#i have only written one hundred words or so. but i am so excited for this

[aconfusedkitten]

I would like to hear about your latest ip3 au ✋

friend, this is a dangerous question :D

the latest au is definitely darker than anything else i've written for the three of them, and that's pretty clear even from what little i've written for it!

as for why it's so different: it immediately starts with diamond's death. or really, his murder, and as a result, topaz and aventurine leaving the ip3.

of course, none of it was planned, and ratio is very surprised to find his lovers -- one fully unconcious, and the other not far from it -- at his door in the middle night, saying they need to fucking run if they want to stay alive until morning.

basically, no one is having a good time, and the ip3 accidentally managed to surpass even the stellaron hunters' bounties.

[saistappen]

Special guest | MV1

In which Max pays a visit to a primary school class to answer a few questions before the Dutch gp

or

In which Max only has eyes for the young class teacher

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Today is a very special day. Your six-year-old pupils were particularly looking forward to this day.

The Zandvoort Grand Prix, which was not too far from the school, would take place at the weekend.

In a few minutes, a very special guest would be coming to your class - the lion class.

Over the last few days, you and your class have organised and prepared a lot to make your guest's time in class as pleasant as possible.

A satisfied smile sits firmly on your face as you walk through the rows of tables and put up the children's name tags you have made so that your guest can call them by name.

You then unfold the blackboard to reveal the colourfully painted greeting.

Written in orange chalk in the centre is the words Welcome Max Verstappen.

Your pupils have painted a few trophies around it, as well as chequered flags and racing cars.

A glance at the clock hanging above the classroom door tells you that it is about time for the first pupils to arrive.

Shortly afterwards, the first pupils enter your classroom with big smiles on their faces. Some of the children are already wearing fan merchandise.

After you have greeted each child with a quick hug, the rows of tables slowly start to fill up and an excited murmur goes round the room.

"Good morning my lions", you greet your class with a smile on your lips and a little chant of welcome comes back.

"As you know, we have a visitor coming in a few minutes. But before we get there, I'd like to go through a few things with you about how we're going to behave during this," you begin as you sit down on the edge of your desk and look around the room.

Yesterday you went through the rules for today with your protégés. It is important to you that everything runs smoothly and well today.

It's not a given that someone famous would take the time to answer questions in a class full of six-year-olds.

" Who can tell me the most important things to consider for today? "

Within a few seconds, countless hands shoot into the air.

Your gaze wanders briefly through the rows before you take a boy from your class, who lists all the rules to be observed for the next two lessons.

With a satisfied smile on your lips, you thank the boy and add a sentence or two, telling your charges that it's important that they don't talk out of turn and to please come forward if they want to ask Mr Verstappen a question.

You know that the class is pretty excited and probably not everything will go one hundred per cent, but despite all that, you're really confident that it will go well.

Some time passes, during which your class spends painting Max Boliden in bright colours, until there is a knock at the door of your classroom.

Countless heads go up and look over to the door with wide eyes, while one or two squeak out.

You can clearly see the nervousness slowly rising in each of them, even in you.

You wipe your slightly sweaty hands on your black jeans before a smile creeps back onto your lips and a "Come in" leaves your lips.

Shortly afterwards, the door opens and a smiling Max Verstappen steps into your classroom.

As he does every time there's a race weekend, he's wearing one of his team shirts and dark trousers.

"Good morning! "He beams as he enters the classroom and lets his gaze wander round the room.

"Good morning Mr Verstappen! "The class literally shouts in chorus, causing a proud smile to spread across your lips.

Point one has already been successful.

"Welcome to the lion class. I am Mrs y/l/n. I'm really pleased to welcome you here today," you greet the Dutchman and hold out your hand to him, which he shakes with a smile.

" I'm delighted to be here today. "

You notice how his eyes linger on you a little longer, so you clear your throat quietly and look back at your protégés, who are scrutinising Max curiously and whispering quietly.

"Look what we've painted for you! " shouts Leona, one of your students, pointing to the blackboard and presenting the colourful picture to Max.

