#i don’t prefer them as they were in season one but I do appreciate it in a separate way

[ricketycr1cks]

Season one always kinda has a special place in my heart even if it’s not one of my favorites because they are literally just some dudes. Like thinking of Dennis from season one who is just some cocky guy who picks up chicks and is kind of an ass becoming a suspect of killing his ex wife who is a cat woman or poring hot oil on a doctor is so silly to me

[minimujina]

wanderer in his season of healing makes me so happy. i love that he is safe enough to become softer again, that he is regaining some of his previously “weak” attributes and finding peace with them. he is becoming measured and introspective, and thinking before he speaks, perhaps a result of both his healing and his melancholy; i think it’s beautiful that he is finally able to safely feel his sadness and process the things that have happened. he is simultaneously finding peace and feeling all the difficult emotions he previously consumed with anger. it is painful, but right.

his sense of humor is still intact, certainly rough around the edges as you’d expect, though much less biting than before. it’s easy to tell that most anything aggressive he says is a front, a front that he is no longer concerned with presenting as absolute truth. perhaps the front is his sense of humor, and his affection is all thinly veiled behind jabs and sour grumbles—he is not willing to divulge the intimate details of that, however, preferring to leave it up to interpretation.

i just think of him and his healing and i feel like if he were to fall in love, it would be such a sweet and gentle and quiet sort of thing, just like his newfound peace. he ponders over many things, brooding by himself as much as he can, though he occasionally allows space for others to brood with him. that, i think, is something unique he may grow in. there are people who cannot tolerate strong emotions in themselves and certainly not in others—but he is the kind of person who can. he is the kind of person you could sit with and exist in your sadness and just be sad, and that’s okay. he’s not offering words of comfort or anything, but he doesn’t need to. anything he’d say would be useless anyways, he knows what it’s like and knows that a presence is enough and existing in your emotions safely is enough. he can appreciate someone who is straightforward about feeling unwell, who doesn’t seek pity, who is alright with sitting in the mud. he will gladly sit with you, then, as long as you don’t expect him to get all mushy about things.

he would do well falling in love quietly, not having to beat around the bush. naturally, pieces would fall into place, and he’d find himself yearning to be in the presence of another in a way he’d never before experienced. he had never really wanted to be around anyone, had never sought out anyone’s presence. but once he has been treated gently, has fallen softly into the arms of a likened soul who has the patience and understanding to touch his rough edges without recoiling, he finds his third space being with this new safe person.

and despite his reluctance to be anything but mysterious and nonchalant, i believe wanderer in his healing season would become quite the romantic. not in the sappy sense, but in the quiet love sense i’ve been talking about. firm and protective, subtle and gentle, almost gentlemanlike if it weren’t for his falsely rotten attitude he enjoyed projecting. romantic in a princely way, in a reverently respectful way, in a grotesquely wholesome way.

only the most chaste touches and kisses; he’s still getting used to affection, and would abhor pda. in private he’s much more open to being touched, because he is safe. if he is not safe, he is deeply conditioned to be conscious of his vulnerabilities, and it’s something that will take a lot of time to override, if even at all. but it’s a massive and beautiful step that he is even willing to receive affection at all, that he would want it from a partner in any amount.

hates eye contact, likes playing with hands. likes tracing veins and creases in skin and freckles and scars; he finds them fascinating, as he has nothing of the sort on his artificial body. one of his unique ways he shows affection is what could be called “studying” you. he likes to brood (with you there; perhaps it could be called parallel brooding) and take your arm and trace all the splotches, imperfections, veins, tendons he can find. he likes to touch more than he likes to be touched i think. perhaps he becomes amusingly selfish in this way. perhaps he is more averse to receiving than giving the affection because his disgust towards himself still lingers. perhaps he still has harmful core beliefs to unlearn.

i think he is full of a love that is strong and quiet, a love that he gives so sparingly, and only in pieces, never all at once. unless, that is, someone comes along and manages to drag it all out like a magnet—his carefully crafted exterior is in pieces, just like that! but oh, once someone is in possession of his love, he begins to know them so intimately, more intimately than he lets on. he so deeply knows who he loves and he knows how to give and to take action and so he does it, silently, for he is adept at perceiving the needs of his loved ones. reading body language and facial expressions is second nature to him at this point; nothing can get past him.

he studies you wordlessly with the expression of a cat who loves and reveres its human, except it’s the kind of cat who believes it owns the human, not the other way around. you’re his responsibility that he has taken on like an extension of himself because he loves you, and you have loved him, and now he hardly wants you out of his sight. his journey of rediscovery and learning self acceptance has been mentally and emotionally arduous, but ever since you came in and made loving him seem so easy, he’s felt much more at peace, and has had the capacity to reflect and process with much more freedom to sincerely feel.

stupid fictional character i hate him i hate him so much he is not real and i hate him

[spider-stark]

A BOY'S FIRST PEST

Kaz Brekker x Reader

Summary - Kaz Brekker thinks Per Haskell's daughter is a (very lovely) pest

Warnings - fem!reader, traumatraumatrauma, the woes of troubled youth, light mentions of blood and death, these bitches trauma bonded yo, could deviate some from canon, based more on book!kaz than show, NOT EDITED WE DIE LIKE MEN

Word Count - 2.0k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

Everyone knows Kaz Brekker put his own money into fixing up the Slat. 

He hired men to patch the leaky roof (though it still drips during a heavy rain) and put proper insulation in the walls (which keeps the house warm enough, even if it does nothing to muffle the noise of its occupants). He had all the doors fitted with working knobs (but easily picked locks) and ensured the kitchen was capable of making a warm meal (even if seriously doubted any of the Dregs knew how to cook). 

And while he would never admit it aloud, Kaz was also the one who made sure there were always clean linens in every room (albeit the cheapest Ketterdam has to offer) and spare clothes in every closet (sizes ranging from wafer-thin to barrel-chested). In keeping, he also takes it upon himself to keep the bathing room stocked with a steady supply of toiletries (because if someone uses his toothbrush again, he’s going to kill everyone in this place and then himself). 

Because of Kaz Brekker, the Slat was more than just a safe place to hole up. It was a haven, the closest thing many of the Dregs had to a home. 

But it did, of course, have one enduring problem. 

The pests.

Or, namely, the one pest—one that he could never quite exterminate (though the spider privy to the inner-workings of Kaz Brekker’s mind might argue the merit of replacing ‘could never’ with ‘would never’). 

Per Haskell’s very annoying (and very lovely) daughter. 

In the midst of Ketterdam’s hottest season, you find yourself lying sprawled on your back atop the dark sheets, clad in the skimpiest nightclothes you own: a matching set of black silk shorts and flowy, thin-strapped camisole. The air is thick and near stifling in the attic-bedroom, but you don’t mind it. You prefer being hot to cold, if only because the heavy weight of winter clothes makes you feel trapped, eliciting the urge to crawl straight from your skin. 

When the door finally swings open, you eagerly push up onto your elbows. 

Kaz doesn’t so much as spare a glance in your direction. He’s got one hand on his cane, the other shoving the door shut behind him as he limps toward his desk, guided by the bright moonlight spilling in from the muggy window. 

Your shoulders slump, huffing out a breath. “Seriously? You’re not even gonna greet me?” 

With his back turned to you, Kaz removes his hat and places it on the desk. He doesn’t look at you. “You’re in my room.” 

“Yeah—so I was actually thinking something more along the lines of hello,” you drone, lips pursed. “Y’know, that thing normal people say when they see their friends.” 

“We’re not friends.” 

A hand flies to your chest, as if struck by his words. “Um, ouch? Rude. For your sake, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” 

Kaz tugs off his signature gloves and tosses them next to his hat. “I can always repeat it,” he says, so impassive you can’t tell if it’s a joke. 

Knowing Kaz, you’re pretty sure it’s not. 

You push up the rest of the way, scooting down to sit cross-legged at the end of his bed. It’s so much nicer than yours—the sheets softer, the mattress plusher, the smell so familiar and warm. 

If it were up to you, you’d sleep in here every night. 

And most nights, that’s exactly what you do. 

“Would it kill you to be nice sometimes?” you ask. 

“Not usually, no.” Kaz faces you, his weight leaned back against the desk, his cane propped against it. “But we both know you’re a special case.” 

“Is that a compliment?” 

“Not at all.” 

Your bottom lip juts into a pout. “Has anyone ever told you you’re an asshole?” 

Aside from the subtlest lift of his brows, Kaz’s expression remains vague and disinterested. “Regularly,” he deadpans, looking the image of austere melancholy. 

Your laugh comes so sudden it sounds like a snort. “I should’ve guessed,” you nod, forever unphased by Kaz’s forbidding attitude. 

This is the way things have always been between you. Ever since a surly twelve year old marched head-high into your father’s office to see if the Dregs needed a new grunt, oblivious to the girl beaming up at him from a lonely corner, weaving colorful scraps of thread into bracelets for the friends you’d yet to make. 

Kaz Brekker is dark and foreboding while you’re bright and bubbly; he’s rude and standoffish while you’re sweet and flirtatious. Some may liken your relationship to oil and water, but you prefer thinking of it as a carefully crafted balance—a yin and yang sort of thing. 

Kaz, on the other hand, would simply say you’re a thorn in his side. 

Fortunately for yourself, you’re not an easily offended thorn. 

The rickety floorboards creak as Kaz starts around the desk. His bare fingers trail along the varnished edge for support. His limp is always at its worst by this time of night, so you’re not surprised to see the flicker of relief that slips over him when he finally sinks into the chair. 

“Have you ever considered that maybe you work too hard?” Your voice teeters on the edge of concern, tracing idle shapes against the sheets with your nails. 

His answer is curt, and contradictory to the purple smudges beneath his eyes. “No.” 

Fumbling with his cufflinks—simple, unadorned things—Kaz rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. Afterwards, he flips open the thick ledger laid before him, plucking up a pen and dipping it into an awaiting pot of ink. 

Kaz keeps track of the Dregs expenses in his head—a skill you’ve always found most impressive, since you can hardly do a simple equation without scratch paper. Still, he keeps the physical record for the sake of having something to point to in case someone’s ever stupid enough to claim Dirtyhands flubbed the numbers. 

As he works, boredom quickly becomes a chip on your shoulder. 

Your legs unfurl, bare feet stretching toward the floor as you slip off the edge of the bed. Every step is purposeful, traipsing toward him with a look that’s not so unlike a cat readying to toy with its favorite mouse. 

“Maybe we should take a holiday,” you suggest, your voice a soft trill. 

One part of you expects to be ignored, the other to be shot down. 

He lands somewhere in the middle. 

“And go where? His eyes remain focused on the ledger, dark brows drawn tight in concentration. You envision numbers flashing before him, adding and subtracting at the steady pass of the nib scratching against parchment. 

“I don’t know. Ravka, maybe?” 

“Ravka?” It’s like the word tastes sour on his tongue. “Why?” 

You stop just short of his desk, an answer instantly rapping at your mind. You quickly replace it with one that’s far less tragic. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Nikolai Lantsov with my own eyes,” you drawl. “Nina says he’s quite the looker, y’know.” 

Kaz sits up a little straighter, shoulders pinned with newfound tension. 

“Of course he is.” He seems to press the nib down harder, his disinterested tone bordering close to resentful. “He’s a prince—looking pretty is all they’re good for.” 

Your head tilts. “Well, he’s actually a king now, so…” 

There’s the briefest falter in the smooth motion of his jotting wrist. “I’m not taking you to Ravka so you can seduce the Lantsov bastard.” 

“And why not?” You reach for the tip of his cane, still propped against the desk, skimming a finger over the crow’s head. “You think I can’t do it?” 

The pen keeps on scratching, accented by the dull hum of the Slat’s perpetual motion—doors slamming, voices cackling. Your ego grows larger for every second Kaz stays silent, your satisfaction settling into a feline smirk. 

