#and if you aren’t italian you can also do it

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

luigi mangione, 12/04/24

diversity win! im bisexual and im going to kill you!

[chanaleah]

Today's Israeli claim to self-determination has no sense, since the vast majority of Israeli are Askenazi. They are litteraly mixed! And, have emigrated back to their land after over A THOUSEND YEAR. How can we still take seriously a claim to a land, you, supposevely, have habitated after a thousend? Gheddafi was right. Israel is a Rhodesia who has been succeful to replace the native population with white Europeans. Again, Askenazi are to be considered white Europeans, as they lost all of their middle eastern traits and completely mixed up with Europeans

again y’all let’s use our bestie Google!

the vast majority of Israelis are not Ashkenazi, which again, you would know if you took 5 minutes to do a quote Google search. But that doesn’t matter, because indigenity doesn’t expire.

Again, indigenity doesn’t expire.

The ancestors of today’s Ashkenazim were forced out of our land and prevented from coming back. But they never assimilated, and this can be seen in the food we cooked, songs we sang, and languages we spoke and prayed in.

How long must someone be prevented from returning to their land before they lose their indigenity? Are the Cherokee no longer indigenous to the southeastern US because they’ve been forced out of their land?

Not to mention that Jews maintained a consistent presence in א״י throughout the diaspora despite the constant empires trying to force us out.

Furthermore, while indigenity is not determined by genetics, genetic studies consistently show Ashkenazi Jews as plurally Levantine, and most every other Jewish diaspora group’s DNA is majority Levantine. This is corroborated by pretty much every reliable study of Ashkenazim.

Also, self-determination doesn’t require being an indigenous people. For example, Italians aren’t considered an indigenous people, but they do deserve self determination, and they currently do self determine in Italy. Jews have remained a distinct ethnoreligious group for around 3000 years, so just like any other ethnic group, we have the right to self determination. And our right to self determination doesn’t and shouldn’t alienate the rights to self determination of any other group.

Your blood quantum BS isn’t appreciated here, anon.

[finelinevogue]

life goes on

summary - just a tiny blurb of post tour engagement talk

a/n : this contains a very brief mention of cancer, so be aware of that xx

word count : ~1k

pairing : boyfriend!harry x reader

The sun was setting just down past the mountains.

It had been a busy day and everyone was exhausted. You had all gone on a couple of yachts out to sea to dolphin watch and then come back and swam in the sea onshore.

After the end of tour, Harry had invited all of his family out to spend a month together in his gorgeous Italian house in the countryside. It was perfect for everyone, because it had endless garden land, a hot tub and a large swimming pool. It was a great house for the kids.

Harry’s family’s children were hear, and could be currently heard running around the garden with Nerf guns Uncle Harry had bought them to play with.

Currently, everyone was sat outside on the large patio area. There were bean bags, L-shaped sofas and other various comfortable chairs for people to sit on and none were spare.

“H?” Gemma asked, “Where’s Y/N?”

“Toilet I think.” Harry answered.

“When are you and Y/N getting married then, H?” Harry’s uncle, Dave, asked.

Harry laughed in shock and a few people cheered to that idea.

A lot of people were nursing beers and a few others with various cocktails they’d made for themselves. You had helped Harry set up a help-yourself bar for everyone to make whatever they wanted.

Harry himself had a Corona in hand, with a lime in the top because apparently that’s the best way you take it.

“Oh, let them be!” Anne shushed her brother up. “They’re still in their honeymoon phase.”

Anne watched as her son got all shy, blushing as he thought about how in love he was with you. Anne smiled, knowing her boy would always be happy with you by his side.

“They’ve been in that phase for six years now. The poor girl will run if he doesn’t ask soon.” Dave piped up again.

“Y/N can ask me too, y’know.” Harry suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

“We all know you’re too romantic to let Y/N do that.” Someone else piped up, to which they all agreed.

“Heyy!” Harry protested, but deep down he knew they were right.

Harry had always wanted to get to ask you the big question. Being engaged and looking forward to his own wedding has been something he has looked forward to, ever since watching his first romcom.

Harry won’t settle for giving you anything less than the perfect proposal.

“I do want to be alive to see you get married, love.” Harry’s nan, Marge, chimed in, making everyone laugh.

“You will be, nan. I promise.” Harry held up his beer in promise to his nan. “And anyways, why aren’t you all nagging at Gem - whom is also still not married.”

Harry knew exactly why.

“Don’t believe in marriage, H.” Gem said. “Plus Michal says it’s too difficult choosing a ring.”

“That is true.” Michal nodded and agreed, making Gemma laugh and cuddle closer into his side on the sofa.

Harry looked at them and then towards the house, missing you after only two minutes. He wondered where you were.

“Have you gone ring shopping yet, H?” One of Harry’s aunts, Linda, asked.

“Yes.” Harry shot his head back around to face the conversation.

“Is it going to break the bank?” Dave asked.

“Nothing could dent that boys bank, Dave.” Linda laughed.

Harry smiled along, knowing the ring safely tucked away in his suitcase was just what you had asked for. It had been a reasonable price and it’s beauty outshone everything else.

“Y/N trusts me to pick out the right ring.”

“Good lad.” Dave nodded onto Harry.

“Excuse me a minute.”

Harry put his beer down on the floor and left his family to go in search of you.

He wandered into the house and because it was very open, he was able to tell you weren’t downstairs. He shouted your name up the stairs, but no one responded.

“Babe?” He called again, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

He was getting worried now and ran up the stairs two at a time. He wandered down the hall and straight into your shared bedroom.

No one was on the bed and no one was in the bathroom.

“Y/N?” Harry shouted again, a little more sternly this time. “Where the fuck is—”

He looked in and out of all bedrooms upstairs and the bathrooms too, but no sign of you.

As Harry rushed back down the stairs and opened the front door. He was ready to shout your name again when he saw you sitting the hammock by the front garden gate alone.

He closes the front door and furrowed his eyebrows as he walked quickly over to you.

“Baby? Where have you been?” He asked, dodging in between the cars as made his way to you.

You looked up at him and smiled, but it was one that did not reach your eyes.

Harry watched as you brought a small tissue up to your noses and wipe underneath. He put together, as he moved closer towards you, that you had been crying.

“Baby…” Harry said softly, coming down to crouch in front of you.

You swallowed a lump in the back of your throat and rolled your eyes at your own emotions. Harry was nothing but patient with you, waiting for you to gather up whatever thoughts you wanted to say.

Harry stayed crouched down in front of you, hands clasping yours to stop you from picking away at the skin by your nails - a nasty habit he was constantly telling you off for.

“It’s my mum. She’s back in hospital.” You sadly smiles, watching Harry’s face drop too.

Harry let out a tut and a heavy sigh, sagging his head in sadness.

“Cancer came back. She’s been in for a month and has only just told me.” Your words started to come out in splutters towards the end of your sentence as you began to cry again. “Fuck, m’sorry.”

Harry popped his head at your apology. “No, don’t you start apologising for things that don’t need an apology. Don’t care that this is celebrating post tour. All I care about is you and seeing that smile on your face. If you haven’t got a smile today, that’s okay but we’ll work together to put one back there again.”

You nodded your head in understanding.

Harry moved to sit next to you, laying you both down on the hammock. Harry sat so his feet still touched the floor, but you moved so your whole body was on the hammock and you could tuck yourself into his side. Harry rocked the two of you slowly and rubbed his hand up and down your back, whilst you closed your eyes and listened to the sound of Harry’s heartbeat.

“We can go see her when we’re back, can’t we?” You asked.

“Of course. Why do y’ask?”

“Just checking, in case you had music plans or anything.”

“Baby. You know I’m yours now for the foreseeable future.”

“I know.”

“We can go see her every day if you want.” Harry suggested, “And also. I don’t care what you say, I’m paying for any extra treatment and care to make sure she’s as comfortable as she can be.”

“Ha—”

“No I’m not arguing with you on this, love.”

“But…”

“Yeah, your butt is lovely, I know.” You could hear his smirk as he patted your ass lightly with his hand.

That put a little smile on your face anyways.

“Thank you.” You said softly.

“It’ll be your bank account someday soon too.”

And you smiled again, knowing the prospect of an engagement was soon approaching.

[ghostchems]

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part five

art by the incredibly talented @piaart!

author’s note: finally have this finished but man is it hard to be satisfied. i keep wanting to work on it and work on it but i also really wanted to get this out! also don't even know if this is good teehee. lots of awkward here. 4.9k words. part one/two/three/four. ao3 linky.

The date is going surprisingly well. You chose an Italian spot (ha!) and have had your fill of lobster ravioli and Cabernet Sauvignon all while you learned more about Dylan since he graduated high school. Went to a state school in the middle of bumblefuck, drank and drank some more, got overly into the college culture (emphasis on cult) and tipped a few cows in his time. It aligns perfectly with the slivers of information Catherine gave you through the years, though he’s mentioned nothing of the steady college girlfriend he supposedly had. Interesting. You laugh at his dumb jokes. You’re smiley. But it does feel like an act that’s partially fueled by alcohol and having someone’s attention on you.

He’s still talking but you’re admiring his small, button nose, how his brunette locks shape his face and his bright smile. You can’t help but think his face is a little too smooth, though. Has this boy been through anything meaningful? Has he suffered at all in his shiny little life? Your mind drifts back to Terzo’s rough hands and how they felt on you earlier that day. He forced you to your knees and it was clear that it wasn’t the first time he’s done so. You can still taste him on your tongue.

“You haven’t told me about your job! Aren’t you like an assistant?” Dylan snaps you out of it and you offer a shy smile.

“Yeah! I had to get out of that call center, man. It was like draining my life force. Not that this isn’t difficult but it’s nice to not be yelled at by some rando on the phone for hours a day.” You toy with your glass of wine.

“So, like what do you assist in? Is it just you?”

Huh. You’ve never really explained exactly what you do to anyone. Not even Catherine or Erica — you only really focused on Him. That won’t go over too well in this situation, will it?

“It’s just me and it’s mainly house maintenance right now. My boss’ place was a disaster when I started.” Perhaps the most watered down description of your job.

“So you’re like… you’ve cleaned it up?” There’s judgment in his voice that’s immediately sobering. He stares at you blankly.

“I guess I meant more like projects. The last big one was fixing up his yard. I had to manage the budget and scheduling of the landscapers and stuff.” Your voice is flat.

“Oh, okay gotcha.” Dylan nods and he is back to smiling. You’re seething on the inside. Was your answer acceptable to him? “What’s your boss like? Is he a guy?”

What the.

“Yeah, he’s a guy. He’s a little weird. Definitely eccentric. I’ve tried not to pry too much into his personal life, you know. Boundaries and all that, but when I first started he had me sort out some of his things and it looked like he used to be the lead singer in a band.” Another oddly phrased question. At least now you’ve been prompted to bring up the man you haven’t been able to stop thinking about.

“Oh, shit! That sounds awesome! What band?”

Oh, do you hesitate. A long silence stretches between you two.

“I’m… I’m not sure I should say. I don’t want to blow up his spot or anything.” You’re sheepish suddenly and Dylan notices.

“Aw, come on. Who am I gonna tell?” A good question. You drum your fingers on the table, thinking about how you’ve never really told anyone who your boss actually is.

“Catherine will tell me if she finds out.” A warning, last one until the big reveal. Dylan nods enthusiastically, some of his hairs falling into his forehead. For a split second you think that maybe if you were younger with much less life experience perhaps he would be perfect for you. But you know too much and you know that he wouldn’t be able to give you what you want. “It was Ghost.”

“Oh.” He makes a face and leans back in his chair.

“Oh? Sorry, is that not impressive enough?”

“No, no. It’s still cool. They’re just… I don’t know.”

Do you continue this conversation? Do you care what he thinks? You don’t…but your curiosity gets the better of you.

“What is it, Dylan? Are they lame? I’ve tried to… you know, not dig too deep into it because I feel like that would affect my professionalism.” That and you didn’t want to completely pry into the man’s life.

