#but then of course so many people are still doing that today

[hellsslibrary]

hi so ive been binging ur works lol I love that u write for blue lock and specifically the male reader !!! Sosoo I'd love to request a shidou x mean top male reader ? Like shidou keeps acting out so reader puts him in his place?

I do three things on purpose. I make you cut onions so I don't cry, I cling to you during horror movies because you get too focused, and I bend over in front of you during training because you're a dirty dog (real quotes from my husband as titles day one).

MASTERLIST is here.

#a.n. : You two humiliating a non-existent guy for the size of his dick........ Basic Tuesday for any gays, I guess.

!!Warnings: tom!dom!male!reader, sub!bottom! Shidou, overstimulation, time before the first selection, so you fuck in a room full of other people at night..... So, humiliation of a guy for a dick actually (not in his face tho), sex on a futon, Shidou without hair gel (I heard that someone didn't like Shidou without gel and cried hyperbolically), he calls you 'cupcake' one time.

One hundred and seven times.

You've thought about killing him so many times. Strangle him. Take his head off. Castrate him. Burn him. Drown him... Anything, really. Why is this idiot even more annoying than usual? Who knows. Well, obviously not you.

Your eyes watched him praise a player again. Of course, this is not surprising for him, he is very respectful to good players, but now? Fuck, this is out of bounds.

You can see perfectly well how his hands stay on this guy for too long. And the way his eyes look at you from time to time. It's been repeated too many times today.

Does he want you to crack? But no. He's going to do it today. And it won't just crack, it will come apart at the seams.

The sound of the futon moving can be heard in an almost empty room as your body bends over his, while his face is buried in the pillow, trying not to moan too loudly. Not that he cares about it, but you do very much.

"I'm s-sorry, cu-cupcake, please—!" he exhales raggedly, clutching at the thin fabric, trying with all his might to stabilize himself and his body from your obviously not gentle thrusts, which seemed to knock his soul out of him piece by piece.

A rhetorical question escapes your lips, and an almost animal grin appears on your lips, seeing his condition. "Now we're just barking, right? You forgot how to bite pretty quickly."

Shidou just whimpers, feeling his body twitching from your thrusts inside his sloppy hole. His curls are disheveled on the bed, and some are stuck to his cheeks or neck from sweat. He just couldn't look into your eyes as usual, knowing full well that he would break even more... He dug his own grave after all.

"That guy couldn't have brought you to this state, you know? He definitely has a dick smaller than my little finger," you reason, lowering one of your hands from his waist lower, feeling the muscles of his stomach tighten as you slide over them, reaching his v-shaped line, and then his crotch. "Don't you agree?"

"Fuck, yes! Def-definitely, yes... Probably th-the same size as an a-ant," Ryusei giggles, swallowing his saliva, arching his back harder, which makes you hiss, feeling like he's become a little tighter.

Although his giggles immediately fade away when you grab his overexcited, spent cock. You immediately slap the hand that's trying to stop you, grabbing his length, making him choke on his own sob.

Tears began to form in his eyes, lingering on his blond eyelashes, and then trickling down his cheeks. He couldn't take another round! He wanted to, but probably couldn't. You're huge, you tease him, you fuck him, you humiliate someone for the size of his dick... Did I mention that you're huge? Anyway, it's fucking Hell! He's a fucking puddle under you, even though he wanted to stay under you like that, because that's actually what he wanted.

Maybe you'd be more gentle if your count of murder methods stopped at about sixty.

"Still fucking want me like this, huh? How many times did you cum?" you ask rhetorically, realizing that he won't answer, just smiling, and then slapping his ass, which makes him squeak, and you enjoy his sounds, because you can't see almost anything.

"Don't worry, I'll do it over and over again until you don't even have the thought of leaving me anymore, do you understand?" Ryusei nodded, and his cock jerked in your grip, forcing you to enter him up to the hilt, and then pull your dick out of him, which immediately turns around to look at you. "Or maybe I need to make it so that you can't stand at all without help..."

Shido pales almost immediately, sensing the sincerity in your voice, and then moans too loudly when you thrust into him again. Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing his face back into the pillows so that he doesn't wake anyone up and so that he stops making silly excuses about how he wants you to pull out your dick.

He looked like a black hole right now, honestly. So he'd better not pretend to be a clogged pipe right now.

[hkthatgffan]

February 10th. Not any important day for most people or even Gravity Falls fans. But for me, this was the day it all began. 8 years ago on Feb 10, 2017, I started my first ever watch of the show. I thought Gravity Falls was not gonna be anything major or play that big a part in my life at the time and figured it would just be a fun little show to take my mind off all the ups and downs of life at the time. Instead it became the beginning of all that I've now had the chance to do and a starting point to help me reach a better and happier overall life.

Today of course I now have this channel and community behind it, as well as the merch I've gotten over the past 8 years from official, fan made and even from Alex Hirsch himself. But back in 2017, I was just the new kid on the block and stuff like getting Journal 3 that March was a huge deal and the first thing I ever bought GF merch wise. For a guy who joined well after the show ended, I'm thankful to those early GF fans I met who left a positive perception of the show and fandom on me that made me stick around and in turn, I hope I've been able to continue that with what I do for new fans who have joined since.

It's crazy honesty how sometimes a small thing you don't think about too much in the moment, can change your life in major ways. IDK where I would be rn if I never found Gravity Falls. I owe so much to the positives this show and the fandom gave me in life and motivated me towards. It of course wasn't all perfect...I mean, every fandom has its bad aspects, but at the end of the day, I'm so grateful for this amazing show and the good it's done for not just me, but so many others.

Hard to imagine that day in 2017 was 8 years ago now and how different things then were. Weirdmageddon 3 wasn't even a year old yet. The next big Gravity Falls milestone upcoming was the show turning 5. Journal 3 Special Edition was still available for preorder. Cipher Hunt had only happened a few months ago. It all felt recent then...now it's so long ago you could make a nostalgia compilation of it all, lol.

Here's to 8 years of being a Gravity Falls fan. Once a Faller...always a Faller.

[cuubism]

this instagram reel made me think so strongly of a human AU viktor that I had to write a little ficlet about it

--

Normally, the fact that Jayce is such a light sleeper is a problem. Being easily awoken by any rain, wind, traffic, Cait traipsing in at midnight after going to see Vi, his own anxious thoughts--it's not beneficial to his sanity. Today, though. Today, he's grateful for it, because it means he wakes up at 4am when his phone buzzes with two Snap messages in quick succession.

Blearily, he opens the app, squinting against the bright light of the screen. There are really only two people in the world who send him snaps, and Cait is asleep in the other room of their shared apartment. Which means it's Viktor.

It takes him a second to even comprehend what he's seeing.

Viktor seems to be reclining in a hospital bed, shirt open over his bare chest which is covered with various wires stuck to the skin, an IV in the back of his hand and a heart monitor clipped to his finger. Despite all this, he's throwing up a peace sign with his free hand and the look he's giving the camera is downright sultry, his dark undereye circles almost giving the impression of a smoky eye.

I lived, bitch, the text over the photo says.

Jayce rapidly taps through to the next one.

Similar photo, but now the text reads, It's giving Consumption core, whatever the fuck that means.

It doesn't sound much like Viktor but hopefully that means someone's there with him, even if they're just taking photos instead of, you know, helping.

Nevertheless, Jayce vaults out of bed, pulling on the nearest clothes and grabbing his keys and-- because Viktor is sick or hurt or having a flare up or God knows what-- rushing out of his bedroom.

He's scrambling so much that he trips over the rug in the living room and goes down, hitting a side table with his shoulder and knocking the lamp on it onto the floor with a clatter. Fuck. He pushes himself to his feet again and--

The light in Cait's room goes on. Vi opens the door, rubbing her eyes. "What the fuck, man."

"Sorry," Jayce says, abandoning the fallen table in favor of shoving his feet into his shoes. "I gotta go, Viktor's in the hospital and--"

"What?" Cait emerges behind Vi. "Is he okay?"

"I think so? He sent me a snap so--"

Vi picks up Jayce's phone from where it's fallen to the floor and studies the picture. "Sounds like Jinx is with him." She tilts her head. "Kind of a good photo. Hot."

"Vi." Cait takes the phone and gives it back to Jayce. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, he wouldn't want everyone crowding." Viktor hadn't even specifically asked Jayce to come but like hell is he not going to. "I gotta-- I need to go--"

"Alright, be safe," Cait says, and Jayce is already rushing out the door.

While on the bus to the hospital, he texts Viktor directly. Are you okay??

The singularity is near, Jayce, Viktor writes back. I'm ever closer to transcending biology. I am composed of so many wires now; soon they will replace my veins entirely.

Jayce can't tell if the fact that he's typing in coherent sentences means he's okay or if the fact he's expounding on futurology at four in the morning from a hospital bed means he's not okay.

I like you not composed of wires, he replies.

