#english cricket news

[manisha999]

#संतरामपालजी_का_अयोध्याभंडारा

श्रीराम जन्मभूमि अयोध्या में संत रामपाल जी महाराज के पावन सानिध्य में सतलोक आश्रम द्वारा अलौकिक भंडारे का आयोजन किया जा रहा है।‌।

[magnus-cricket]

Why Magnus Cricket Store is the Ultimate Destination for Cricket Enthusiasts

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[rosiegames]

apex after midnight is hell … actual hell…

[morningmantra]

Cricket: New rule in cricket.. When will it be implemented?

A new rule will come into force in cricket from tomorrow. ICC will introduce a new rule called 'Stop Clock'.

A new rule will come into force in cricket from tomorrow. ICC will introduce a new rule called ‘Stop Clock’. A new rule will come into force in Cricket from tomorrow. ICC will introduce a new rule called ‘Stop Clock’. This rule requires the bowling team to be ready to bowl the first ball of their next over within 60 seconds of the completion of the previous over. Otherwise, slow over warning…

[cricketsportz]

Cricket Addictor offers cricket news headlines, cricket score, upcoming and ongoing cricket series and many more. Visit our website for Asia Cup 2023 & ICC World Cup 2023 schedule now.

[floofiestboy]

Aoyama's Let's Talk Day 2025 Translation [Unofficial Sources]

EDIT: [2025-02-01]

The official transcript has been released. Please refer to my translation of it here instead.

Yesterday was Aoyama’s yearly Let’s Talk Day, a day when a lucky few audience members chosen by lottery have the chance to ask him questions. While the Q&A hasn’t yet been officially released, I’ve translated tweets about the questions asked. I can’t guarantee that they’re 100% trustworthy, but generally most questions were posted by multiple unrelated users.

In cases where different users reported slightly different answers for the same question, I consolidated them to the best of my ability. All source tweets at the end. Without further ado: 

Q. When Gin travels to other countries, does he stay at hotels, or does he have safe houses? I want to know whether he uses hotel-provided amenities like bathrobes.  

A. He sleeps in his car or stays at Organization-provided lodging- the Organization has apartments all over the place. He does also stay at hotels. The FBI still hasn’t discovered them. He does wear bathrobes! He has long hair so I imagine it’s tough to wash.

Q. What sports does the England-born Akai play aside from Jeet Kune Do?

A. He learnt Jeet Kune Do from his father, so has no interest in sports other than that. But I think he might be good at cricket since he’s English. Maybe baseball in America.

Q. Does Hiro have any experience with martial arts?

A. He learnt some at the police academy. He has no other experience, but he’s decently strong- weaker than Kyogoku though.

Q. As you were a guest on Kōhaku Uta Gassen [T/N: A music show that traditionally airs around New Year’s in Japan] this year, do you have plans to write a case based around it?

A. I doubt NHK would let me (haha) I did think a music show case might be fun, but they’d probably still bother me about it.

[Questioner: What if you changed the name? Like, a West vs. East tournament.]

I’ll think about it.

Q. Will the Kuroba family and Kudo family meet each other in the future?

A. Is that something you want to see? I’ll think about it.

Q. What will Momiji do now that Heiji and Kazuha are dating?

A. I don’t think Momiji will give up? She’ll do her best.

Q. How can you think up so many different characters?

A. I don’t know (haha) Maybe because I’ve seen lots of different manga, dramas, and movies. 

[Questioner: So they just pop up in your mind.]

Something like that.

Q. Do you plan to write a story where Chihaya and Furuya meet?

A. Ah, so Chihayafuru, you mean (haha) It sounds interesting, so I’ll think about it.

Q. What can you tell us about this year’s movie at this point?

A. When I told Rikiya Koyama [T/N: Mouri’s VA] that Kogoro is the main character this year, he told me he was nervous. Once he was done, Takayama-san [T/N: Conan’s VA] told him he sounded cool. 

Q. What’s the best part of this year’s movie?

A. I can’t say, but I think you’ll be shocked.

Q. What’s your favourite case so far?

A. Ran GIRL & Shinichi BOY. I love it.

Q. How did Kogoro manage to become a detective without deductive abilities?

A. He doesn’t have deductive abilities, but he’s good at shooting and judo. And he has Conan around. Everything works out.

Q. Was Nakamori Aoko born in September?

A. When is good?

[Questioner: Since Kaito was born on the 21st, maybe the 12th?]

 I’ll think about it. I haven’t decided, but since Kaito’s birthday is June 21st (6/21), maybe September 12th (9/12) makes sense.

Q. What kind of things does Ran talk about with her karate club friends?

A. What would you like?

[Questioner: Romance talk!]

I do think they chat about that. Everyone would be interested to hear about how things are going with Shinichi. If a scene like that ever comes to mind, I’ll think about including it.

Q. What is Furuya’s family situation like?

A. Secret, as I haven’t decided for certain just yet- it might still change.

Q. Will you ever draw the moment Kazuha fell for Heiji?

A. Do you want to see it? I might.

Q. At Abeno Harukas, Heiji confessed and was holding hands with Kazuha, but did Heiji initiate the hand-holding?

A. Yes. I don’t know if I’ll ever draw that though.

Q. At Kōhaku Uta Gassen, were there any artists you enjoyed other than aiko, B’Z, and Fukuyama-san?

A. Ah, I can’t think of anyone but them. But they were all good. B’z was amazing. It was all dark in the audience seating, but when I thought “oh, something is moving,” it was truly amazing by the end. B’z is my choice! (haha)

Q. Do you have any plans for a spinoff featuring Hattori?

A. Like Zero’s Tea Time?

[Questioner: More like Hanzawa-san.]

What’s the difference between Zero’s Tea Time and Hanzawa-san? Did you want a spinoff? There’s no plans for one right now.

Q. Are there any characters you plan to have romantic developments for in the near future?

A. Kansuke and Yui, and Juugo and Chihaya… aside from that [glances at the moderator] that character… if I say who it is, we’ll get flamed online, so… (haha) 

[The audience goes abuzz]

Well, yes. I can’t tell you right now (haha). Let’s leave it at that.

Q. What’s the plan for next year’s movie?

A. I can’t say, but they do already have it planned.

Q. Who will be the star of next year’s movie?

A. I can’t say, but it’s already been decided as well as the stage.

Q. I’m from Hokkaido. Do you have plans to draw any famous tourist spots in Sapporo? 

A. Hakodate was recently the stage, so it would need to be some time in the future. Any recommendations?

[Questioner: Suzukake Park, Oodori Park, Sapporo TV Tower.]

Ah, got it, I’ll think about it.

Q. We know that Azusa has worked at Poirot for at least one year, but how long has she worked there in total?

A. I don’t know. Maybe since she was in high school. Oops, I just said whatever.

Q. Any plans for a movie set in Tottori?

A. Not at this time. I’ll think about it. I did try to incorporate the Tottori dialect once, but I was told it was incomprehensible. Tottori dialect is pretty hard. If we do a movie here, I’d like it to use Tottori dialect.

Q. It seems Momiji won’t give up even now that Heiji and Kazuha have gotten together, but will Iori continue to serve Momiji in the same way? Will he ever leave due to his old work?

A. He’ll be by her side forever. I think he’ll protect her until the day he dies.

Q. What would you want to eat at a Conan café? 

A. Naporitan spaghetti. I have childish tastebuds, so I also like Hamburg steak and hamburgers.

Q. I like aiko, so I want to hear the behind-the-scenes details about your talk with her on Kōhaku Uta Gassen.

A. During our preparatory meeting, I asked whether I should say “Funya!”, but I was told I couldn’t (because it’s from a different agency.) [T/N: Not familiar with this myself, but maybe it’s some idol’s catchphrase or a reference to a show.]

[Questioner: After meeting aiko, did any murder case ideas come to mind?]

No (haha) It would be sad to kill her off. Maybe a case with a singer involved… I’ll think about it. Aiko was cute.

Q. Kurayoshi’s phone number area code is an important plot point in Conan, but will the city be involved in the future?

A. A coincidence. Kurayoshi residents will get mad at me otherwise.

Q. What did you do for New Year’s as a child?

A. Usually my family would ask me to visit a shrine with them, but I’d stay at home since it was too much of a pain. These days, I always go for my health. [T/N: In Japan, it’s tradition to visit a shrine on the first day of the new year.]

Q. What’s Inspector Ayanokouji’s personal life like? What are his hobbies?

A. He feeds Maro-chan. Hobbies… I wonder. He does like Maro-chan. What would you like?

[Questioner: Something like archery.]

Archery? Well, I’ll think about it.

Q. Do you have any plans for a triple date with Heiji-Kazuha, Shinichi-Ran, and Kyougoku-Sonoko?

A. I hadn’t thought of that before, but I’ll think about it.

[Questioner: So you don’t plan to think about it.]