“Oh, I get that. Uhhh, I mean they’re not REALLY metal. They say they’re metal but they’re not so it’s just a little weird.” He shrugs and crosses his arms. You knit your brows together because you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about.

“Right. Okay.”

“Yeah, I mean, they are basically like pop. Not metal, not at all.” He sounds so impassioned and you nod along but it feels inappropriate. Why is he so pressed? It turns you off even more and you do everything in your power to get this date wrapped up. You are done drinking and you’re too full for dessert. Responses shorten and eventually you’re out front on the sidewalk waiting for an Uber. Dylan has insisted on waiting with you and hovers just a bit too closely by your side. He seems a little oblivious to how this date has gone, bless his heart.

“Well, this is me.” Awkward, so awkward. You move to get into the car but Dylan stops you by your arm and leans in for a kiss. It’s truly over before it starts, a quick peck before he pulls away with a smirk. You are dying on the inside.

“We’ll hang out again soon, yeah?”

“Sure. Yes.” You lie and hurry into the Uber, wanting nothing more than this wretched day to finally end.

Terzo blinks awake. The cool air of the night pricks his cheeks. Leaves crunch beneath his soggy socks. He coughs, blood spilling from his mouth and splattering on his thick chest hair. A robe hangs loosely from his shoulders. Terzo’s eyes drift down to his hand to see he’s wearing his black gloves with sharp, golden nails. He squints and there’s something black stuck to one of the points. Gaze drifts to where he is. His driveway. A breeze rolls by that sends shivers down his spine as his eyes focus on your car.

He’s slashed one of your tires.

Terzo cackles wildly upon this realization. This is new even for him and his weird, otherworldly tendencies. Could be straight up mental illness. He takes a few lumbering steps forward before crouching to eye the tire, surveying the damage. Completely shredded with the rim touching the ground. There’s a familiar buzzing in his skull, a buzz that he used to get while performing. How far he had fallen. Still, he’s delighted with himself. A fitting punishment for the way you crushed him earlier. What hubris you had for leaving your car on his property. Rage shoots through him for a quick moment, the thought of you spending the night with your date crossing his mind. Would this boy drop you off in the morning? He could plan for that.

In his fits of unsatisfying sleep, ideas for being cruel sprang to his mind. He’s settled on ignoring you for most of tomorrow, to have you toil away waiting for any kind of attention but to no avail. Terzo would be watching you the whole day, of course, hidden away in dark corners and peering down from atop the grand staircase. He has always been the best at sneaking around undetected out of all of his brothers, having avoided so many moments where his father could have reamed him out due to this expertise. Primo and Secondo weren’t so lucky.

Sharp pang in his chest from thinking about them.

No, no. He must focus on you. He pushes the thoughts back to the void. You’ll be trapped here at the end of your workday because of this, wouldn’t you? That’s when he’ll reveal himself. He’ll torture you. Tease the information of your date out of you.

How well could it have gone when you are so devoted to him?

The house is cold without him, a shiver running down your spine every time you found yourself in a dark corridor. You try to keep your thoughts to a minimum and are somewhat thankful that the contractor was able to come today. He’s a quiet man but seems to enjoy your cheerfulness which breathes life into an otherwise miserable day. Between directions and answering questions, you would wander the first floor and hover by the stairs, listening for any signs of life only to hear silence. The last time you saw him flits through your mind — the pressure of the hand on your neck that forced you to the ground seconds after he angrily spat in your face seconds after he kissed you. What the hell. You should be furious at him for treating you that way, for leaping over the carefully placed boundaries the two of you have been dancing around for weeks.

But instead you sigh dreamily. You burn for him. Cheeks grow hot just from thinking about his rough hands on you. You hope he’s okay. And you’re sure he is, he’s a big boy.

The fact that you’re more worried about his feelings than you are about potentially losing your job over this is not lost on you. You’ve lived in constant fear of getting fired over the smallest mistakes since the start of this job but you are oddly calm about this situation. This feels like a natural progression. There was going to be a time where you had to confront this strange connection and you would rather it happen sooner rather than later with the way things have been going. As painful as it would be (emotionally AND financially) to say goodbye to him maybe it would be best for it be sooner rather than later.

The day goes by at a painfully slow pace with no sign of him. Anxiety builds and builds as you watch your clock tick down on your phone. You’ve taken to painstakingly wiping down every single mirror on the first floor (there is an absurd amount of them) because it takes up time and gives you something to focus one. After a while interacting with the contractor becomes painful for you, too heightened to be able to function in a normal social setting. You send him home early with a smile, being Friday and all, and you continue carrying out your mirror mission. This takes you to around 4:30 at which point you say “fuck it” and decide it’s time for bed! What is the point of even being here anymore when you could be under your comforter with a pint of chocolate chip ice cream as you ponder your existence?

It was an easy decision.

You meander out the front door, making sure not to slam it shut but have it at least be somewhat loud to announce your exit. Yes, you are stooping that low. A quick wave of relief washes over you because you made it. The day is over and while the issue looms you are at least out of his domain. Car keys jingle in your pocket. You make quick work of the walk from the porch to your car until the state of your tire stops you in your tracks.

“Oh my god!” You’re in disbelief. It’s like an animal chewed through the rubber. Your rim is on the ground. Tears start to well up in your eyes. This is it. This is the thing that’s pushed you over the edge today. A frustrated screech bubbles up your chest.

“Come back inside.”

You freeze as soon as you hear his voice. Spinning on heel, you turn to face him. He’s standing with his arms crossed, leaning against a column on the porch. His dress shirt is the darkest black you’ve ever seen, partially unbuttoned to show off thick chest hair and cut slacks show off his strong thighs. Did he get dressed up for you? His paint is crisp and hair is slicked back neatly. Fuck, he looks good*.*

“I can get an Uber?” A question as if you’re asking him permission, taking a few tentative steps towards him.

“Hmmm. No. I’ll call you a driver.” A rough response but you can’t help but feel warmth blossom in the pit of your stomach. “Get back inside.” Terzo growls, his gaze stern and pointed. He leaves you alone in his front yard. You feel silly by how hard your heart hammers in your chest but this is what you’ve been wanting all day. A moment passes by and you work up your courage to go inside and take your punishment. Thoughts of your shredded tire fade.

You walk inside the foyer and follow the sound of clinking glasses, finding him at the bar in the den. Terzo’s gaze falls to you then he directs you to the couch with his eyes. You silently follow the order and sit on one of the couch cushions furthest away from him. There’s a lump in your throat, fidgeting with your hands as you wait for him to join you. Eventually he turns around to face you with two drinks in his hand, one a red martini with a lime green umbrella and the other a pint full of something gross looking - not beer but still brown? His face is blank and you try to match his energy but it’s hard to keep your blush at bay. You reach out to take the martini from him but he pulls it back out of your grasp and instead presses the pint into your hand. The smell fills your nostrils: whiskey. Yuck. He runs a hand through his hair as he takes a seat on the other side of the couch, allowing for plenty of space between you two.

“You’ve called the driver already, right?”

“Yes.” He rolls his eyes but you’re still not sure you believe him.

Terzo’s arm stretches across the back of the couch, gloves just brushing your shoulder. Your grip on your whiskey tightens. This isn’t his usual charming aloofness, there’s something cold and cruel bubbling beneath the surface. Still, you want nothing more than to speak to him, even if he’s obviously pissed at you. He lifts his other hand up to his face, admiring the sharp golden nails adorned to his leather gloves. Eyes slowly drag from them to settle on you, gaze so piercing and yet uninterested in you.

“So, you had him pick you up here, si?”

“Yeah, but—“

“Drink.” He points at your glass and narrows his eyes. Not playing around. You do as he says and take a sip. “Keep drinking.” Lip twitches in a faint show of satisfaction as you bring the glass up back to your lips and take a deep gulp. There’s delight in his eyes and you’re more than happy to play the game just to see more of it. Your eyes twitch and you cough once you set the glass, the whiskey burns your throat.

“It was convenient for him.” Words are rough from the sting of alcohol.

“Ohh, was it now?” Terzo growls and digs his nails into the couch, tearing into the fabric. The sound gives you goosebumps. You open your mouth but he’s too quick. “Finish your drink.” He snaps, daggers for eyes that sends a chill down your spine. You swallow thickly and toy with your glass with the tips of your fingers before bringing it back up to your lips. Head tips back, the room swirls and you swallow down the rest of the liquid.

“Gross. Ugh.” Grimacing as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “It’s less of a drive for him and I’m a pushover, okay?” You sigh, only partially joking. His eyes noticeably soften. You sink deeper into the cushion. “I said yes to this date because it was with my best friend’s older brother who I’ve known forever and I’ve always had a crush on him.” Terzo’s fingers shift from the couch to your shoulder, his nails just short of tearing through your shirt, his anger coming back up to a simmer just below the surface, but you continue on unafraid.

“I had to see what would happen. You have to understand… you build the thing up in your head as something perfect and special but then when you actually actually experience it…” You deflate and you eyes wander away from him, wanting to look anywhere else. “It’s never as good as you imagined it. Plus, he was a garbage kisser.” You immediately regret the words as soon as you say them. They hang heavy in the air and the air catches in your lungs. You feel him shift on the couch but you can’t bring yourself to look until his his hand curls around by back of your neck and forces you to look at him. Eyes sharp like knives.

“You let him kiss you.” A statement, not a question. Terzo makes you watch as he slinks closer to you. There’s like a current coming off of him right now that has you paralyzed even though you so badly want to protest. You whimper, words getting caught in your throat as he reaches for you. He grabs you by your waist with the tips of his claws poking against your skin, that delicious danger teasing you as always. “How did it compare?” Terzo trills, a charming smile with vicious edge. Hoo boy. Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“It didn’t compare at all.” You whisper as you try to sink as far into the couch as possible. Not because you don’t want to be close to him but you’re confused. Everything about this feels like a trap, like one wrong answer could set him alight but you’re not exactly fighting it. Instincts are telling you to run but you stay exactly where you are. Terzo’s hand drift up your sides, suggestively squeezing you in all the right places until he’s holding you by your shoulders. He’s smiling wider than before and there’s glee in his eyes — he’s pleased with you. A torrent of heat shoots through your core. He doesn’t say anything, merely taking in your reactions to his touches. His finger tips glide across your top, nearly clipping right through it until his hands settle around your throat. He squeezes just enough to make you gasp for air, then leans in to you, pressing his forehead against yours. You can feel his hot breath on your lips.

Tease.

“I could hurt you.” Terzo muses against your lips, lashes fluttering and eyes wide. There’s a slight tug at the corner of his mouth. Silence passes comfortably between the both of you as you take in each other’s breaths and warmth.

“I know. I’m… afraid of that. But it’s why I’m here.” You feel drunk, the words just tumbling out of you but you don’t care anymore. He is so close to kissing you that you can nearly taste him but instead he pulls away with a wry smile.

“Your glass is empty.” Terzo snickers and then jumps up in a way that can only be described as cat-like, snatching the glass from your hands. You’re left hot and bothered as he turns his back to you to saunter over to the bar. Alone with your thoughts while you watch him pour you another generous whiskey. Oh no. Oh no. You can still taste it on your tongue and it is not for you. But when he turns around with the warmth and charm you’ve been wanting all doubts are gone. You’re going to be messy tonight and that’s just that. When he turns back to face you he’s at least given you half of what he did the first time, walking slowly over to where you’re sitting on the couch.

He looms over you as your eyes drift up to meet his gaze and he audibly growls. You suck in a sharp breath, your nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. Terzo lifts a hand up and brushes his thumb along your jaw before tilting your chin up. He brings the glass to your lips and tips it back. You part your lips, the whiskey burning as it spills down your throat. He continues to pour until you can’t keep up with it and it leaks out of your mouth and down your cheeks. You gasp and he flings the glass down onto the side table as he crushes his mouth against yours, unable to keep away from you any longer.