Too late, Viktor says. I did try to explain to them that this is normal but they insisted on all of the wires.

Pretty sure it's not *normal*, Jayce says.

On the plus side, this hospital isn't stingy with the good drugs.

Jesus Christ. That explains the philosophizing.

Excuse you, I can do it perfectly well sober.

Should have brought you your Fuller novel the way people bring stuffed animals to the hospital. You could hold it for comfort while you fall asleep.

You are coming? says Viktor.

Yeah, Jayce says, of course I'm coming.

~

Technically, Jayce is Viktor's emergency contact, but there's still been issues getting in to see him in the past since Jayce is "not family." But apparently, Viktor had Jinx tell the hospital front staff that he was allowed in, because this time they direct him right to Viktor's room when he arrives.

Viktor is sitting up in bed when he gets there, indeed attached to a lot of wires, though a nurse is taking some of them off so they must have finished some tests. This is a different hospital bed, an actual room rather than the temporary ER situation he seemed to have been in in the photo before, which is not a good sign, though at least it hopefully means Viktor will be discouraged from leaving before its safe for him to do so.

The nurse passes Jayce in the doorway as she leaves, and Viktor turns to him, offering a wan smile. He looks tired, but then, he always looks tired lately.

Jinx is indeed there, perched on the end of the bed like a gargoyle. She waves at Jayce. "See, I told you my messages would get him to come."

"Some messages," Jayce says, sitting in the chair by Viktor's bed. Viktor looks at him curiously, and Jayce hands over his phone.

Viktor studies the snaps, and rubs his forehead tiredly. "Jinx, I asked you to text Jayce, not send hospital boudoir, or whatever this is." He peers closer at the messages. "Hm. They are good photos, though."

"Told ya."

"Viktor. Are you okay?" Jayce asks, pocketing his phone again. He takes Viktor's hand between both of his own, rubbing his knuckles.

"Just a flare up," Viktor says. Sure, Jayce thinks, 'just.' "Truthfully--do not gloat--I've been up too late and I got dehydrated, and I'm sure that exacerbated things."

"We were on a roll," Jinx complains. "There's no time for sleep when you're in the zone."

"Hm, until there suddenly is," Viktor says brightly. "I am okay, Jayce, truly."

"Alright. I was worried." And, carefully, he lifts Viktor's hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles.

This thing between them--it's still new and tentative. More tentative from Jayce's end, really, he's always worried about mucking it up. But he tries to remind himself that nothing's really changed, they're still the same friends that they've always been. They just... do other stuff, too.

Well, and Jinx is now sending him photos of Viktor looking like the star of a vampire romance film.

"I'm going to get snacks," Jinx declares unsubtly, climbing off the bed and heading for the door.

"The vending machine has Taki's," Viktor calls helpfully as she leaves.

"How do you know that?" Jayce asks.

"I've been here before."

Of course.

Jayce sighs, pressing his forehead to their joined hands.

"You know," Viktor says, "if you were not able to bring me a book to cuddle. Am I allowed a you to cuddle?"

"I'm pretty sure that's against the rules."

"Meh, rules," Viktor says, dismissively. "What will they do, kick me out?"

"Kick me out," Jayce says.

"They won't," Viktor says, with such certainty that Jayce somehow believes him.

So he climbs into the hospital bed beside Viktor, arranging him carefully around all the wires and connections. Viktor curls into his side, resting his head on Jayce's shoulder.

"Thank you for coming," Viktor murmurs.

"Of course." Jayce can't imagine not coming as soon as he got that message. Even if Viktor thinks it's all unremarkable and normal. Viktor being in pain is never not going to make him drop everything and run. Even if that means he has to do a hell of a lot of running.

"You know," Viktor says. "The future of disembodied cloud consciousness does have a shortcoming."

"Oh, yeah? Only one?"

Viktor tsks, poking his arm. "It occurs to me that without a body it would be difficult to appreciate my personal furnace here."

Jayce squeezes him tighter. "Maybe your future disembodied consciousness will just have to have a temperature sensor. Might as well give it a pressure sensor too... oh wait, I think we might be circling back around to a body..."

"Perhaps it is not all bad to have a body," Viktor sighs. "Only mostly."

"Only mostly," Jayce agrees, kissing the top of his head.

--

two books referenced obliquely in this:

The Singularity is Near by Ray Kurzweil

Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth by R Buckminster Fuller

I think Viktor would be into them.

[ledesaid]

Almost Complete - Shazam without Achilles

↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕

AU - Billy receives the news, not all his sponsors agreed that he was to be the new champion of magic.

Solomon was happy to guide him with his advice. ▲ Hercules was convinced that he would be a great lion when he grew up a little. ▲ Atlas was very kind and is willing to bear some of the weight of the new champion. ▲ Zeus had given his approval in consensus with the choice of the wizard. ▲ Mercury really enjoyed feeling the strength of speed through Billy again. ▲ Achilles, yes, this Achilles... He didn't want him fighting for justice or fighting in general. He was completely against a child throwing himself against evil, injustice, pain, and many more things that Solomon hushed up so as not to worry Billy. ▲ It was non-negotiable, Achilles would not give his gift until Billy was an adult or understood the magnitude of what it meant not to have it.

Then...

Yes. There was something that didn't come in the demigod package instructions or even in the warnings...

Billy receives an echo of all the damage he recibes in his divine form.

And boy... does it hurt!

Billy has paraded through all kinds of injuries. Black eyes, some broken or bruised bone and he is proud of having recovered from all of them.

Although...

People are too scared about his integrity.

So, there was only one alternative left, you know, that's why he left the orphanage and all his previous foster homes.

He had gotten used to the whole system and was at a dead end at the same time. But he didn't want to give rise to misunderstandings... Misunderstandings that would generate a barrage of abuse reports... heavens.

That wasn't heroic.

"What happened to you, Billy?"

"Sorry, I fell again..."

Billy doesn't want them to get involved. He wants to be a hero and is willing to bear that weight. That's why he took what little he had and escaped.

So he is opting for a word-based approach. Talking is better than hitting. Solomon always whispers it and, given his situation, he tries to hold on as much as he can.

But sometimes... one cannot choose.

Hal: Cap, are you okay?

Marvel: Yes! It's just going to leave me an ugly bruise. Do you know... Do you know how to heal a rib at home?

Hal: We'll fix it in the Watchtower, Cap. Can you still fight?

Billy knows he should say no. The blow broke a couple of ribs, he has felt a tingling sensation, the magic has healed the blow... But the echo of the damage will leave him with a broken rib.

Another blow in the same place and it could be much worse... Going to a hospital and returning to the system... Goodbye Captain... Goodbye freedom... Hello endless persecution.

Marvel: Yes, throw it at me, I'll send it to jail with one hit.

Hal: That's the spirit, Cap!

With the end of the day, Captain Marvel delivered the final blow.

But the one who really took it was Billy.

As usual, the infirmary in the Watchtower did not detect any damage in his adult form... But they didn't know what awaited him in Fawcett.

Marvel: Batman, sir, I need to take a couple of weeks off. I have an urgent matter to attend to and it cannot be postponed.

Batman: I'm going to send the notice, so we can support you in your city. Thanks for today, Captain.

Marvel: Thank you very much too Batman, I don't know what I would do without you.

Batman: Captain... Are you sure you're not hurt?

Billy: I-I have the resistance of Achilles, remember? I mean! Of course, I'm not hurt, Mr. Batman!

Billy narrowly escapes and prepares. It's time.

That terrible moment in his superhero career...

The curtain must fall.

Billy has already thought about it. The magnitude of the injury...

He must transform as close as possible to the hospital. If he can walk, he will go to his hideout and if he can't, he will have to surrender. Escaping will be terrible, but he would think about that when the time came.

It takes a while, pronouncing that word is so easy... But now it brings a bitter taste.

Sha... Sha...

Billy sits down. It will hurt less if he is sitting when it happens.

Billy: Shazam...

Billy faints next to an alley. It's the last thing he sees before waking up in the hospital.

He wears an oxygen mask.

His head hurts... Had he also hit there?

There were several devices connected, oh, and a social worker next to his bed.

He rejoined the Watchtower three weeks later. Batman had many questions, and Captain Marvel did what he does best: he escaped.

[unhinged-simp]

hi hehe 👉🏻👈🏻 16 with haku and rui ? 🥺

Yessss!!! This is so cuteee. I love thiss. This was very fun to write. In Rui’s, it mentions you get a drink, but it’s not specified whether it’s alcoholic or not. Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy.

Prompt 16: “Wait, you actually like me back?”

Valentine’s prompt list

Today was the day you were going to confess to Haku. It was valentines day, so you prepared some chocolates to give to him when you did. You were nervous, you didn’t even know if he liked you back for one, and two he had so many other people who liked him too.

“Something on your mind?” Haku asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. You jumped. Where the heck did he come from?

“Haku, you scared me,” you exclaimed. Haku chuckled.