Sorry (haha). 

Q. Any information on Akai and Amuro’s chat nine hours later?

A. I can’t say. It’s a truly mysterious tea party (haha)

Q. In your Professional interview, you were eating curry, but is there any other food or snacks you like to eat while working?

A. I only really eat cheap stuff, so (haha)  I’m really into the beef don mini-pack from Yoshinoya- it’s a pretty small portion. It’s healthy and good. Also, curry from Coco.

Q. The Saitama prefecture is right next to Tokyo, but has never made an appearance. Any plans for Saitama prefecture police to appear?

A. Yokomizo did show up in Saitama at first, but he did move to Shizuoka, so (haha) I tried to have him go back, but I was told that then it just seemed like he never moved at all. I’ll write about Saitama eventually. I’ll think about it.

Q. What does Kazuha like aside from aikido? 

A. She likes Heiji… (haha) I think she likes cooking just like others like her would. Do you have any thoughts on what she might like?

[Questioner: What…]

[Moderator: Well, that’s what they wanted to know in the first place.]

I’ll think about it.

Q. I’m from Taiwan. Conan has only ever gone to England in the manga. Will he ever go to another country in the manga, not the movies?

A. It would be tough while he’s still Conan, as he doesn’t have a passport. His only choice is for Kid to stuff him into a suitcase, but I can’t use the same trick twice (haha) I’d like to go to Taiwan one day.

Q. Akai and Amuro infiltrated the Organization and know about Sherry, but don’t know of the existence of APTX4869?

A. They do not. There’s a reason why the details of her research and her family isn’t well-known in the Organization, but that’s secret. Even parents wouldn’t tell their children about it in the Organization. 

Q. Do you plan to introduce any new Organization operatives?

A. What would you like?

[Questioner: Amaretto!]

I'll think about it.

Q. Do you plan to draw Shinichi and KID facing off?

A. Shinichi. You mean big Shinichi, huh? I’d love to. (haha)

Q. What last name do you like, or would like to have?

A. Kudo! (haha) Since Kudo Yuusaku as portrayed by Matsuda Yuusaku was cool. If I can, I’d love to become one! (haha)

Q. Did you decide that Heiji would confess on a tall Osaka building even before the Abeno Harukas tower was completed? [T/N: It opened in 2014]

A. I decided after the Abeno Harukas tower was completed. But I did know from the start that Kazuha’s mother would make an appearance to include a twist.I wanted everyone to think that he’d confess to her mother by mistake. 

Q. Who’s stronger between Kogoro and Ran?

A. That’s quite the question (haha) Kogoro is strong! But, Ran is catastrophically strong too (haha). I think it’s hard to say? But if they fought against each other, he’d probably hold back against Ran. Since he’s her dad.

Q. You can really feel the cultural differences between Kyushu and Tokyo. Do you plan to write a case based on that?

A. I’d like to.

Q. Do you have any special tidbits for us aside from what you’ve already told us?

A. Kansuke and Yui and Koumei’s childhood will appear in the movie. Take a good look at the illustration I drew for the Conan Tanteisha store as well. 

Q. Anything you’d want to incorporate into Tottori’s Mystery Tour? Tourist spots and restaurants you’d recommend?

A. I’d like them to make use of Tottori’s Odaiba, crabs, and apple-pears.

Q. Who’s the tallest among all your characters?

A. Date and Gin! Kyougoku is a little shorter, but those three are the tallest. Kazami is too tall in the anime. He should be the same height as Furuya. [T/N: One source also claimed he said that Gin is taller than Date.]

Q. Will Miyano Shiho and Kudo Shinichi ever star in the same case?

A. Ah, I can’t tell you that. Whoops, I almost let something slip (haha)

Sources

https://twitter.com/hrksdc/status/1875104017174639079

https://twitter.com/brainwashednerd/status/1875109428812460351

https://twitter.com/yuki_det_con/status/1875121186411348179

https://twitter.com/Flambe4869/status/1875236194071834928

https://twitter.com/nyarura73/status/1875104933978206521

https://twitter.com/mskAK25/status/1875125288943989101

https://twitter.com/furu_rei0/status/1875126654412177457

https://twitter.com/44_mcs/status/1875132311219634602

https://twitter.com/44_mcs/status/1875119113670144425

[thegreatyin]

THEY CAN BRING IT GIFTS AND EVERYTHING... the scoundrel is never leaving this railway station. they live here now. they are literally eating the wallpaper in pure unadulterated excitement. sorry caeru you'll have to find a new roommate (the old one is going nuts over a spacebat it likes)

there's an option at st8tion to summon mr wines at will??????????? the scoundrel LOVES this place actually

[ithebookhoarder]

Hiiiiiii, Could i request an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader fic where Anthony married reader who is from a lower class (basically like Theo) and they end up having a fight because reader did something that would be considered out of class or simply wrong while she’s trying to learn to be a viscountess. Sorry if it didn’t make any sense English isn’t my first language 😭😭😭

All's Fair in Love and Cricket (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)

Synopsis: After getting into a fight with your new husband you decide to settle your differences in a 'sporting' fashion, whilst reminding Anthony once and for all just who he married.

A/N: Ohhhhh boy did I enjoy this one. I'm sorry if it feels a little rushed or clunky in places, I may make some more edits at some point. I struggled with the flow of writing so much action but I loved it too much not to post it. So yeah, anxiety be damned else this would join the rest of the unposted drafts I have stashed away. I hope you enjoy it. 💕

Warnings: Anthony being a stupid idiot, class references (discrimination), reference to illness 

Masterlist

It was late summer and as the sun beat down on the green lawns of St James’ Palace the lords and ladies below began to wilt. Many a woman held her parasol above her head in a desperate attempt to remain cool, which was hard when you wore petticoats and had nothing to do but sit and watch the men play cricket for hours on end.

Even Her Majesty looked like she was struggling to make it through the afternoon's entertainment, her attendants desperately fanning her where she sat under her canopy. They looked close to melting in their ornate gowns, however they were clearly willing to endure if it allowed them to continue admiring the game - and more importantly, those playing it. It was like waving a bone in a dog’s face as they watched all the eligible young men of the court sprinting about the green, their physique and athletic talents on clear display.

No wonder the Queen had her opera glasses with her, despite her proximity to the field. 

You almost felt bad for them, watching as the men were subjected to the same treatment as the young ladies were night after night at social functions… hence the 'almost'. After all, there was a sense of satisfaction watching them preen and dance about like show ponies on display. That, and the view wasn’t exactly a terrible one when your husband was one of those playing. 

You’d have endured sitting on that blasted green a thousand times over, baking in the afternoon sun and surrounded by swooning women, just to watch Anthony Bridgerton as he captained his team. 

Being one of Anthony’s oldest and dearest friends, his competitive nature was well known to you (for which you had one too many games of Pall Mall at Aubrey Hall to thank), but it seemed to be out in full force today. You’d simply lost track of how many times he had dashed back and forth, working up somewhat of a sweat as he barked orders at his teammates in a desperate bid to ensure victory. It was no surprise to you that he had subsequently been forced to remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves, exposing his rather sculpted arms to those watching.  

As you said, there were worse ways to spend an afternoon - and normally, you’d have been smugly lapping it up, however, today you were unable to truly enjoy yourself. Not when all you wanted to do was march over to him, take that cricket bat and give him a good whack or two. Maybe that would knock some sense back into idiot… 

That was the issue with being in love with your dearest friend: those who knew you best also knew the best ways to hurt you, and Anthony’s behaviour at dinner the following evening had proven just how true a statement that was. 

It had all started after the entire family had been summoned to the townhouse for a dinner, to toast you and what had so far been a successful first Season as Viscountess Bridgerton. At first, everything had appeared normal, with the usual laughter, merriment, and ease that one would typically experience at a Bridgerton gathering. It was what had first endeared the family to you, back when you had been but a small child, living at Aubrey Hall as the only daughter of their Stable Master. 

They had never been anything other than kind to you, inviting you to play with their children, and join them in their daily lessons. They had also bought you gifts on your birthdays, invited you to join them at events, and even paid for the finest doctors when your father had fallen unwell several years ago. It was as if, to the Bridgertons, your family was their family - an attitude that they extended to the all members of the staff that kept their ancestral seat running. It didn’t matter if you were Head House Keeper, or the greenest of scullery maids. Everyone was counted and cherished, and the Bridgertons had earned utmost loyalty in return. 

The rigid rules and divisions of high society didn’t appear to exist within the wisteria covered walls, and it had been that way well into your young adult life. In fact, it had been you that had initially rejected Anthony when he first declared his love for you one day, after taking you along with him on one of your many afternoon rides. 