And you certainly don’t care that he all but purrs into your mouth, soft lips moving against yours. He cups your face with his gloved hands, leather thumbs caressing your cheekbones as he slips onto the couch beside you without breaking the kiss. Fingers curl around his wrist and you press in close to him, losing yourself in how he tastes. His velvety tongue probes your mouth as the kiss grows in intensity. Deep pants try to keep your feet on the ground but you’re off in space, exhaustion and comfort mixing in a way that has you floating. Terzo pulls away from the kiss and you can hardly open your eyes. He gently guides your head to his chest, stroking his fingers through your hair.

“You never called me a driver did you?”

“Oh no. Never considered it.” Terzo squeezes you in his arms.

Oh, he’s so warm. A rumbling groan falls from your lips as his wraps his arms around you, just holding you there. Your limbs relax and you sink deeper into his chest as he starts to rubs up and down your back. In that moment you know you’re a goner. A deep, sleepy sigh falls from your lips and in a matter of minutes you are out cold.

Terzo almost feels guilty for being such an ass. Almost. He feels for you, he can relate to realizing that something isn’t all it was cracked out to be. At least for you it was a childhood crush and not being raised for one person. But still, he was a tad mean wasn’t he? It was necessary and the tension… the tension had been so delicious. Watching you squirm under his intense stare. And you just did what he said, unquestioningly, even when had you drink and drink and drink. Adrenaline is pumping through him and he struggles to contain himself— he must not go any further, despite how tempted he is. He could get away with it. You’re so soft, so pliable and so wanting. Terzo can feel the heat radiating off of you, no doubt from the alcohol and your closeness. He could slip his hand between your thighs and give you exactly what you want.

But it wouldn’t be fair to you. Terzo wants you coherent and focused when he takes you. Plus you’re adorably snuggled against him right now, your soft breaths against his chest. He’s longed for this and you did not disappoint. Wait a minute. Are you sleeping? He is about to fall apart, his arms wrapping so much tighter around you. The urge to keep you safe, to keep you here and never let you leave overcomes him*.* He squeezes your hand that is clutched to his chest and then gingerly picks it up and places it back in your lap.

“Sleepy?”

You lift your heavy head to look at him and good god do you want to be asleep right now. A tender smiles breaks out across his face as he swipes some of your hair from your eyes. A stark contrast from how close he had just been to strangling you.

“Take the guest room tonight, puffetta. I will bring you some clothes.” Terzo pulls himself to his feet. “Meet you up there.” He’s so soft, so different than how torturous he was of you earlier. You’re sure he’s heard what he’s wanted to hear from you but he’s unpredictable. Something you liked about him. There’s an unknown darkness that lies beneath his charm and good looks and it calls out to you. You’ve never felt this way about anyone. How could you ever get away now?

You blink and realize that you’re alone. You’ve been alone. Oh shit. Scrambling off of the couch, you trip over your own feet with the effects of the whiskey hitting you hard.

Ah, the guest room. A cramped space with antique furniture that could use some time and attention. The overall theme of the room is… dust. You’ve brought up having the dresser refinished or even repainted and replacing the peeling wallpaper but it’s low on the list of priorities. You push the door shut and give a soft sigh of relief. Shoes come off. A lamp on the bedside table barely illuminates the room and a folded pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt are waiting for you on the bed. Eyes scan over the remainder of the comforter and pillows, wondering if anyone had ever slept here. You can’t help the feeling that you’re being watched but maybe the fact that you’re about to wear your boss’ clothes isn’t meshing well with the practically decaying room.

“Whatever.” You huff to yourself and undress with the grace of a toddler, kicking your pants off and throwing your removed clothes into a pile on the ground. Sitting down on the bed, you pull up the sweatpants and they are loose as they settle around your waist. The shirt slips over your head and swallows up your upper body. Did he purposely give you his largest clothing to make you feel small? It is so cozy, though. You wrap your arms around your body and flop back onto the bed, sinking into the softness of the blankets. Comfortable heat spreads across your skin from buzz of the alcohol. Limbs go limp and your eyelids grow heavy, a deep sigh falling from your lips. Fading fast.

The piercing ring of the rotary phone cracks through the air and you jolt upright and wide awake. What the? You don’t remember seeing it when you came in and it’s not like it blends in — it’s bright red with intricate black etchings along the base and the handle of the receiver. Not a speck of dust on it. The phone rings again, somehow louder and more harmful to your ears than before. You blink and suddenly you’re standing directly in front of the dresser with one hand curled around the receiver. Heart is pounding in your chest and ears. Something is calling out to you. Answer it. Answer it. Answerit. answeritansweritansweritanswerit.

You pick up the phone to silence. Then chittering. The receiver is hot on your cheek. Something pricks your ear but you can’t pull away. There’s a squelch. A screech. More screaming. It only gets louder and louder, needles in your ears, pain shooting through your brain. You can’t breathe. You twirl the phone cord around your fingers and shuffle your bare feet against the cold floor, the only thing you’re able to get your body to do other than press the phone so hard against your head. The closer you listen to the screams the more familiar they get, growing in intensity, pain and volume. Burning, the receiver is burning now and yet you can’t move, you can’t get any relief. The phone cord is nearly completely tangled around your wrist and you’re sweating, gasping for breath, and crying without even realizing it. The screams finally subside, replaced by a cold, dead silence.

You hang up the phone.

Suddenly, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion washes over you and you collapse onto the bed. The world spins as you sink into the soft mattress, the dial tone still echoing in your ears.

[charlessmiths-wife]

having donna brain rot so like…. have some headcannons if you want x these are mostly hcs of what I think a relationship would be like with her but there’s also some general ones in there!

DONNA HCS

CW!! brief mentions of PTSD/discussions of poor mental health

-> i think my personal take on Donna is that she’s very quiet/introverted at first, but the more comfortable she becomes around you the more she opens up. i see her as the silent but thoughtful type. she’s got a lot of care for those who mean a lot to her (so you!) but around those who she doesn’t like or isn’t as comfortable around this angel is absolutely silent. plenty of thoughts about how annoying they are, but they’re very rarely vocalised.

-> on that note, Donna hates meetings of the lords.

-> it’s not that Donna has awful relationships with the other lords of the village, I actually do believe they are relatively close in spite of the fact she prefers her isolation

-> it’s more so… meetings often showcase a lot of strong personalities… which lead to arguments (particularly Heisenberg and Alcina based arguments - this is affectionate bc I love them both x) that just stress Donna out.

-> i think (given how long Donna lived on her on with just Angie and the dolls for company) Donna didn’t really have anyone to open up to regarding past traumas or any issues that troubled her.

-> so when she first met you, and saw how much you cared about her… and how much you listened… she couldn’t believe it

-> literally.

-> I have a hc that shortly after coming clean to you about her feelings for you and beginning to grow closer to you, Donna… had something of an argument with you

-> she legitimately believed you were too good to be true. and you were some sort of cruel manipulation tactic sent by like Miranda or something to butter her up for some kind of scheme.

-> once you reassured her your feelings for her were genuine and you truly cared for her simply because you loved her… she broke down sobbing.

-> it broke your heart to see her believe so genuinely she didn’t deserve you. but that day did prove to be crucial in not only you guys’ relationship, but also Donna’s life.

-> not only did you manage to encourage Donna to seek help for her mental health struggles- but you also encouraged her to open up more to you.

-> and she does! she does both! and babygirl comes on leaps and bounds!

-> Donna’s past experiences will always be with her, but you managed to show her she’s deserving and worthy of a brighter future.

-> I like to imagine you guys love baking together, particularly Donna. She finds it relaxing.

-> and she’s AMAZING at it. and cooking.

-> omfg Donna is incredible at cooking.

-> she loves to make Italian dishes for you. and she gets Angie to help.

-> Just imagine walking into the kitchen to find Donna absolutely MASTERING the art of hand making your favourite meal… meanwhile Angies running around the kitchen wearing a small chefs hat and apron (that Donna made) waving a wooden spoon around as if it’s a weapon.

-> You and Donna do have to wrestle the spoon off of her later that night.

-> I also think Donna really likes music!

-> she owns an old record player, sometimes she’ll play a record for the pair of you and ask you to dance. you always say yes, how could you say no to someone so cute?

-> she’s actually a very talented person. you’re always reminding her of this, because sometimes she forgets.

-> the woman literally has an ear for good music, can bake, cook, CRAFT, sew, garden, write….

-> I also (for some reason) think she has some secret talent at chess. Like, she’s untouchable when it comes to that game. You don’t know how, but she wins every time, it’s entertaining to watch but it does mean board game nights aren’t really overly competitive x

-> her love language is absolutely words of affirmation.

-> please tell her how much you care about her, and how good you think she is. she will melt.

-> i actually think her default form of giving love language is a mixture of physical touch and gift giving.

-> she mightn’t always know how to tell you how much she loves you verbally, but she’ll write it in a poem and gift it to you or she’ll make you a gift or maybe even softly stroke your back in the mornings and it’ll all be clear

-> you never have to doubt how much she cares about you.

-> loves cutesy nicknames. call her ‘my love’ or ‘darling’ and watch her MELT.

-> (has a soft spot for the nickname ‘princess’.)

-> you and her are just so sickeningly sweet when you’re together.

-> you can spend entire days with each other in peaceful silence. just lying in each others arms and occasionally whispering how much you love each other, softly pressing kisses to each others lips cheeks and forehead. really anywhere you can.

-> Angie will roll her eyes and pretend to be ‘sick’ but she’s secretly over the moon. she’s never seen Donna so happy and confident in herself than when she found you.

-> it makes her happy to see. it’s what Donna deserves <3

AAAAGGGGG I AM SO SOFT FOR THIS WOMAN 😭😭😭

[janeyseymour]

Far From Home

for @jeridandridge

Summary: you're far away from home when you meet another Phillie's fan.

WC: ~3k

It’s just Melissa’s luck that her flight would get cancelled because of a hurricane sweeping over the Atlantic at this very moment. After a near brawl with one of the attendants because she insisted that it’s safe to fly (and it very much is not safe to fly), the redhead finds herself lugging her carry-on over to the restaurant bar with a huff.

“Whiskey, neat,” she sighs as she hands her card over to the bartender. “Please.”

“Flight get delayed?”

“Canceled,” she huffs. “They said they’d put me on the next flight out to Philly.”

“You’re a long way from home,” the bartender states softly. “Why you come all the way out here?”

“To Italy?” Melissa chuckles softly. “Because it’s Italy… and I was visiting my nonna.”

“So then why are you in such a rush to get back?”

“My baseball team is playing, and I have real nice tickets for tomorrow’s game,” the redhead explains. “Damn… they’re playing right now too. Any chance you get American sports to play over here?”

The bartender shakes his head. “But if you got an iPhone and can pull it up on there, I can cast it to the television so you can at least watch on the big screen while you figure everything else out.”

Melissa looks impressed and pulls out her phone. After a bit of work, the Phillies game is up on the screen, and the redhead is cheering along for her team with a beer now in hand.

Your flight from Italy back to the States was canceled. Of course it was. After a more than disastrous trip to Italy with your now ex-girlfriend, all you want to do is be in your apartment and curled up in your bed with a tub of ice cream and a glass of wine in hand. But now… you’re sitting in a restaurant bar while you wait for confirmation that the airline has put you on another flight home and seeing if they can put you up in a hotel for however long it will take to get back to Philly.

You have half a mind to go try to sleep off your exhaustion and anxiety, but something catches your eye. There’s a Phillies game on the big screen… in Italy? So, instead of finding a deserted corner, you sit down at the restaurant bar and pull out your phone. The bartender comes your way and pours you a drink when the Phillies are able to pull ahead of the Mets- the rival team.

“Hell yeah!” you raise your glass in the air with a smile. Schwarber was able to deliver again.

“You a Phillies fan?” the bartender chuckles.

“I bleed Philly,” you smile as your eyes stay trained on the screen. “Why do you even have this game playing? I didn’t think the Italians cared about baseball the way that Philadelphians do.”