“Sorry about that. You just looked so cute thinking that I was wondering what you were thinking about.” You looked down, the little bag of chocolates you made for him were in your hands. It was now or never.

“Haku, I have to tell you something,” you started.

“Would you like to go on a date, Darling?” Haku interrupted. You stared for a minute.

“A date? You’re asking me?” You were flabbergasted. “Wait, you actually like me back?”

“Yeah, I do,” Haku confirmed. “So? Would you like to go on a date?”

“Yes I would.”

You were hanging out at Rui’s bar. You were his only customer at the moment, so you two were just talking. It was nice just having some alone time with him.

“Rui, this is delicious,” you said, and sipped a new drink special he made.

“Glad you like it, I don’t know why I didn’t think of making it before.” Rui smiled, it was a gorgeous one. Though all of Rui’s smiles were gorgeous in your opinion.

“Rui,” you started, you can’t believe you were actually doing this. “Would you like to go out on a date on Valentine's day?” You had actually managed to get it out.

Rui was stunned. He even paused in wiping the glass he was cleaning. He just stared wide eyed at your smiling face.

“A date?” The word slipped out of his mouth. “Ughh, that was what I wanted to ask.”

“Guess I beat you to it,” you said with a laugh. Rui suddenly paused.

“Wait, does that mean you actually like me back?” He yelled, his eyes wide again, hands on the bar counter.

“Of course I do.” Rui straightened. His mind processing. He stood still for just a second, before finally he continued to wipe the glass with a beautiful smile.

“I would love to go on a date you.”

[luckymousey]

Thoughts about Trey's dream (parts 257-268) (mostly things I liked)

Hey! I’m back!

Today I managed to start and finish Trey’s dream, let’s start!

Man, they even uploaded Riddle’s dream by now, I need to watch it, I don’t have enough time, help

⚠️English is not my first language and there will be spoilers for those who still haven't seen Trey's dream⚠️

Warnings?: possible swearing and grammatical mistakes

They arrive at Trey’s dream and I fucking hope they deepen up in Trey and Cater’s relationship (I write at the same time as I watch because it’s easier this way for me (I have short term memory) so I still don’t know what’s going to happen next, just to let you know)

Ace posing for the camera mid-travelling? What the hell? How!? Like, Cater filming the whole fly is easy to understand, but weren’t they flying way too fast to pose? My man here is unaffected by wind or what? 🤨 Or are they going as fast as a roller coaster?

Deuce is definitely getting his magic wheel’s driver license before the car’s one, I can feel it, he even wanted to make a magic wheel club before.

I can’t believe I was right, almost no one in Heartslabyul gets dizzy because of this type of travelling (though Cater gave another explanation, maybe i didn’t hit right in the spot)

Yo, if the Mirror of Darkness judges the dizziness resistance (I don’t know what it’s called, but you get me, right) does Heartslabyul have a big gap in number of students compared to the rest of the dorms? (I know it’s more of the sound thing, but just a question I had)

Ace being offended by the fact that we didn’t go to Deuce and he first, like, I WOULD’VE loved to go to you first, but I just couldn’t choose what dream I wanted to go first, ok? You understand? (And his dream broke my heart too many times)

AND NOW ITS POSSIBLE TO FLIGHT WITH 10 PEOPLE, MAN, SILVER IS DRAINING HIMSELF, ISN’T HE?, AFTER EVERYTHING IS OVER, HE’S GOING TO BE LIKE: “yeah, yeah, I’m happy everything is solved, I love you all, gn” HE’S GOING TO SLEEP FOR 100 YEARS FOR REAL AFTER THIS

Sebek being proud of and thankful for Lilia and his grandpa is so cute 🥰

AND MY KNIGHT, THE MIGHTY SILVER, COMES AND TALKS ABOUT GRIM TOO, YEAH, THIS IS ONE OF THE PARTS I LIKED THE MOST Grim defending us is just so cute, you guys know those headcanon some people have that Grim gives Yuu a present for Mother’s/Father’s Day because he sees them as his paternal figure because he never had someone who took care of him so much 🥺? It reminded me of those

Everyone complimenting a very embarrassed Grim gives me years of life

I can’t believe Grim said that if he was to leave Yuu behind he wouldn’t be able to study just AFTER what happened in Ace’s dream

And now the one Braincell trio talk together and tease Grim like siblings would, it’s so heartwarming 🥰

AND LEONA APPEARS WITH A FLOWN ON HIS FACE TO REMIND THEM THEIR MISSION, HE’S STILL TRAPPED WITH THEM WHEN I'M SURE HE WANTS TO FINALLY GET A NAP

The way the characters start naming sweets and everything they can smell impresses me, I can’t get a single name right when guessing what food is only by its smell 😭

My man Cater stopping everyone from suddenly entering the kitchen and showing his intelligence, he knows how to act and what to prevent

But his line?: “all I’ve to do is to drag the NPC outside, beat them and return” that sounded so sadist for me

CATER LITERALLY PUTTING HIMSELF WITH LEONA AND IDIA IS SO FUNNY, ONE IS A COMPLETE INTROVERT WHO HATES SOCIALIZING AND THE OTHER ONE FINDS CATER’S ENERGETIC PERSONALITY ANNOYING

Cater calling himself weak and that he chose Leona for said reason as unsettling, I had the same exact reaction as Leona: “don’t lie” he’s not weak! Why are you sayin that Cater? It makes me laugh a little

And then, of course, Cater drags them as Idia starts pleading for mercy: “no, don’t! Stop!”

Idia is the one who’s in most danger because he’s controlling everything, directly helping them and also communicating with STYX (who still didn’t fall asleep), running the danger that because of that, Malleus could catch him (let’s remember he caught Ortho, it wouldn’t be surprising if he suspected Idia) and he worries about having to accompany a Heartslabyul student

OMG, Ace wishing good luck to the three of them was so pleasing to my ear, I dunno, it felt…✨amazing✨ (it probably was the cheerful and sneaky way he said it

We enter the kitchen and it’s so fucking amazing, so beautiful, so perfect, AAAAAH, I LOVE IT (Alice in Wonderland is literally my fav Disney movie, I just love anything related to it) (but I ain’t forgiving them for what they did to my heart with Ace’s dream)

Something I don’t see in the kitchen is a teapot with three spouts, I demand my three-spouts-teapot

But I do see some Cheshire Cat’s cookies, they look so damn cool, I’m definitely making them when I have time

I just had a random thought, if anyone wants to make their birthday party (or anything else)

Heartslabyul themed they could make ‘sweets-garlands’, something that looks just like the food that’s flying in the new kitchen, it would be sick

Riddle would be terrorized by the new kitchen, but I bet that goth Riddle would be happily running like a kid to get more and more food (basing this off the spoilers I read about how he became a little spoiled in his dream)

AND CHENYA MAKES HIS APPEARANCE, HELLO CHENYA, I MISSED YOU 😭😭😭

Trey with his new uniform makes something inside me, I don’t know how to explain, it’s just kjhskjhgahjksjhsjk

If you look at the new clothes of Cater, Trey and Riddle, you’ll see they’re all matching, they’re wearing matching outfits and you’re not going to change my mind.

Ugh, I wish they made a new uniform for Chenya instead of just giving him a crown (but also, considering Chenya’s personality, it might be that he just doesn’t want to wear his uniform OR that his clothes can be considered uniform both in NRC and RSA)

Deuce not being able to remember Chenya’s full name reminds me of when he tried to say “Diasomnia” in the Heartslabyul Arc (I know Chenya’s name is long asf and is literally like a tongue twister, but it reminded me of that moment)

And then Ortho finally gets Chenya’s personal information…is this even legal? I mean, I know Ortho wouldn’t use their personal information abasing them (or maybe yes), but this can’t be legal (but considering what Rollo tried to do and the situation with Fellow and Gidel, I think I can say that laws there don’t work)

I swear that while the third years were reading Chenya’s information, the cat was definitely playing Dress to Impress, he was hitting all the poses he could

Idia and Leona are still talking about the theory that both Trey and Cater didn’t like Riddle as dorm leader and yada yadaaa, I feel Cater was more like he wanted to be able to live without having so many strict rules (but he wasn’t dissatisfied with Riddle) while Trey’s definitely more like he just wants Riddle to relax a little (I think. Like, I’m sure Chenya doesn’t mind being dorm leader, he’s cool and relaxed)

Idia being scolded by Ortho is *chef kiss*, I love their dynamic

Ortho is going to be a great uncle (if he really gets a nephew/niece), he’s like that friend who's like the cutest one in the group but in reality he’s the most intelligent and mature

Grim telling Ace to lower his head is so cuteeee, I need to see a fanart of all of them trying to look what’s happening in the kitchen

And now everyone is fighting with everyone while Deuce just sighs at the sight of the friends he got (even Ortho is glaring 😂)

Returning to the kitchen, Cater approaches Trey…and he tells Cater he’s not the real one…TREY, THAT’S NOT HOW YOU SAID HI TO SOMEONE; RUN, CATER, RUN AWAY

Man, the fact that Chenya is not more powerful than Riddle but still manages to keep his position as dorm leader makes sense, I think it’s like a reflection of what happens in the film: the Cheshire Cat constantly mocks the Queen of Hearts.