You’d been the one to remind him who he was and that society expected him to marry someone they deemed worthy of him and his title - and that wasn’t you. You didn’t have a penny to your name beyond the small sum you’d saved from helping with the younger Bridgerton children as a governess. You didn’t have a title or an estate or anything to bring to a marriage. 

“Except the most important thing!” Anthony had pleaded. “Love… I love you, and there is no one else for me in this life except you. Life is short, terrifyingly short. Look at my mother and father… to be without the person you love most in the world is an agony and I cannot bear it. Please. I can’t lose you. I will not spend my life without you, knowing love is within both of our reach but that we were too afraid to grasp it? If I cannot spend my life, no matter how long it may be, with you then I will have no-one. No-one. My brothers can have the title. I don’t want it. I only want you.”

He’d continued to insist that for the following 6 months, even after his family had moved to their London house for the Season. It didn’t matter how many beautiful, eligible, wealthy heiresses he was introduced to. He would entertain none of them. He would have none of them. Only you. 

It’s what he’d continued to insist until you’d eventually accepted, realising that he was right; Love was the most important thing and you both deserved to have it in your lives, come what may. 

So, you’d said yes. 

You’d become engaged and gradually made your way out into society as the new Viscountess Bridgerton, armed with the support and guidance of the Bridgertons. 

Which brought you to last night and the dinner that had been organised to mark the end of the most challenging, but rewarding, Season of your life - and the dinner had started so wonderfully. Yet, somehow it had all gone to hell in a hand basket in the mere blink of an eye thanks the well meaning, but ill timed, teasing of Colin and Benedict.

Your brothers-in-law had both decided to raise a toast to your first Season as an ‘official’ member of the family and they'd got off to a rather complimentary start, if you were being honest. However, they had somehow moved from their praise on to reminiscing about the many years and many adventures you had had since joining their family.

Whereas every anecdote had caused the rest of the family to spiral into more laughter, your husband had looked more and more infuriated. In fact, Anthony had warned them not too kindly to ‘sit down’ and ‘shut up’ about your childish behaviours, which of course had only encouraged them further. 

“Oh, hush, brother,” Benedict had quipped, raising a glass to your successful debut. “She knows we mean it all in good fun. After all, she once had a phase where she refused to wear shoes and would walk barefoot around the estate, traipsing mud everywhere! I think we’re allowed to be surprised by how far our dear darling Y/N has come.”

“It’s true - It’s a miracle,” Colin added, wiping the tears of laughter from his cheeks. “The transformation is remarkable. Who knew she would go from feral ragamuffin to lofty Lady Bridgerton.” 

Anthony’s only response had been to tighten his grip on his glass to the point it looked like it would shatter. 

Whether it was the residual stress of your busy social calendar, or something else entirely you had no idea. All you did know was that Anthony was angry, and even your gentle touch would not soothe him. 

In a desperate attempt to calm him, you’d pulled Anthony out onto the terrace shortly after dessert had been cleared and asked what was happening. Much to your surprise, he had turned on you, venting about how childish his brothers were and how embarrassing it was that they were discussing things unbefitting someone who was a Viscountess. 

“They’re just joking, my love. They were doing it to get a rise out of you.”

“Well, it wasn’t funny,” he’d growled, causing you to bristle. “They’re so immature. They need to grow up and realise we’re not children any more. That… that you’re my wife and joint head of this family.”

“So? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t, Anthony,” you snapped, the warning clear in your tone. “What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing, I just - it - they’re… it’s embarrassing.” 

“So, you’re embarrassed? By what? Your family? Or me? Because everything they said tonight is true. I did do those things, as did you. I may not have been born a noble lady but you knew that when you asked me to marry you. So don’t suddenly act like you're ashamed, that you are somehow better than your family - than me.”

Somehow the argument had only spiralled from there, with both of you saying things you didn’t mean, and with both of you storming off and slamming the doors behind you. 

Even now, sat on the edge of the cricket pitch, the thought made your blood boil. How dare he? How dare he act ashamed of you and the wondrous memories of your youth together? It wasn’t as if you hadn’t grown and matured since then. You had done everything within your power to be worthy of him and his family, and yet all it took was one mention of the girl you had once been to make him upset?

As if sensing your silent fury, Eloise had been glued to your side since the moment you'd left the house. Her company had been a blessing, with her numerous whispered remarks and jokes, making the day almost bearable. One remark in particular from Eloise had caused you to burst out laughing in a most undignified fashion after watching Anthony trip over one of the opposite team - the Duke of Hastings of all people. 

You still weren’t quite sure how they had been positioned on opposite teams, but you were sure there was some kind of wicked divine intervention responsible. Who else would think it a good idea to put two competitive men against one another? Your hosts, perhaps? After all, Lady Danbury and Her Majesty had organised the game and you had learned long ago not to underestimate the women - especially when they decided to conspire together. 

“How long is this delightful game again?” Eloise’s polite remark oozed with sarcasm as she leant back against the tree behind her. 

It was obvious she was bored senseless. In fact, you half suspected she would have already left had her mother not been sat on the opposite side of the green, watching her like a hawk. 

“I’m not sure,” you groaned in reply. “I lost count of who was winning about an hour ago.”

“So, we’re to be trapped here for eternity?”

“Pretty much, considering this part will not end until either Simon or Anthony lose, and we both know that neither one of them will concede defeat easily.”

Eloise rolled her eyes. “And I thought they were bad at Pall Mall-”

“-LOOK OUT!”

The cry interrupted both of you as you turned in surprise. Given the so-far sedimentary tone of the day, neither of you had expected such excitement as numerous Lords and Ladies began to hurl themselves out of the way as a stray cricket ball rocketed through the air, towards the crowd. 

“Good god!”

The exclamation seemed apt as both you and Eloise ducked, watching as the ball sailed past, causing several yelps and groans from the people around you. You were pretty sure you also spied a glass of lemonade flying through the air in all the chaos. However, your attention was drawn to the figure charging towards you to retrieve the offending item as it rolled to a stop. 

Anthony.

“Pardon me, Y/N,” he murmured, reaching down to collect the ball that now lay a small distance from your feet. You nodded in greeting, aware of the many eyes watching but you elected not to say anything, not trusting yourself not to make some snide remark.

As it was, you both had barely said more than a handful of words to each other since your argument last night.

Clearly sensing the lingering tension between you, Anthony quickly turned to address his sister instead. “Eloise.”

“Ah, brother," Eloise cheered. "Splendid play so far. Tell me, when did the object of the game become the decapitation of the ton? I would have attended far more cricket matches had I known that was the aim of the game.” 

“You can blame Simon for that one,” he replied, his taunt hidden beneath his neutral smile. “Still, good dodging back there. I thought he might have nearly caught you both.”

“Almost.”

“But alas he missed, like most of your players today,” you quipped, enjoying the way Anthony seemed to redden at the reminder of his team’s less than stellar performance. “Still, good effort. You’ve almost caught up with Her Majesty’s team. I believe that’s better than last year.”

“Well, that might have had something to do with the fact that she does have Simon,” Anthony grumbled. 

It was true, no one could out-run Simon - even if Anthony always gave it a damn good try: hence why the Queen often had him captain her team when he was in London for the season. Besides, the head of the other team was usually Lord Duval, due to his position as the Queen’s chief administrator. However, it seemed his brains and financial strength were all he had, due to the fact his social skills, and athleticism were sorely lacking. 

“Touché, and who is up next?” Eloise asked. 

“I don't actually know. The other team seem to be taking remarkably long to sort themselves out.”

Just then, almost as if on cue, three men began to hurry towards them.

A quick glance revealed that one of the gentlemen who was approaching was Colin Bridgeton, and the other the Duke of Hastings; that much you knew. The third was rather unfamiliar to you, however, you were pretty certain he’d been playing on Simon’s team. Regardless of his identity, neither he nor any of the other gentlemen now stood in front of you looked very pleased. Rather, they looked as if they had all sucked on a lemon, their frowns were so deep.

“Sorry to interrupt ladies, but I must reclaim Lord Bridgerton here for a moment. It appears Anthony will be needed to bowl again,” Simon sighed by way of explanation.

“What on earth for?”

Colin was the first to answer. “Lord Dingby is unable to bowl on account of the heat, and the Baron will not play.” His skepticism was clear as he shot the so called Baron a disapproving look. “He ’twisted his ankle’ or so he claims, thus we are down a bowler and the other team is down a player.”

You all rolled your eyes.

“So then, who will bat?” questioned Eloise curiously. “If Anthony is bowling you still require one more man to take their place on the other team?”

Wasn’t that the question of the hour. However, no one appeared to have an answer, and by the disapproving glare steadily growing on the Queen’s face, they didn’t have long to come up with one. 

“Maybe Lord Stevens?” suggested the third man hastily, staring around at the crowd. 

“No. He injured himself riding the other week,” Simon replied. “And unfortunately our hosts only saw fit to invite enough male guests as were playing. We aren’t exactly spoilt for choice regarding possible options.”