Simply, yet firmly, Kaz eventually maintains, “We’re not going to Ravka.” 

Your exhale is something over dramatic, laden with feigned disappointment as you huff, “Fine!” Kaz never looks up, continuing with the ledger. 

Abandoning the crow’s head, you swipe one of Kaz’s abandoned gloves off the desk, fiddling with the smooth leather. Still recovering from their civil war, you imagine Ravka isn’t an ideal travel spot right now, anyway. Not unless someone has a morbid desire to tour the sites where Saints met their often-grisly ends, that is… Besides, for all Nina’s praise of the Lantsov king, you’ve never actually had a thing for blondes. 

And yet— 

“I really would like to go someday.” Your voice is hardly a whisper. Your other answer—tragic and rapping—crawls up your throat in a hoarse admission, “My mother was Ravkan.” 

That persistent scratching finally comes to a sudden halt. 

For the first time since he entered the room, Kaz looks up. There’s not a hint of pity in his eyes, though they gleam with solemn understanding. Your lips thin, pressing his glove tight to your chest. 

In the winter of your fourteen birthday, you snuck into your father’s office and stole a full bottle of kvas. Dressed in clothes too light for the frigid weather, you sped up the crooked stairs to Kaz’s attic-bedroom, pleading until he begrudgingly agreed to join you on the moonlit roof. For a boy who claimed such an aversion to you, he was always doing things you asked—even if he’d griped the whole time. You both gagged after the first sip of hard liquor. After an hour or so, the full bottle had dwindled to just a drop, your tongues seeming to move with more freedom. 

Neither of you had been prepared for the way the carbonated joy in your chests fizzled to something stagnant. 

I don’t like being alone, you told him, fiddling with the frayed strings tied around your wrist, the friendship bracelets no one ever wanted. If I’m alone, it means I’m thinking, and if I’m thinking, it means my mother won’t stop dying. 

You told him of the endless montage in your head. How at six years old, a walk along the Stave in your favorite winter coat ended with getting crushed beneath the weight of your mother’s last act of devotion, shielded by a body crumpled and crimson, shorn in the crossfire of unexpected gang violence. When you fell silent, Kaz drained the last drop of kvas and told you about a coffee shop near the Exchange. About a sickboat and a boy named Jordie, about a frosty harbor and an impossible swim that left him unable to bear the touch of another’s skin. 

When neither of you had any soul left to bear, Kaz chucked the bottle off the roof. You don’t remember hearing it shatter, and maybe it never did. Maybe it hit some hapless pigeon and fractured his skull. Maybe it ceased to exist the moment it went over the edge. The bottle didn’t matter. Not to you. Not when Kaz Brekker reached for your wrist, leather-clad fingers gently tugging the bracelets off your wrist. 

Don’t make a thing of this, he told you, stuffing them in his pocket. You’re still a pest.

But it was a thing. A strange, beautiful thing—and both of you knew it. 

“Fine.” Kaz’s voice—the rasp of stone on stone—drags you back to the present. He sits the pen down beside the ledger, a strand of black hair swaying with the subtle shake of his head. “We’ll go to Ravka. You’ll seduce some sorry prince and live happily ever after in a gaudy palace. I’ll make my fortune snagging the Lantsov Emerald and use it to hire a proper bookkeeper. Deal?” 

Your lips twitch, still hugging his glove to your chest. “King,” you correct him. 

His eyes roll, but a flicker of something warm betrays his affection. “Pest,” he calls you, though it doesn’t sound like much of an insult. 

“I imagine the Grand Palace has fine exterminators,” you muse. 

“Then I suppose your marriage will be short-lived.” 

“Will you save me, then?” Your heart leaps with the question, how it slips from your tongue before you can grasp it. 

Kaz hesitates. Then—remarkably—smiles. 

“Maybe.”

a/n - you know what they say. a bottle of kvas is never just a bottle of kvas, amirite

(☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

anyways, i was procrastinating an essay and thought "lets write something with a somewhat ambiguous ending!" and voila, a boy's first pest is the product. now everyone say: lainie, go work on your original writing and stop writing so much fan fiction! (but i'm already thinking of a kaz smut drabble so) anyways, comments and reblogs much appreciated, i cry with joy every time someone actively interacts with my work so THANK YOU

[abysstrap-ran]

❖ Piltover Winters (Jayce/Viktor Headcanons)

A/N: I realize I always come back to writing around xmas. Erm, anyway. Have you guys seen Savior Viktor??? Delicious. *I don’t actually know if it snows in PnZ but it’s December so let’s live a little.

❖ Viktor

If you're cold, chances are he's freezing too because of how cold he usually runs.

Will forget his scarf. Sometimes, in his work-induced haze, he also forgets that he's not dressed for the weather and walks out of the lab only to get blasted in the face by the sheer COLD, grumbling and sniffling as he retreats back inside. Hence, he appreciates the heater and the fireplace in his academy-funded apartment very much.

While he might not be the biggest fan of the winter chill, he’s amazed by snow since it never reaches the part of the Undercity where he grew up.

Give Viktor a cup of hot chocolate, and his eyes will light up. He won’t admit it, and very few know about it, but much like his love for sweetmilk, he is very much a fan of hot chocolate. However, he doesn’t opt for it too often because its sweetness will irritate his throat, so he takes it every once in a while. He’ll be in a good mood the whole day if he does get a cup, something that Jayce capitalizes on if only to see him smile.

This man can not get up in the mornings, preferring to burrow deeper into the blankets or closer to a heat source where it's warm and toasty. You’ll have to drag him out or coax him out with a cup of hot beverage.

His body does him no favors in this department. The ever-bearing cold makes his joints ache worse, so it’s safe to say that his leg does not like him very much.

Once he gets the back brace, the screws permanently etched onto his spine will hurt, especially in the deep of winter. He’s gotten used to it to a degree, but sometimes it renders him somewhat immobile. It is also hard to navigate through snow with a crutch. This is why you’ll almost never find him outside during the winter months, though that hasn’t changed much from the past. Even if he has to go outside for some godforsaken reason, he’ll make them short and snappy trips at best, or send Jayce, who would be more than happy to do so, in his place.

❖ Jayce

Snow is not his forte, considering how he nearly died in a blizzard as a child. But, it has grown on him slowly over time. Though, you won’t find him outside when the snowfall turns heavy.

He may not show it, but he loves the seasonal festivities. He fondly remembers hitting the attractions and festivals with Caitlyn back when they were both younger, and would sometimes do the same again, if only for the nostalgic factor.

The man of progress might be busy, but Jayce the present-giver works doubly hard. You may barely see him out of his lab, but he’ll make the time, sometimes out of thin air, to get everyone presents.

Coat? What is a coat? This guy’s a furnace, he’s fine (not really) but he will claim he’s fine if you ask. Will happily let anyone he's close to cling to him for his warmth, or laugh and give them his scarf so now they're like a two-scarf coat rack. Paints a rather funny picture to be bundled up in an abundance of scarves.

Probably has to participate in a lot of winter social events due to the council. Dutiful as he is, Jayce will attend those societal gatherings, but you bet he'd whine the next person's ear off by the time he's dragged to his mandatory 3rd dinner/gala or something similar along those lines. Sometimes, if he gets bored, he sneaks back to the lab when no one's noticing… until Heimerdinger pops up when he least expects it. “There's a time and place for innovation, my boy! But tonight's a night for the outdoors, don't you think?”

Will oftentimes be the first one up in the mornings because he knows he has a packed schedule and he'd better get up or else. When he doesn't get up due to it being a lazier day, he'll hog ALL the blankets, curling into a ball and going back for another snooze, much to your chagrin.

[sheepispink]

Food to feed the heart ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི relationships: simon riley x baker!reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི A/N: ello cuties i know i havent posted anything so take this before i post the next chapter (likely this weekend) because i also have exams next week which also means no chapter.. 😔

Part 1 | Prev | Next

A few days have passed since he had driven you back home from the farm, and you’re still a little flustered that you had fallen asleep so easily. It was embarrassing but thankfully he wasn't the one to wake you up; you’d probably pass out again if you opened your eyes to his skull mask in your face—no offense to him, of course. The truck jostled as he unpacked the car to take out all the fresh produce, clearly having no intentions of making you help. He handled it all with ease, feeling more like carrying a shopping bag than the heavy glass bottles of milk. “Simon?” Your voice has mumbled out sleepily, dragging your tired self around the side of the truck to watch as he lifted each crate. He had gone completely still at your words though, something shifting behind his eyes that were usually quite sharp, though it doesn't seem to be uncomfortable. That look alone flustered you and you immediately got to work despite his protests, hurrying to pack all the produce away.

You’ve long since closed the shop now, but you were preparing some dough as per usual. It was all you ever seemed to do these days, and even if more people were appreciating your bakes, you find yourself desperate for a new invention. Or well, at least somekind of new product in the shop. Somehow, your mind drifts back to your old train of thought that other day, what Simon would eat for lunch. You think he’d like something rich with flavour, considering how dry military food would be, but not spice—it doesn't look like he could handle that much anyway. Savoury seems to be his preference, even if he has tried a few of your sweeter options before. Don’t soldiers need lots of protein and carbs too? At least that’s what everyone says about building muscle, so you mentally jot those points down too. Your stomach rumbles as you see a notification from a cooking channel you follow, instantly clicking on it to see the thumbnail that is the most delicious tacos with their seasoned meat and vegetables. The video even showed pulled chicken tacos, but that’d seemed to be too messy for him to eat on the job— definitely a note for another day.

You hum as you lean against the counter, looking at the bread dough in the bowl before you. Pulled chicken sounded damn good especially for protein, you have bread already, and shredded vegetables would be easy to get…you're going to make the best damn meal he’ll have in his life.

——————————————————————

Sweat trickles down his back and soaks his shirt as he pants quietly, breaths eventually slowing down from his early morning run. The air is crisp, almost biting with how cold it is as December deepens. He doesn't particularly like how much his thoughts have shifted these days, always thinking about his next visit to his bakery rather than the rest of his schedule for the day. Damnit, just the mere sight of a teacup makes him think of your grin when you hand one to him. He’s convinced he’s starting to go insane.

The locker rooms are quiet at this time, and so he pulls off his top in one smooth motion before throwing in his laundry bag that he’ll handle later. His muscles flex as he stretches them a little, fishing out a fresh vest and shirt when his phone buzzes in his duffel bag. That’s unusual, no one really bothered texting him apart from his phone service provider or occasionally an app notification. Even Soap preferred to just hunt down the Lieutenant himself, knowing he barely ever checked his phone. But he does now, because now he’s got someone who has his number, and who actually wants to text him too. Your name and the silly picture you took on his phone flash up, and for once his thumb fumbles when he types his password in.

“Is there any chance i could potentially leave something for you at like.. a military gate.. post.. thing? You forgot something in the shop!”

He raises a brow at the message, knowing damn well he’s never been reckless enough to forget something that would be important as to be delivered to him at this time. If it really was something, surely it could wait until he inevitably saw you next week. At least, that’s what his rationale is telling him. He shouldn't breach work hours and go off and let you into the base, no he should just tell you that it isnt possible and he’ll handle it himself. He’d be damned if he ever let you drive your truck up here, carrying one of his things and delivering it to him personally. What if someone saw you? What if another soldier talked to you and you realised they’re the one you want to stay friends with and not him?”

At that he slams the locker door closed, letting out a deep breath and ignoring the way his face heats. It’s just because of the run, just because of the way his mask clings to his face. It’s really hot in here, yeah that’s it. This -2° air is boiling.