My dumb ass doesn’t understand Leona’s scientific explanation about Chenya’s UM, so I’ll simply say that it makes his body disappear

And the fact that Chenya pulled Riddle’s belt is just like when the Cheshire Cat used the Queen’s flamingo to lift her skirt

I swear to God that Chenya’s references to the original film are so *another chef kiss 💋*

The language Chenya uses (the ‘Pokandue’ word) would be something like Riddlish, from EAH, right?

“Whether I go or not depends on my mood”, translation: “I’ll only go if something perks my interest, if not, fuck off”, Chenya is so sassy, something like Floyd, I love him (I’m starting to thing he’s my favorite character, yes, a secondary character is my favorite character)

AND HIS HUMMING COULDN’T GO MISSING

“It’s not like there’s a huge difference between the reality and his dream”, Idia, dear…just wait

Oh, fuck, I just realized Trey was talking that he looked thinner than dream!Cater, not that he knew he didn’t belong to his dream, fuck, it makes sense, I almost forgot the meatballs existed

And while they’re talking about how they could wake him up Trey appears with his ‘Grandma “you’re too skinny, darling” mode’ activated and asks them if they’re hungry.

Trey still remembering Cater’s hatred for sweet things is so sweet of him (yes, I made another pun on it, hehe)

When I talked about Trey having a Grandma mode, I wasn’t lying man, in this part, he just fucking told them to eat 5 or 10 slices of the food, Trey, my man, my chef, calm down, you already have too many meatballs, you don’t need more

…and now Leona eats an entire pie…it’s understandable, he likes to eat…but man, in two bites?

Leona hating vegetables is so funny and then he demands for more food with meat, he approves, he approves

And Cater saying 200 tarts are too much even if there a lot of students in Heartslabyul…if you knew, Cater, if you knew

*puts voice of documentary filmmaker* And while the humans (and a robot and a cat who denies being a cat) are discussing which Riddle is weirder, the one in Ace’s dream or the one in Trey’s, something huge is slowly approaching them, it easily exceeds the average human size and weight, what will it be? An elephant? A walking building? An even weirder Riddle?…

Ehhhh, it wasn’t entirely wrong.

And nooooow, *drum roll* CONTESTANT NUMBER-

Ah, wait, they dropped some Trey Clover lore.

Oh, and I also wanted to say that it’s so amazing that the dorm also changes on its own and also have mushroom and cookies that can make you bigger, they really put a lot of detail in Heartslabyul (maybe because this was the first dorm)

When Idia said: “eh, etto…”, it sounded so cute ahjjksjakj

And I also find so cute that he was the one who started talking, and not just talking, but starting a conversation, he’s slowly opening to others (just a little, tiny bit, but I’m sure it’s a big step for him)

Idia and Trey have something in common! They both started doing what they like to do now just because that was just what they were used to (programming and baking respectively)

He was excited by the kitchen in Heartslabyul! Now I headcanon that he loves going to Ikea

and look at the furniture

I said it in my post defending Trey and I will say it again, Trey didn’t know what was going to happen to Riddle if he snuck out, even Idia and Leona are so fucking surprised by the 5 hours Mrs. Rosehearts took to yell at his family, and not only Trey wasn't the culprit of anything, but yelling at a married couple over a piece of tart, A FUCKING PIECE OF TART, is ridiculous.

And now we’re re-telling Riddle’s childhood, whyyyyyyyyyy 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

And Chenya and Trey see him as their baby brother!!! THAT’S WHAT I NEEDED TO HEAR, RIDDLE, SEND YOUR MAMA TO HELL AND GO AND LIVE SOMEWHERE ELSE, YOU CAN BE EITHER RIDDLE CLOVER OR RIDDLE ALCHEMIVICH PINKA

And only now you’re telling me Trey was forced to be vice-leader 🥺? RELEASE MY BOY, YANA, RELEASE HIM (only if he wants to, of course, we don’t know if he’s now happy with the situation)

Damn, seeing Trey in his normal dorm uniform feels after this long weird

Oh, WAIT, IT’S THE HAT, HE’S NOT WEARING THE HAT IN THE FLASHBACK, I know we can see him without his hat in his school uniform, but it’s weird seeing him using the dorm uniform without the hat

Wait, wait, wait, wait, THE FACT THAT CATER, WHO IS NOT USED TO HAVE LONG-TERM RELATIONSHIPS, IS THE ONE TALKING AND ANALYZING TREY’S DESIRE FOR CHENYA TO BE THERE WITH HIM IS SO HEARTBREAKING

Leona is so sadist: “let’s just turn into sand everything Trey created for his dream. Let’s start with that silly, striped cat” maybe it’s because I’m a stupid, sensitive person, but I wouldn’t be able to even think about destroying something that makes another person happy 🥹

OUR SPECIAL GUESTS ARE FINALLY HEREEEE

*drum roll* CONTESTANT NUMBER 1: ACE TRAPPOROLLA

CONTESTANT NUMBER 2: DEUCE SPADEROLL

CONTESTANT NUMBER 3: KEITO DIABETO

AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, CONTESTANT NUMBER 4: RIDDLE ROLLINGBALL

Who will our bachelor, Yuu Yuusurname, choose?

(Omg, the voiceeeees, they’re hilarious)

(The way both Deuce and Cater both though they were hedgehogs who turned into giants just shows us how crazy the dorm is and how used they’re to it)

Going tbh, when I saw the meatballs and Trey’s SSR card I thought: “oh, so…Hansel and Gretel, right?”

Bro, when they put the character besides their meatball-self is like looking an ‘before vs after’ meme

“There are two Ace and Deuce!” “It’s true!” “I didn’t notice because they were so small!” OF COURSE YOU DIDN'T NOTICE, YOU EVEN CAME ROLLING INSTEAD OF WALKING

“Aren’t you all…perfectly round?” NO, TREY, HUMANS CAN'T BE ESPHERES, PLEASE, WAKE UP

Bro, imagine a student who wears glasses and only wears glasses because contact lenses make him uncomfortable, but here’s the plot twist: he’s a Heartslabyul student, round like a ball, big like an elephant, how is he going to wear his glasses??

Haha, Sebek and Silver were more worried about Riddle not being able to ride his horse Vorpal than anything else

Yk something curious? First, I know Trey’s desire is more about his peers being able to live freely as they want, but the result was way too far away from his motto: “I’m just a normal guy”, and second, this would actually make sense as he’s the based off the Mad Hater isn’t it? We kind of had to expect something crazy

The way the meatballs just start rolling to attack them, even Silver was taken down by them, god gracious, they’re going to be flattened up into a rug…WHO WANTS THE SPECIAL EDITION “THE GREAT GRIM” RUG FOR THEIR HOUSE? LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WE HAVE ONLY ONE PRODUCT LEFT, BUY IT BEFORE SOMEONE DOES SO BEFORE YOU

Ok, but the fact that Tre’s first flashbacks were literally Riddle being a tyrant…lowkey makes

me want to cry a little

”I don’t like sweets at all, but it’s so delicious I can’t help myself!” *wrong answer noise* EEEEEEEEEE, Cater would NEVER say that, he already has his little trauma with sweets, leave my boy alone

Trey’s little laugh before pointing out what his real friends do and then saying he feels sick by watching them eat his food, ✨perfect✨

MY CHEF TREY CLOVER IS BACK MY PEOPLE, HE WOKE UP, YESSSSS

Aye, Ace’s coughing was nice to hear too, I dunno, when characters make small little noises is always fun for me to hear

UMMMM, Leona telling Trey owes him and Trey simply laughing, I’m also stealing this for my 3rd years headcanon

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you”…I mean, if you want to 😆

“Will a normal mage like me be useful in this situation?” TREY, WE ARE GOING TO TALK ABOUT THIS AFTER WE BEAT MALLEUS and probably Grim’s ASS

“Don’t make fun of me, Leona.” That’s another thing that’s going to my 3rd years headcanon 💅🏻

Everyone telling Trey he was their wildcard but I remember Idia calling him “Riddle’s pacifier” and I’m not letting you forget about that >:3

Ace taking a guess about Riddle’s dream by saying he’ll probably dream about rules and almost everyone agreeing…you’re all so bad at the guessing game, guys really, you shouldn’t play it anymore

Silver and Trey watching their first year students in disappointment and slight embarrassment is so mom coded for them, idc if Silver doesn’t really have mom vibes, this is my opinion

AND IDIA CALLED THEM PARENTS OF KINDERGARTEN CHILDREN, I LOVE HIM, TWINNNS

So we’ve reached the end of my post, I hope you enjoyed it!