It was true. There didn’t seem to be any visible answer in sight given that those most suited to the game were already positioned on the field. 

“What about female guests though?” 

Your question hung in the air for a moment, causing everyone around you to turn in surprise. 

“Excuse me?” Anthony looked at you suspiciously as you began to rise from your seat. He was well versed enough to know when mischief was afoot. A fact that was proven right a moment later as you held your hand out towards a shocked - and excited - Colin.

He was only too happy to oblige your silent request as he placed the bat in your grip. It was rapidly becoming the most exciting event of the season and lord knows he wasn’t about to spoil the fun - especially if he got to rub salt into Anthony’s wounds at the same time. 

After all, given his display the previous evening, it was time you truly gave him something to feel embarrassed about. Losing.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Perfectly,” you smiled. “You’ve seen me when we’ve played Pall Mall. I have a decent enough swing. Besides, you said yourselves you need an extra player and there isn’t exactly anyone suited left - not anyone male, anyway.” 

“Anthony?” 

To his credit, your husband was also smiling, even if you could see the sudden tension forming behind his perfect smile. “I see no problem with it. I’m sure our hosts would prefer the game finished rather than called off because we ran out of players.” 

“Agreed. Well, it’s settled then.” Simon cheered, clapping a hand on Anthony’s shoulder as they looked back towards the field. “It seems she will be taking his go.” 

Then they noticed the rain cloud of a man next to them.

"She can’t play!” protested the third man. Everyone looked at him in silent disbelief. “This is a gentleman’s game. A Lady can not play."

“Her Majesty seems to have no objections,” Eloise commented smugly, glancing across the field. Indeed, it was true Her Majesty seemed to have no objections to the turn of events, choosing instead to exchange a wad of pound notes with the man beside her. If anything she looked exhilarated by the prospect. "Besides, I doubt a feeble female such as ourselves will pose any threat to your team, your Lordship.” 

“Well… I… Bridgerton, I still don’t think-” 

Thankfully, Anthony was all too busy gazing at you to take any notice of the pompous oaf’s objections. 

It was a look you were more than familiar with, the unspoken desire and encouragement obvious in the way his gaze softened. It was the same look he always gave you when you’d done something amazing (and most things were amazing in his eyes). It didn't matter if it was taming a particularly unruly horse, solving a maths problem that left the rest of them scratching their heads, or daring to step onto the dance floor at your first ball, knowing not another soul in that room other than him.  

It was a look that made you feel invincible. That you could do anything and everything you put your mind to as long as you had Anthony cheering you on from the sidelines... you were a team. Always.

"Anthony?" you asked, the challenge obvious - but also your sincerity. If he truly did not want you to play then you'd have marched back to your chair and sat right back down.

You'd meant it before. You loved your husband and wanted nothing more than to be the best partner you could be. Your hurt from last night had stemmed from the fear that, for a moment, that wasn't enough for him anymore.

Fortunately, it appeared you were wrong. Your husband wasn't embarrassed by you. If anything, he looked ready to kiss the ground you walked on as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, "If you can get four runs, I will personally pay you 5 pounds."

"You have a deal," you laughed. "As it is, women and ladies alike play cricket up and down the country. It’s high time we had a chance to show you boys up."

The other man began to protest again. "My Lady, my La-" 

He never got very far. You simply stopped, turning and handing him your parasol and shawl.

"Thank you," you cheered marching away.

He paused, taken aback. It didn’t help that Eloise was only too eager to firmly pull him back into your now vacant seat with a glare that could have melted ice. 

All around applause broke out as the players resumed their positions on the field. It took a moment or two for them to prepare for play but now everyone seemed to be watching intently. 

Oh well, if you were to dare to play at all then you may as well dare to achieve something from it, you mused, gripping the bat handle and aligning yourself with the wicket. Victory seemed a rather good start, especially given the fact you had no idea what Lady Whistledown would make of this turn of affairs. You’d already had a shocking enough entrance into the world of the Ton, what was one more daring display?

"Go easy, Lord Bridgerton," the referee cautioned from the side of the green. 

Anthony nodded obediently at the crowd’s titters. You could see the restraint he was demonstrating, choosing not to hurl the ball at you the way he would had you both been in the privacy of your home. Instead, it took all his will power to grip the cricket ball and resume his position on the field. 

Unfortunately, you never knew when best to desist from poking proverbial bears. That, and Anthony was too easy a target. 

"Yes, do go easy on me," you jibed. Everyone who knew you could hear the sarcasm buried in your voice as you took the bat and fluttered your eyelashes at him. "I’m only a delicate woman, but I must endeavour to ensure her Majesty’s team at least has an opportunity to best you, Lord Bridgerton. You’re only losing by what? A few wickets?" 

Oh. You were in for it now. 

Anthony’s grin was devious as he stepped back a few paces, weighing the ball in his hand till finally he charged at you, swinging his arm over in the perfect bowl. 

It was then you brought up your bat to send the ball back in a high arc. 

There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone followed the ball with their eyes. It was as if they couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to hit it. However, the shock quickly wore off as everyone remembered the point of hitting the ball in the first place. 

"GO!" came a yell from the crowd as excitement began to spread. 

So, you did.

Hitching your skirts in one hand, you began to sprint towards the other set of wickets, grinning as your partner passed you along the way. 

Of course, you would have liked to protest that you could have indeed run faster had you not been encumbered by your stays and petticoats. Your slippers were also rather terrible for any movement. What you wouldn’t have given for a pair of trousers right then. 

"Come on!" came another yell - it seemed as if everyone was forgetting their dignity in all the excitement as you tore back and forth across the grass in a mad blur. 

Had it been anyone but you, it would have been a terribly scandalous moment. Yet, your name - and the status of your betrothed - meant this was all merely seen as sport. Besides, from the way Her Majesty was whooping from her perch by the trees, it was clear where her loyalties lay.

"Come on Y/N!"

"Anthony! Run!"

"Over here!"

"Come on!"

The cries blurred into one as you finally turned at what you planned on being your final run, only to spot Anthony as he came sprinting back towards you… and the wicket.

"Oh no, you don’t," you laughed, charging onwards in a final burst of energy. 

You could hardly catch your breath as the world slowed around you. 

All that remained was you, Anthony, and the closing distance between you. 

You could see his desperation laced with delight as he watched you stagger towards the wicket… just as the ball he’d thrown hit it.

"IN!" 

The referee’s declaration initiated an eruption of noise as all around the green, men and women celebrated the spectacle they’d just witnessed, and the victory you had now ensured.  Within seconds you were swarmed, mobbed by well wishers and triumphant team mates. There were so many hugs and snatched ‘well done’s that you were quite at a loss what to do other than stand there and accept it. Thankfully, Anthony seemed to have read your mind and was at your side as soon as he was able to fight through the jubilant throng. 

The moment he reach you he took your hand in his. His expression was a mixture of awe and contrition, clearly unsure what to say to you.

"Good game," he praised. "Simon better watch out - I think Her Majesty will be asking you to captain her team next year."

"What a tremendous idea, Lord Bridgerton. I may just do that."

As if summoned by the very mention of her, a voice rang out clearly from behind you. Without even turning you knew exactly who was standing behind you, as the throng suddenly fell silent around you and parted like the Red Sea. In all the excitement you had failed to notice the Royal party making their way across the field to join in the celebrations. 

With a gulp, you turned and dropped into the most respectful curtsey you could manage without falling flat on your face. "Y - your Majesty."

The Queen chuckled. "I must thank you, Lady Bridgerton, for providing such excitement to our proceedings today. I also must thank you for the twenty pounds I just procured off of Brimbsley - that’ll teach him to bet against me."

You merely dipped your head in gratitude, unsure whether this was actually happening or not. After all, the closest the you’d ever been to monarch was your hasty presentation several months ago and that had barely earned you more than a curious glance, like you had been some exotic animal on parade at the Zoo. And now, the Queen was addressing you? A lowly Stable Master’s daughter? 

It was enough to make you feel as if this was all some kind of surreal dream. 

"Anyone who bets against your Majesty deserves to be relieved of their coin."

"True, True," she preened, gesturing for you and everyone else to rise. "I gather you have played this game before?"

"Growing up around the Bridgertons ensured I had little alternative," you confirmed, relieved when the Queen proceeded to chuckle good-naturedly. 

"I dare say you didn’t, my dear. Well, it certainly makes for a rather entertaining afternoon, as well as a victorious one. Perhaps we aught to have women playing more often." She turned her head and chose to direct her next words directly to your husband. "You’ve chosen quite the bride, Lord Bridgerton - you are to be congratulated on choosing such a spirited partner. I hope you realise how lucky you are."