It’s almost lunch time now, and he walks down to the admin area where an intern, who is usually tasked with the mundane tasks like these, tells him there’s a girl waiting for him at the gate. He just gruffly nods, hands stuck in his pockets as he steps out of the building and where you stand on the other side of the barrier, awkwardly waiting with a little paper bag. He’s glad you’re wrapped up, a thick scarf practically engulfing your face and a wooly hat covering the hair he loves the look of. “Miss Lost and Found, is that your name now?” He hums, stepping towards you and you almost jump, not used to the physical skull mask he wears on base and rather the more tame chalk one. But his voice resonates instantly and you grin, tugging down your scarf to your chin. “I may have lied. I came bearing a delivery.”

Well he hadn't expected you to straight up lie to get your way, but he supposes it must be a good cause and so he takes the bag when you offer it to him, though not without taking your wrist too. “C’mon, let's get you warmed up inside.”

You’re not sure if you stick out like a sore thumb because of the thick jacket you wear compared to the camos sported around here, or due to the Lieutenant’s grip around your hand as he tugs you along. It must be a mix of both, assuming from the way the other soldiers look at Ghost and then you before scurrying off quickly. He eventually seats you opposite him in an office, letting you sit on the couch as he settles on the armchair. Though.. this office does not match him in the slightest. “Captain’s office, not mine.”

He hums, digging out the container out of the paperbag with curiosity along with a warm flask. “You didn't..” He grunts, eye flickering down at the food and then up to you, not quite sure just yet if the little lunchbox you brang is something he had somehow left behind in another life or you really had brought him lunch while he was working.

“I did. I wanted to thank you for all your help the other day” You grin, and he pulls off the lid, instantly caught in the delicious smell inside. Two large chicken stuffed buns right beside each other, practically still hot considering you cooked them this morning. Beneath is veggie sticks, ones you’d usually give to little kids, layered over seasoned rice in case he wasn't full on the buns already. And of course, would it really be you if you didn't give him a dessert? Of course, nothing too sweet, in fact you even went out of your way to make another off menu item for him… oops.

“Banana bread? Do you note down everything I say?” He likes the way your smile grows wider when he notices your efforts, taking care to remember that for later too. Though, he really is surprised you were paying that much attention to him. “You know I'm gonna devour this, righ’?”

Though you’re quickly cut off when the door bangs open, a noise common around here but not exactly for you since you unintentionally jump. It doesn't go unnoticed by Simon though, whose hand shoots out to protect before realising you had only jumped at the door and nothing actually serious. His hand says awkwardly hovering before you before he just picks some lint of your shoulder, quickly turning to the door instead. Is he going crazy or what? The cause of the noise was a bulky man who had almost as much muscle as the man in front of you, only shorter than him and the muscle was more evenly distributed.

“Lt, the fuckin’ rookies are at it again! This new batch are always fighting eachother!” He exclaims, walking over to the desk in the office to snatch a cookie out of a jar that easily blends into the rest of the furniture around. You stare at him as he bites into it, the crumbs falling onto his tactical gear before his head lifts to meet Simon’s, only to see you right in front of him. He raises a single brow at you, then chomps on a cookie a little more.

“Oh, is this one of ‘em? Lass doesn't even look terrified, have ye lost yer touch mate?” Ghost grunts as the man jests, and shakes his head before trying to move the lunchbox out of the man’s sight. “She’s not a soldier, Johnny.”

“Not a soldier eh? So.. CIA? One of Laswell’s right?”

“No”

”Medic?”

“No.”

“K9 Trainer?”

“No.”

”Damnit, Lt, yer killing me!”

‘Johnny’ groans as he steps around the desk, before promptly noticing the lunchbox that Ghost had failed to completely hide behind him. Though, that left even more questions unanswered. For starters, when has Ghost ever sat with someone for lunch?

“None of ya business who she is. I’ll deal with the rookies in five, just get ‘em rounded up, Soap.” Then he turns to you, wrapping the scarf that was tossed to the side back around your neck before he pulls you up by your hands. “And you need to get back home.”

“Do I really look like I could be in the CIA?” Soap snaps his gaze to you as your head tilts, in a way that’s far too friendly, towards Ghost though he only rolls his eyes up at you and huffs out a chuckle. “You couldn't even kill a fly.”

“I didn't want fly blood on me!”

You argue and Ghost turns to see the other soldier staring, so he grunts and closes the lid onto the lunchbox. Soap had just been through a series of emotions and confusion was an aspect of all of them. Ghost had just tucked a scarf around your neck, refused to give your identity to him and he was about to walk you back to wherever you came from. For once in his life, he stays silent as his Lieutenant leads you out, a hand on your back to guide you.

——————————————————————

After he walked you back to your car and made sure you knew your way out of the complex, he had spent the next half hour dealing with those damn rookies Soap groaned about. Finally, he was free now, the little blue lunch box in front of him, and lord was he starving. As he promised, he devoured everything you made him, even taking a moment to stop and savour the burst of flavour the shredded chicken had been coated in. It was more than good, it was like the takeout they only got every so often, like the drinks he’d share with his taskforce, or even the sigh that gets let out when everyone comes back unscathed from a mission. It was comforting and warm, a promise of safety and he’d be damned if he never got to try this cooking ever again. So, he savours each bite, every drop of tea in the flask until it’s empty. He’ll scrub the container clean for you, grab you a box of chocolates even if it was meant as a thnak you. And he’d be back in that bakery, as soon as he could.

———————————————————————

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Taglist:

@hidden-treasures21 @bieberismysoulmate @gallantys @tessakate @galactict3a @krispymagazinepizza-blog

[grace-williams-xo]

RAMBLING THOUGHTS AFTER FINISHING PART TWO. GONNA ADDRESS MY P1 THOUGHTS FIRST. SPOILER WARNING.

1 & 2: I think Debling could’ve worked in the second half, and I’m kinda sad Cressida didn’t get a happy ending. The Creloise fell of a CLIFF after ep 5 but I think it could still be saved

5: no cishet man has ever loved his wife more than Anthony Bridgerton I’m gonna be ill

6 & 12: kanthony’s absence was felt BAD in the finale, I think their reactions to LW were sorely needed. Also Jonny and Simone have both said they’ll be at every sibling’s wedding and stick around for years but they missed Francesca’s??? Also felt their absence too much then. They’re both booked and busy I think we’ll continue to only get a couple episodes a season from them

8: Francesca did get to thrive happy in pt 2 my baby I love her

9: I think they managed to disconnect the mondrich plot even further like 😭 once again, I don’t mind them their plot just feels very empty

10: Pen and Delacroix CONTINUE to be my fave duo I love them so freaking much and they can never get rid of it

13: Portia’s growth this season continued to be 10/10 I loved her and Penelope’s relationship it really showed what it’s like to be closely related to people you oppose and the process of needing to forgive and understand them for your own peace of mind

14: that was not how I was expecting Colin to find out about Whistledown

15: Marcus felt a little rushed in part two but I think I need to watch the whole season together to fully decide

17: this was indeed the longest 27 days of my life I got Covid day after it dropped lmfao

MY ~NEW~ THOUGHTS:

We finally got character development from Cressida and if they write her out I’ll be inconsolable (as will Jessica Madsen)

I hope they paid Golda Rosheuvel good for her feet exposure. Worth more than titties in this economy

I feel the need to tell everyone that £5000 in 1815 is in the realm of £500,000 today and we cannot brush over the fact Penelope has made herself the equivalent of a literal millionaire

Anthony has two moods ‘I’m obsessed with my wife’ ‘I want to win this game’ like it is comical how drastically different his facial expression is in the game of charades compared to pretty much every other scene

Anthony saying the marriage is perfect and not hard work and Kate being like BOY I will humble you,,,, doing the lord’s work I love her so much

At some points I felt like Francesca was fighting Anthony for ‘Violet’s least favourite child’ award lmao

John saying he’s off to look at the wainscotting was unfairly funny

Cressida in the red dress is even better than I imagined fuck even if she’s not gay then I am

Peneloise back together the universe is healing I love my babies all we need now is creloise lovers and peneloise friendship simultaneously I don’t like it being one or the other sue me

However much Brimsley is getting paid isn’t enough,,,, Hugh Sachs the man that you are

I adored Penelope’s wedding dress so much and as bitter as I am still about no kanthony wedding in s2, it felt kind of right somehow for Polin to be the first wedding we properly see in this show

Most of the costumes and makeup feel like they got worse,,,,, big ‘I hired a 14 year old’ energy. I don’t need historical accuracy but I would like a modicum of care and the costume/hair/makeup dept looking at a single historical reference from before 1850,,,, please

We all got the bi Benedict we’ve been asking for and I appreciate it, and recognise that he needed Tilley to explore that, but I still would’ve preferred if they first main queer experience was not a threesome

If they go straight into benophie in s4 (which idk, I’m so torn bc I feel like F, E and B all could work well next season) then I also feel like bi Benedict was just them throwing a bone for 5 mins but meant nothing

The CONTENTIOUS Michaela Stirling,,,,, I was undecided until I saw it but that was the definition of gay panic from Francesca and it worked so well I am so excited.

As your resident peerage expert, it is much easier for women to inherit titles in Scotland than England so I wonder (not that anyone on this show knows anything) if that was a reason they chose Francesca to be sapphic [general peerage info and female inheritance info if you care]

On the above, if they can canonically end racism with one marriage then they can end homophobia with one marriage as well

We all know Eloise was the easy and obvious choice to be the queer love story but part of me does kind of like them not taking the easy route, and them going something more unexpected, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want Creloise/Sapphic El like they had eight children let’s be honest

Finch’s sneeze and Phillips’s “now Varely! The bugs!” were unfairly funny

Everything Lady Danbury said to Penelope about suspecting her and what not felt very in character and you can fight with the wall idc

Did they tell us the name of Polin’s baby boy???

Hyacinth saying she thinks of Gregory as the family pet,,,,, girl you an icon walking amongst mere mortals

Predictions I got right:

Anthony didn’t kill Colin, but “are you gonna duel your own brother” lmao I was on the right track

I knew Polin would win the Featherington baby race and I love that for them (but why were Prudence and Phillipa pregnant most of the season, barely showing, Kate was showing almost immediately, and then in the epilogue the sisters all had baby’s similar-ish ages???? Give the writers room a calendar please)

I SAID FROM DAY DOT THAT THE FURNITURE THEY BROKE FROM SEX WAS A CHAISE I CANT FIND THE POST BUT I KNEW IT I FUCKING KNEW IT WHERE DO I COLLECT MY PRIZE SOME OF YOUR GUESSES WERE TRULY FUCKING COOKED

Okay that was too long if you made it this far I’ll make you cookie ily

[luckycharms1701]

Oh, please, I must know now… Donnie during mating season??? :D I’m loving ur writings about this :)

alright you thirsty purple fans, it’s time!

sidenote: i am. so glad. that people are enjoying these. they’re a lot of fun to write!

double sidenote: i have added a link to my masterpost to all my bayverse mating season headcanons! you can also find them here

sooooo donnie. he's a freak in the sheets, you cannot change my mind. so especially strong spicy warning for this one 🌶️

Donnie is extremely matter of fact about mating season. The first time he brings it up with you, he’s more nervous about your answer than he is shy about explaining what it entails. (You couldn’t hear the words, but you did hear him muttering to himself before he came up to ask you. You suspect it was a pep talk.) He is very thorough when explaining mating season in general and how it affects him in particular. You are grateful and also a little turned on by the time he’s done.

Before you were in the picture, Donnie used to work himself until his system overloaded and he passed out during this time. Now he finds himself working a lot less, because he has you to focus on. He appreciates that you make him spend more time on leisure and don’t let him overwork himself. He also appreciates that you do let him work at least a little when the desire hits. Getting to cuddle with you is a surefire way to get him to rest when he needs it though. As long as you’re nearby, he’s happy to do whatever.