“You aren’t the only Philadelphian in here,” he laughs as he points down towards the redhead at the other end of the bar, eyes also glued to the screen.

You cock your head to the side. “Wow.” She’s… really, really pretty. But you’re able to cover up that little gasp with the afterthought of, “Two Philadelphians in one little bar across the ocean.”

“She’s casting it from her phone right now,” the man tells you. Then he slides his way back down the bar to check on that beauty.

There’s something inside of you that wants to go over and talk to her- let her know that you think she’s beautiful. But… then you remember what you’re doing here. You just got dumped, and you don’t want to be that asshole who uses someone as a rebound. Especially not someone as stunning as her. So, you keep to your end of the bar while she keeps to hers. You don’t know it, but while you’re entranced by the screen and watching as Bryce Harper hits a ball that goes flying and Johan Rojas goes flying around the bases, she looks down to you, licking her lips subconsciously.

Your cheering at the screen as Rojas comes home and Harper slides into second pulls the redhead’s eyes from you and back onto the screen. Damn, she missed how that all went about.

She glances back in your direction, and your smile warms her heart. Deciding to take a leap of faith, she picks up her drink, gathers her bags, and makes her way down the bar.

“I missed what was happening,” you hear a voice. “Tell me what happened?”

“Rojas was on second, Schwarber and Realmuto struck out, and Harper hit a ball that found its way through. Rojas scored, Harper’s on second,” you recite the play, eyes still trained on the screen as Bohm tries to further the inning.

“Bohm’s gonna strike out,” the voice tells you.

“How do you know?”

“Just a hunch,” the woman sighs. The truth is that she got the notification on her phone that he struck out and the inning was over.

She’s right, and as a commercial comes on, you finally turn. You don’t expect it to actually be that beautiful woman from the other end of the bar to be sitting next to you now, eyes watching you with wonder.

“Wow,” you whisper softly.

“What?” she asks you.

“I saw you from across the bar and thought you were pretty, but,” you cough awkwardly. “You’re more gorgeous than I thought.”

The woman smirks, and her eyes sparkle. She sticks out her hand for you to shake while saying, “Melissa.”

“Y/N,” you tell her as you shake her hand. “The bartender told me you’re the one casting the game right now?”

“I am,” she tells you. “Born and raised a Philly fan from South. You?”

You break out into a smile. “Born and raised in the ‘burbs of Philly, moved to Center City Philly a few years ago for work… I’ve been cheering for Philly teams since I could talk.”

“Yeah?” Melissa chuckles.

After a few taps on your phone, there’s video of you at the age of two dressed in an Eagles cheerleader outfit and singing the fight song playing.

The redhead next to you grins as she watches. When it’s finished, she hands you back your phone. “That’s fuckin’ precious.”

You blush. “It’s… definitely something.”

She goes to say more, but the Phillies broadcast comes back on, and you’re both taken to the screen. The two of you cheer together and boo the other team together as the game continues. 

In between innings, you chat and get to know Melissa more. You come to find that she’s a second and third grade teacher at a public school in center city- one that you pass by on your walk to work almost everyday. You find that she knows a lot of people. You also find that she’s somewhat of a legend when it comes to the casinos down in Atlantic City- as it turns out, she’s the ‘Red Hot’ that you hear people talking about as you would mill around the casino floor. But you also learn that her eyes sparkle when she talks about the things she’s passionate about. You discover that her laugh is a source of happiness for you. You’ve also learned that her smile is something that could light up Center City Philadelphia all on its own. She has you absolutely enchanted with her being.

It isn’t until the bottom of the ninth inning when you recognize the fact that she’s holding your hand in anticipation, and she has been holding your hand since… since the first full inning that you watched together. 

When it’s announced that the Phillies won, she’s jumping up out of her seat and hugging you tightly. You of course embrace her back with the same ferocity.

But now that the game is over, nothing is keeping her from sitting next to you. And you feel… disheartened by that? Upset that she’s probably going to leave and you’ll never see her again? You don’t know.

It doesn’t matter though, because she’s sitting back down on her barstool, taking your hand again, and sipping her beer. “So…”

The two of you continue to talk for hours. It isn’t until both of your phones ping that you look away from each other.

“Uh,” you sigh. “They put me up in a hotel room, so I guess I should head out.”

“Me too,” the redhead breathes quietly.

“I had a really nice time watching the game with you,” you tell her softly. “Like… it made me feel like I wasn’t stranded in the middle of another country without a way to get home for who knows how long.”

“Where did they put you up?”

You rattle off the name of the hotel, and her eyes light up. “That’s where I am too. Should we split a cab to get there?”

When you do get there, she checks herself in and then helps you check in. It’s a sweet gesture, and your rooms are next to each other as luck would have it.

“Would you want to come in?” she asks you as she unlocks her own door.

You smile. “Just give me a few to settle in, but then I’ll be over.”

Melissa and you spend the rest of the day together, walking around the little city that you find yourself in, picking up beer and wine, and then spending the rest of the time in her hotel room drinking and talking about everything. It’s not anything like what you expected being stuck in another country alone would be like. You’re not alone now though, Melissa is keeping you company. A small part of your mind wonders what your ex-girlfriend is doing… because she’s stuck in Italy now too- probably finding the first woman who was gay and throwing herself at her.

You’re in a tipsy haze as the two of you lounge on her bed watching whatever show in English you can find. And then… her lips are on your own. Oh god. She’s kissing you.

You pull away gently and sigh. “Melissa, I-”

“I read the situation wrong,” she says immediately and pulls away. “I’m sorry. I- I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t read the situation wrong,” you promise her. “I just… fuck. I just broke up with my girlfriend, and as much as I am attracted to you, I don’t want to use you as a rebound.”

“Oh,” Melissa’s mouth forms into a small ‘O’. “Oh.”

“I don’t want to be the jackass who uses someone as beautiful and as sweet as yourself to rebound,” you say again. “I just… I’m not like that.”

She sits up just slightly. “I respect that. Thank you for… for not doing that.”

You just nod. “I suppose now that I made it awkward, I should see myself-”

“Stay,” the redhead tells you softly. “Just because we aren’t going to hook up doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy your company- as a friend.”

You settle back down onto the bed.

That was two days ago. In the two days since that kiss, you’ve still spent all of your unexpected time in Italy with Melissa. She’s… if you weren’t in the situation you’re in, you would be all over her. Maybe… maybe once you get back to the states and a respectable amount of time has passed. But for now, the two of you are getting ready to get on the flight back to Philly.

You’re not sure what strings she pulled, but you’re seated next to each other for the nearly nine hour flight. The two of you are already seated when your ex-girlfriend passes by, arm linked with a very pretty girl. She sneers at you.

“That her?” Melissa asks.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Already moved onto the next.”

“You could do better,” the green eyed woman smirks. “And you’re a better person for not doing what she’s doing to me.”

In your own dozing state, you feel Melissa’s head drop down to your shoulder, and it brings you a small sense of happiness. You let her continue to rest that way until you know her neck is going to be paying for it if she sleeps that way any longer.

“Mel,” you shake her gently. “Mel, you gotta wake up, or your neck is going to be killing you when we land.”

She blearily opens her eyes and looks at you, confused. Right… she’s wearing earplugs and headphones and can’t hear you. You type out on your phone what you’re trying to convey, and she nods. ‘Thank you,’ she mouths. It’s only a few minutes later that you feel her head again, although this time she’s laying across the middle seat and has her head in your lap. You just smile to yourself as you close your eyes again, a hand draping itself gently over her hip.

The next time the two of you wake up, the flight attendant is looking at Melissa very unhappily. The seatbelt light had gone on while you were both asleep, and you were beginning the descent. With a frustrated huff, the redhead sits up and buckles her seatbelt.

Once the plane lands, all hell breaks loose as it always does what with everybody in a rush to get off the plane and home. And in the chaos, you lose sight of Melissa. You go to text her or call her before you realize that you never actually got her number. The time that the two of you spent together was constant, and there was no need to be able to contact each other over the phone when she was always right next to you. Exhausted and frustrated, you let out a groan.

Deciding that you should probably just get your belongings and try to hail a cab to head home, you make your way to the luggage carousel. You wait for what feels like forever- hoping that Melissa will make her way over to you. Only once you’re positive that there is no more luggage on that particular belt do you give up and go home. You don’t know that she’s doing the same thing on the other side of the loop. There’s a pole blocking your sight. 

You think about her on the Uber ride home, you think about her while you eat dinner, you think about her while you’re preparing for bed and when you’re crawling into bed. You dream of her. You can’t believe you were stupid enough to not get her number after spending three entire days with her.

Similarly, in a townhouse not too far from where you reside, Melissa is kicking herself. She knows that you’ve just broken up with your girlfriend- she knows that you don’t want to use her as a rebound. And somehow, she’s still mad that she didn’t get your number. She… she wouldn’t mind being your rebound, and she doesn’t have a doubt that it would turn into something more than just a rebound… if she had your number to contact you. She supposes what happens in Italy stays in Italy. 

On Monday morning, you still can’t get that redheaded beauty out of your head- you can’t even why you try to busy yourself with literally anything else. So… you take fate into your hands. You know she works at the school down the street from your office, so you take it upon yourself to call in late to work, explaining that you have a few personal things to take care of as you pull into the Abbott Elementary school parking lot.

You see her pull in, and after a quick glance at your appearance in the rearview mirror, you deem yourself put together enough to face again. You slide out of your car and call her name.

She looks… shocked. Her jaw drops open as she watches you step out of your car.

“Y/N?” she calls out.

You jog up to her car. “Listen, I know I’m probably coming off as a stalker right now, but 

I just… I couldn’t shake you from my thoughts as we lost each other in the airport. I wanted to call or text, but I didn’t have your number. And then I remembered you work here, and I literally work right down the road, and my boss is probably going to kill me for being late on my first day back in two weeks, but-”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you either,” she cuts you off as she reaches for your hand.

You pull her into your arms gently before pressing your lips to hers. “Look, I’m… I don’t know what I’m doing here, but I knew I couldn’t let you go that easily, and I don’t want to be a jackass and use you as a rebound, but-”

“I’m here,” Melissa whispers to you as she pulls you back in for another kiss. “I’m here when you’re ready for whatever you think this might turn into. For now though, we can be friends… we can hang out like we did in Italy.”

“Yeah?”

The teacher smiles at you. “Of course. I actually have two tickets for tomorrow’s game if you wanted to come with me?”

“I thought you had tickets for the game while we were Italy?”

She shrugs. “I told you, I know a guy… I was able to contact him while we were there, and he just exchanged my tickets.”

You grin. “I would be delighted.”

Her smile matches yours. “Wonderful. If I could just get your number so we could arrange to meet tomorrow? And then I really do have to get into my classroom… prepping a science lesson.”

“Yeah, of course,” you fumble for your phone in your bag and hand it over. She texts herself with a smile.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow?” you ask hopefully.

She kisses your cheek. “For sure.”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

[mixvyu]

Parfum d’étoile - episode twenty-seven

scaramouche x reader smau

previous | masterlist | next

You could see Scaramouche from the window of his car, looking down at his phone.

He didn’t seem to notice you as you waved at him but it didn’t stop you from walking over and knocking on the window.

You wave again and put your hands together as a quiet apology before going to the other side of his black Mercedes to the passager seat.

You threw yourself onto the soft seat and left out a long sigh, finally getting to sit down and relax after minutes of running around your apartment to not be any later than you already were.

"Hey."

"Oh hi ! Sorry I’m late" you said, breathing heavily after each word

"It’s fine, it’s kind of on brand with you anyways."

The car fell into silence after his sentence

. After seconds that felt like hours of him not starting the engine you decided to take matters into your own hands and strike the conversation

"You have a nice car !"

"Yeah it was my mom’s. She gave it to me when i got into college."

"Oh that’s nice… So uh… Where are we going ?"