"Indeed, your Majesty," Anthony replied, the earnestness clear in his eyes. "I’ve realised just how truly unique and remarkable she is… and how lucky I am that she chose to be on my team, even if not on the cricket pitch."

Another round of laughter echoed out at his declaration but you knew it was more than just a jest. In fact, by the all-too-clear pride radiating off of the eldest Bridgerton you knew what he truly meant with his honeyed praise.  

It was all the apology you could need and had you not been in such company you’d have dragged him into the bushes and shown him just how much you forgave him. Besides, your victory on the Cricket pitch was enough pay-back for both of you. 

As if sensing the amorous tension steadily rising around her, the Queen chose that moment to make a well-timed departure, in search of a refreshment. She barely gave you all a final nod before marching off to greet the rest of her guests, leaving you stood there with a rather gobsmacked expression on your face. 

"Well… that really happened," you murmured, struggling to maintain your newfound confidence now that the whole saga had come to an end. "Did I actually just do that? Did the Queen actually just … talk to me?"

"She really did," Anthony confirmed, hands grazing yours nervously, as if unsure whether or not you’d accept his touch. However, your hands accepted his readily, fingers intertwining as you squeezed his palm in an obvious attempt to ground yourself. "You truly were incredible today - I know you don’t need to hear it but, for what it’s worth, I am proud of you." 

"Thank you."

"And I truly am sorry for being such a world class fool, last night," he continued swiftly, clearly keen to make his apology whilst you were willing to receive it. "I didn’t mean to make you feel as if I was embarrassed by you. I never could be. It couldn’t be further from the truth. I was vexed with my brothers and because of several other trivial matters, but I allowed my temper to get the better of me and I handled it poorly. I lashed out at the wrong person - the one person who deserves nothing less than to be told how incredible she is, every single day. I am unworthy of you, Y/N. I know no one else in the entire world so awe inspiring and to let you think otherwise for even a moment was my failing entirely. You are brave and smart and funny and kind and beautiful-"

"Ok, Anthony. I get it."

"-and I am unworthy of someone with such skill on the cricket pitch-"

"Anthony," you squealed, trying to hide your laughter as he pulled you into his arms and smothered your face in kisses. "It’s fine. I forgive you. After all, I also lost my temper and said some things I didn’t mean. Can we just agree we’re both sorry and put this mess behind us?"

"Yes! God yes," he sighed, looking like a weight had visibly lifted from his shoulder. "Because I really do not like fighting with you. Instead, I think we should be enjoying your victory parade. Today is your triumph, after all - the Queen’s champion." 

"Hmmm, I rather like that title," you purred, gazing up at him. "But between us? I prefer being your wife, much much more."

[byjove]

John Watson is so English he cannot be catholic or Europe will be thrown into another century long war

Shocking news. I’m not sure John Watson is English. Actually, I did not think of him as an Englishman in the same way I think of that being a part of Holmes. He’s not English. To me. Watson graduated from the University of Edinburgh. His army regiment was Northumberland, which is the northernmost county of England, bordering Scotland. This indicates Watson has spent a significant amount of time in Scotland, perhaps Scottish born and raised? If not, definitely a Northumbrian northern gal which is also amusing.

He is a self-incert for the author. That is something that cannot be disputed.

To understand Watson’s faith and nationality you must understand, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself was not English. Which is an incredible shocker because he had so much patriotism for England and he considered himself sooooo English. A Scottish born Englishman, he called himself. This man brought back Sherlock Holmes at the wishes of Queen Victoria. He played cricket. He was the Englishman.

WRONG! He was SCOTTISH by birth. And he spoke with a THICK Scottish accent his entire life. We have recordings of his voice and he NEVER STOPPED SOUNDING SCOTTISH. Born into an IRISH CATHOLIC family in Edinburgh Scotland, ACD lived in Edinburgh until he went to school at the age of 10 in 1868. He attended Catholic schools in England and then a Jesuit school in Austria. He came back to attend The University of Edinburgh in 1876. Then he was an army doctor, like Watson.

ACD’s slowly gave up on Catholicism as his life went on but he was, by all accounts, a dedicated Catholic as a young man. Mr. Englishman himself, born in Scotland, an Irish Catholic by culture. I can only assume, due to textual evidence and because Watson is Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Watson is a Scottish born Irish Catholic too.

(Side note, Watson is Irish in the new Russian Sherlock Holmes series from 2013. This isn’t really expanded upon but he just is. And I respect that.)

[psi-spectacular]

Miss Mitternacht, God of the Harvest.

Miss Mitternacht, once an unassuming English teacher, Was the last god to ascend before Capochin. Deep in her endless night, the chirping of crickets and trill of cicadas bring music to her work tilling the long grasses of her realm. She enjoys a simpler life, creating new poems and reciting old ones as she cuts with her scythe. Though, in recent years, things have begun to slip her mind... Offerings stopped, people didn't visit, and years of absent-minded cutting would pass without her noticing. Was this normal, for a god?

Suddenly, rumors reached her gears. They said she was a god of death, of plague, one who would only be pleased with sacrifice. That wasn't true! It couldn't be, right..? But... she's been gone so long, been deep in her work for such a long time, she could barely recall the things the townspeople used to offer.

Oh, dear...

Finally locking in and trying to do more godswap au stuff! Planning on Click Clack next!

Bonus stuff under the cut

[uncharismatic-fauna]

The Wonderful Wall Gecko

Hemidactylus frenatus is a gecko of many names. It is refered to in southeast Asia by the various interpretations of its call; in Malay it is the chichak gecko, in Tagalog it is the butiki, and in Thai it's the jing-jok, just to name a few. In English it's also known as the common house gecko, Asian house gecko. The species is native to south and southeast Asia, from India to Papua New Guinea, and has also been introduced to Australia, Africa, and the Americas. They can be found in a range of habitats including tropical forests, savannas, and urban environments.

Most common house geckos are 7.5-15 cm (2.9-5.9 in) long and weigh between 10-20 g (0.3-0.7 oz), but their appearance can vary widely. Individuals can be grey, tan, or beige; some exhibit mottling that closely resembles tree bark, while others are unmarked. The species can generally be distinguished from other geckos by the whorl of spines at the base of the tail, although dropped tails don't have this feature.

The chickak gecko typically hides during the day and emerges at night to hunt. They feed primarily on insects and spiders, but will also consume smaller lizards opportunistically. Both sexes are highly territorial, and will aggressively defend their areas from other geckos. The distinctive call of H. frenatus is often used to announce its territory to other geckos, as well as signalling readiness for mating. Due to their small size, Asian house geckos are frequently prey to cats, birds, snakes, rats, dogs, large spiders, praying mantids and larger lizards.

Wall geckos can reproduce year-round in warmer climates, and in more seasonal areas of its distribution they mate only in the warm months. Males seek out females and entice her by touching her with his snout, followed by biting and holding her neck. Females typically lay clutches of 2 eggs, though she may have up to 4 eggs at different stages of development at any given time. The eggs are laid in a crevice or covered area, and hatch after 46 to 62 days. Hatchlings are totally independent, and reach maturity at 6 to 12 months old. Individuals can live up to 7 years in the wild.

Conservation status: The IUCN has rated the butiki gecko as Least Concern, due to its large and widespread population and commonality in urban spaces. It is considered an invasive and ecologically damaging species in areas where it has been introduced.

Photos

Thai National Parks

Nicole Andrews

Cricket Raspet

[manisha999]

#सत_भक्ति_संदेश

मानव जीवन दुर्लभ है,

इसे नादान संतो, महंतो व आचार्यों तथा

पंथो के पीछे लग कर नष्ट नहीं करना

चाहिए। पूर्ण संत की खोज करके आत्म

कल्याण करवाना ही श्रेयकर है।

#पवित्रहिन्दूशास्त्रVSहिन्दू

♦️देखें "साधना" चैनल शाम 7:30 बजे।

[magnus-cricket]

Cricket Bat Customization: How Professional Players Tailor Their Bats

Cricket is a game of precision, and professional players rely on customized bats to match their unique playing styles. Unlike off-the-shelf cricket bats, custom-made bats allow players to optimize weight, balance, handle grip, and sweet spot placement to enhance their performance. This blog explores the key aspects of cricket bat customization and how professionals fine-tune their equipment to…

[advisorykitty]

Hi, sorry to bother you, but I couldn’t find anything saying you weren’t accepting requests 😅, and I wanted to know if you could write another story of Nyen x reader with a golden retriever (or if you prefer, you can change the anime/breed). How did they meet? Or how was the reader "adopted"? Like, one day Luther saw the reader around and decided to take her home, and then show their reaction to seeing the reader and how they adapted to the presence of a dog.

(Sorry for the inconvenience! If you aren’t accepting requests or don’t like it, you can just ignore it ;w;", and ignore my English, it’s not my first language)

It's okay and yes my asks are open! (I should probably specify in bio ^_^) Anyway I hope you enjoy this!.