Donnie is a talker in general, but it gets ramped up to 100 when it’s his season. Unless his mouth is busy doing… other things… it’s basically a 24/7 stream of consciousness fest. Mostly it’s about you. How much he loves you, what in particular he loves about you, how exactly he wants to make love to you. His morning star, his starlight, his celestial beauty. Sometimes, though, he’ll interrupt himself to talk about something that just occurred to him about one of his projects. It never fails to pull a laugh out of you and make him rub the back of his neck in (adorable) embarrassment.

He enjoys physical affection and often seeks it out from you, and this holds true during his season. He won’t whine or get grumpy if you don’t want to be touching him all the time (*cough* like his brothers will *cough*), but he does prefer if you’re in contact with him somehow. He enjoys watching movies with your head on his lap and your hand in his. He especially likes it when you're on top of him.

Donnie is used to just taking care of himself whenever necessary, AND he is used to handling delicate things during his season. So there is a lot of gentle manhandling when the time comes. You can't do anything particularly engaging because he will come up and interrupt you whenever to have sex. IF you are wearing clothes at all (not often), you cannot wear underwear or pants, at most a skirt. That way he can just lift it up and enter you whenever the urge hits. He is especially fond of doing this when you're sitting on his lap while he's working (... "daddy's little cockwarmer").

Having you around does not mean that all of his toys go unused, oh no. He is very considerate, and would rather resort to them when you're getting rest. (He got your permission to stare at you while you slept and he used his toys. So considerate.) He also came up with some new toys that the two of you can use together. Having toys custom designed for your pleasure? Well. It really adds to the experience of mating season.

He likes to take his time and study you. He is always coming to you with a new experience he wants to try. He does get a lot of pleasure out of trying new things, but he mostly just wants to know how you'll react. He is intimately familiar with your body and how it reacts, and he wants to see if those reactions hold true when different stimuli are applied. His prodigious brain is always working. He particularly likes when something catches you off guard and a surprised gasp comes out of your mouth.

Donnie is not overtly possessive, even in his season. But there is always one hickey very carefully placed somewhere noticeable that you can't cover easily. He knows just how much force to use to leave an imprint of his hands without hurting you more than you enjoy. And if he catches someone looking at you? You will probably be walking a little funny the next day. When he ties you up (he enjoys tying you up. a lot.), he'll take a minute to sit back and observe you, pleasuring himself to thoughts of how you belong to him the same way he belongs to you.

When his season is over, his favorite thing to do is cuddle with you while the both of you sleep it off. He won't leave the bed, not even to work, until he deems you fully rested. (He will work in bed while you sleep on his plastron though.) His second favorite thing to do is bathe you. He takes his time to make sure every inch of you is clean and cared for. It's a lot like going to a spa, because Donnie did a lot of research into spas so that he could replicate that experience for you. And if you give him a little pampering in return? You'll get to hear him chirp and churr in complete satisfaction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

head bonks: @yorshie @avery73 @justalotoffanfiction @thejudiciousneurotic

[dedeinthewild]

Could you please do a pepe marti story where you’re both curled up under a blanket, sharing earbuds, listening to a song that means everything to them. “this part,” they whisper, right before the lyrics hit, “makes me think of you.”

pepe martí x reader, established relationship

~"this part, makes me think of you"

summary : Pepe and his girlfriend juggled uni and racing with fun moments—studying together, teasing each other, and enjoying lazy days. Simple, sweet, and full of laughter.

It was a rather tough period for the two of them. They were juggling their first university sessions, feeling the winter creeping in like a cold caress down their spines.

During a break, she had decided to book a flight that would take her to Pepe, tired but thrilled at the idea of balancing his Formula 2 season with his courses.

Before long, her subway pass for commuting to campus was replaced by running around the house, chasing each other like maniacs. Her jeans and serious-looking coat gave way to an old pair of sweatpants and a shirt she’d conveniently stolen from Pepe.

There was something magical about spending time with that boy, without a care in the world, talking about ten thousand things while binging nerdy movies. They never seemed to run out of things to say. They jumped from one topic to another—whether he was on the simulator and she was at the desk, or one of them sat on the bed while the other worked on a puzzle he’d been gifted but never had the time to finish.

“God, this smells,” she said, pulling out a shirt he often wore from a neatly folded pile of clothes.

Pepe grabbed the shirt instinctively, sniffing it to see if it smelled of sweat or if he’d forgotten to wash it. But it just smelled like his cologne.

“I wore it when I went to the restaurant with Mom,” he said, knowing full well she’d detect even the faintest extra spritz of fragrance.

“Yesterday, I was talking with Christian about how Gabi loves it when he puts cologne on her.”

“I hate cologne.”

“You don’t hate it,” said the Spaniard, arms crossed behind his neck, watching her search for something to wear after washing her hair.

“I simply prefer your natural smell,” she shrugged, opting to stick with the damp shirt she’d had on before climbing onto the bed and resting her head on Pepe’s lap.

He laughed, jokingly cupping her face with one hand, knowing he could always draw out one of those stunning smiles he loved so much. His hand drifted down to run through her hair.

“I should be studying chemistry,” she said, looking up at him from where she lay, noticing how he’d let his hair grow out and how, despite his packed schedule, he didn’t show a trace of fatigue.

“Want me to help you?”

How many times, before she started university, had he stayed up late, even with a race the next day, to help her with math homework? He’d patiently explain things, occasionally losing himself, and every time he did, she’d ace her exams anyway.

“I guess I’ll just procrastinate,” she said, turning to hug one of his legs and closing her eyes, feeling too cozy to start studying.

But Pepe, knowing she’d feel guilty later if she didn’t study as planned, sat up and suggested something.

“Go get your chem going, and I’ll do some laps on the sim,” he said. “Then we can play a game—your pick.”

She looked at him with one of those playful smiles, her sweet-smelling hair brushing his face as she leaned in to kiss his nose.

“God, I love you.”

The driver headed to his simulator, calling Christian and their friends to stream a quick race, while she sat at the kitchen table, firing up her computer to dive into genetics. It was a subject she’d always loved and still appreciated, despite the overwhelming workload, making it easy for her to retain the information.

There was something about him living life at 300 kilometers per hour while maintaining the kindness and purity that defined him, and her dedicating her life to her studies, finding fulfillment primarily through her achievements that tied her down. Perhaps, deep down, those two worlds complemented each other, meeting between Grand Prix weekends and bonding over their wildly different interests.

“I don’t want to be nosy, but if you can, be quiet,” said the Spaniard into his mic, gripping the simulator wheel as he drove a road car on the Nürburgring.

“You know us—when we beat you, it’ll be anything but quiet.”

“Come on, she’s studying,” he smiled shyly into the camera, his eyes fixed on the screen, wearing blue-light glasses.

Corner after corner, the Spaniard proved to be the fastest, barely trailing one of the bots. Meanwhile, she repeated key concepts aloud, her table covered in textbooks, notes, and a forgotten mug of tea amidst the papers. Pepe’s plan to separate into two rooms was paying off; hours later, he emerged victorious from the tournament with his friends and colleagues, and she, when she felt his hands on her shoulders, had already studied a third of what she needed to prepare over the next two weeks.

“Fancy a little break?”

“It’s interesting how you get me to study and then do the opposite,” she smiled, jotting down a few last notes and turning to him, realizing she did need a break despite feeling like she could keep going.

“I didn’t do much today, so I might as well waste the last hours with you.”

“Waste your time with me?” she raised an eyebrow.

He nodded, teasing her with that special smile of his, before flopping onto the couch and motioning for her to join him.

“Bed to bed, couch to couch,” she sang, parodying Smooth Operator as she referred to their lazy day. The day before, he’d taken her on a lovely walk in a place he knew, and the next day, they were planning a day trip.

He shrugged, smiling, knowing full well he wouldn’t do anything productive anyway, and opened his arms for her to cuddle up beside him.

They spent some time in silence, her head resting on his chest, his hand gently stroking her hair as they both closed their eyes to rest. Then, as they often did, she opened the book she was reading in her spare time and accepted one of the earbuds Pepe handed her to listen to some music.

Sometimes, it was her playlist—eclectic and adaptable to any mood. Other times, it was his, secretly curated just for her. A mix of vintage tunes, songs they’d heard on trips, and new tracks she loved discovering while close to him and immersed in a good book.

As she recognized the notes of a song her dad often played when reminiscing about his younger days, she looked at Pepe, who was rubbing his eyes.

“For real?” she asked, feigning boredom, even though she was the first to love ’80s music and its vibes.

“Classic,” he replied, humming along as she chuckled, pulling her legs up and wrapping herself around his athletic frame.

“This part,” said the Spaniard as the second verse began.

This is the sound

Always slipping from my hands

Sand’s a time of its own

Take your seaside arms and write the next line

Oh, I want the truth to be known

“Makes me think of you,” he whispered.

Through every high and low, there was something that kept him going beyond his passion for racing. That something was seeing her smile under the podium or hearing her sweet words when he returned to the garage. Teaching her math, urging her to study when he knew she’d regret not doing so, and spending lazy days together at home.

What an incurable romantic.

~ not proofread or anything, I feel like I can't capture anything well anymore... anywayss let me know :)

(it's so shorttt)

[ninjago-oc-appreciation]

Ninjago Oc Secret Santa 2024

What is a Secret Santa? - A Secret Santa is a gift giving event; you’ll be assigned someone to secretly make a gift for, and someone will make a gift for you. - It’s very important that no one knows that you are making them a gift and vice versa, that you don’t know who is making you a gift! Are there any rules? - Absolutely no N/S/F/W or Suggestive content is permitted for prompts, gifts, or references. This is /not/ an 18+ event. - No direct contact with the person you’re making a gift for; you can communicate through me or ask through anon on tumblr if you can. - No AI art/writing, Gacha edits, face claims, picrews, or bases will be permitted for oc reference submissions or gifts. - Oc x Canon and Oc x Oc ships are 100% allowed. - Fankids, sonas, and self inserts are also allowed; my only rule is that fankids of Lloyd x Canon ships are not permitted. - Please respect requests regarding holiday or seasonal preferences when making a gift. Don’t depict an oc participating in a holiday or seasonal activity that the creator asked not be depicted.

- For the art portion, you must draw the character(s) you were assigned and they must be visible (feel free to ask for clarification) How many ocs can be submitted total? - At least one oc is required, but up to three can be submitted ^^ What will I need for sign ups? - Refs or art that show a clear, colored depiction of your oc. - OR at least two pieces of writing for said oc (does not need to be a whole fic. Could easily just be a quick blurb showing how they’re written as a character) - Basic Information/Fun Facts about your character. This can be background information, relationships, likes/dislikes, age and height, personality, etc. - Suggestions or prompts for your gift giver. Stuff to help get their brain going. - Your blog name (not the name you go by online but the url name. Like @/Ninjago-Oc-Appreciation. Make sure it’s a tumblr url, and not from any other social media) What’s the general timeline for this event? - Sign ups will officially begin near the end of October, around the week of Halloween. - Assignments will be within the first couple of weeks of November. - You will have until December 23rd to January 7th to finish your piece. These will be the designated posting days. - January 8th to 14th will be the designated late week. How do I sign up? - In Late October, I’ll post a google form where you can submit your oc(s)! There will be one for writing and one for art! - Please reach out to me in someway after signing up. This can be through messages, asks, comments, etc. In the past we’ve had issues with the forms, where they’d “eat’ a submission, and I’d like to know when to check to make sure this doesn’t happen again. Additional Notes: - This will likely be the last year I host the writing portion of the event, unless a significant amount of people show interest. Last event we only had one person sign up, and the one before that we just barely got two. - Google forms does require an email in order to make submissions with images and documents, a necessary part of the sign up process. The process is entirely private on your end, so I will not be seeing the emails used. - We’ll be using #NOSS2024 and #SecretNinja2024 as tags for this event! That’s all! If you have any questions feel free to let me know, I tried to cover everything but I may have missed something!