[heylittleriotact]

𝐢 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐄𝐦𝐦𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐱 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐀𝐔

“If you’d like to bring in Mr. Kaminski’s clothing today, someone will be in until five… yes, I’ll be here till five too… oh, okay - go ahead…” Rook hit ‘print’ on the open Funeral Director Statement of Death document and adjusted the phone against her ear to hear better over the sound of the nearby printer coming to life. 

Emmrich was standing in front of the raised ledge of her desk, tucking his business card into the inside cover of the folder that Rook was preparing that they gave to families during arrangements. It contained a number of helpful checklists and pamphlets containing grief counselling resources, estate administration assistance, urn catalogues, memorial jewelry offerings, and of course, the Funeral Director’s Statements of Death that were generally required by banks and businesses in order to close accounts on behalf of the deceased. 

“Undergarments? Completely up to you, and not required. Many choose to provide socks and underwear for their loved ones because they were just part of what they normally wore day-to-day. There’s no need to go out and purchase new ones if you don’t want to.” Rook finished, listened, smiled. “Oh no, don’t worry - lots of people ask the same question. It’s not weird at all.” She quirked an eyebrow at Emmrich who looked amused as he stepped behind the desk and took the freshly printed stack of Statements of Death, returning to his side of the desk, and reaching under the overhang in front of Rook, feeling around for the desk seal. 

“Okay, thank you, Glenn… see you before five. Take care.” Rook hung up the desk phone and started signing the Statements of Death that Emmrich had managed to seal while she was on the phone. “You guys do tell people during arrangements that it’s fine and completely normal to bring underwear for their loved ones, don’t you? Because I feel like people are constantly asking me that question.” 

“We do,” Emmrich sighed, still smirking slightly. “But they tend to forget - much is discussed during arrangements and it can be overwhelming, given the circumstances.” 

He handed Rook another stack of sealed Statements of Death and lifted his gaze to the window behind her. It was Saturday so there was only one administrator scheduled to work over the weekend, and it was Rook’s turn. Truth be told, he got the impression that she preferred her solitary weekends, even if it meant being a bit more strategic with her time management when things got busy. She seemed perfectly confident and capable, however, as she ran the office on her own, fielding calls from families, writing and submitting obituaries to the local paper, setting up and running identifications, and whatever else may come up - which in this profession could be nearly anything. 

“It’s still snowing,” Emmrich observed before resuming his task of sealing the Statements of Death, slipping the bottom corner of a page between the plates of the seal and pressing down on the handle; withdrawing the paper, then doing the same with the next. “I could drive you home again, if you don’t feel like standing around in the snow?” 

If he drove her home today, it would make it the third day in a row since the first day he managed to coax her into his car earlier in the week. He really didn’t mind doing it - even if it was very much out of his way. He did enjoy driving, and he knew that even though she hadn’t said as much, Rook appreciated getting home in half an hour instead of the usual hour-plus her regular commute stole from her day. 

She had been much less combative the day before as well, which surprised Emmrich. She was still far from chatty, and remained somewhat guarded when he asked questions or made conversation, but she hadn’t called him a creep once yesterday, and that had to be some sort of progress. 

“Um… oh. You don’t have to,” was her reply - he knew it would be. 

“I know I don’t have to. I’m asking you.” 

She didn’t like burdening people with herself, he’d discovered. She was stubbornly independent: a useful trait to have for one pursuing this calling - taking initiative was not something that could be taught.

“I… yeah, okay. I guess if it’s not any trouble for you. I know it’s really out of the way for you…” 

This was word-for-word the exact same thing she’d said yesterday. It was like she was worried that because it wasn’t necessarily convenient for him, he was going to turn around and demand gas money for his troubles… or something else.

“No trouble at all,” he assured her, accepting the signed Funeral Director’s Statements of Death from her and slipping them into the folder. 

“Alright then. That would be awesome. It’s still really shitty out there and weekend transit service means there’s even more time between buses, so it was gonna take me forever to get home and I’m going out tonight.” She set her pen down and updated the checklist she had open on the computer monitor on her right. “Thanks, Emmrich.” 

And then she smiled. A real, genuine, proper smile - the kind she gave families. 

He couldn’t help feeling like he’d won some long-fought battle. Unlocked some great secret that dwelled within the simplicity of the expression. 

“Of course, Rook,” he tipped his head politely, and picked up the folder. The office administrators were supposed to bring them in and hand them to the funeral director so they could be introduced to the family as they would be working with them a fair bit in the coming days, but Emmrich always thought it felt rather archaic to accept the package from the obedient administrator and introduce her like she was the Girl Friday of the death-care profession: instead he just mentioned the administrator by name, and told the family that they would be in touch to assist in the coming days, and that they would physically at the chapel each day to assist, even if he wasn’t.

The doorbell chimed, indicating someone had just entered the front doors. Rook looked up at the chapel schedule displayed on the large monitor mounted on the wall and stood from the desk, smoothing the front of her skirt. 

“I think that’s the Lawrence family here for Mr. Lawrence’s urn.” She breezed past Emmrich out into the foyer without another word. “Hello,” he heard her say to whoever was there in the same friendly, amiable tone she’d used on the phone. 

He picked up the folder and returned to the arrangement office, still feeling like he had accomplished something. 

He pulled into the garage, put the car in park, and set the parking brake before cutting the ignition. The interior lights blinked on when he opened the door to get out, but he paused when his eyes landed on a small, round object sitting on the passenger seat that hadn’t been there before. 

Rook’s headphones. Oh dear. 

They must have slipped out of her coat pocket without her noticing. 

Emmrich picked up the smooth blue case and sighed, not quite sure what to do: he knew Rook was incredibly attached to her headphones - he’d seen her walk through the doors in the morning with them in her ears enough. Had seen her jam them in her ears as she walked out the doors at the end of her shift. She even had them in during her breaks, where she could be found in the staff room at the end of the table, eschewing conversation with co-workers in favour of her music as she tucked into her daily styrofoam bowl of instant noodles.

She’d be gutted when she discovered that she’d lost them…

He could drive them back over to her apartment, he supposed, but she’d mentioned that she was going out tonight, so she might be gone by the time he made it all the way across town again. Besides, he got the feeling that showing up unannounced in her lobby might net a negative reaction from the already defensive and guarded young woman.

At the very least he should tell her that she forgot them in his car, and they were safe and accounted for, and he’d return them to her in the morning. 

Yes. 

She couldn’t possibly take offense to that.

Of course she could, he reminded himself, closing the door and withdrawing his phone from his breast pocket and pulling up the shared internal company directory that included the personal home and cell numbers of every employee of McDermott & Rafferty. She’s not going to be pleased that I’m taking it upon myself to text her.

I could call her instead.

No… no that would be worse. 

Or I could simply not say anything and just return her headphones in the morning without crossing a boundary and imposing myself on her evening.

But if I do that, she’ll be taking the bus into work in the morning without any music to listen to, and no idea where her headphones have gone. At the very least if I tell her she won’t have to worry, right?

His thumb hovered over her number on the spreadsheet as he continued to weigh the pros and cons of his intentions. 

“‘Creepy dude’ indeed,” he admonished himself, copying the number and pasting it into the To: field of a new message.

‘Hello, Rook. This is Emmrich. I’m very sorry for the intrusion of your privacy: I got your number from the company directory. I just wanted to let you know that you left your headphones in my car in case you were looking for them and were worried you’d lost them. I’ll hold onto them tonight and give them back when I see you at work tomorrow. Take care. Emmrich.’

Not allowing himself to think about it and doubt himself any further, he hit Send, and with the affirmative and cheery ‘bwoop’ indicating the message had gone through, he tensed, waiting for the response that would surely be something along the lines of: ‘Wow. I let you drive me home three times and suddenly you think that’s an invitation to start texting me? God you’re so creepy.’

But no such response came. 

No response came at all. 

He stared at the message: the little footer under the bubble of text that said ‘Delivered - 6:46 PM’ stayed that way until 7:03 when he finally blackened the screen and pocketed the phone. It was entirely possible she had read receipts turned off and had read his message and was currently sending a screenshot of it to all of her friends with the accompanying text: ��Look at what this horny old pervert from work just sent me - he thinks he’s being subtle’ punctuated by a number of emojis or something to that effect.

So be it - at least he’d done the right thing. If she chose to misinterpret that, it was her problem, not his. 

He’d been nothing but courteous and professional in their dealings: it was hardly his fault if she perceived every kind word from another person as a threat. If anything it was rather sad. 

He unlocked the garage door and entered the darkness of his townhouse, light flooding the entryway from the garage behind him as he was greeted with the pulsing trill of the alarm system telling him he had thirty seconds to disarm it, and the harmonized meows of Manfred as the bone-white cat emerged from the darkness, paws pitter-pattering over the hardwood as he looked up at Emmrich and began to regale him with the events of his day. 

He keyed in the code to the alarm system and crouched down to scratch under Manfred’s chin.