• ○ . ☆ . ° •╭──────┄°❀°┄──────╮ • ° . ☆ . ○ •

Luther strolled through the woods, his hair softly swaying in the evening breeze as he scanned the quiet trees around him. He often came out here for the sake of clearing his mind,and to have a nice little walk but something was different.

He breathed in the coolness, his senses heightened to every sound, and through the rustling of leaves and crickets' chirping, he heard it: excited panting and the unmistakable sound of footsteps crashing through the underbrush.

Before Luther could even react, a blur of gold and white (change this if you want)bolted from the bushes, right into him. Stumbling back, Luther regained composure in a heartbeat, blinking down at the overexcited creature before him.

"Hi! Hi! Oh my gosh, are you okay?" it said, in this high-pitched voice full of unfiltered joy. It was a person, it turned out-wearing a make-do hoodie with floppy dog ears stitched in, their tail-a real one(or not)wagging furiously behind them. Their hair was gold in the fading light, and big expressive eyes were locked on Luther like he was some sort of long-lost friend. (Change this if its too oc for you but its golden retriever reader soo!)

Luther blinked, eyes taking in the scene with humor. "Oh, mein Gott," he muttered, lips tugging up in a smile. "And who might you be?"

The golden retriever-like person straightened immediately, his tail wagging even more furiously if possible. "I'm. uh, well, I don't really have a name, but I think 'Pup' works! I'm just out here running, and wow, you smell interesting!" They leaned in, snuffling at Luther curiously before stepping back with a wide grin. "Oh! And I found you! Hi!" (Pup isn't an oc I just thought saying Y/N would be wierd)

Luther chuckled, a liquid warmth ebbing into him as his eyes danced lightly on the stranger, pure radiance of joy. Rarely did he meet one so. open. About this spirit, something just absolutely piqued his interest; he could not help but feel some strange connection forming between the two.

"Hey, Pup, would you like to come home with me?" he said in an even, playful tone. "I have a warm spot, food. and a couple of friends that would just love to meet you."

The face of the golden retriever person lit up, eyes wide with excitement. "Oh my gosh! Really? You'd take me home?! I've been out here for so long, and I really love new friends!" They bounced on the balls of their feet, their tail wagging so hard it was a wonder they didn't take off like a helicopter.

Luther's smile widened. "Ja, come. I think you'll fit right in."

---

Back at the House

Luther opened the door and let Pup bolt in, past him, in sheer excitement. Glow-eyed, they stared at the vast space. "Whoa! This place is huge!" they exclaimed, spinning around and gazing at every little detail-the elegant furniture, the long hallways, the quirky yet homely atmosphere of the house. Wrinkling their nose, they sniffed the air, very pleased with this all.

Nyon was the first to notice the new arrival. The Russian catman had been sitting quietly in the living room, reading one of his favorite Dostoevsky novels. At the sound of the unfamiliar voice, his ears perked up, and his eyes peeked over the edge of the book. His usually calm, sleepy expression turned into one of mild confusion as he watched Pup bounce around the room, sniffing everything in sight.

"Wha. this?" Nyon mumbled in his terrible English, looking around to Luther for an explanation.

"Ah, Nyon, this is our new friend here," Luther said as he laid a hand on Pup's shoulder as they examined the cushions of the couch. "I found them in the woods and decided to bring them home. Isn't that right, mein kleiner Hund?"

Pup nodded enthusiastically, their tail wagging once more as they grinned up at Nyon. "Hi! I'm Pup! Whoa, you look awesome! Is it alright if I sit with you?"

Nyon blinked, utterly at a loss as to how to process the quantity of joy coming off this weird, dog-like individual. "Uh. Ok?" he replied awkwardly, scooting over on the couch to allow room.

Pup immediately flopped down next to Nyon, his head coming to rest on the other's shoulder in such a way that tensed up the catman's shoulders immediately. They snuggled closer, wagging their tail as they smiled upwards at him. "You smell nice! Like books and. is that pickled vegetables?"

Nyon's face turned a slight shade of pink, as he was not used to such displays of affection, and he buried his face into his book, hiding it from view. "Da. I like pickles," he stuttered, plainly flummoxed by this over-affectionate new housemate.

While this had been going on, Nyen had been watching from the sidelines, his keen eyes furrowed as he tried to figure out the reason behind the house suddenly smelling like a wet dog. He entered into the living room, and his irritation multiplied when he saw Pup practically draped over Nyon.

"What in the hell is that?" Nyen snarled, crossing his arms as his tail lashed behind him. He looked at Pup like they were the most annoying thing to ever exist.

Pup's ears perked up as they looked over at Nyen; their eyes sparkled with joy. "Hi! You must be Nyen! Luther told me about you! Wow, you're even cooler in person!" They leapt off the couch and ran over to him, eyes wide with admiration.

Nyen pulled back, his tail going taut as Pup leaned in far too close for comfort. "Back off, mutt," he hissed, taking a step backward. "I don't like clingy things."

Pup's head cocked to one side, and he looked for one instant totally perplexed. Then his face brightened in a dazzling smile. "Oh, you're playing hard to get, huh? I get it! We're going to be best friends in no time!" He reached out and tried to hug him, but Nyen swatted their hand away with a look of pure irritation.

"Stop touching me!" Nyen snapped, low and dangerous. "And get out of my space!

Pup didn't seem to faze one whit. If anything, they only seemed to grow more resolute. "You're funny! I like you already!" they said once more as they wagged their tail and tried to scooch closer.

Nyen let out a low growl, his claws flexing as he glared at Luther. "Sir, why did you bring them. Here?"

Luther just shrugged, that amused smile still firmly in place. "I found them, and I like them. They're staying."

Pup just about glowed at the words, eyes shining with adoration as he bounded over to Luther. "Luther, you're the best! I promise I'll be a good pet!"

Luther chuckled, ruffling his head. "Ja, ja, I know you will."

---

Later That Evening

Having overcome the disastrous first day, Pup had promptly made themselves at home. They had latched onto both Nyon and Nyen, though Nyen was quite displeased by this fact. The catman found himself continuously avoiding Pup's attempts to cuddle or play, while Nyon simply tolerated it with quiet patience.(Sebastian and Randal are having their own fun)

But far and away, Pup's favorite was Luther. Every time he walks in a room, that tail would start to wag so hard it is a miracle they didn't knock something over. They trailed after him around the house, his faithful shadow, helping with whatever needed to be done, even when they had absolutely no clue what they were doing.

And despite the chaos Pup brought along in their wake, Luther could not help but be taken in by their unrelenting energy and affection. It was not often that he let people get this close to him, but something about Pup made it feel. right.

As for Nyon and Nyen, well, they were still getting used to their new housemate. Time would take them to be able to accept Pup fully, but one thing was for sure: life in this house just got ten times more chaotic.

The twitch of Pup's nose told something else when an unfamiliar smell entered, somewhat like the mix between Nyen and Nyon.Curiosity was piqued, and Pup's tail had started to wag in slow motion as they followed the trail down the hall until they came upon one that was slightly ajar.

Pup peered inside. The room was simple, nothing too fancy, but what immediately caught their eye was the top bunk bed: huge, draped in dark sheets, with a small stack of pillows-looking both cozy and intimidating at once.

Pup's eyes gleamed brightly. "Gosh, that bed looks comfortable!" they whispered to themself. And without further ado, they trotted inside, bouncing onto the bed. They rolled around and their tail wagged as they nuzzled into the pillows.

"Ahhh, so soft!" Pup muttered and snuggled into the center, pulling one of the pillows closer to them. In minutes, they were already dozing off, relaxed and content in the bed that was totally foreign to them.

---

Nyon, meanwhile, was making his way back toward the room. His feet padded softly on the cool floor of the hall as he hummed some old Russian song or other.

As he came closer to the room, he noticed the door was a little open. In an instant, he became guarded. He never left the door open. Slowly, Nyon opened the door more widely, his cat-like eyes scanning the room. His gaze ended on the bed, or rather, the lump in the middle of it.

"What is this?" He muttered, blurring in confusion.

There lay Pup, spread eagled in the middle of Nyen's bed. They were snoring softly, their tail draped lazily over the edge of the bed, twitching as they slept. Nyon stared for a second, unsure whether to be alarmed or amused.

"Pup?" he whispered, inching closer. He reached out and gently shook their shoulder. "You in wrong bed."

Pup stirred, blinking their eyes open sleepily. When they saw Nyon, their face lit up in a drowsy grin. "Nyon! This bed is amazing! You guys have the best room!"

Nyon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Nyens bed. not yours. You need. to move before Nyen comes.*"

But Pup only stretched, rolling over and pulling a blanket over themselves. "Nah, it's fine. He won't mind! We're friends, right?" They gave him a sleepy smile before nuzzling themselves back into the pillows, clearly having no intention of moving.