"You drew this especially for me? That's really great! " Max steps a little closer to the board to take a closer look at the artwork.

"And we drew cars too! " shouts the next child and gets Max's attention.

"Did you design new liveries for special Grand Prix races? " Max begins to walk through the rows to take a closer look at the coloured-in cars.

He repeatedly takes time for each of the children to exchange a few sentences with them about their coloured pictures.

Smiling, you watch him and sit back on the edge of your desk.

A glance at the map next to you shows that Max will start by introducing himself and talking about his motorsport career. Afterwards, the children will ask a few questions and get autographs. Finally, there will be a little bobby car race in the schoolyard, where each child will compete against Max himself.

"You're all really great artists. I'll show my team your paintwork and I'm sure something can be done! " Max grins as he walks back to the blackboard with the pile of leaves.

Enthusiastic murmurs go through the class as Max begins to prepare for his little talk.

And shortly afterwards, he begins to tell your class, who are literally glued to his lips, about his motorsport career.

During Max's lecture, you sat in the back row to give Max enough space at the front of the blackboard.

His lecture was quite interesting, so now you know a lot more about the Dutchman.

The children had been so quiet throughout the lecture that you are really proud and shower the children with a little praise.

"And now we come to your questions. Now you can ask me anything you've always wanted to know. But think about your question carefully, because everyone is only allowed to ask me one. "

Max holds up his index finger to make it clear to the children that they are really only allowed to ask one question.

"Just one? How am I supposed to decide which question to ask? " Liana's sad voice sounded from the front, causing Max to start smiling.

" You'll manage that, Liana. Take some time to think of a good question," you reassure the little blonde-haired girl, whereupon Max gives you a grateful look.

" Who wants to start asking me a question? " As Max's gaze begins to wander around the class, countless little fingers are raised in the air.

One or two of them even start to kneel on the chair so that they can stick their finger higher in the air and be seen better by Max.

" Finn ", Max takes the first boy.

" Would you like to drive for Red Bull forever or for Mercedes or Ferrari? "

The Red Bull driver leans against your desk and rests his hands slightly to the right and left of him as he begins to think for a moment.

Your protégés look eagerly at their star and wait for an answer.

"I actually feel incredibly comfortable in my team and so far there's no reason for me to leave. I get on well with everyone in the team and we have a good working relationship so that everything runs as smoothly as it should. I'll never rule out a change, because you never know what's to come, but so far I can reassure you and tell you that I'm not considering a change. "

A sigh of relief goes through the class, which makes you grin.

In fact, most of your class are Max and Red Bull fans.

" Who is your favourite team colleague? " Joleen asks Max after he has taken her on.

"So far I've got on really well with all my team mates and we've all got on really well, but if I had to choose a team mate who I've got on best with, I'd say Daniel. The two of us not only get on particularly well in Formula 1, but also in our private lives. "

In fact, you've already guessed this answer, as you could always clearly see how well Max and Daniel got on and harmonised with each other.

You still mourn the time when Max and Daniel were team-mates. That time really was by far one of the funniest content times at Red Bull Racing.

A few more interesting questions were asked, which Max answered in detail, such as his favourite colour, which is blue, his favourite food, which was tomato soup and the question about his pets, Jimmy and Sassy two Bengals cats.

"Is there anyone else who hasn't asked me a question yet? " Max's gaze travelled around the class.

Even after answering countless questions, he still seemed pretty relaxed and happy.

"Mrs y/l/n hasn't asked a question yet," Johann takes the floor as all the children turn to look at you.

Max also leans a little more on the desk now as he leans forward to see you in the back row.

" Do you have a question for me? " he grins.

So you start going through all the possible questions that are floating around in your head.

There are a lot of things that would interest you, but they don't belong here right now, so you decide on the simplest question that any teacher would have asked.