[entelodante]

Wanted to expand on some domesticated animals of Mirum. These are basically cat-dog birds, ranging in size from cat to medium sized dog. Still need a name for group over all, suggestions appreciated! In depth info below the cut! 

1. The OG This is the wild ancestral form, basically the wolf to the dog. They are from the grass/shrub lands of Mirum and spend most of the year scrounging around for food until the end of the wet season. Once the floods are over they pop out babies like nobodies business while feeding on the debris left by the flooding. By the time fire season rolls around their numbers are pretty scarce. They travel in little groups with multiple hens and one big buff man! But this man does not necessarily need to be a male, or a bird even! They were the first species domesticated by the chimera and the only one to leave Mirum with them.  The ‘Natural’ Breeds These are just the morphs bred into these fellas without any magical manipulation involved, so they still look relatively close to their wild ancestors.  2. The Cupid  These are purely pets, originally kept just for eggs they lost that purpose as more efficient birds came around for that. Now they just make docile lil lapbirds. Though inattentive owners will find old eggs hidden throughout the house if they’re not careful. Most of the time though they tend to stay by their owners ankles.  3. The Ruff Fluffy lil guys who make for great pest control, they’re a very sporty breed despite everything and need a lot of energy to stop them from destroying their surroundings out of boredom. Will do well with another ruff or dog of similar size, though they can be a bit of a bully in the care of a lax owner. 4. The Gallop Literally just made for running, can keep up with a chimera at full sprint and at a normal long distance run. For those with a more active lifestyle. Though they will just as happily laze around all day, just happy to be included honestly. These are also the best swimmers of the natural breeds with their extra oily coat.  5. The Dome This is a purely ornamental bird, stocky and colorful they are the most relaxed of all the birds. Most prefer chimeric company to that of other birds and have a habit of separation anxiety when not with their owner. In line with that, these are the most accepting of chimeric ‘talk’ with most quickly getting accustomed to projected commands. Though please don’t overwhelm your bird, casting the full range of sentient experience unto lesser beings CAN and WILL cause them existential distress! Not to mention your personality may displace your pet’s. 6. The Fluff  The original pillow stuffing. These guys feathers are softer than any other. Keeping a mostly downy ‘undercoat’ for their whole life. That being said these guys can get absolutely RANCID if not kept clean and tidy. Only for the most advanced and attentive of owners unless you want an unholy dingleberry beast skulking around. They also are VERY bitey.  7. Crested These are historically for eating, but have grown to be a very pish posh fancy breed. Most are pure white, thanks to inbreeding, and albeit are not the sharpest tools in the shed. But if you are looking for a bird who may just ignore your commands but love you eternal, this is your bird! 

That’s them so far, will make the magical monstrosities later. Also wanted to try a different lineart style. Thin is nice but I miss my chunky brush. Glad to have tried it though! 

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 11/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE

TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

                “A fishing boat?” Bradley asks, pulling a face. “Really?”

                “You said you wanted to be in the Navy. Are you scared of a little seasickness?”

                “No. I just…”

                “Understanding and appreciating our food, from where we harvest it, or take it, is all important. Learning what fresh really looks like is also very important when it come to fish and seafood hmm?”

                “Oh yeah, I guess that’s true,” Bradley says, thinking of Johan’s ability to look at fish and simply pick the best pieces.

                “Also a week in Greece is not the end of the world hmm?”

                “Okay, you deliberately made it sound like I was going on a fishing boat in the North Sea, not a… charter boat for a week in Greece.”

                “Hmm. You will earn your stay. But I think you will enjoy the change of scenery.”

                Bradley had no idea how Leandro knows him so well, but he finds himself the sole chef on a charter yacht for a group of six tourists. They’re American, and once they realize he’s also American they stop speaking slowly and loudly, chat happily to him while he cooks. He fishes and dives with them during the day, makes breakfasts and lunches and then cooks what they’ve caught that day. He doesn’t recognize any of them, but when the week ends a couple of them tip him heavily, even though he tries to insist there isn’t any need. Then one of them passes him a business card.

                “If you ever consider setting up shop back home, look me up. I’d be interested in supporting you. And eating more of your food.”

…            …            …

                “Holy shit. Bradley Bradshaw.”

                “Yeah. Hello again…”

                “You’ve met already?” Jake asks, looking between Bradley and who must be his sister. She’s maybe a few years older, hair the same color but longer, tied back in a plait. Bradley finds himself automatically nodding, although he’s also hoping that her surprise is that he’s at her front door, and not because she’s starstruck. She hadn’t seemed at all perturbed when he’d met her on Saturday with the film crew trailing him. Turning up with her brother shouldn’t be any more alarming, surely?

                “Yeah, at the Farmers Market in the weekend,” Bradley starts. “I tried the chili jam, it was really good. Bought a few jars.”

                “Oh cool. Well, then I don’t need to introduce you. Well, her name is Maria if you need a reminder. I call him Leo because Bradley Bradshaw sounds made up.”

                He’s glad Jake has provided a name, and he notes Maria’s eyebrows shoot up and god, he’s been enjoying Jake’s complete disregard for Bradley’s fame, whether it’s real or contrived he doesn’t care. He doesn’t think Jake would care, if he did know, but it’s also really nice not having any expectations put on him from the person he’s with. The last few days have been great, reminding him of his younger years in Europe.

                “Leo is the name my Italian family call me. Short for Leonardo.”

                “I definitely prefer Leo,” Jake says, grinning at him and he follows his lead in taking his shoes off, putting the bags of ingredients and previous iterations of sauce down. “Keep forgetting your name is actually Bradley Bradshaw…”

                Maria makes a high-pitched sound Bradley can only guess is a choked off laugh and he grimaces and shrugs his shoulders, tries to convey that he’s doing the best he can and Maria is just looking at him and shaking her head, her eyes wide as she looks between him and her brother.

                “Um, yeah, okay, hi again. Jake said you were after some help with… tasting things. Right. You’ve been… trying to feed him,” Maria says, now looking at Jake. “Wow…”

                “Yeah. He’s pretty decent. Not as good as grandma, or even you or Olivia, but he hasn’t killed me yet.”

                Bradley clenches his jaw to stop himself from laughing outright, his eyes not leaving Maria’s face, and she looks equal parts mortified but also like she’s also trying not to laugh again. She makes a little high-pitched sound and Bradley has to pretend to cough as a burst of laughter makes its way out. She definitely knows who he is, had known on Saturday when he’d been walking around with the film crew but she’d been very chilled and laid back, hadn’t even asked for a selfie.

                “What chores need doing? I can go and do whatever it was you were planning on doing and instead you can help Leo with his new recipe… I like your cooking, but I am kind of over tasting the same thing over and over and you expecting me to be able to taste the difference,” he says to Bradley. Bradley looks back at Maria who has covered her mouth with both her hands and closed her eyes, had her head tilted back like she’s hoping the ceiling has answers.

                “Thank you, I’ll try my best not to poison your sister…”

                “Oh god…” Maria says from behind her hands.

                “Thanks. Appreciate it. Maria, you okay?”

                Maria wipes at her eyes, waves away Jake’s concerns saying it’s the pollen making them itch and hands Jake a piece of paper with writing on it and he tucks it into his pocket.

                “I’ll be back.”

                Then he’s kissing him, his thigh slotting between Bradley’s and he finds himself almost being dipped and he knows he’s flushing bright red, wonders if that was Jake’s whole aim, trying to embarrass him. It’s over quickly, although he’s not sure if that is a good thing or not.

                “Don’t be mean,” Jake says to Maria, and then he’s tugging boots on, grabbing the same cowboy hat Bradley remembers him wearing on Saturday.

                “When am I ever mean?”

                “Only every day of my life,” Jake says with a grin, but then he’s tipping the hat and Bradley bites his lip as he watches him stride back outside. Hmm.

                “So, you’re Leo. I had no idea he was bringing you around.”

                A little reluctantly he stops watching Jake stride off, and he turns to find Maris watching him, eyes amused and he smiles.

                “Yeah. I gathered he hadn’t told you when you said holy shit first thing when you opened the door. He and I met years ago, in Italy. He said he told his sister?”

                At that Maria’s lips twitch and Bradley starts feeling a little uneasy.

                “Did he say which one?”

                “Uh. No?”

                “Has he mentioned exactly how many sisters he has?” Maria asks, and she’s folding her arms and leaning back, watching him and Bradley feels like he’s being tested. That’s fine. If he can survive the Gallo family he can survive Jake’s sisters. Why he feels like he needs to survive or befriend Jake’s sister isn’t something he’s going to examine too closely but… he likes to think he’s a nice guy when he isn’t stressed out.

                “Not exactly? But… three? I mean, I know he’s the youngest. And there’s a sister with kids because he babysat them on Monday night.”

                “Sandra.”

                “And then his sister who he told about meeting me in Italy? And that isn’t you?”

                “Hmm. He only told me about meeting you in Italy on Sunday, so… it was probably Nicola when it happened originally.”

                “Okay. So. Jake just mentioned an Olivia, so… four? That’s my best guess. Four.”

                He can’t even imagine having four older sisters, having Violet is bad enough, although he calls her cousin he sometimes wonders how much closer they’d be if they were actually siblings. She’s his best friend.

                “Nope. Five. You’re missing Amanda. She’s Nicola’s twin.”

                “Five sisters. Holy shit.”

                “What about you? Big family?”

                “No. All the stuff about me losing both my parents is true. I’ve got a big Italian family that informally adopted me though…”

                “So he met you, and you bumped into each other on Saturday and now you’re…”

                She doesn’t finish the sentence and he’s grateful, although the look she gives him clearly spells out exactly what she’s thinking. She grabs some of the bags at his feet and jerks her head for him to follow her.

                “So you’ve told him your name, he’s just…Oh my god… he has no idea who you are.”

                “You think so? I kind of like it,” Bradley admits and Maria’s shaking her head.

                “Oh, he’ll have no idea. He’s smart, but he’s also fucking oblivious. Also I’m judging you. He adds sauce to nearly everything…”

                “Yeah. I’ve noticed.”

                “Well, he had really bad reflux as a baby. Like… he needed an operation to fix it type bad. He was such a picky eater as a kid, drove us mad. We got around it by pretty much putting sauce on everything.”

                “Oh…” Bradley murmurs, and he’d wondered. He sets out the ingredients and the little containers of sauce saved from his previous attempts.

                “Yeah. Obviously he’s an adult now, he doesn’t have to add sauce, but if he has the choice?”

                “On it goes. Right. Okay…”

                “Yeah. You okay with that?”

                “Of course. He’s not making me eat it. I’m not…” he shrugs helplessly, wants to try and say he’s not the uptight and angry chef that that TV producers like to portray him as. Sure he has a temper, but it’s definitely not as bad or as frequent as they make it seem. He also knows he's got something of a resting bitch-face. At least that's what Vi calls it.

                “Hmm. Thought so. Anyway, Jake doesn’t cook. He’d never watch a cooking show. Doesn’t like reality TV at all… If you wanted to keep it on the downlow you could. I don’t think he’d accidentally stumble across you. And I can keep my mouth shut.”

                “I don’t want to keep it a secret from him or anything. He knows it’s my job. And he knows my name…”

                “Okay. So… not to be super crude but you’re just, uh, hooking up right?”

                “I mean… yeah.”

                “Well. If you decide you want something more than hooking up with him, you’re going to have to spell it out, be really obvious. More obvious than you think you need to be. And I have an idea for showing just how oblivious he can potentially be…”

TWELVE

[franki-lew-yo]

ALL my feelings towards Friendship is Magic could be so easily summed up as:

" -Twilight Sparkle should never have become an alicorn princess in season 3 of a series with 9 seasons - ''

She should have always had it in the books to eventually become an alicorn, but her becoming one in season 3 is where literally all (my own) problems with the show stem from and almost all of those problems are about the show in execution, NOT in theory. 