Nyon frowned, his ears flicking nervously as he glanced at the door. "Not sure. about that."

But before Nyon had managed to coax Pup into moving, a low growl emanated from the hallway. His ears flattened as he turned his head toward the sound, and there, standing in the doorway, was Nyen. His eyes were narrowed dangerously, his arms crossed over his chest, and his tail lashed behind him like a whip.

"What. Are. You. Doing. In. My. Bed?" Nyen's voice was low, rumble of a growl, every word spoken with barely contained rage.

Pup, still blissfully oblivious to the danger they were in, sat up a little, grinning. "Oh, hey Nyen! Your bed is awesome! So comfy. Wanna join?"

Nyen's left eye twitched. His claws flexed at his sides as he stepped into the room, the air growing colder with his presence. "Get. Out. Of. My. Bed."

Pup, utterly missing the warning signs, burst out laughing. "Aww, c'mon! We can share! There's loads of room!"

Nyen's patience snapped. "OUT!

He snarled and launched himself forward; finally cluing in this wasn't a game, Pup yelped and scrambled out of the bed. "Okay, okay! Jeez, you don't have to yell!" They jumped up, barely avoiding Nyen's grasp as they ran toward the door, still grinning while running.

"This is fun!" Pup called back, his tail wagging even faster as he bolted down the hall, Nyen hot on his heels.

Nyon watched the chaos unfold from the safe inside the room. "Idiot." he muttered shaking his head as he turned to close the door behind them. "They not know what they got into."

Pup ran down the hallways, their laughter echoing as they glanced over their shoulder at Nyen, who chased them with murder in his eyes. For them, it was just another fun game of tag; for Nyen, it wasn't even close to that. His claws were out, and he wasn't holding back.

Pup rounded a corner and skidded on the turn, running even harder. "Gosh, Nyen sure is speedy!" they thought as excitement raced through them. The golden retriever in them started to take over, and instead of slowing down, their running quickened as their heart pounded with adrenaline.

The two tore across the house, then crashed into something solid. Pup yelped and tumbled to the ground in a heap. They blinked up to find themselves staring into the surprised face of Nyon, who was quite clearly minding his own affairs up until Pup charged headfirst into him.

Wait wasn't he in his room 5 minutes ago??

"Pup!" Nyon cried out, staggering back from the impact. "What you—

Pup, excited and spry, scrambled to their feet and planted a sloppy lick on Nyon's cheek without thinking. "Sorry, Nyon! Can't stop, Nyen's right behind me!" they exclaimed, darting off again and leaving Nyon standing where he was, utterly perplexed and somewhat grossed out.

"Why. they lick me?" he muttered to himself, wiping his cheek.

---

Pup giggled as they continued to run around the Ivory Household, Nyen not giving up and still chasing them down-full of determination in a single-minded fashion. Every now and then, Pup would glance back and shout, "Come on, Nyen! You're so slow!" not realizing how close they were getting to being caught.

They finally stopped in the living room, huffing and puffing as if they had been running forever, but still grinning from ear to ear. They turned around, their hands upon their knees, catching breath while awaiting Nyen.

"That was so much fun!" Pup exclaimed as Nyen came into view, still glaring daggers their way. "You're really fast, Nyen! We should do that more often!"

Nyen on the other hand, looked anything but amused. His chest heaved with anger, eyes ablaze with fury as he stalked in their direction. "This isn't a game, you idiot!"

Pup blinked, finally realizing that Nyen might not have been playing after all. "Uh. Wait. you weren't.?"

He grabbed them by the collar with his claws barely grazing skin before they could even get their sentence out. "Get out of my sight before I really lose my temper."

Pup's ears folded into their head as they watched Nyen's angry face. "Oh. Uh. right. Got it!" They scrambled out of his grasp and towards the door, looking only once over their shoulder to give a sheepish grin.

Muttering as they went, "Maybe next time I should ask before jumping into someone's bed."

Luther had been standing in the hall, quietly viewing the whole scene, and he chuckled to himself now as Pup vanished around the bend. "Ah, mein pets," he said, his voice low, shaking his head. "Always so lively."

☆☆☆

It was one of those days in the Ivory Household, with sunlight pouring through the windows, and Pup bursting with energy, as always. After the near disaster with Nyen, they decided to leave him alone for a while. That did not mean the ideas ran dry, though. With a brilliant grin and a spring in every step, they trotted down the hallway, their tail wagging in excitement.

Their next target? Nyon.

They hadn't spent a lot of time with him since they had arrived, and Pup thought it would be fun to try. After all, he seemed far softer and quieter in comparison with Nyen, and maybe—just perhaps—they could coax him into a game or two. Besides, just how hard could it be to get a catman to play?

Pup found Nyon seated in one of the smaller rooms, perched by the window with a book in his hands. His ears flicked every so often as he turned a page, calm and peaceful surrounding him, precisely what Pup was about to cut up.

Pup burst into the room as they always did, their tail in furious waggle. "Nyon! Hey Nyon!" they called cheerily, bounding over to him. "Wanna play?

Nyon blinked slowly, his eyes lifting from his book to land on the over-excited dog-person standing in front of him. He stared for a moment, his brain processing Pup's words as his tail flicked lazily behind him. "Play?" he repeated, the thick accent making the word almost foreign.

"Yeah!" Pup nodded, undeterred by this. "Like tag, or fetch, or. I don't know! Whatever cats like to do!"

Nyon stared at them blankly, clearly confused. "Cats.?" He cocked his head, looking Pup up and down as if they were some sort of creature he'd never seen before. Which, in a way, was probably true. "I am. reading." He held up the book, as if that explained everything.

Pup's tail wagged even faster. "We could read later! Let's do something fun first!" They bounced their weight on the soles of their feet as their eyes shone with excitement. "Come on, it'll be fun!

Nyon exhaled loudly, as if he wasn't used to people having this much energy. He looked at his book longingly before he closed it with a soft thud and put it on the windowsill. "Fun. you say?" He sounded so unsure, the very concept of fun something he hadn't considered in a long time.

Pup nodded vigorously, grinning from ear to ear. "Yeah! Y'know, fun! Running around and playing games-c'mon, I'll show ya!" They didn't give Nyon time to answer but crossed the space between them and tugged him up to his feet.

Nyon's eyes widened in surprise, his tail puffing out slightly at the sudden contact. "Wait-what. what you doing?" He stumbled after Pup, feet dragging as they pulled him from the room into the hallway.

"We gonna play tag!" Pup announced, dragging Nyon along. "I'm 'it' and you gotta run! If I catch you, you're 'it'!"

Nyon's eyes went wide. "Run?

"Yeah, run! Like this!" Pup let go of Nyon's hand and darted full speed down the hallway, their laughter echoing in the house. They whipped around a corner, glanced over their shoulder to find out if Nyon was behind them.

Nyon only stood there, utterly astounded at what was happening. His ears twitched while he watched Pup run off, and for a moment, he considered returning to his book. But then there was something about Pup's irrepressible energy that tugged him along, and with a resigned sigh, he began walking after them-slowly at first.

When Pup realized Nyon wasn't exactly running, they spun around and jogged back toward him, a playful expression on their face. "Come on, Nyon! You gotta try harder than that!"

Nyon's eyes narrowed slightly. "I. do not run."

Pup grinned, tail wagging. "Not yet, you don't! But we'll change that. Ready? Tag, you're it!" They reached out and tapped Nyon lightly on the arm before dashing off again, their laughter filling the halls.

He stood there a moment longer, staring down at his arm where Pup had touched him. He didn't budge, his eyes narrowing slightly in mild confusion. "It. what is it?" he muttered to himself.

Pup, now several feet down the hall, called back to him. "You're s'posed to chase me! Come on!

Nyon let out a low sigh. "Chase." His tail flicked behind him, a slow smile creeping onto his face. "Ah, now I see." He crouched slightly, his instincts finally kicking in.

Before Pup could even have a chance to do anything, Nyon leapt into action with incredible speed, moving with fluid grace. "You run. I chase." The accent rolled across the tongue as he closed the distance between himself and Pup, eyes glinting with mischief.

Pup's eyes went wide; their heart skipped a beat as suddenly, Nyon was a lot faster than they'd expected. "Whoa! You're fast!"

They took off at full speed, their paws a blur against the floor as they tried to outrun Nyon. But Nyon was determined, his movements fluid as he closed the distance between them. "You said. run, yes?" Nyon called out, his voice teasing.

Pup giggled, the thrill of the chase making their tail wag even faster. "Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually catch me!"

Nyon's eyes flashed bright with humor. "I catch. now what?" He was only a few feet behind them now, claws gleaming in the light as he reached out toward them.

Just about the time Pup thought they were done for, they rounded another corner—and promptly crashed straight into Luther, who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

"Oof!" Pup yelped, bouncing off Luther's chest and stumbling backward. Nyon skidded to a stop just in time to avoid plowing into them both.