"I have absolutely no idea."

"What ?"

" I don’t know where to go."

"Oh… Wait, what??"

"We should probably eat first since it’s noon."

"Uh… sure of course" you answered, still stunned by the revelation that he did not have anything planned.

"Kazuha said something about going to the Aquarium but i don’t really want to spend the day looking at fishes."

"Yeah, I don’t think aquariums are for first dates"

‘First dates’ he thought, by that logic there would also be a second, a third or even maybe a fourth.

What you thought about was the thought the he asked his friends for advice and that you weren’t the only one self conscious about all of this.

"Let’s go to McDonalds." His sentence pulled you out of your thoughts.

"What ?"

"Let’s go to McDonalds." He repeated, he didn’t really know what he was saying at that point

"Huh ?"

"I said-"

"No no I-! I heard what you said it’s uh… Why ? I was thinking of a place more first date-ey to be honest."

"The study sessions."

" ? "

"Kazuha got to pick Japanese food, you picked Italian after that but I didn’t get to pick."

"Oh yeah, that’s true"

"You don’t want to ?"

"No it’s- it’s fine with me"

"We can get something through the drive through and drive around and listen to music and speak about everything and everyone, that could be fun"

Now that he said it like that, it did sound fun : simply fooling around with him with no goal in mind seemed like a first date you could remember

"Yeah, that could be fun"

-★-

"Give me one or your nuggets"

"Should’ve ordered some for yourself"

"I paid for this ! Atleast let me have one !"

"Look at the road, god ! Do you want us to die or something ?!"

"It’s fine I’m an excellent driver" he said, snatching a chicken nugget from between your lips right into his mouth before getting his eyes back on the road.

"You’re a dick, Kuni."

"Don’t go dirtying the car now i just washed it"

"Huh ? You washed it for me ?"

"No dumbass i washed it because Childe borrowed it and he apparently can’t clean after himself."

"Well the name checks out"

You could hear a slight chuckle from the man beside you and it made you feel proud.

This date wasn’t actually, going as badly as you thought it would, it felt nice and casual to just spend time with Scaramouche.

Alex G was playing on his car speaker and the grey sky outside made it feel weirdly soothing.

"Where do you want to go after this ?"

"Wherever i don’t really care."

"God you’re so annoying."

"How is it my fault that you invite me on a date but don’t have a plan in head?!"

"Let’s go to the mall I have something to buy."

"Ooh I saw nice pants last time! You’ll buy them for me right ?" You said jokingly expecting a ‘no way in hell’ from him

"Sure, i don’t really care"

"Huh ? I was joking you know…"

"I’m not, I have money to spend might as well spend it."

"Do you wanna be my sugar daddy ?"

"Aren’t I already ?"

He stopped the car in the mall’s parking lot without you even noticing you were even approaching the mall already.

He stepped out of the car and closed his side before going to the other side and opening up the door for you.

"Ma’am."

"Woah, so gentlemanly."

"I know right."

Now that you were both out of the car you could finally examine what he wore.

It was your first time seeing him wear a button down and it didn’t look so bad, the black tie that he wore with it was slightly loosen to give more style probably. The color of his tie matched his pants, black baggy jeans with holes on each knees and he added a dark jacket to protect himself against the chilly air from outside.

It seemed like whatever he was wearing was fitting of him and it pissed you off.

"Quit staring."

"It’s weird seeing you with a button down"

"You saw me with one when i went to eat with my mom dumbass"

"Did I ? I don’t remember that."

You don’t know if he did it subconsciously or on purpose but scaramouche intertwined your fingers like it was nothing, hand and hand and dragging you into the shopping mall.

You didn’t say anything about it, scared that if you did speak up he would pull away. You just wanted to enjoy the warmth of his hand for a few moments longer.

-★-

Your hands came apart when you entered his car for the second time. Scaramouche pulled away so easily you couldn’t help but let out a disappointed sigh and hoped he didn’t notice (he did)

"So… what else should we do ?"

"We could drink that wine of yours"

You pointed to the plastic bag in which a bottle of french red wine he just bought that was sitting next to the bag filled with clothes that he insisted on buying you

"Uh you’re nice and all but this is a 1973 grand cru."

"Ok ? And ?"

"This bottle was 1.5k i’m not opening it for you."

"Come on, it would be fun !"

" I won’t be able to drive home, you know that right ?"

"We can uber home and you’ll get your car tomorrow !"

"You’re so fucking annoying" Scaramouche said as he started the car

"Where are we going"

"A cliff."

"What for ?"

"So i can kill us both." He sighed in annoyance, not satisfied with the decision he just made "To drink the wine dipshit, what else ?"

A satisfied smile crept on your face as you looked ahead of you, the sky was clearer now and it was a beautiful shade of blue.

You checked the time, wondering how long you’ve been on this date already.

You ignored the countless notifications from your friend group, not wanting to text friends while being with Scaramouche.

Your phone read ‘3:49’

Your shopping session was obviously way longer than expected and you kind of felt bad to use his money but also very satisfied with the purchases he made. You knew that whenever you’d tell Mona she won’t let it go ever.

Scaramouche had been weirdly sweet during the day, you wondered if he’d be like that if you ever dated him then started to hate yourself when you realised what you were thinking about.

Still dating Scaramouche doesn’t seem that bad ; he was rich, good looking, fun to be around, rich, dressed well, rich, had really good grades, was sweet (at time) and was filthy rich.

Settling with a guy like him didn’t seem like such a bad idea and you wanted so hard to hate the thought of it but you couldn’t.

"What is it ?" Scaramouche had noticed you staring

"I just thought that we’ve been driving for a while" you lied "where is that fucking cliff of yours ?"

"Out of town."

"What ? How are we gonna go back ?"

"I’ll drive of course"

"Drunk driving really isn’t safe you know ?"

"I’m not going to have more than one drink i’m not an alcoholic" like Kazuha, he wanted to add but he didn’t want to speak of him while on a date with you "I refuse to leave a fucking Mercedes out there in the wild, i’m gonna bring this baby back to the dorm parking lot before i go to bed i swear"

"Ooh so you’re that kind of car lover."

"What is that supposed to mean ?"

"Nothing in particular."

-★-

You checked your phone once again

6:01

Scaramouche drove for more than two hours which was surprising to you.

Time flew by fast with countless conversations and improvised karaoke.

You were still grinning ear to ear getting out of his car and finally being able to stretch properly.

You heard the car trunk close violently and turned around to see Scaramouche holding two wine glasses and a bottle of wine that seemed different than the one you pointed to earlier

"So you basically got me the cheap version ?"

"Yup!" He said not an ounce of shame in his voice "This is still 200 bucks i’m sure you’ll live"

"What if I don’t ?"

He ignored you and simply sat on the hood of his car.

It felt wrong to sit on the hood of a car that was worth more than all of your belongings put together but if he did it you might as well.

You happily took the glass he was offering you from his hands before he pour down some of the liquid from the wine bottle he just opened

"You’re not going to poison me, are you ?"

"I might" he replied pouring himself a glass

"Cheers" you said, both at the same time.

Scaramouche took a small sip while you downed your whole glass in a matter of seconds

"Not even appreciating the taste, jesus"

Silence fell onto the both of you, a comfortable one.

You let your head fall onto his shoulder, closing your eyes, almost drifting off the sleep before adding quietly

"I really wanted you to like me, Kuni"

He didn’t speak but you knew he heard you.

Your eyes opened once again when you felt his head on top of yours, both of your bodies being warmed up by the other’s

You stayed like that for hours that felt like minutes. Staring at the sun hiding from your view for the day, the orange aspect of the sky adding a little something to the already perfect evening.

Your heart was beating fast and you hoped that Scaramouche’s was too.

After countless of small meaningless conversations, it was sadly time to go home

-★-

You yawned

"I’m so tired"

"We’re almost there, don’t worry."

10:36

You could see the familiar lights and building of your town and it felt bittersweet.

You didn’t really want the day to end yet.

Even though you barely did anything, you felt awfully close to him and you liked that feeling.

The car stopped and you knew that it meant you arrived at the front of your apartment but you still checked outside hoping that maybe you were wrong.

You weren’t.

You could see the windows of your living room from there and it felt like they were mocking you.

You stepped out of the car, legs almost giving out because of how long you spent sitting.

Scaramouche was still in the car, hands on the steering wheel and he looked like he was more than read to leave.

The window from the driver seat was opened so you leaned in to be heard better

"Today was fun, we should do that again"

"Yeah."

"Well then, goodnight."

"What ? You aren’t claiming the hundreds of dollars worth of clothes in my backseat ?"

The grin on his face made you want to slap him but you simply sighed.

He got out of the car and gave you your(his) purchases

"You’re being awfully gentlemanly tonight"

"I’m always like that"

You faked a cough

"Well-"

His lips suddenly crashed on yours, unexpectedly and they tasted like cherry.

His sudden kiss made you gasp and he used the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth

You closed your eyes letting him explore your mouth all he wanted, letting a few moans and whimpers here and there.

Before you even had the chance to grab him he cruelly pulled away panting slightly before leaving a soft peck on your now swollen lips.

Your face was burning up and it was hard to catch your breath but you still managed to whisper

"What… What was that…?"

"The kiss i owed you. It’s a little late though so I apologise.

He planted another kiss on your lips and barely pulled away before whispering

"Have a good night, Y/N"

And with that, he turned around, got into his car and drove away. Leaving you frozen and speechless on your own doorstep.

Extras!

My friend said "we better kiss or i’ll throw hands" and i had to act like i wasn’t sure it was so hard i wanted to say it so bad

We did kiss i hope you guys are finally happy 😞

Uh next chapter not so happy it’s not angst but it’s frustrating

I’m writing those notes on the 17th i haven’t even finished chapter 26

Oh em gee Bojack Horseman reference

Why are kissing scenes so embarrassing to write omg

No proofreading we die like men

Went to sleep at 8am just for you guys ughh i have to be awake in 4hrs why do i do this to myself

★彡Taglist ! [open]

@gekkow-deactivated20230703 @aemiko @veekoko @kichiyoshi @scaramouchelover4ever @sukunasrealgf @lxkeeeee @kunisblog @yukiipc @brfrtbrt @simpforsubmissivemen @featuredtofu @fanfictionenthusiast @beriiov @lyzisbitchingagain @bluebelony @ryomiye @reinoodle @bananasquash @mikukksks @sakiimeo @kitanablades @pennyluvr @sakurapeach @crystalsguitar @feiherp @deluluangel @gracefulace200 @apinu @elernity @st4romii @ahseya @yelleloww @prettiestgirlxoxo @yoichiislovie @silly-ez @helix-frscr @morima2137 @boxedbest @serossidechick @yuraasia @xirthia @anastaxiah @angeilix @gyuhairclips @mikalei @yuuichilover @kacelah @sketcheeee @beebotea @keqing15 @yourmotherslover420 @m00mie-m00 @kyon-cherri @jkcryzzlis @im-inlovewithy0u @milceslv @certaindreampost @meowmeowmau @nnasv @yuminako @ada-ydreamer @tootsietootsue

[medievalandfantasymelee]

COME ONE, COME ALL to the MOSTE ILLUSTRIOUS TOURNAMENT of the FINEST, the MOSTE PUISSANT and HOTTEST MEN MEDIEVAL MEDIA HAS TO ITS CREDIT.

Our Noble and Worthy contenders have come from 128 Properties throughout the land and stand numbered at 296, out of some 400 submissions.

A complete list of our Noble and Worthy Contenders may be found here.

A summary of The Qualifying Round Matchups may be found here

THE TOURNEY IS UNDERWAY!!!!

Our contest began with a Qualifying Round, which consisted of 148 matchups. The Qualifying Round did not follow any kind of bracket or draw, however beginning with Round 1, every subsequent round will.

The Second Round of Competition has commenced!

This round shall last five days and consist of seven Tilts (polls) per day of competition posted at ten minute intervals beginning at 4:00 PM by the reckoning of Eastern Standard Time.