" What was your favourite subject at school? "

" Oh, that's really easy! " Max grins and almost claps his hands. " Your teacher will probably rip my head off for this, but I never liked going to school. The only subject I liked was geography. What's your favourite subject? "

Countless voices start shouting their favourite subjects in confusion, which Max takes in his stride with a smile and somehow tries to catch every subject.

To restore some calm, you walk back to the front and start clapping a rhythm, which the children immediately follow and the class becomes quiet again.

A quiet " Wow " leaves Max's lips, who looks at you with fascination and makes the blush rise slightly in your cheeks.

"That's the best way to keep things quiet," you almost babble as you start to clear your desk to give Max a little more space for the upcoming autographs.

You had already cleared out your desk, so there were hardly any things on it. However, you now have to keep your hands busy to avoid blushing even more or doing something stupid.

" Please line up to get an autograph. If you have an autograph, please go and put on your jacket so that we can go out into the school playground straight away. Please keep your voices down," you remind the children, who shortly afterwards line up in front of your desk waiting to sign an autograph.

You take the seat next to the door to keep an eye on the children who are putting on their jackets.

The autograph session goes faster than expected, so that within twenty minutes all the children are standing in the corridor whispering in their jackets and then follow Max and you out into the schoolyard in a duck march.

Yesterday afternoon you had already set up a small parkour, which you will have to drive through today with the two Bobby Cars.

The red and blue Bobby Car are already ready and waiting to be used.

You had even made a small podium out of cardboard boxes and bought small mini trophies to give your offspring the full programme of a racing experience.

While the children would race against Max, you would time them and the three fastest times would end up on the podium.

Max grabs the blue Bobby Car, which just fits half his knee, while Aaron can sit perfectly on the red Bobby Car.

While the two race against each other, the children cheer on Max and Aaron in different groups.

The latter narrowly wins, as Max has a few problems with the only Bobby Car.

Despite all this, the Dutchman doesn't lose the fun of the game, so he competes against every single child with joy and fun, even if it's not enough for one of the three podium places in the end.

Standing proudly on the podium with their trophies, the three winners literally raise their plastic trophies in the air until a couple of water pistols are used to replace the champagne shower and all the children run across the schoolyard screaming and chasing each other.

Smiling, you look after your class as Max stands next to you.

"That was a really nice day. Thank you for preparing so many nice things. I really don't know the last time I really enjoyed a day like this," said Max, smiling and thanking you.

"I also have to thank you. You really put a lot of effort into my class. You were really looking forward to the day, which was a real success. "

You can't stop a smile from forming on your lips as Max gives you a smile and then pulls something out of his trouser pocket.

" I forgot to give you your autograph. "

The Dutchman smiles and hands you the autograph card before also grabbing a water pistol and running over to your class.

Confused, you lower your eyes to the autograph card, which shows a grinning Max in his dark racing suit.

You really have a great class.

Your lions are really lucky to have such a great teacher like you.

You've learnt a lot about me today and I hope I get the opportunity to get to know you a little better.

Why don't you write to me

01*******

[mrsmandalorian]

nonsense

-- pedro x singer!f!reader one shot

summary: a surprise visitor at your first-ever coachella performance!

second part: espresso/main masterlist /word count: 4.5k

warnings: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied, smut!!!, and fluff!, drinking, drug use (edibles and smoking), switch sex, p in v, fingering, sexual teasing, pet names (mi amor, princesa, daddy, baby, baby girl, puppy, angel)

a/n: howdy everyone! was inspired by Sabrina Carpenter's Coachella performance to write this. let me know if you guys want a second story to Espresso lol. i would love to hear your feedback or comments! much love to everyone!! -maddie

Coachella was one of the most famous music festivals a musician could play at. It was such an honor to be on the setlist. It is incredible to perform a night each weekend in a row. This might be the most significant break in your career. Something felt missing.

The crowd started to get excited as the set time grew nearer. The nerves shot through you as you took deep breaths. You were trying to get over the feelings going through your mind.

“Are you alright?” one of the backup dancers asks as they help you with the earpiece. As you look yourself over in the mirror, you see the beautiful outfit that was personalized to fit you wonderfully, with your hair done beautifully. 