Luther, eternally unruffled, looked down at Pup with a bemused smile. "Ah, mein liebchen," he said, his voice warm and affectionate. "What trouble are you getting into now?"

Pup grinned up at him, panting slightly from the chase. "We're playing tag! Nyon's really fast!"

Luther chuckled, eyes twinkling with amusement, as he ruffled Pup's hair. "I see. And you, Nyon, you've been drawn into this game as well?

Nyon still got his breath back gave a slight shrug. "They said run. I ran." He looked at Pup, his eyes softening just a fraction. "It. was not bad."

Luther's smile widened as he regarded them. "Ah, how sweet. My little family bonding through games." Lightly he clapped his hands together with an expression bordering pure joy. "It does my heart good to see it."

Pup's tail wagged even harder as they looked up at Luther with shining eyes. "You should come along next time! It's such a lot of fun!"

Luther chuckled, shaking his head. "Perhaps another time, mein liebchen♡. For now, I have other matters to attend to." He gave them both a fond look before turning and disappearing back down the hall.

Pup watched him go before turning back to Nyon with a wide grin. "See? I told you it'd be fun!"

Nyon gave a small smile, his tail flicking behind him. "Yes. fun." He glanced into the hallway where Luther had disappeared, then back at Pup. "You. not so bad."

Pup's eyes lit up, their tail furiously wagging at the compliment. "Aw, thanks Nyon! You're pretty great too!"

Nyon gave a quiet chuckle and shook his head in amusement. "You. are strange."

Pup beamed at him, completely unbothered. "I get that a lot.

--

End.

• ○ . ☆ . ° •╰──────┄°❀°┄─────╯• ° . ☆ . ○ •

[morningmantra]

West Indies: Tragedy in West Indies cricket.. Death of two former cricketers on the same day

There is a great tragedy in West Indies cricket. Two former cricketers who represented the country died on the same day.

There is a great tragedy in West Indies cricket. Two former cricketers who represented the country died on the same day. Delhi: There is a great tragedy in West Indies cricket. Two former cricketers who represented the country died on the same day. On December 8 (Friday), former Windies off-spinner Clyde Butts (66) died in a road accident. Former batsman Joe Solomon (93) passed away due to…

[monsterfloofs]

Alien x Anonymous Reader (Sfw)

(Got to write a little something for my new alieum speices! : > I hope you enjoy! )

It was a whole different experience to arrive at an intergalactic hub with no way to communicate. The typical buzz of translated voices in your ear was replaced with a cacophony of musical sounds, clicking, trills and other inhuman vocalizations. Not that you hadn’t heard them before, but while your tech was working you had been more focused on conversations you could hear and understand. The ability to understand the world around you newly disrupted by static that had buzzed and sputtered angrily into your eardrum. Now that your com portal had chosen the most inopportune time to fizzle out on you, this typical background din had engulfed your attention. A choir of many different voices and dialects, none of which sounded anything remotely like something you could comprehend.

You startled as you were pushed into the crowd, trying to evade one pushy lifeform had you accidentally colliding into another.

You brought your hands up in a plaintive gesture. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” The being blinked at you, tilting its head this way and that, pinchers moving silently. The realization hit hard, without your device working, they couldn’t understand you either. A wave of embarrassment rolled over you as you tried to gesture with your hands. Pointing towards your ear and waving your hands back and forth.

“My com is broken, I can’t um—- Ugh!” The only thing you could think of is to bow apologetically and hurry away before you get yourself into any more trouble.

“This stinks,” You mutter to yourself. “I can’t even ask for my ship to be refueled without this stupid thing working.” You exit the flowing crowd to stop at a quiet space and take a deep calming breath. A hand placed on your heart as you tried to steady your nerves. You didn’t like crowds at the best of times, all those bodies pressing in on you from every direction made your heart do panicked backflips in your chest. You counted your inhale as you felt your lungs rising up against your ribcage. Letting out the exhale for as long as you can stand before starting the pattern again. From this vantage point the crowds don't look that bad, the noise wasn’t as jarring, and you begin to feel like you can breathe easy again.

You observe one distinct looking alien waddling across the shiny tilted floor. It was a species you hadn’t seen before. They had a long snaked head and neck that smoothed into a humanoid torso but ended with a quadruped body with stumpy legs. Like an alligator with the head of a snake, that was fused with a human torso inbetween. With the air of some kind of strange centaur, it waddled along slowly. Its squat lizard legs padded with a pair of synthetic boots that were form fitted to its reptilian toes. It was amusing to note that a lot of aliens gave this being a wide berth, and it made you smile.

At least some beings in the galaxy weren’t letting themselves be pushed around. This fella was taking life in their own stride, and nobody dared telling them to hurry up. At least, not that you could hear anyway. That long neck swiveled towards you, and you saw six white glassy eyes peer at you from above the snake like snoot. You duck your head apologetically, quick to look away. You fumble to retrieve your cell device out of your pocket, looking through the maps of the station. “It looks like there's a help desk on the next floor. . . I am going to hope and pray that someone can understand english.”

Staying at the fringes of the crowd you stick close to the shiny chrome walls, hopping into an elevator that would bring you onto the next level. You do a surprise double take as they see the alligator snake centaur standing alone in the elevator. It’s beady eyes trained on you. The door closes with a ping and the two of you stand awkwardly together.

The being scratches its throat with a clawed hand, before what sounds like a symphony of crickets, come from the back of its throat.

You blink, your eyebrows shooting up at the sound.

“Um. . . Excuse me?”

More cricket sounds, and you grimace awkwardly, before nervously tapping at your ear.

“I can’t— er, I don’t— understand you.”

The pitch drops, sounding more like a swarm locust than crickets. It’s snout cracking open slightly to be able to produce the sound. You fidget anxiously, shoving your hand in your pocket to produce your com, then gesturing with your hands. Tucking the com into one palm before bringing your fists together, thumb down. Then you pull your hands, twisting your wrists. Mimicking a gesture that would be akin to snapping a stick.

“My com is broken,” You tap at your ear again, then demonstrate with your hands.

“Broken.”

You hear crickets again, and rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to crowd your elevator.” You perk up as the elevator door slides open, and with a sigh of relief you smile and wave to the strange alligator centaur.

“Well ah, I would say thanks for the chat, but um, you can’t understand me anyway. Haha, h-have a good day?” You step out onto the new platform, raising a hand to your forehead to try and see around the wave of new colorful station inhabitants. With your phone in one hand and your com back into your pocket you begin to navigate your way through the second floor.

Stopping with a sigh at the counter.

“Hi,” You begin, a deep baritone rumble coming from the severe looking creature from across the desk. Its deep forebrow raises skeptically as you smile awkwardly.

“Uh, uh, here!” You slide the com over the counter, and the being picks it up with a frown.

“It’s. . . ah”

You glance behind you as the reptilian being from the elevator waddles up to the counter. Their sixed glazed pearly eyes peer at you. “Did you need the help desk too?”

Crickets.

Crickets that the alien at the desk is able to hear, the brooding chiseled features lighten with understanding. A growly rumble coming from deep within its chest as it bares its teeth. Obviously laughing at you as your new friend explains your predicament.

“Hey!” You throw your hands up in defeat, “It wasn’t like I wanted to run around not being understood!”

You scrunch your nose as the two beings then engage in conversation, leaving you promptly in the dust. The alien behind the counter rises, pulling a monitor screen over for you, as words begin to jitter across the glass.

“Language?” The metallic voice hums boredly.

“Ah-Earthian English please, thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” replies the Ai, a little nicer than before.

You visibly sag in relief as english words start scrolling across the screen.

[ Communicator is down? ]

“Yes!” You wheeze in exhaustion and relief. There’s more rumbling laughter and a flash of teeth from the bulky alien at the desk.

[ Damn, that’s rough ]

“Oh man, you have no idea, I think I was going to start hyperventilating here, soon. Do you think you can fix it?”

[ I’ll take a look at it and see what I can do. If not, there is a place at the station where you can buy a new one. I’ll wire the store coordinates to your phone, what’s the number? ]

“You’re a life saver, it’s 177-333-9973-602, I can’t thank you enough.”

You bring up your phone, tapping it to the ai screen and it plings as the new information comes through.

[ If I can’t get your com fixed, I will tell the owner you’re heading their way. ]

You take a deep breath and nod.

“Okay, thank you. Thank you again.”

The alien grunts, an amused smile still scrawled over their broad face as they turn away to tinker with the com.

“Well,” You say, turning to your snooted friend, “This has been quite a day, and it’s not even lunch yet.”

♡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡♡

Enjoy what I write? I have a tip jar! I also take writing and art commissions on kofi! ヽ(*ᵔ▿ᵔ)ﾉ