“Hello Manfred. Did you have a good day?”

“Mraaaaow!” The feline responded brightly, rubbing his cheeks against Emmrich’s hand.

Emmrich beamed and straightened, his knees cracking audibly. 

“Now let’s see what you’ve gotten into today, shall we?” He pocketed the headphones which were still in his other hand and flipped on the lights, thoroughly wiping his shoes on the mat before embarking down the hallway, Manfred trailing eagerly behind him, tail stuck straight up in the air, chattering merrily. 

It didn’t take him long to find today’s target: a phone charging cable bitten cleanly in two, one half still plugged into the electrical outlet. Holding the severed portion of the cable, Emmrich regarded Manfred: his fur was indeed looking a little staticky, standing unusually upright and lending him a slightly demented look.

Emmrich was generally good at remembering to store unattended electrical cables away from Manfred, but he must have forgotten this one in his rush to leave that morning.

“You only have so many lives, you know, and this is far from the first time you’ve chewed through a live cable.”

“Mrrraow,” Manfred agreed, licking his lips and sitting on the floor in front of Emmrich, looking eminently pleased with himself.

Emmrich sighed and pulled the other end of the cable from the brick and disposed of the two pieces in the kitchen garbage, turning on more lights as he moved around the main floor of his home. 

“I suppose you’d like to watch your stories, hm?” 

Chirping affirmatively, Manfred leapt up onto the brown leather sectional in the living room and settled into the well-formed indentation where he usually sat. 

Emmrich didn’t watch television: he found it an unproductive and uninspiring use of what little spare time he had. The sprawling, 70 inch, 4k UHD TV he had purchased solely for watching movies, as he considered himself to be somewhat of a cinephile, but tuning mindlessly into endless news segments and banal reality tv was boring. 

Manfred, however, loved television - specifically 90s sitcoms. He wasn’t sure why - perhaps it was the canned laugh track - but Emmrich had unwittingly discovered years earlier that letting Manfred watch his shows was a reliable way to keep him occupied and distracted from his seemingly never-ending compulsion to kill himself via misadventure. He did set limits though: only an hour of television per day. It wasn’t good for people to watch too much television, so it only made sense in his mind that too much time in front of a screen wasn’t healthy for cats either. 

He queued up an episode of Seinfeld for Manfred and scratched under his Italian leather collar before setting down the remote and returning to the kitchen. 

He shrugged off his suit jacket and fished his phone out of the pocket, glancing at the screen to see if Rook had responded while he was seeing to Manfred - she hadn’t - and setting it on the counter alongside the headphones before washing his hands and trying to decide what he’d have for dinner. 

While he waited for the frying pan to heat up and the pot of tomato soup he’d settled on to warm, he opened a bottle of wine and poured himself a glass - he wasn’t on call tonight, so he’d allow himself this rare indulgence. Something to calm his nerves was welcome anyway - he kept eyeing his phone, waiting for the screen to light up. It wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong by texting Rook, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had somehow gotten himself into trouble. 

When the pan was hot, he dropped his cheese sandwich into it and picked up his glass, swirling the wine inside of it and resuming his vigil of staring at his phone. 

It was 7:34 now. 

Rook was constantly attached to that phone of hers even though Derek and management were borderline militant in enforcing their ‘no personal cell phones allowed’ policy during work hours - she and every other staff member under thirty-five had mastered the slick and nonchalant trick of palming their device and slipping it into the inside left pocket of their suit jacket with alarming elegance at a moment’s notice: they would be the envy of any street magician with such sleight of hand.

Knowing this, it struck Emmrich as unlikely that she hadn’t at least seen his message yet. What was taking her so long to respond? It was simple, wasn’t it? Just a plain, ‘Thank you for letting me know’ would suffice, surely? 

He turned from the island back to the stove, flipped the cheese sandwich in the pan, and stirred the pot of soup. He had just set down the spoon on the spoon rest in the middle of the stove when he heard the ‘bzzzt-bzzzt’ of his phone vibrating against the granite countertop. 

Snatching it up, he unlocked the screen and braced himself for Rook’s disgusted response. 

Jaw clenching, he allowed his eyes to focus on the words in front of him. 

‘At first I thought this was a really pathetic excuse to text me, but my headphones are actually missing and unless you managed to pickpocket me while you were driving, you must be telling the truth.’

Three dots popped up underneath the message, indicating she was typing something else. Then they went away. 

Then they came back. 

‘Thanks Emmrich.’

He stared at the pair of messages, reading them over and over, genuinely taken aback at the lack of vitriol in her words. Snarky, yes. Snide, certainly. But a far cry from the outright revulsion he had anticipated. 

Perhaps she was finally warming up to him: they’d worked together for four months now, it only seemed natural that they build some semblance of rapport over time, regardless of her misplaced assertions that he was some sort of deviant. 

Could it be that she was finally beginning to realize that he wasn’t panting after her like the weirdo she assumed he was, staring at her ass whenever she walked in front of him, and wondering what the tattoos that peeked out from under the cuffs of her shirt looked like? He’d never had such thoughts. Never once had he wondered how much of her skin they covered; whether they ran all the way up her pale arms and resolved at her shoulders, or if they curved across her collarbones, dipping down past the swell of her breasts, and–

The sound of the smoke alarm punctured his unintentional reverie, deflating it instantly as the bitter smell of burnt toast filled his nose and he slammed his phone down on the counter to deal with the urgent matter of his burning grilled cheese sandwich. 

Manfred appeared around the corner of the island and meowed loudly, making his displeasure at this interruption of his ritual television hour inescapably clear.

Emmrich looked down at the blackened sandwich in the pan, then to Manfred, who was licking his lips hopefully.

“No, you may not have the sandwich,” he said sternly and dumped the ruined grilled cheese in the garbage. He made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and turned off the element the tomato soup was on. 

He reset the smoke alarm and paced over to the back door beyond the breakfast nook, wine in hand, pausing to grab the pack of cigarettes and the lighter he kept in the console table next to the patio door before stepping out into the cold and lighting up. 

Rook Ingellvar was going to be his undoing at this rate. 

He’d managed to salvage the remainder of the evening and resume his normal routine: he’d had his soup and just a plain cheese sandwich, poured another glass of wine, fed Manfred, had a long hot shower, and climbed into bed to settle in and read until he was ready to fall asleep. 

Manfred was curled up on the bed at his feet, purring loudly - it wouldn’t last long. He would be up again in a few minutes to persistently smash his face against the edges of Emmrich’s book as he tried to read it, attempting to bully him into putting the book down in favour of petting him, which was clearly more important. Emmrich would eventually capitulate and do exactly that.

The antique analog alarm clock on his nightstand indicated that it was going on eleven o’clock, and Emmrich had just closed his book for the night and reached over to turn off the lamp when his phone lit up on the charging stand next to it, vibrating insistently to alert him to the incoming call. 

Emmrich frowned: he was certain he wasn’t on call tonight - Lindsey Finch’s name had been listed as the overnight on call funeral director on the service schedule that day, and he certainly wasn’t expecting any calls from anyone… not at this hour.

He picked the phone up from the charger and frowned harder at the number on the call display: it wasn’t a number he’d saved in his contacts, so there was no name. It looked familiar, though, like he’d seen it recently…

His stomach twisted on itself. It couldn’t be. No. Why would she?

“...Hello?”

Loud, distorted music crashed through the earpiece of the phone. The bass was clear, but everything else was a muffled cacophony that he couldn’t make out. He could hear Rook’s voice, but couldn’t discern what she was saying: she was talking loudly - practically shouting. Then there was a male voice, equally unclear. Fabric shifted against the mic, making a harsh scratching noise that had Emmrich holding the phone a few inches away from his face. 

“Hello?” He repeated, but received no response: she must have pocket-dialed him accidentally. 

She was at a bar with live music by the sound of it. He heard her voice again. Managed to catch the words, “kinda hot” before the exceptionally loud band drowned out what she said next. 

But he heard her laugh then, and it rather caught him off guard how different it was from her usual facetious, dry tone. 

It was light and free and joyful. 

He ended the call then, feeling ashamed: like he’d just intruded on something private that he was not welcome to. Judging by the brief snatches of conversation he’d overheard, she was clearly on a date, and if she’d known that he’d been eavesdropping - even accidentally - there was no doubt in his mind that he’d never hear the end of it. 

Setting the phone back on the charger, he folded his glasses and set them down before he turned out the light and rolled onto his side, facing away from the nightstand so he wouldn’t be able to see the screen if it lit up again. 

Lonely thoughts were no stranger to Emmrich in the silent hours of the night, but tonight for some reason, they felt heavier than ever. 

Manfred woke him up a few hours later when he managed to find a way around the locking child-proofing tabs Emmrich had installed on his dresser, and began systematically pulling articles of clothing out from the top drawer, dropping them on the floor whilst having a loud conversation with himself. 