Everything about later seasons Friendship is Magic’s writing reeks of the writers trying to make their ideas, fan ideas, and Hasbro’s ideas work all at the same time with so little time. They were told to make Equestria Girls, Princess Twilight, Flurry Heart and the movie “work” while also juggling writing in Starlight and her whole arc (and the characters attached, like Sunburst), the CMC getting their cutie marks, the reformed changelings, griffons and dragons, their Starswirl the Bearded stuff; WHILE ALSO making sure Discord and the Princesses (mostly Luna) and the ‘fan fav’ characters worked on their own and come together.

In my opinion, it just didn’t.

There was always too much going on with little to no time to breathe or appreciate the characters -how far they’ve come, how much further they have to go- at all. And it made later bit of lore and characters feel frustrating. It made potentially great characters deeply unlikable. Starlight and Discord are the biggest victims.

I want to like them. I really do. I can’t though because Starlight is not only a ‘madeawittlemistake’(aka ran a cult)-villain redemption, BUT she has to share her stories with the main six. They underdeveloped her while also trying to make her important and it just made me dislike Starlight and Twilight so much. It made me get mad at Starlight for being in the way of a Twilight episode, it made me wanna scream at Twilight for getting in the way of what should be Starlight’s time to shine!

Discord now had to share his ‘redeemed baddie’ spotlight with Starlight and others meant he had no time for his development which, when it was done* (ALL of Season 4) was abysmally fast, badly paced and in my view insulting. It made Discord, even in episodes where he had a point to be there, feel useless because fundamentally was overall. Season 4 assassinated Discord’s character to me and I didn’t remotely like him. For years I thought I just didn’t like FiM simply because the show and the fandom clearly preferred Fluttercord to Dislestia and I was just butthurt. Which, to be clear, I am. My mega revelation regarding this show was realizing that, no- what I hated wasn’t Fluttercord, it was Discord himself. How he was being handled, how he was written from s4 onward (ALL THE EPISODES WHERE HE’S YANDRE TO FLUTTERSHY SHOULD HAVE BEEN BEFORE HIS BETRAYAL. ALL OF THEM. NO YOU WILL NOT CHANGE MY MIND IT’S FINAL) pissed me off so much as a person who really loved his potential character in season 2 and 3. Discord and Fluttershy being besties and possibly more could and should have been adorable...but it wasn't because the Discord we got was a horrid character. Fluttershy deserves better.

I know you guys don’t wanna hear this same old worn-out critique about FiM, but I’m sorry I have to agree: when they weren’t being crowbarred into stuff that didn’t need their stories, Starlight and Discord were both forgiven -by the show- WAAY too soon. The problem wasn’t that they had redemption arcs and/or that other characters didn’t. The problem was their redemptions were badly done. The show didn’t treat them like they had been redeemed from something hurtful, it acted like they had never done anything wrong. And that was bad because it made it so, when the three baddies at the end of the series were officially crowned "irredeemable", the show felt biased. It felt mean spirited towards Tirek, Chrysalis and Cozy when their end should have actually felt fitting and funny. It’s not about ‘morals’ or ‘punishing’ fictional cartoon horses voiced by John DeLancie for warcrimes or whatever tf Lily Orchard goes on about-- it’s about how the show FELT LIKE IT FAVORED some characters more than others. That was a thing that I loved Friendship is Magic for not doing in seasons 1-3, what made it and it’s character’s endearing and wholesome to me, and it’s why the handling of the main cast in later seasons felt so mean.

But to get back to the alicorn in the room; Twilight could have graduated or something for season 3 and then the whole show could build up to her actually outdoing Starswirl’s wrongs as she does in the pony of shadows plot. THAT could have been her ‘upgraded to alicorn princess moment’; but it didn’t. As much as I wish it were that way, it isn’t and that’s not what the writer’s did because they didn’t have the time or foresight for that. Sadly, even though lots of flaws and problems were always baked into the loaf from the start (Celestia being useless or 'sinister', ponies being racist towards everything else, bad and/or basic friendship lessons) Twilight becoming an alicorn princess, which DID ultimately change her character, her role and her presence even amongst her friends and the rest of Ponyville, was the start of all the problems.

We’re stuck with what we got and what we got was a series that -to me- only ever kept adding more and MORE until it felt overstuffed, hectic, and unfortunately mean spirited when it wasn’t trying to be. There’s nothing we can do now. Personally, I highkey am annoyed at other adult bronies saying I “didn’t get” the show and its decisions which is why I didn’t like it. No. Trust me I get “it”; the problem is that “it” wasn’t well done which is why I didn’t like “it”. “It” deserved better.

Of course, I also get some of why those bronies are so defensive. After all I was there when the whole 'Twilight becoming a Princess'-controversy happened. I remember how ugly it got and how annoying and entitled you guys were about it and Equestria Girls' existence (don't even get me started on ur #savederpy).

Something I want to make especially clear whenever I criticize writers, especially of kids shows, is that a criticism IS NOT an attack. Ever. Boycotts and callouts should be reserved for stuff that's actually morally wrong and yes they also count for stuff I like, not just stuff I want to be mad at. Lookin at you, Didney.

There was never and still is never a reason to bother, hurt or ask the writers for MLP gen 4 why they did what they did. No, not even if you're being 'friendly' about it. Leave M.A. Larson alone.

Granted, fans being entitled to creator's attention and creator's being entitled to fans' affection is it's own rabbit hole, but I truly think that FiM set an ugly standard for that with animated shows today.

Besides still being too thin skinned and not liking that a thing they've divested so much real life time into could be bad, a thing about cartoon commentary and criticism in the 2010s-2020s is they're really parasocial and demanding of writers and artists behind a show. The was always the biggest, ugliest, most uncomfortable aspect of Friendship is Magic to me: because it's creators were online and fans knew they were listening, could approve of fan's creations, and especially because they felt 'responsible' for a show's success, they were really into @ing writers about everything. When critics would call something out for being badly written it somehow always made it's way into becoming a personal accusatory thing. People were blaming writers for being human and working within time constraints and network decisions. You didn't have to be like that TinyToons guy who stalked Tress MacNeille about sexualizing Fifi in the 90s to be a harasser. You could just be an aggressively oversupporting 'stan' or angry nitpicking critic to make a writer who's just doing their job, uncomfortable

tl;dr: I disliked the writing of the later Friendship is Magic. I think it was bad because it was bad. None of that is meant as an attack on the writers who were trying their best and don't need to be roped into any fandom nonsense, positive or negative, and never should have been in the first place.

Hopefully, that's one deadhorse finally beaten.

[buttercupjosh]

Nothing to Be Scared Of

(Gif credit to @corbincarroll)

Word count: 2,594

Genres: strangers to friends to lovers, fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: This story is based off of the songs “Nothing To Be Scared Of" by Kacey Musgraves (which is where the title came from) and I make references to "Dinner With Friends" by Kacey Musgraves, and "Anime Eyes" by Kacey Musgraves. I highly recommend listening to these songs before reading my story. It’s not set at a specific moment in time (It’s taking place in a fictional future but you could also say that it’s set this upcoming season. However, the 2024-25 season hasn't happened yet and anything can happen or change so don’t hold me to what occurs in the fic and if things do change in real life, I’m not going to update this fic to reflect that). It’s written with a female reader in mind because I’m a female of color but the reader doesn’t specifically have to be a POC or a woman and there’s little dialogue. As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌

(P.S. I have other stories (linked here) that I have written for other players as well if you want to check it out)

“Please don’t let me regret opening up that part of myself that I’ve been scared to give again. Be good to me and I’ll be good to you but please don’t be too good to be true.” -Too Good To Be True by Kacey Musgraves

Romantic love was one of those things that had never been on your side. Throughout life, you always had unrequited crushes that never worked out and it was very rare that someone else had a crush on you. The one time you actually dated someone and opened up your heart to them romantically, it ended up failing. On the outside, your ex was a decent guy on paper but behind the scenes, he was someone who shifted into a very toxic person. The final straw came when he got a job offer that moved him away and he broke up with you because he didn’t want to be with you anymore. Since that experience, your heart had been wrapped in bubble wrap, filled with the fear that someone was going to break it again.

As expected, you had your walls up about falling in love with someone new but that started to change when you met Jamie. Your job as a realtor is what connected you to him; you were unofficially known as the team realtor for the Phillies, Flyers, and Eagles since most of your client base consisted of players and their families from those teams and you were one of the few realtors who was licensed in both Pennsylvania and New Jersey. After his first partial season in Philadelphia, Jamie was looking for a new place to live so you helped him find his new home. The reason why Jamie was moving was because Cam wanted his long-term girlfriend to move in with him and Jamie wasn’t interested in living with Joel and Morgan at their place either. Due to his age, he didn’t want to live with an older veteran on the team and their family or to reside in the suburbs. Jamie also felt like he needed a change during this new chapter of his life so he decided to live alone for the first time in his entire life. 

On a Saturday afternoon before the season started, you met up with Jamie to show him one of the places you found. The penthouse was very nice and in a neighborhood he liked but Jamie didn’t like the kitchen layout so your quest to find him the best place to live continued. You kept in a lot of contact with Jamie, trying to match his preferences the best you could and also show him places where he could compromise on certain things. After lots of meetings and searching, you found the perfect place for him in the Rittenhouse Square area. Jamie was very thankful for your services and with the time you spent together, he became very appreciative of who you are as a person. You rarely saw your clients again after helping them out but you would see Jamie again sooner than expected.

————————————————————

One evening, your phone rang in the middle of the night and surprisingly, it was Jamie calling. You picked up and his voice sounded different. Of course, Jamie knew what he was getting into when choosing to live alone but it still didn’t make the feeling of loneliness on his first night by himself at his new place go away. He couldn’t sleep at all because his mind was racing and he just needed someone to talk to; Jamie could have called his parents or his brother, Charlie, or one of his teammates or old friends back home but instead, he chose you. Listening to Jamie on the phone made your heart ache a little and you just wanted to hug him to calm him down so you took the last SEPTA train to go comfort him at his apartment. He didn’t ask you to come over but you went over there out of the kindness of your heart. Once you arrived, you engulfed Jamie in that much-needed hug and all of that anxiety that was plaguing him at the moment began to slowly wash away. Neither of you could sleep so you talked to each other for hours about different things, learning more and more about each other, until you fell asleep on his couch. Instead of leaving you sleeping on his couch, Jamie tenderly picked you up and placed you into his bed. You woke up the following morning in a bed that wasn’t yours and found Jamie sleeping on the couch.

As time went on, you developed a friendship together and your hearts were quietly growing fond of each other. You spent a lot of time together, going back and forth from each other’s places and hanging out in public. On nights that he couldn’t sleep, Jamie would sometimes call you and you would have deep conversations that would go on way into the night, most of the time falling asleep on the phone together. Sure, those calls would leave you both exhausted the following day but that was your special thing and you would always pick up whenever he called. You trusted each other; Jamie told you about his past relationships in California and back in Canada and you opened up about your previous relationship but your past hurt made you very guarded with Jamie. It was almost like you were always waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under you about him or waiting for Jamie to switch up the good guy act on you like how your ex did but that never happened.

————————————————————

Your birthday happened to land on a Flyers game day and thankfully, that game was a matinee game so you had plenty of time to enjoy the rest of your special day. As a gift, Jamie got you and a friend glass tickets to watch the game. During one of the media timeouts, you noticed that your name was on the scoreboard, wishing you a happy birthday; it was a nice birthday surprise. The rest of the game went nicely and the Flyers won.

To celebrate your birthday, you had an amazing dinner with some of your friends at Fiorella and Jamie offered to bring the cake. All Jamie told you was that you had to trust him and he showed up at the restaurant with a large pink cake that was covered in layers and ruffles of your favorite color. He also revealed to you that he was behind the scoreboard message. You knew that Jamie was a kind guy but the kindness he showed to you definitely took the cake.