A complete list of Matchups in this round may be found here, updating daily.

A masterpost with links to all rounds of the competition (current and previous) may be found HERE.

We have also completed voting for the second round of the Queen of Love and Beauty Mini Tournament. The Queen of Love and Beauty holds the honour of presenting unto the winner of the Tournament his Champion's coronet. It is a mini-bracket capped at 72 contenders. Polls for the Queen of Love and Beauty will be posted prior to the commencement of each round of the Tournament proper until a Queen is chosen.

Oft Asked Questions

“Who is this ‘Master of Revels’?”: T’would be I, your servant. Humble host and facilitator of this fair contest.

“Isn’t this a medieval tournament? Why are there Tudors/Borgias here?”: The Medieval Period is generally agreed by historians to span the years AD. 500 to AD 1500. However, the Renaissance period is a little fuzzier. The Renaissance was not only a period of history, but a cultural movement that kicked in earlier in some places than in others. One looks at Cesare Borgia and can immediately identify him as belonging to the Italian Renaissance. However, you look at the span of his life and it does fall within the late 1400’s—so still what is commonly considered the Medieval period. The Renaissance was a period of transition, so clean cutoffs aren’t always easy to reconcile. Vestiges of Medieval sentiment persisted in England up to the reign of Henry VIII, and it’s for this reason I chose to stretch the definition of “Medieval” for the purposes of the tournament to include the period of Henry VIII’s reign (because English history is what I’m most familiar with.)

“Wait! My Medieval Hot Man isn’t here! Can I still submit him?”: First we advise you to check to make sure that your man isn’t here. It's linked above too, but here is a complete list of our 296 contenders. If he’s not there, then sadly he was not submitted and, as the Tourney is underway, he cannot be submitted now.

“Why is Blank here, he’s not medieval!/Why isn’t Blank here he is medieval!”: The definition of a “Medieval Man” for the purposes of our tournament is “Any male character in a piece of live action visual media in which the Primary Action takes place between the years of AD 500 and AD 1550 (or a Fantasy property that emulates that period).” We define Primary Action as “at least one half-hour of a film, or three episodes (or the equivalent time) of a TV series. (Unless it is an adventure-of-the-week style show in which one episode’s story is set in the medieval period, as in the case of Doctor Who: “The Robot of Sherwood”).

“I have propaganda I would like to submit – how should I do that?”: If you are submitting text propaganda or pictures, send us an Ask. If you have a YouTube video link, you can send that in Ask form also and we will embed the video in the answer. If you have gifsets, meta or other posts here on Tumblr that you think are good propaganda, tag us (@medievalandfantasymelee) and we will reblog it. If you send us links to the post in an ask, we will reblog the post you’ve linked and tag you (unless submitted anonymously), but the ask will be deleted, largely to keep the feed streamlined.

“What makes for good text propaganda?”: Simply tell us why you think your character is hot. You may praise his physical attributes, his chivalry (or villainy), personal qualities such as valour or intellect – anything that you feel exemplifies his hotness. Please do not submit fanfiction as text propaganda.

An addendum to the above: Please remember that we are voting for the characters not the actors, so propaganda about personality and personal qualities should be centred on the character, not on the actor (but you can praise the actor’s physical hotness in the role all you like). Accolades won by the actor for the role are welcome. Anecdotes about the actor’s portrayal are also welcome, but anecdotes about the actors’ lives that do not relate to their portrayal of the characters or work on the properties are not admissible propaganda. 

“What makes for good visual propaganda?”: Any picture/gif/video of the character that you think he looks especially hot in is good visual propaganda. Please do not copy and paste gifs off of tumblr unless you have the express permission of the original poster to do so. If there’s a gif or gifset here on tumblr that you want to send as propaganda, tag us in it (@medievalandfantasymelee) and we will reblog it. Please do not submit fan-art as propaganda (official paintings such as those done for vintage movie posters are acceptable, though).

“Can I submit counter-propaganda?”: We will not accept any propaganda that openly trashes a contestant or the actor that plays him. However, we do not discourage Comparative Propaganda – that is to say, propaganda weighing the qualities of a contender and his opponent against each other in a respectful manner.

“Why is HE here, he’s committed atrocities?!”: We are not here to judge the morality of a character, only his hotness. Whatever atrocities (and we mean “whatever” – side-glance at Ramsay Bolton) the character has committed do not prevent him from competing in the Tournament. If his crimes impact his hotness to you, then feel free to vote for his opponent (and if his opponent has committed atrocities as well, then, I guess feel free to skip that poll entirely.) If you think a contestant has committed atrocities but aren't absolutely certain, please don't talk about it in reblogs or in the comments on a poll, lest a hazy memory unfairly sway the voting public. (But atrocities you know for certain he's committed may be discussed freely - that's just an aspect of the character.)

“What is the Near Misses Pile/Tourney?”: The Near Misses Pile is what I’ve christened a small heap of characters who were submitted but who failed to qualify. The Near Misses Tourney was a mini-bracket held in the week leading up to the main tournament in which all 21 non-qualifiers were pitted against each other to determine who was the hottest reject. Kala Bhairava [Ram Charan] from Magadheera (2009) won that worthless honor.

“I have Hot Romans and Musketeers I’d like to see compete!”: Hold that thought. After the Hot Medieval and Fantasy Men Melee concludes, a new tournament will be held for another time period. Either we will host a Hot Men of Antiquity Tournament (which will accept male characters from any movie or TV show property set before AD 500), or a Hot Renaissance Men Tournament (which will accept men from any property set between AD 1480 and AD 1640. Which will be held first will be determined by popular vote. (In the meantime all ye Musketeer enthusiasts can get your fix over at @hotmusketeerspoll )

"Will there be a Hot Medieval Ladies Tournament?": It's unlikely in the foreseeable future, because we already have two full Men's tournaments planned following the conclusion of the Medieval Men Melee. (See above)

“My question isn’t here/I’m confused about something.”: Send me an ask!

All propaganda is submitted by the voters and does not necessarily reflect the opinions of The Master of Revels or The Hot Medieval & Fantasy Men Melee

ADDITIONAL NOTE: I do not choose the pictures featured in the propaganda sections, and I only use pictures submitted by voters. If you think that a contender you support is poorly represented, it is not my fault and it is up to you to change that. It is not my job to choose propaganda of any kind for the Contenders and I only work with what I have been given.

[somber-sapphic]

Hey! I was wondering if you would be down to do the sicktember (I already know my autocorrect is going to hate this 😂) but day 27 I think. The one with Marina x reader and Carina is sick. If not I totally understand

Taking Care of Her

〖Summary: Carina is sick and not doing a great job at being a patient.〗

〖Word Count: 1.1k〗

〖Pairing: Marina x Reader, Sick Carina〗

〖Notes: I absolutely can! Sorry it took me so long to respond to this one, I wanted to make sure I could have the req with the post. If anyone else has any sicktember prompts they want finished I'll link the post here and you can let me know :)) Apologies for the title, it's late and I cannot think of anything better.〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Carina, there’s no way you’re healthy enough to be here. Let me take you home, please.” You begged, hugging a clipboard to your chest as you watched your very sick girlfriend move about the on-call room. It was a slow day in the ER which left you time to chase her around instead of taking blood and treating patients. It also helped that April wanted Carina to go home as badly as you did. 

She had helped run clinic day with Maya and the rest of the crew of 19 a few days ago and had encountered the nasty flu that was going around. She’d actually been forced to deny one man a flu shot and sent him to the hospital to be evaluated by one of the ER docs. That night, she and Maya came home exhausted, making you regret not taking your day off to help them.

To make it up to them, you’d made them both a fancy bath with salts, candles, and scented candles. While they were relaxing in the bath you attempted to cook and when that failed you put in an order for the Italian place down the street. They had been incredibly thankful but Carina had practically fallen asleep in her plate of pasta, leading to an early night. 

The doctor had the next day off so you and Maya had gotten ready quietly around her and she was still asleep by the time the two of you got back that night. That was the first sign. 

There was evidence that she had gotten up, at least to eat lunch, but the fact that she would even consider sleeping the whole day worried you and your other girlfriend. The two of you let her sleep anyway, both of you hoping silently that she could fight off whatever was trying to take hold with a little extra rest. 

Of course, it didn’t. So here you were, trying to convince Carina that it was in her best interest to let you take her home instead of treating patients. There you were, blocking the exit to the on-call room prepared to shove Carina into a bed if that’s what it took. She had driven you there (a bad idea in hindsight) and you weren't sure how long it would take for Maya to get there to pick you up. 

“Y/n, I have mothers waiting for me preparing to push tiny humans out of their bodies. What they are preparing to go to is far worse than this little cold.” She insisted, bringing it back to the mothers yet again. Throughout the whole argument, she had stood firm that she needed to be fine because her patients were not. 

“Come on Car, you have to know that's a stupid point. What if you get them sick? What if you get the babies sick? Masks are great but they aren’t foolproof, what would happen then?” You challenged, raising an eyebrow at her. The woman’s face went a shade paler, something you didn't realize was possible, and she faltered slightly. 

“But, it's my job. Another doctor won't know them like I do, they won’t be able to…” She trailed off and raised a hand to her forehead, swaying suddenly. You rushed forward and wrapped an arm around her waist, quickly taking almost her complete weight as you sat her down on the bottom bunk of a bed. 

“Sweetheart, you’re sick. Let me take you home. Maya has the day off, we can watch movies and I’ll make you soup and we can get you feeling better. Please. You’re a biohazard.” You knew that last part would make her rethink her position which was exactly why you’d thrown it in. 

Carina dropped her head on your shoulder for a moment giving into the dizziness that you were sure she was feeling. 

“Please. Flu season has been bad, this will only get worse before it gets better.” As a nurse, you had been treating case after case of the flu several of them with severe enough symptoms that they needed to be admitted. You were used to rates going up during the winter but it was worse this year. 

The two of you sat in silence for a few more minutes, you rubbing Carina’s back as she carefully weighed her options. 

“Fine.” She finally said, lifting her head to look at you with glassy brown eyes. “I don't want to get the mothers sick.” You smiled, perfectly happy with that answer. You didn't care why she went home as long as she did. 

“Thank you.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You stepped through the door to your home and were immediately greeted by a very worried-looking EMT. 

“Hey baby, come here.” Maya breathed, reaching out her arms for the shivering brunette bundled up in yours. She broke away from you and drifted toward the firefighter, tears already beginning to form in her eyes. You sighed quietly and pinched the bridge of your nose, wishing that you knew of a way to keep her from crying. She always got weepy when she had a fever and you hated that there was so little that you could do to help. 

“I made a little blanket fort on the couch or we can go lay down in bed, what do you think?” The blonde offered, stepping immediately into the role of caretaker. She was so good at that, even you, a nurse, had trouble with it when it came to the people you loved. For some reason taking care of strangers always came easier. 

“Bed.”

It took the two of you ten minutes to get her settled, she had refused the first three sets of PJs that were offered and wouldn’t lay down until Maya did. Once the blonde was in bed it seemed to signal to Carina that she was allowed to rest and quickly cuddled up against the firefighter. 

You flipped on the TV and handed the remote to your healthy girlfriend so that you could change out of your scrubs and into sweatpants and an oversized band t-shirt. The shirt belonged to Maya, but the two of you frequently swapped clothes, so she didn’t mind. 

“Do you need anything Car? Some tea? A snack? Anything?” You offered, expecting the answer to be no. She shook her head, just as you thought she would, and reached over the EMT to grab the hem of your shirt. 

“Will you lay down with us? Just for a little while?” She croaked, sniffling softly. Her nose was running a little but she didn't seem to notice or care. You smiled and walked around to the other side of the bed so that she could be in the middle. 

Taking care of the doctor would never be an easy feat but you and Maya were more than willing to accept the challenge. Though you both were glad that she had such a strong immune system. That certainly helped. 