“Manfred…” Emmrich grumbled sleepily, slipping out from under the covers and crossing the room, plucking the cat from the top of the dresser and ignoring his protests, setting him gently on the ground. “You’re far too clever for your own good.” He re-affixed the tab as best he could and stooped to stroke Manfred’s soft back before plodding back to bed. “Please let me sleep,” he entreated groggily, feeling Manfred’s weight join him on the mattress.

What time was it anyway? He could tell it was still dark beyond the blackout blinds over his window, but that meant little at this time of year. 

His antique alarm clock wasn’t backlit, so he fumbled around in the dark until he felt the base of his charging stand. Following it upwards, he tapped his phone and squinted as his pupils adjusted to the sudden light. 

3:40… ugh… 

He had to be up in less than an hour anyway. 

Resolving to get at least a bit more sleep, he was about to collapse back onto the mattress when something on the illuminated screen caught his eye. 

A notification. 

He pulled the phone from the stand and propped himself up on one elbow, finding his glasses with his other hand and shoving them onto his face. 

It was a message from the same number that had called him earlier - Rook’s number. 

3:34 AM read the timestamp - only a few minutes ago.

Blinking a few times and feeling suddenly much more awake, Emmrich keyed in his passcode and opened the message. 

It was a picture of Rook - a selfie, he supposed - and she appeared to be home - or in someone’s home - judging by the fact that she was obviously in a bed, her long black hair cascading over a red pillowcase as she cheesed up at the camera. Her crimson lips were contorted in a picture perfect snarl that showed off her straight white teeth and she was holding up her fingers in a peace sign. She was clearly drunk: her gray eyes were glassy and unfocused, and her heavy black eyeliner was somewhat smudged. 

‘thx again for looking after my headphones♥️’

Why was she texting him at this hour? 

And why did she send him a picture of herself?

And why did she feel the need to thank him again?

He stared at the heart punctuating the message, turning question after question over in his mind as his own heart decided to behave like he was halfway through running a marathon. 

His eyes were drawn to the lower half of the photo, and he couldn’t help but notice that the thin black tank top she was wearing was certainly more revealing than her uniform, confirming that her tattoos most definitely did not end at her shoulders.

He swallowed, his tongue feeling three sizes too big for his mouth. 

She’d only just sent him this. There was a good chance she was still awake…

Dare he? 

‘You’re welcome. E.’

He hit send.

The three dots heralding an incoming message popped up almost immediately, followed by Rook’s reply. 

‘holy shit y r u even awake rn?’

He let out a short huff of laughter at this, gently pushing Manfred away, as he had finally been drawn by the light of Emmrich’s phone. 

‘I could ask you the same question.’

‘because i just got home and need to eat something lol’

‘I see. I’d better leave you to it then.’

‘u didn’t answer my question: y r u awake?’

Emmrich glanced down at the purring ball of fur next to him that was trying desperately to nudge the phone out of his hands. 

‘My cat woke me up.’

‘lmao u have a cat?! u don’t really seem like a pet person tbh’

‘He more or less adopted me, as it turns out.’

‘crazy’

The dots popped up again, then vanished. 

‘anyway - i need to go to bed. c u in a few hours i guess lol’

‘Goodnight, Rook.’

He stared at his phone for a few more minutes, but no more messages appeared. 

He scrolled back up to the picture she’d sent him. Despite the fact that she was clearly potted, she looked so… unbothered. There was an easy joy about her that she didn’t have during the day while she was working. Perhaps the date had gone well. 

But… she mentioned that she was at home, so perhaps it hadn’t.

He didn’t know why, but he found himself hoping for the latter outcome.

His eyes drifted back to the shape of her plump, pert breasts, pressed together slightly due to the angle and position of her arms. 

“That’s enough of that,” he chided himself, darkening the screen and forcing himself to set the phone down. 

Deciding that he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep, he got out of bed instead and started his morning early: he had breakfast, fed Manfred, and did his morning workout, trying to find stability in the comfort of his predictable routine. 

As he stood under the nearly scalding water cascading from the showerhead above him, he took himself in hand and stroked - slowly, languidly at first, but before long he was jerking off in earnest, leaning into the dark granite tile of the wall as he breathed heavily, soft moans nearly drowned out by the rush of the water falling around him. 

He couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t get the image of those perfect breasts from his mind. The shape of them. The way they looked pressed together in that picture. The crisp black lines of the mirrored serpents and roses that spread from the front of her shoulders down towards the neckline of that skimpy top. He was filled with the treacherous desire to trace the lines of those tattoos with his fingers… his tongue…

A strangled cry pulled from his lips, and he came hard, his seed spilling forth, one steady pulse after another. It fell to the floor, and dripped down his hand into the drain below. 

Guilt slammed into him before he even finished cumming, ashamed of himself as he watched the last of his release vanish with the water.

It had been quite some time since he’d had a romantic partner, but he worked with this young woman… taught one of the courses she was enrolled in at the university. They were colleagues - professionals - and here he was, fantasizing about her body while he jacked off like the pervert she so frequently accused him of being… proving that she was right all along.

And worst of all, he was going to have to look her in the eyes later that morning and pretend that he hadn’t brought himself to orgasm hours earlier while thinking about her. 

“You’ve really done it now, Volkarin…” he sighed, raking his fingers through his wet hair and shutting off the water. 

It was very rare for Emmrich to have a cigarette before he went to work. 

He had one that morning. 

[thuganomxcs]

━━   ❝   𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲.   ❞  He said with a gin on his face after feeling those gentle lips of hers pecking his cheek. “It’s alright if you do wear heels..now. Ya had t’ know you weren’t gonna stay taller than me forever.” He said proudly as he set the table, everything organized and ready for them. “Oh that’s right, I gotta start the tea..or are you thinkin’ of coffee or yourself today?”

He then heard that he’d need clothes for three days. Oh that’s so easy. “That means I’d need One T-shirt t’ wear in the hotel, then a jacket, pants, and another shirt for our outing at dinner..a little somethin’ elegant and then just casual stuff for the cage match. Though..new boxers wouldn’t be bad..I mean I can still breathe but if we’re replacin’ everythin’ might as well go all the way.”

Then she spoke about MEASURING HIM. “Don’t know what the new penis size has gotta do with clothes but I mean if ya wanna measure it I’d say go for it.” He’d most likely love to come out and say he was teasing her, but this was simply one of those moments where his mind didn’t work as well as it should have. Though at the very least he wasn’t nervous about it any longer with her.

All in all the breakfast had been a successful one, they had their fill, Yusuke probably too much as he had stolen some of her portions with his chopsticks. Even goading her into kissing him if she’d wanted the food back. “H’alright time t’ see what I can find. I do know I have some stretchy stuff.” Said Yusuke returning into their room. Then came out all dressed. 

A simple T-shirt and long pants. “These were always a little big for me..and now they’re just right. Who’d thought I’d have an entire closet t’ get rid of now..so many clothes tossed away...Oh wait, I can't leave yet..I haven't seen my boys and my girls." Of course referring towards both dogs, hens, rooster..and even that troublemaker Moka, so he left for the backdoor and was immediately greeted by the two larger dogs. Yusuke had changed in appearance..however, they KNOW HIM, the bond was far deeper than simple physical recognition and of course, Yusuke pets them in return. "There's my boys, See that Tai? Now I'm tall enough so people won't think I'm YOUR BITCH when I take you for walks. And no I didn't forget about you Shin. Did ya see the other troublemaker?"

AS SOON AS SHE OPENED THE DOOR, Botan could smell Yusuke cooking. It's something she's really come to like about living with Yusuke, the house always smells so nice, so warm and inviting, a reminder that when she comes home someone is waiting for her with a home cooked meal.

The table is set and ready when she comes in, having slipped her shoes off at the door. Botan walks toward Yusuke and startles a little upon first glance. Right... he's taller. "This is going to take some getting used to," she said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "or I'm going to have to start wearing heels all the time."

Botan takes a seat at the table and once Yusuke is with her, she starts eating. "If we don't have time to pack after going shopping, we can come back after lunch. The stay is for two nights, so we don't have to come home right after the show ends. You'll need clothes for three days," she glances over to him, pursing her lips. "...Maybe we should measure you before we go." She's curious to know exactly how much bigger he's gotten.

When she finishes eating, Botan stands up and passed Yusuke on her way into the kitchen. "I'll clean up, go see if you can find something to wear and we'll go out," she instructs.

[dishearteningmediocrity]

June 25th, 1937

Eighty-seven years ago, on June 25th, 1937, Colin Clive died in Los Angeles, California. This was a column that appeared in the Monday, June 28th edition of the Hollywood Citizen News, written by Edwin Martin--columnist, press agent, and acquaintance of Colin's. If I remember correctly, Gregory Mank quoted excerpts from this in his biography, but the article is worth reading in full. There's a poignant tribute underneath all the name-dropping.