After your birthday, Jamie’s 200th career game was approaching and you pulled out all of the stops to celebrate this milestone for him. It wasn’t a huge moment to some but it had taken a lot to get to that point. You snuck into Jamie’s apartment and decorated the place with balloons and streamers while he was away at morning skate. When Jamie returned to his apartment, you were gone but he knew in his heart that you were the only one who could have done this for him. To add to the surprises, you showed up at the game with a handmade sign, acknowledging his accomplishment. Jamie’s heart warmed when he saw you, banging on the glass to get his attention to look at what you made and he tossed you a puck. Jamie texted you to not throw away the sign because it was special to him and he wanted to keep it. After the game, you went back to Jamie’s apartment and shared a small cake with him; it didn’t matter that Torts would bag skate him if he found out that Jamie was eating sweets during the season but all that mattered was that he was sharing it with you.

————————————————————

Not long after his 200th game, it was that time of the year for the building where Jamie lived to do their seasonal pest control. He needed to be out of his apartment for a few hours for the work to be done and for the smell to dissipate so you suggested going out mini golfing at Puttshack. The game combined mini golf and trivia; Jamie was good at the golfing part and you were good at the trivia part. The game itself was way more fun because Jamie would get certain trivia questions wrong but you weren’t the best at putting the golf ball and you both jokingly teased each other about your skill sets during the game.

After Puttshack, you both wanted your time together to continue so you invited Jamie over to your place to continue hanging out. As usual, you ordered food and talked. The conversation somehow shifted to movies and you found out that Jamie had never seen a Studio Ghibli movie before so you ended up showing him some of your favorite films. While observing Howl and Sophie’s relationship dynamic, Jamie realized something very important. On one end of the sofa, you were captivated watching the movie but on the other side, Jamie wasn’t focused on what was going on, on the screen. He was too busy looking over at you through his anime eyes and a million little stars started to burst in his heart. You didn’t know it then but you would learn that he had always looked at you that way. He couldn’t say it out loud yet but Jamie was in love.

————————————————————

In a series of extremely convenient events, your mom came to Philly for a week-long work conference and Jamie’s mother, Tina, was also in town for the Flyers’ annual Mom’s Trip. Both of your moms got to observe your friendship firsthand. You liked Tina and Jamie liked your mom and both of your moms liked each other. While they were away, Tina and Jamie talked about you and she encouraged her son to pursue you. Jamie knew about your past relationship pain and it made him uncertain about whether or not to tell you his true feelings. Meanwhile, you took your mom to the airport after her conference concluded and before leaving, she imparted some motherly wisdom onto you.

“Honey, Jamie is a really nice guy and I like him for you. I know you were scarred by He Who Shall Not Be Named but you should think about opening your heart again to love”, your mother said to you.

You respectfully brushed aside her words. Jamie was a really good friend and person that anyone else would be grateful to have in their lives and you were happy that he was a part of yours. Over time, people speculated that you and Jamie were dating because of how you treated each other and the amount of time you spent together but he never formally asked you out and you weren’t sure if he had liked you romantically or just as a friend. Despite how things appeared, you remained cautious about being in love again so you strictly kept your boundaries with Jamie as friends. However, that was all going to change.

————————————————————

One early morning after spending the night on the air mattress that Jamie bought for you to sleep on whenever you slept over, you woke up early without trying and couldn’t fall back asleep so you decided to watch the sunrise. As you gazed at the Philadelphia skyline from the rooftop, it hit you; you were in love with Jamie.

It was the shape of Jamie’s blue eyes and the shape of his nose. It was the cute way he mispronounced certain words the Canadian way and also the smell of his clothes that filled your nose whenever you hugged him. It was the shape of Jamie’s heart and his kindness. It was the familiarity of taking your shoes off and leaving them by the door every time you went to his apartment. Jamie loved you in all of the ways that you never felt love before.

You were so uneasy about falling in love again because you didn’t want to get hurt again but with Jamie, something just felt so different. He was the only one you wanted to give your love to and Jamie taught you there was nothing to be scared of about being in love. You could drop your baggage of hurt and he would help you unpack them and you would do the same for him. You were so consumed by emotion and a familiar voice startled you to ask if you were okay.

“Yeah, I’m fine but how did you know that I was up here? I thought you were asleep”, you replied.

“I got up to use the bathroom and every time I do whenever you sleep over, I always check on you. I knew you were here because I come up here sometimes to watch the sunrise or the sunset and I know that you love those colors”, Jamie said as he poked your side.

Hearing Jamie say the word love made your heart beat faster and faster. He looked over at you and could sense a shift in you.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want to go back inside?” Jamie concernedly asked. 

“Jamie, I have something to tell you and promise me that you won’t freak out”, you told him.

“What are you going to say that you’re in love with me? If so, I’m in love too with the beautiful person right in front of me”, Jamie confessed with a cheesy smile and the biggest blush on his face.

He took the words right out of your mouth but that didn’t make the anxiety you felt go away.

“Jamie, I love you too but I’m scared. What if we don’t work out? What if you fall out of love with me? What if this is all too good to be true? What if -?” you rambled.

“Y/n, honestly, I’ve been scared this whole time too. When I got traded from Anaheim to here, I was super terrified of this massive change. I didn’t plan on falling in love when I moved here because my future’s so uncertain at the moment and I swore I was going to be single until my next contract but then I met you. You’ve added so much to my life and I’m thankful to have you as a part of it. I know you’re afraid but Y/n, if it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out. All that matters is that I love you right now and I’ll love you for as long as I can. Would you be willing to take that risk with me?”, Jamie asked.

Before meeting Jamie, you almost gave up on romantic love for good but he showed you how to love without having to try so hard because he loved you for being yourself. Jamie was like a train that was only meant for you and he wouldn’t leave the station without you. That bubble wrap that was wrapped around your heart was peeling off and you just had to continue to trust that it was all going to be okay. Even if things were to change, like all things in life, you would learn from it. You had both believed that you were placed into each other’s lives for a reason. If being in love with each other was what dreams were made of, neither of you wanted to wake up. Wrapped in a tender embrace with his arms around you and sharing a sweet kiss, the two of you watched the sun fully rise together. It was officially the start of a brand new sunny day and also the start of a new romantic relationship between you and Jamie.

[whateverisbeautiful]

So I'm kind of a new-ish Richonne fan who only watched TWD this year and kind of binged it at that so it felt like to me the whole Jessie situation kind of interrupted a natural flow of turning Rick and Michonne's relationship from platonic to romantic. Like I get that it was supposed to be "oh, I like this person" moment on the couch but I think I would have preferred if they at least didn't include Jessie at all. Do you think that arc was necessary at all? Or do you think the lead up to Rick and Michonne's first kiss could have been better handled?

Hearing that people are experiencing TWD and Richonne for the first time this year makes me happy. 😊 Glad you're here! I too would have preferred if the Rick and Jessie arc wasn’t included at all and I wrote out more of my take on these questions below (that somehow ended up being essay-length again 😅) ⬇️💗:

The stuff between Rick and Jessie is one of my least favorite storylines in the franchise and really didn’t feel necessary imo. I remember even when I was watching seasons 5/6 live and hadn’t yet realized that Rick and Michonne were meant to be together, I found Rick and Jessie’s storyline to be forced and like it was taking Rick in an unnatural direction all for the sake of honoring the comics. And then after going back and seeing how Rick and Michonne were so obviously on the trajectory to becoming a couple pre-canon, the Rick and Jessie storyline worked even less. Especially after The Distance (5.11).

It’s like they wanted to do a Comic Rick storyline with a TV Rick that had already fallen for Michonne so the whole thing ends up feeling off and hamfisted in. Especially because any time Rick and Michonne had scenes together during that arc it was clear that the love and attraction between them was still very much alive and not being put on pause at all to accommodate the Jessie storyline. I always love seeing how Andy still played Rick as a man whose heart had already been captured by Michonne. 

To me, Rick could have still been involved in the Anderson situation and had it contribute to his spiral without having that added romantic interest included. Like he’s convinced Alexandria can’t be as safe as it seems and then he learns Pete is abusive and that confirms Rick’s heightened suspicions about the place and makes him hellbent on fixing the situation or something.

I’ve seen some argue that Rick needed to go through that stuff with Jessie for his heart to be fully ready for Michonne but I’ve personally always disagreed with that take. While Jessie’s presence led Rick to finally have to confront some buried baggage regarding Lori, I don’t think Jessie was needed to aid Rick and Michonne’s love at all. Even tho it was still deep in their heart, Rick and Michonne had already fallen in love with each other before they even walked through the gates of ASZ. And I think all they really needed was just time to breathe and for the world to finally slow down and stabilize a bit for their feelings to be realized and acted on. Once they could enjoy a stretch of normalcy without having to be so on edge, one of the first things they did was make their feelings known.

When it comes to the lead-up to Richonne’s first kiss, I do always feel that in an ideal world, the Jessie stuff could have just been cut entirely or at least wrapped up a whole lot quicker and that time could be spent showcasing more of the buildup between Rick and Michonne finally being ready to take the next step in their relationship. However, something I always appreciate about their canon ep 6.10 is that the second we see Rick and Michonne together that morning, living this comfortable, happy, domestic life together, whatever else happened before just instantly falls to the wayside as it becomes so undeniable that this is always where their hearts were leading them and always who they were meant to be with. 👌🏽

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

congrats on 450!! I've just gotten back into my star wars hyperfixation, tis the season I suppose, and your fics have been LIFE SAVERS and so I am here to congratulate you on an incredibly well earned celebration! and to request:

7. "you're not as bad as everyone says."

28. "maybe there's a universe your there where we're friends."

with either Wolfe or Cody x fem/gender neutral (whichever you prefer)?

Thank you so much and congrats again!!! <3

Awww @hxad-ovxr-hxart that's so sweet. I'm so glad my fics have helped. That makes me so happy, and I hope you'll like the fic. I wrote with Wolffe in mind. Enjoy.

Love oo,

Friends

Warnings: Crashing, angst, death, fluff, comfort, I think that's it. If I miss anything please let me know.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Commander Wolffe was never a man who suffered fools, he didn’t appreciate tardiness, he hated chit chat, and worst of all he hated personal questions. And somehow you managed to do all four on your first day on the Triumphant, which made you public enemy number one in Wolffe’s book. 

Every day you saw him, he simply rolled his eyes and growled each time you passed. 

You tried your best to fix it, but no matter what you did or said, it didn’t make a difference. You gave up after months of constant growls and eye rolls. Now you simply made a point to arrive on time for your shift as a communication specialist. You performed your role to the best of your ability, and did your best to stay out of his way. 

Things were going well, that was until your shuttle crashed, and the two of you were the only survivors. 

“Anything broken?” Wolffe asked after he checked on the two pilots and made his way over to you.

You shook your head, “No. I think …” you tested out each of your limbs, “I think I’m alright” you groaned as you tried to stand.

“Easy. Here,” he held out his hand to help you up, “alright?”

You nodded and followed him out of the crashed gunship, “Hmm… where are we?” You looked around trying to become aware of your surroundings.

“We dropped out of hyperspace somewhere in between, the Triumphant and our destination. Don’t worry they’ll come for us, I sent out a distress beacon.”

“How long do you think we’ll be here?”

“A day or two… maybe a week.” He went into the ship, and grabbed the emergency gear, passing one backpack to you and keeping one himself. 

“Are we going somewhere?”

“To a more defensible position, we don’t wanna be out here in case there’s Separatist droids nearby or in case there are any dangerous animals.”

You nodded and followed him, keeping pace as best you could. It was about three hours later, when you were panting and gasping for breath, “Wait … Commander, please I … I need a break.” You leaned against a boulder. 