〖Join My Taglist!〗@lovelyy-moonlight, @bloomingflowersthings, @lots-of-pockets, @asiangmrchk13, @scrambled-brain-eggs, @juststuckhereforever, @chairhere, @goldenempyrean, @villaneve4life

[whereismyhat5678]

OKAY WAIT GUYS-

Have I EVER drawn Peppino from the soundtrack album cover? NO- Today I change that 😌 (With Gustavo too)

Also headcannons for drunk Peppino and Gustavo: (if I already said these in old posts sorry- 😅)

I STILL stand the point of Peppino either being an angry drunk and funny drunk. He’ll punch you in the face if you look at him the wrong way BUT will make you die laughing at how goofy he is-

Gustavo is more-a-less a happy drunk. He laughs at practically anything and he’s just sunshine. He’s a sweetheart what can I tell ya’-

When Peppino drinks PEPPINO DRINKS like the mf goes ALL OUT when he wants to get drunk- EVEN when he says he’ll “Get ONE drink” he has AT LEAST 10 bottles of whatever alcohol they have- HE GOES HARD

OOOO I ALSO WANNA ADD the more he drinks the more noticeable his accent is, like THE HARDEST ITALIAN ACCENT shows when he’s on his 8th bottle IT’S INSANE-

For Gustavo I don’t really think he’s a hard drinker, he tries to stay as sober as possible so at least they can go back home normally without migraines in the morning- But sometimes he does get a bit carried away-

They dance like there’s no tomorrow on the dance floor- WHEN IT’S JUST THE TWO OF THEM FUCK YEAH THEY’RE GONNA HAVE A GOOD TIME‼️ They WILL shred imaginary guitars together they WILL sing (very horrible) karaoke and they WILL have a good time together because they JUST DO. You CAN’T TELL ME they aren’t magnets to each other THEY’RE INSEPARABLE WHEN DRUNK-

And finally when they need to get back home, BEFORE THE TOWER they would call a Taxi, Peppino is actually quite responsible and would always tell Gus if he was drunk as hell and he got drunk too to just get them both a taxi for safety. And AFTER THE TOWER Brick would usually be there for them (Brick is a real one) or Stick would offer them a ride home (which rarely happens but it’s an option-)

[satorugojjo]

The more I read the more I don’t understand the absolutely homophobic coded hate for The Sun and the Star. Nico literally shares a homophobic experience he experienced in the 40s that shaped the way he viewed himself, reflects on it, and then comes to the conclusion that’s what made him react to Cupid so badly, and THIS is something to hate??? Nico, growing, learning to share, learning to not impose isolation on himself, learning to feel his emotions and let them out, to be there for people, to miss Percy and Hazel and Jason, actually developing, and people are like “ugh so boring and unrealistic, they ruined my fav character”

Well, sorry he’s not the miserable little edgelord you all desperately want him to be. Sorry that Will actually has some very understandable flaws, sorry that Percabeth aren’t perfect, sorry that you’d read book about the experience of coming out for an Italian raised boy from the 1930s and think it’s boring, sorry that you’d read about the trauma of his Tartarus experience from HoH and go “OVERDONE”!!! This book does have flaws but it is not Nico and Will.

Every single interaction feels meaningful, the focus on emotion, growth, light, happiness, connection, love, friendship, and more is what is quintessential PJO to me. It’s not full of adventure after adventure and that’s perfectly fine to me. They’re navigating an emotional minefield. How the fuck can this fandom sit here and complain about the lack of emotional depth in Blood of Olympus and then when they do get it they’re like, “oh no no no this is the WRONG kind, I want him to stay miserable, I actually don’t want to read about his sorrow from his POV, I don’t want Nico to be MATURING” GROW UP?

Nothing about Solangelo so far feels OOC to me, and every time they do it’s actually even pointed out to us that it IS ooc, and we get to see how they feel about it. This is exactly what I expect from canonical middle school sunshine/darkness tropes.

Also, this is VERY IMPORTANT so pay fucking attention. THIS. IS. NOT. A. MAIN. PLOT. BOOK. IT DOESNT HAVE TO BE BREAKNECK PACING. If this was an anime, this would be a sweet little OVA arc. This is a side story, just the same way the Percy/Thalia/Nico story was. It’s a companion book about two side characters. Why are your expectations as high as a main series book? It’s a NICO AND WILL book, it’s not anything more or less. Another thing to remember? Canonically this is meant to be the year 2011. The RRverse is very anachronistic where current year elements feature in a timeline where it shouldn’t, but EVEN SO, it still feels at best 2015. More importantly? It’s only been a year since Cupid. A singular YEAR. For reference the pandemic started 3 whole years ago.

I can’t stand fans sometimes, you’ll jump on any bandwagon of hate without exercising a single shred of critical thinking or nuance, and then conveniently forget a whole bunch of things that are GOOD for the minor flaws this book has. This isn’t a 10/10 book, it’s probably a solid 7.5!!! Stop treating it as if it’s 3/10. And I stand by what I said before. We need more middle grade LGBT lit! Is this the BEST out there? No. Is this however bad? No. And before you guys come for me without having a molecule of reading comprehension, it’s OKAY to not like this book. It’s not okay however to make sweeping statements of hate as if everyone who enjoys this book is a blithering idiot.

[sovksluv]

GTYU2K - static chapter 1

✰ . pairing - ex!Luke Castellan x italian!fem!singer!reader smau

✰ . summary - dating an ex-frat boy was definitely not the best idea, but now that you’re only a girl he used to know, you’re making tons of money off him and his lying, cheating ass, iykwim 😉

✰ . includes - badassness, italian singer but no specified race, cussing probably, sad luke because he regrets what he did

✰ . series taglist - @sluttysammyy

✰ . pjo taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303 @st4rzl7

✰ . now playing - GTYU2K by Alexis Munroe

✰ . a/n - im not really sure how artists like talk about their new albums and stuff so taylor swift is my inspo!! also PLEASE if you haven’t, GO LISTEN TO Alexis Munroe (aka princessbri) ALSO!!! pictures do NOT depict the reader!!

✰ . series masterlist

y/ny/ln u make me sick

view all comments

larueclarisse FUUUUCK HIM !!! U DONT NEED HIM 🫶🏽❤️‍🔥

ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln ridding myself of allllll the bullshit

ׂ╰┈➤ user09 ATE

missbeauregard soooo excited !!! and so proud of you lovie 💕💕

ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln ilyyyy mwah mwah 💋💋

seaweedbrainbaddie um where’s my photo creds 🤨🤨🤨🤞🤞

ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln no

ׂ╰┈➤ seaweedbrainbaddie yes

ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln no

ׂ╰┈➤ seaweedbrainbaddie YES

ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln FINE. 📸 creds to @seaweedbrainbaddie (stupid name btw)

ׂ╰┈➤ seaweedbrainbaddie thank you and FUCK YOU

ׂ╰┈➤ annab3th LANGUAGE.

view more

pipesqueak drop the album alreadyyy!! i’m dying waiting 😫

ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln coming soon i promise ml 💋

ׂ╰┈➤ pipesqueak not soon enough :(

iamchris_h can’t let bro know i fw this 😣

ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse don’t even know why ur friends w such a loser

ׂ╰┈➤ iamchris_h we all make mistakes guys

ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse his dad definitely did 🥱

ׂ╰┈➤ missbeauregard CLARISSE.

hater77 she’s just obsessed with her ex like if it’s so bad why make a whole album about him LMFAO

ׂ╰┈➤ user54 ur just mad she’s making money and u aren’t 🤣

larueclarisse GIRLS NIGHT ‼️🥂❤️‍🔥 tagged: @y/ny/ln @missbeauregard @pipesqueak

view all comments

pipesqueak i had so much fun !!! 💕💕

ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse WE ALL NEED TO GO OUT TOGETHER AGAIN?!?&:8

ׂ╰┈➤ pipesqueak YES !

y/ny/ln holy shit i’m so hung over but at least i look good 🤷‍♀️

ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse only Y/n Y/ln can get full on shitfaced and still look good 😫❤️‍🔥

seaweedbrainbaddie omg guys why wasn’t i invited :(((( 💔😖

ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln you’re a boy. it was girls night.

ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse you’re like 8??

ׂ╰┈➤ missbeauregard you would probably just complain the whole time

ׂ╰┈➤ pipesqueak you can’t even drink

ׂ╰┈➤ annab3th you’re annoying.

ׂ╰┈➤ seaweedbrainbaddie babe you weren’t even there ??

view more

itslukecastellan she looks so pretty

ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse boy gtfo

ׂ╰┈➤ iamchris_h Luke i can’t even defend you anymore 🤦🏽

y/ny/ln just posted a new story

view reply from larueclarisse:

larueclarisse YESSSSS IM SO EXCITED 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

y/ny/ln my biggest supporter 💕

view reply from missbeauregard:

missbeauregard DISSIN HIM AND MAKING MONEY!!! IM SO PROUD OF YOUUUU

y/ny/ln thank you babyyyyyy <3333

view reply from cast311anbackup:

cast311anbackup i miss you

y/ny/ln leave me aloneeeee how many mf times do i have to block you.

y/ny/ln i’m not the girl that u used 2 know🤷‍♀️

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© sovksluv 2024, please do not repost or translate my work!

[featheryminx]

hate post under the cut! this is so petty and purely a form of stress relief bc it’s finals season and i need some unserious venting. do not engage if ur a fan of buckt*mmy :) thanks

truly i have no words for this one. Girl what do you mean That Ship brought you so much joy you started watching 911 for them, and then stopped when they broke up? this isn’t like that egregious by their standards it just. it just boggles the brain.

why the fuck would chris meddle in this? these are grown ass men and he is a teenager who has a whole world of other problems, be serious. I also love how Those Shippers are so adamant that buck isn’t like that important or intertwined with Chris, up until they can use Chris as a plot point for their (bad) ship

okay so first of all—the 118 were never his friends. Like we gotta get that straight. He (can’t even say That Man bc that’s too ace attorney coded LOL) literally made chim & hens professional lives like, miserable? He was an active proponent of discomfort and harm and you think that the 118 is supposed to be on his side ever? no.

also like between Buck and Him, the 118 would never ever choose him. Like what the fuck does OP mean “the breakup has proven they aren’t his friends” as if there was something to disprove? There was no evidence suggesting that the 118 were his friends for that guy to even feel betrayed by. They just did not give a fuck about him.

you’re just making him italian to give him a cute plot point italian grandma? Talk about making him more and more eddie coded… like we already have Abuela we don’t need another grandma who speaks a diff language and has cute little names for buck. like this is literally just ripping off of eddies character bc you have nothing better to give this cardboard man who is Eddie Lite in every other way as well. (sorry to OP not a dig on your actual writing, it’s just the eddie-ification of your blorbo that bothers me)

WHAT IS YOU BITCHES OBSESSION WITH SAL? IF IM REMEMBERING CORRECTLY SAL WAS ALSO A WEIRD RACIST FREAK! are you weird and racist? is that why you’re obsessed with weird racists? grow up.

GET BUCKS NAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH how dare you suggest that a song could apply to buck & temu and also sal/temu? gross. ALSO see above for my criticism of sal & temu obsessed weirdos.

so you think a racist, disrespectful clown is easier to stomach than someone having safe, sane, consensual sex? Like let me remind you—Temu was ridiculously paternalistic towards Buck all the time, and never respected him (first date, the way he talked about him to hen and karen) and is also canonically racist and misogynistic and also apparently has no remorse over the way he treated his beard or no respect for her as a human… and you think THAT is easier to stomach than a guy having casual sex? shows where your priorities lie.

GET MY GIRLS OUT OF YOUR MOUTH. he was so dismissive of their concerns in that deleted scene and u want more of those interactions? no baby. absolutely not.

el em ef ay oh. that’s all.

why the FUCK would he be involved, bffr. like practically, we know this is an athena plot. and also. DING DONG THE WITCH IS FUCKING DEAD and he’s not coming back. cope. seethe.

ugh i can’t add more images? okay i’ll just transcribe the post it’s short. basically it’s a snippet of a scene where Temu says “I’ve got your back”, because of course they have nothing better to do than steal from the buddie dynamic. like. that’s just embarassing.

