the nightmares. I just can't deal with them," I said shakily, the nightmare still in the forefront of my mind. "Ok," she shrugged before climbing into the bed and laying down next to me. "What are you doing?" I asked, confused as she made herself comfortable. "Laying down with you. It's not much, but it's the best I can do," she said, pulling her hand through my hair as she placed her head on my chest. Her embrace made me feel at home, and I soon drifted off to sleep

Oh I, I'm praying this ain't all a dream

Can you, you, wake me up before you leave?

When I woke up, I saw her E/C eyes gazing up at me already. "Is this a dream?" I asked as I gazed into the love-filled eyes. It must be a dream, an angel like her wouldn't be here just like that. "No, silly! I was going to leave, but I couldn't leave without saying goodbye, and I didn't wanna wake you up," she said, giggling softly. I almost let out a sigh of relief at the fact that this wasn't a dream. "I know it's soon, we've barely known each other for 2 weeks, but I love you," she said nervously, looking through her eyelashes to capture my expression. "Well, lucky me. I love you too," I said, making her grin up at me. She slowly brought her face closer to mine and kissed me, making my heart beat faster as I placed my hands on her hips and kissed back.

I been up all night, no sleep

'Cause I feel like I'm always dreaming

As the girl dozed off in my lap, I brushed my hands up and down her back. Her hair was littered all around her like a halo (if possible), her face peaceful. Her arms were wrapped around my torso, limbs entangled with mine. I stayed that way the whole night, just admiring the way the candlelight made her look. "It feels like I'm always dreaming, when I'm with you," I said softly to her, as she continued to sleep comfortably.