“Alright …” Wolffe nodded, “take a break, we can rest for a minute.”

You nodded, thanking him, as you took a break, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, you’re a civilian. You’re not used to this.”

You looked up at him as you regained your breath and took a sip of water, “You know, you’re not as bad as everyone says you are.”

Wolffe, let out a laugh, “And how bad does everyone say I am?”

“That you have a short temper, you don’t suffer fools, you don’t like civilians really…”

He turned to look at you, “Really?” You simply nodded your answer, “I wouldn’t say I don’t like civilians, I’d say … civilians don’t appreciate the sacrifices me and my brothers make.”

“I know” you answered solemnly, “I’ve heard them, when I walk around Coruscant. I’m sorry. It’s not right or fair.”

“My life has never been really fair. But, thank you.”

You stood brushing off your pants, “I’m good, we can continue.”

Wolffe simply nodded as he led the way to a cave that would provide the right shelter, he set up a defensive perimeter, while you started a fire, when you were finished he came and sat beside you nodding at your achievement. 

“Good job, didn’t think civilians knew how to start a fire”

“Well I did take basic survival training, when I first joined the GAR.”

“Impressive.” He took off his helmet and his gloves, keeping the comm alert on high in case the rescue team was trying to get a hold of them.

“Commander” you looked into the fire, lost in thought, “Do you think maybe there's a universe out there where we're friends?”

“I don’t know” Wolffe answered as he kept his own gaze on the fire, “but I can tell you, you gained a friend today.” He smirked as he looked at you, “Listen, I don’t know what I ever did to make you think I hate you, civvie. But I don’t. I am actually impressed by you. It’s not easy joining the GAR to begin with, not as a civilian, certainly not as a woman, but you continue to work harder than everyone else. You’re prompt with your reports and always pleasant with your co-workers. I’ve heard nothing but praise from everyone you work with, and even today, you put up with a lot, with barely a complaint. That’s impressive.”

You tried to hide the smile that wanted to creep on to your face, “Thank you, Commander.”

“Wolffe.”

“I’m sorry?”

“When it’s just us, you can call me Wolffe. After all, we’re friends, right?”

“That’s right … Wolffe.”

He didn’t know why but hearing you say his name, brought a smile to his lips. “Close your eyes and try to sleep” he motioned to the ground, “I’ll keep watch. You’ll be safe.”

You nodded and leaned down against the ground resting your head on the backpack, wrapping the emergency blanket around you to stay warm. “Wolffe, do you think someone got our distress signal?”

“Don’t worry civvie, Plo’buir isn’t about to leave us behind.” He looked after you and smiled, “Just relax, and close your eyes. It’ll be okay.”

You nodded, closing your eyes, “Thank you, Wolffe”

“For?”

“For being my friend,” your voice trailed off as the exhaustion from the crash, the hike, and just the anxiety of the day pulled you under. Soon enough you were snoring. 

Wolffe smiled as he watched you sleep, his heart fluttering as he took in your features. He always wondered why you had kept your distance from him, but to think you thought he hated you, made his heart hurt. It was so far from the truth. However, it was too soon to point that out. Instead, for now, he’d be your friend, and hope that in the future, your friendship could progress to something more. Maybe one day. 

“Goodnight, cyar’ika. Sweet dreams.” He whispered as he put his helmet back on and kept his blaster on his lap, keeping guard, making it his job to protect you. 

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

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[omarera]

Below is a long text. The reason I share this is that I think the article below gives a great insight into Swedish culture and debate climate and views of celebrities taking stands in political issues. I think it is a good to read for those who demand the Swedish cast to actively speak out on different political issues.

It also touches upon Sigge and Alex podcast. I am frustrated to see the polarization and cancel culture and also the narrative of Sigge as a Zionist based on that he followed some Insta accounts. And also Edvin and Felicia being labeled Zionists by association. Maybe the article can give some perspectives.

Sigge Eklund is a provocative person, and his and Alex Schulman’s pod is both popular and controversial. You kind of either love them or hate them, or both. They are both authors, both outspoken what I would call leftists, Alex for example write columns that are very leftist. They are also quite full of themselves and can be very condescending to others and also take ideas and concepts to extremes to prove points. Their takes are often debated. There is a bit of irony in that they have received criticism for not standing up for Israel and stated they were against Hamas attack and now Sigge also being accused of being a Zionists. Sigge is criticized from both sides.

With that said, below is a translation of an article from SvD, one of Swedens large morning papers. It discusses Swedes silence. It shows how celebrities that do speak up are treated in Sweden. Let’s just say they are shot down. Swedes don’t have a tradition of appreciating celebrities to speak up on subjects they are not fully educated on. It’s so easy to get lost. But also that we need to talk about but it’s so damn difficult.

The article below is from Nov 25th 2023. It’s also important to consider when reading it. I still think it showcase Swedish culture really well and our debate climate and view on celebs speaking up and how polarized and infected and hard the long ongoing Israel-Palestine conflict (now genocide) is for us to discuss.

link to article it’s probably locked for non-subscribers.

“That's why I keep quiet about the war"

During a dinner Björn Werner (the author of the article) was at recently, the question came up. The one that not only cuts through the public debate but is strong enough to tear apart friendships and social nets and relationships.

Alex Schulman's voice chokes with anxiety. He stabs himself. And stakes himself again.

"It freezes me now when I hear you're going to talk about it."

Now it must be done. Sigge Eklund has taken the plunge. They will talk about the ongoing war between Israel and Hamas.

It's fast. Just a few minutes. A gentle ripple in a podcast of over an hour. Like few others in public Sweden, the two men are otherwise always carefree open with what they think and feel. Bridges to important colleagues, friends and acquaintances are burned in every other episode. They do everything for the content. But not now.

It is at the very beginning of the war. Barely a week since Hamas kidnapped women, children and the elderly and brutally murdered 1,200 Israelis. Israel's intense bombing campaign has only been going on for a few days. Nevertheless, the Swedish debate about the Israel-Palestine conflict is so feverish that the two seasoned authors and media men prefer not to talk about it.

"I hardly think it can be done without arousing so much hatred that in the end it won't be worth it," Schulman continues.

Eklund basically agrees:

"I've really felt at a loss for words," he replies and goes on to explain that it's not because he doesn't have anything to say, but that he himself doesn't know exactly what he's going to say once he starts. The feelings are too strong.

It is, of course, easy to call the podduo cowards. That they want to wriggle out of this deeply polarized conflict without clashing with anyone – whether listeners or advertisers. But in that case they are not alone.

There are many who, for social and understandable reasons, avoid the question. The price of taking a stand can be very high. For one thing, what one says can be taken out of one's mouth and reshaped into something grotesque and ugly. For one thing, the risk of losing control over one's own emotions is great. Then it is easy to end up wrong. To say wrong.

An abyss you like to avoid thinking about and talking about, if you can.

During a dinner I attended recently, the question came up. Someone admitted that he "sympathizes with Israel's cause here." Another then raised his hand: "I don't agree with that, and I think we should leave it like that, so it will be nicer." The entire table nodded in agreement. Everyone exhaled. A similar dynamic exists in the group chats I'm in, which have morphed from lively, fun conversations to cautious, polite flirting. Everyone sees the dark clouds towering. Nobody wants to see the rain fall.

A lot of this depends, I think, on the complexity of the situation. The vast majority of people outside the Israel-Palestine conflict are touchingly in agreement that it is terrible for all innocent people to die, regardless of nationality. It is all the more difficult to navigate beyond this single, self-evident opinion. Because one needs to have one after all. In everything else it is more difficult. They are looking for a scapegoat. The violence can't just happen? It must be someone's fault. Demanding a ceasefire also leads to the natural follow-up question: and then?

In both the issue of guilt and in the conversation about the future, dangers lurk wherever you turn: those who rush forward without a map and compass risk quickly running into both anti-Semitic and Islamophobic cuts.

Not that it is necessarily easier for those who actually take the time to read up on the issue. Is it about a multi-thousand-year European oppression of Jews? That Arab leaders have consistently refused to accept Israel's existence since the UN proclaimed the state in 1948? Is it the fault of the many Jewish settlers who drove Palestinians from their homes? Arab countries that in turn expelled Jews from theirs? That Palestinians by both Israel and Arab countries are used as a real political playing cards? Netanyahu? Hamas? It's just a matter of choosing. Everything is right – at the same time.

Whatever you think, however educated you are, there is always a weighty opinion that speaks for the opposite of what you have come to.

The situation is bizarre. Despite the fact that there is a terrible conflict going on where innocent children are killed daily, it is therefore a socially viable, perhaps even wise, strategy to just keep quiet.

the public also has results on how it goes for those who speak first and think later. When 160 celebrities signed a petition to stop the bombing of Gaza, they came under fire for not showing the same commitment during Hamas' massacre of Israelis. Artist Stina Wollter's star now appears to be falling after she mixed up her commitment to Palestinian children with anti-Semitic conspiracy theories. And the competence of the Green Party's Märta Stenevis is being questioned because she liked Stina Wollter's (not entirely clear) apology.

It is quite unusual for external events to cut so deeply into interpersonal relationships. Not least in the consensus-seeking country Sweden, which is otherwise known for its lukewarm political temperament. While the 1968 movement in Paris led to street battles between students and police, the student movement in Stockholm occupied its own union building. When Sweden, after 200 years of non-alignment, joins NATO, everyone just sighs amicably. The war in Ukraine has, if anything, acted as a unifying force, where people from left to right could confidently state that the world in this particular case really is black and white.

But there is a force in the Israel-Palestine conflict that is strong enough to tear apart the social net and relationships. Partly because of the horrific images we are all exposed to, but also because of the historically deeply infected nature of the issue. It's all starting to resemble the climate of debate in Britain about Brexit, which went to such levels that the prestigious British etiquette magazine Tatler raised the topic as one of twelve things you absolutely should not talk about at the dinner table.

Anyone who puts their faith in the ability of public discourse to unravel complex events also has nothing to gain from the issue of Israel-Palestine. The ongoing debate has quickly degenerated into a hopeless meta-debate about who thinks the most "wrong". The amount of constructive, well-read and nuanced posts that have been put forward since Hamas's attack on Israel on October 7 and Israel's subsequent bombing of Gaza can be counted on the fingers of one hand. Expressen's Per Wirtén succeeds, through a combination of solid humanism and understanding of the matter, to tackle the subject in a dignified way. Another is SvD's Elaf Ali, who from his personal perspective testifies to the polarization in the Swedish debate.

But - the more texts are about things that could just as easily take place at a dinner with a lost footing. There and in social media, the waves are high. Are leftists anti-Semitic because they react more strongly to Israel's attacks than to Hamas? Are right-wing debaters really Islamophobes, because they so fervently defend Israel while at the same time advocating cooperation with the newly anti-Semitic SD?

Who is foolish enough to stick their head into this hornet's nest willingly?

Maybe Alex and Sigge are doing the only reasonable thing. Despite one's instincts screaming to react when news of dead children sweeps by, there is not much to say – because hardly anything can be said without being taken as revenue for something else. But the question is whether it is even possible to be silent. According to today's twisted logic, there is also something to be said.

Shortly after "Alex and Sigge's podcast" was published, the right-wing comedian Aron Flam responded to X (recently on Twitter): "So Alex Schulman cannot condemn murder, torture and rape? Hard to say anything about murdering women, young, old, pregnant, babies? Speaking. He who is otherwise so full of goodness.”

And it hasn't stopped there. In a later episode, both podcasts return to the consequences of not taking a stand. Their social media inboxes are overflowing with anger.

Swedes are one of the world's most educated peoples, and at least until very recently formally non-aligned. The majority have few personal connections to either the millennial suffering of Jews or the Palestinian people's quest for their own state formation.

If even a remote, frostbitten nation of newly urbanized farmers can't pull themselves together, who can? If even we can't talk to each other, then who can?