[grif-hawaiian-rolls]

Random Chorus headcanons i wanna write out so i dont forget em, part 1:

-The average height of chorusans is on the shorter side of human average height- you have more people who are under 5’8 than over, and very few people who are 6ft or more

- the height skew is partially because of the gravity on chorus being slightly different from earth, not really enough to be Noticed especially in an age where artificial gravity and space travel are common but Enough to cause a slight leaning in the graphs of averages (chorusans also tend to be stronger than your average human from earth because of this too! Little wins)

-its also due to the food and nutrients available to the isolated colony at war with itself like thats a given. The people of chorus aren’t malnourished, mind, but the exact ratios of certain vitamins and proteins and shit weren’t in their “ideals” the way they would be for a more regulated inner colony or a even an outer colony with more consistent imports

-Andersmith is an outlier at a solid 6ft tall, and he knows this, and its part of why he works so hard to be Eloquent and Well Spoken, bc its hard for people to dismiss you as the dumb muscle when you talk like you have three degrees in literature (his in-progress history degree that got interrupted and put on hold when he joined the New Republic is Not related to this, he’s just Like That)

-The age range in the Federal Army of Chorus is a good 5-6 years older than the range in the New Republic— shocker, the rebels are the teenagers and young adults fed up with the existing system and challenging it while even the more sympathetic feds are older and working within the system to the best they can

-again, outliers are a thing but broad strokes, broad strokes

-the Federal Army has a ridiculous categorizing system and requisition forms for everything. Yes those two fed in s13 were being assholes to Kimball about it to bc they didnt have any respect for her, but it is a genuine thing (theres normally just the understanding of doing the paperwork later when a commanding officer snaps at you. They weren’t treating her like a commanding officer) Simmons would have drooled if he had seen it I think. It’s color coordinated!

-Lopez was the only one of the reds and blues who actually learned this system. Donut, Sarge and Wash all kinda half assed it and got either Lopez or one of the Feds they worked with to do the actual paperwork for stuff…. which is to say, Anton and Lopez did the paperwork, and Neko sat with them and translated Lopez’s spanish into english when he felt like it (the armory got really good at figuring out what the spanish words for certain weapons and munition were because Neko is half assed as a translator at best)

-theres actually a decent number of non-native english speakers on Chorus! The number of them that have spanish as their first language is… laughably small. Lopez cannot catch a break, sorry buddy

-French is one of the more common native languages, along side English! Followed by Italian and then Portuguese and Mandarin Chinese (theyre tied)

-Chorus has an insane pizza scene post civil war. Second only to the pastry culture. Grif would singlehandedly fund them both if he could. He certainly tries

-MRE and field rations like jerky are still pretty stable foods regardless of culinary exploits, because it’s both easy and familiar. Its gonna take a while for Chorus to get back on its feet in terms of self sufficient farming again, but honestly having access to the alien temples now really really helps

-Chorus adopts a bit more Sangheili/Forerunner culture than most human colonies because of said temples, and bc Santa is straight up helping them rebuild their government with President Kimball— plus as they are technically neutral, not part of the UNSC/UEC/whatever the fuck its called, they have a bit more freedom in how they deal with aliens diplomatically and politically (Tucker hates his job as a human-sangheili diplomat so much. He’s supposed to be retired damn it) (the alternative is leaving it to Santa alone though, so Tucker does it and just whines about it in true Tucker fashion)

-I’m a firm believer in Chorus having WACK wildlife, but also i think its funniest if its also like, a lot closer to earth than you’d expect??? Theres still like spider wasps that both bite and sting with a venom that paralyzes your lungs and you slowly suffocate to death— but their natural predator is just… a normal fucking bird. It looks like a big ass pigeon with gills, so the lung paralyzer doesn’t work on it or some shit idk

-SANTA’S TEMPLES ARENT THE ONLY ONES - look. Look. Hear me out. Santa’s true warrior temple system isnt alone, it just survived the best. Thats why it has such a weird range from like the PURGE to just Long Distance Call to Everyone to Interior Decorating. There were other temples that required a different “test” like the Gateway to gain access to them. The Great Key is still the skeleton key to all of them but not all of them demand a True Warrior of Strength and Clarity. Most of them are hella busted tho; and didn’t survive the tests of time but that just means theyre more prone to Shenanigans if you do find and trigger them

-Santa is hella integrated into a lot of Chorus’ tech. It wasn’t super intentional, honestly, but a lot of what they’re working with otherwise is outdated, gerry-rigged and field stripped to hell and back. Santa’s set up get referenced because it is the best maintained form of accessible (when he’s feeling generous enough to share blueprints and not annoyed with being roped into things that are Not His Job) tech to build off of as theyre repairing and updating infrastructure, and that overlap in how it works means he can really easily access a lot of stuff! Which would be concerning! If he cared. But he doesn’t so, no one has bothered to figure out a work around

-there’s also a lot of coding and programs that read and sound like Epsilon’s work because… a lot of them are? Theyre based on shit he left behind, both intentionally and on accident (look he meant to delete that one code but he just didn’t get around to it okay? He has other shit going on) and again even the ones that aren’t Epsilon’s doing, theyre built by chorusans to communicate with his and are often based off of his as a reference for how to make it work, so he’s part of Chorus now too in a way that’s really bitter sweet! He left behind more of a legacy than he ever realized

[moonshynecybin]

Wait wait wait WAITTT

Now that Pecco is clearing all the air, sweeping the porch, sprinkling perfume to welcome marc in the factory Ducati. If it is announced before his wedding, does Marc get an invite (actually let's assume he's getting it). And Marc will go. Obviously. Dressed like it's the met gala the theme being omegas in heat and Marc is the only one who can save it. Marc at Vale's eldest daughters wedding scenarios please. Great if Marc takes someone other than alex as plus one

under no circumstances do i think queen domizia wants marc at her wedding did you SEEEE the side eye she shot at him in parc ferme i GASPED ! and i frankly don’t think marc would even goooooo ESPECIALLY without alex lmao. vipers nest in his brain. that being said let’s say ducati is crazy and makes him go for unspecified totalitarian contract reasons. and also my situations.

so! this IS the nightmare scenario for marc. like he is absolutely the loneliest little girl at the school dance. no alex no friends everyone’s italian he’s surrounded by competitors all of whom don’t fuck with him ANDDDD vale’s there with uccio pretending he doesn’t exist (shooting little glances at marc from across the room when he isn’t looking. hyper aware of where he is at all times.) it’s like one of those dreams where you try to wake urself up bc it’s a HORROR MOVIE but he can’t. alone at the bar kinda night. (i will add. even in his distress he DID dress well he looks GOOD. smells INSANE. fitted tux ass goes crazy. meanwhile vale is in a crisp white cotton t shirt worth more than my car. and khakis. marc is miserably horny about it.)

i think we stare down two scenarios here. if he isn’t allowed to leave lmao. ONE! bezz takes sweet loverboy pity on him (alsooo feels weird about pecco’s wedding as he said on that podcast. he’s not elegant he IS single and he does i think lowkey feel the chapter of his life where he’s hanging out as a bachelor with his fun bestie is over. like okay jo march 👍) and decides to take (HIGHLY suspicious but would never show it) marc under his wing not unlike say. rescuing an undersocialized pit bull puppy in need of a home. sticks with marc most of the night once he realizes marc has NOBODY. gets him a lil drunk. tries to make him laugh. throws it back on the dancefloor. maybeeee thinks about kissing him at the end of the night but instead they end up talking about vale. somehow. after that they aren’t friend but marc will call him bezz and fist bump him occasionally. neither of them notice valentino’s WHITE HOT stare on the back of their necks after that lmao

SCENARIO TWO.

saddest little hot girl. runs into vale in the bathroom. vale’s been watching him all night and vice versa they’ve been building to something they KNOWWWW how this was gonna end. and vale’s seen how lonely he is feels a leedle guilty but would DIEE before he let marc know that. odd little stilted convo slides quickly into something catastrophically horny and they end up with marc like. sucking vale’s dick against the wall as vale tells him he’s pretty. petting through his too short aging crisis hair. vale finishes and gets marc off slick and nasty with his hand. fixing his tie in absolute dead silence fixated on liek. the red slick skin of his upper lip. wondering if it would be hot to the touch. and because it’s a wedding and they were tipsy it’s like. okay that happened. we can ignore it forever 👍 and then they get to the next race weekend and they CANT

[ratlordsarah]

more word girl HCs bc this blog is going dry 💀

miss question, lady redundant woman, and Leslie have girls nights out, but they always end up where they wake up crawling out of a dumpster, wake up in a Forrest completely barefoot in 60 degree F weather swarmed by deer, makes it back to one of the three’s places, all of them drunk-crying about how much they love a dog they saw earlier, wake up with a new stray dog as a pet, or some other form of ominous nuanced way to end the night out. (You will have the time of your life)

Two brains def goes on long car rides during the summer as the sun sets, blasting 80s songs down the highway, and makes it back some time in the middle of the night (bro absolutely lives for that, he sings along with more passion than a passion fruit or something)

the girlie trio mentioned earlier, all 3 of them are abba girlies, no one can change my mind.

sometimes, the girl trio and two brains will do a mix of their activities, and they ride around and two brains is doing drifts all over the city while all 4 of them are singing whatta man by salt n pepa, at the top of their lungs

Charlie and meatloaf love doing anything involved with a disco party (they are 70s babies for life)

the show starts in august of 1999 and ends in February 2002

Toby sings along to all the Eminem songs, but can’t rap so it sounds more like a mumble

(Partly canon) miss question and Brent later get married and has a kid who is a very curious sandwich

chuck has the pack man maze burnt into his screen from playing it so much

Seymour and granny may are either half siblings, or cousins. (I gotta make them related, their chemistry would be absolutely legendary)

Seymour is OLDDD (at least in his 60s)

two brains knows how to speak mouse and because of this, he basically has the basement of his warehouse (or attic) dedicated to the rats and mice of fair city. (A majority of his friends are mice, he will hang out with some of them and genuinely forget they aren’t human)

due to the amount of trials two brains goes through each time he’s arrested, and sally botsford being the district attorney, two brains and sally actually become really good friends

two brains is actually really good at becoming genuine friends with people’s moms, it’s insane.

Timmy Tim Bo later makes a band where he’s a backup singer/ guitarist, and can do a little drums too.

Hal hardbargain and big left hand guy are both functional alcoholics

beau handsome’s parents are French, and is a victim of child acting.

lady redundant woman becomes a crazy cat lady, and adopts like 30 cats

(A lot of people I’ve seen has this hc, no idea where it originated from, but here we go) amazo guy’s name is Adam, and he definitely had a pet golden retriever

on the topic of that, I like to think he also is from lexicon, and he’s wordgirl’s biological father or uncle, and Steven’s original friendship with word girl was asked from amazo guy to try and get closer to his daughter/neice, but they all basically became the bestest of friends (and wordgirl looked up to both amazo and Steven very much)

I also feel like amazo (or Adam ) genuinely loves fighting crime, and basically is like Superman in fair city

fair city is either located in New Jersey or California

Steven’s sister is named Marcy, and his niece is named Maggie (called mags tho)

squeaky was genetically modified and his brain was basically originally fused with a psycho’s brain where it’s basically a human thinking mouse with mouse like tendencies, before Steven bought him, which is why he was on sale (for negative 200$)

The butcher would be girl dad of the year

when Steven is really angry (once in a life time) he does the Italian 🤌 thing, and he grew up in Brooklyn NY

due to him growing up in New York, two brains was certainly most pissed when 9/11 happened out of the villains

chuck grew up in Boston before his family moved to fair city about 7 years prior to the show

idk if I have previously said any of these in an earlier post, so sorry if I have lmao 💀