Yeah, I know, not enough misery in the world these days, so it's time to dredge up more from the depths of the past. Still, it's an interesting glimpse into his life and death--and some of the people left behind.

Source: Hollywood Citizen News, Monday, June 28, 1937. Accessed via www.newspapers.com.

Transcript below.

CINEMANIA by Edwin Martin

JOURNEY'S END

"Think of all the chaps who've gone already. It can't be very lonely there--with all those fellows. Sometimes I think it's lonelier here."

Night after night we had heard him deliver those lines, and they never failed to touch us.

On this day they came back to us again--more poignantly than ever.

A few of us had gathered for a round-table at our favorite spot in Travaglini's--it was also his favorite corner that we occupied.

Just a few weeks before we had sat at this same table with him and planned a radio interview.

Soon after, when he went to the hospital, came a note in this manner: "Must have this old pump repaired a bit. Sorry we'll have to postpone our interview until I come out. Keep the corner warm at Travaglini's."

We had known him for many years--known him and admired him since they first brought him from England to star in the picture version of the same play he had made famous on the stage.

Later, when the play was revived by E.E. Clive, we enjoyed a most pleasant association while handling the publicity on the show during its run here at the Hollywood Playhouse.

During this time we got a little closer to this quiet, rather lonely man, who made famous the role of the hard-drinking Captain Stanhope in the stage and screen productions of "Journey's End."

Few knew it, but all during the past few months, even when he made such a hit in his outstanding part in "History is Made at Night," he had been carrying on under the constant shadow of a long illness--an illness which was gradually eating his heart out...but he never complained.

Sometimes there was a faraway look in his eyes as he talked--just that--nothing more--he was Captain Stanhope to the end.

A few of us were keeping the corner warm for him at Travaglini's that day when we heard Colin Clive had reached his journey's end.

WALTER BYRON, another fine young British actor, was studying his lines at the bar for the splendid part he plays with Sarah Padden in "Chilikoot Lou," with which Miss Padden soon returns to the vaudeville stage.

Eric Blore, inimitable English comedian, still in make-up, was also there...and Larry Kent, Hollywood's wandering actor, just back from directing and acting in England, was telling about a picture he wanted to make in the South Seas...Eddie Lee, known as England's "Donald Novis," was resting from his triumphant opening at the Century Club...and we were listening to the gentle elder Mr. Travaglini tell about stirring days when as a young man he was an officer in the Italian army...while Tony Travaglini, Jr., looked over a radio script planned as a welcome home to Harry Langdon.

Into this crowd of men came a saddened figure--a lovely woman who had been a friend of Colin. She was the last member of that gay trio who often occupied this same table together...from which another splendid young British actor, John Buckler, had left one night only to meet his journey’s end in Malibou Lake in a tragic auto accident.

She was the last one left—and she dragged her weary self up to the bar and ordered a double brandy.

Everyone wanted to ask about his condition, but Larry Kent was the only one who had the courage… “How is he?” he asked.

“He is going,” the woman said. “When I left he was already in the oxygen tent. They wouldn’t let me see him,” she said, trying desperately not to break down.

Because she knew that even a friend of Captain Stanhope must face unknown adventures with head held high.

A phone rang—it was for her—she answered it. Somehow the ominous tone of that ringing let us know the message. “He’s gone.”

Silently the glasses were filled…then Eric Blore lifted his glass. “I give you Colin Clive,” he said simply, and a toast was taken in his memory…and eventually each man filed out and went his separate way.

Somehow we believed that Colin Clive would have liked to know that his journey’s end had been accepted with such a gesture…as he went to that last rendezvous with his old friend, John Buckler...and as we walked out into the sunshine we remembered that we had other things to do--other things to write--but the only words we could think of were his gallant words from "Journey's End."

"Think of all the chaps who've gone already. It can't be very lonely there--with all those fellows. Sometimes I think it's lonelier here"....we are keeping the corner warm for you--Adios, Colin Clive.

[jomeimei421]

Felt a bit nostalgic watching RT shut down…Here are the og faves again for old times sake 💙

[alagaisia]

Hey if you’re still enjoying and engaging with Harry Potter in any capacity you can unfollow me 😊 please and thank you

Like. I get it. I was super into it as a kid too. I did not have the social context to pick up on the antisemitism or transphobia or sexism or fatphobia or bioessentialism or racism or anything else. I also picked up on surface-level language of Fighting Back Against Evil and ascribed my own values onto what that meant and thought we were all on the same page. I remember when the original kids who grew up with the books started becoming adult fans and picking up on the (blatant!) antisemitism and everybody was still mostly willing to give JKR the benefit of the doubt on it. (“She was writing kids books!” They said. “She didn’t know she was penning a global phenomenon! She picked a common literary trend in European fairy tales (antisemitic caricature) and didn’t examine it closely. It’s a mistake anyone could make,” we said. “She would probably do things differently now. After all, she word-of-god confirmed the vaguest hints she dropped that Dumbledore might be gay,” we said.) There was actually a span of several years where biases inherent in the actual real content of the Harry Potter series were coming to light and even the people pointing them out still seemed mostly to think it was an unfortunate accident.

That time has passed. Years ago! We are long past the first months of “maybe she doesn’t realize this seemingly-feminist tweet she liked was made by a noted TERF” and then “how could she not realize that these many veiled TERF-y things she’s retweeted have implications for the many queer fans of her work” and finally “oh wow okay JKR just dropped an entire transphobic manifesto on twitter. I guess the transphobia was the point.”

Yeah, there were a few months after that where people were still processing and still working through how they felt about Harry Potter and all of its flaws with the context of the now open transphobia of the creator. I was there for that. Remember how I was one of the kids who built it up into something noble and worthwhile based on my own beliefs about what messages it was probably trying to convey? Turns out it wasn’t trying to say any of those things, and when you take the time to examine all of the terrible shit that made its way into the text whether JKR intended it to be there or not, the whole series falls apart. It’s weird to discover that there’s a room in your house that’s rotten to the core, but eventually you figure out you can’t live like that, still going in there and holding your nose and pretending it’s still the same room you thought it was when the termites were only inside of the walls and hadn’t yet started chewing their way through the furniture. Because what’s going to happen is that they are going to infest the rest of your house. If you decide you can ignore transphobia and antisemitism and everything else just because you liked the color of the wallpaper, the rest of your principles are going to crumble too. You get rid of that fucking room. You put those books on a high shelf in the back of your closet behind other outgrown clothes and interests and you move the fuck on.

JKR uses the money made from her transphobic antisemitic children’s books to actively funding hate groups and to lobby for legislation that will and has actually affected the actual lives of trans people in an entire country. We are past the point of grieving something you were wrong about in childhood. Kids are wrong about a lot of stuff. You grow up and you learn new information and you change your behaviors based on it. You have to choose. It is transphobic to pretend there is not transphobia where there is. It is transphobic to support the work of someone who is using those funds to take rights from trans people with every fucking dollar. It is hateful to continue to engage positively with a story that at its very core is rooted in hate and bigotry and prejudice. You can choose to do all of those things but you cannot claim ignorance of them and you cannot choose those things and still pretend that choosing them upholds the values we convinced ourselves that Harry Potter stood for over a decade ago as uninformed children. You cannot choose to do those things and pretend to still support your trans and queer and Jewish neighbors. I do not want you in my neighborhood. Leave.

[pepprs]

ok actually yeah. i really need to do dishes and go to bed and not stay up late mentalillnessposting a little too viscerally on tumblr the night before i facilitate a workshop in front of the literal president of the university and the vp of my division (LOL about that btw. actively shitting my pants.) but oh my GOD. so saying goodbye to lia was actually fine in the moment. neither of us cried and we talked about all the ways we’ll still be in each others lives and reasons we’ll have to interact in the near future. and she gave me an extremely heartfelt thoughtful gift and we left on a very hopeful note and i felt better and content bc there’s still the rest-of-life and we’ll see each other there. but like an hour before that as i mentioned i was HYSTERICALLY sobbing. in full view of people i know AND people i don’t. and i just sat there and sobbed while everything carried on around me. everything carried on around me!!! and i feel like im about to sob again thinking about it.

[savage-rhi]

I'm very much a, "fuck yeah and fuck you, I don't need validation! I'm me, cunts!" kinda fella, but sometimes I could use support.

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[teenagefeeling]

on the topic of female-dominated fields, i have actually noticed what i think is a trend of younger men going into library science. and i looked it up on wikipedia and they cited an ala study from 2014 that already showed that. now, it's not a huge change, there's still like 4 times as many female librarians as there are male ones. but i have personally noticed more young men in both the public libraries i visit and in my mslis classes and i think statistics may reflect that as well. what that means for librarianship, i have no idea. i think it's generally a good thing to see a more diverse range of young people entering the field. it'll just be interesting to see if public perception of librarianship changes over time in relation to it.

[the-physicality]

"tomorrow we find out where paige is going" .... .tomorrow we find out which team has a 99% chance of drafting paige