You were ready. 

“Yes, I am ready!” You smiled at your team as you took hold of your microphone. The band starts playing one of your most famous songs. The lights went dark as the band played the first cords of the song. The crowd roared in anticipation. You slowly stepped out into the darkness and started the melody. 

The lights pour onto the stage, and the crowd goes wild. They get the first glance at you with your sexy and luxurious outfit.  You smirk to yourself at the attention as you scan through the crowd. All the exciting and loyal fans in the crowd as they sing every verse with you. You follow the dance choreography you have practiced and performed many times. Once the music was going, it was hard not to get stuck into it and forget about the hundreds of people in front of you. The crowd was going wild as they sang along to your new song. 

You continued the song as you had images of the reason for it, smirking to yourself. Pedro makes you feel like you're on cloud nine, from how he treats you publicly to the bedroom activities. A few songs highlighted the bedroom activities. You had never written such “edgy, sexy” songs before you met him. The secret love affair had made all of you so happy. He still made you content and secured in your relationship even miles and hours away from him. 

As you go through the song and move around more, you look into the VIP areas and see many familiar faces. You don’t pay much attention as you have to end the song. You were so busy entertaining your fans that you did not notice who had slipped into the VIP section alongside both of your mutual friends. You were so focused on the choreography and in your element. The show was a big deal and a performance with dances and graphics for all the songs on the giant screens. You were singing your last song of the night, which was Nonsense. It was one of your favorite songs to perform, as it gave the audience the mood for the evening. The song represented something personal to you: your secret relationship with your new lover, Pedro Pascal, the whole internet’s boyfriend. It was interesting to see social media go crazy over who the song might be for. Some had the correct answers, but it was still a new and private relationship. 

The lights fall as the melody starts. “I think that you guys will enjoy this next song! I have seen all the tiktoks, by the way.” You joke into the darkness and receive a wild response from the crowd. You take a few breaths and get into position in a very sexy pose, along with the dancers, waving at the sweet fans who can see you. 

“No (La-la, la-la) da-ah-ah, ah (Ah-ah, uh, uh, uh, yeah)”

As the song begins, the spotlight shines only on you. You scan over the crowd with a smirk. It was one of the sexy, edgy songs you wrote because of your lover. There are butterflies in your stomach from nerves to play something as personal as this song, especially for such a big and reactive crowd. 

“Think I only want one number on my phone I might change your contact to "Don't leave me alone." You said you like my eyes, and you like to make them roll Treat me like a queen; now you got me feelin' thrown, oh.”

You continued the song as you had images of the reason for it, smirking to yourself. Pedro makes you feel like you're on cloud nine, from how he treats you publicly to the bedroom activities. A few songs highlighted the bedroom activities. You had never written such “edgy, sexy” songs before you met him. The secret love affair had made all of you so happy. He still made you content and secured in your relationship even miles and hours away from him. 

The stage lights illuminate the whole stage as you walk around and sway your hips to the music. During the lyrics, you stop and try to sing with your fans as you make your way to the side of your VIP area to see those familiar faces. 

“But I can't help myself When you get close to me Baby, my tongue goes numb Sounds like blah, blah, blee”

As you sing towards the area, your eyes linger over your friend group of non-famous friends to Sarah Paulson, which causes you to smile at them. You continue to scan the section until they land on HIM. The person that this song was written about. He was being his goofy and adorable self as he sang along with you. This causes you to mess up with a blush but quickly recover as the next verse comes. 

“I don't want no one else (don't want) Baby, I'm in too deep Here's a lil' song I wrote (a song I wrote) It's about you and me (me)”

The eye contact that he held with you as you sang your filthy thoughts of him directly to him with a huge smirk. You continued to perform as you moved your hips a little more to the choreography because of him. In the following verses, you look away as you sing to your fans.

“I'll be honest Lookin' at you got me thinkin' nonsense Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in And when you got your arms around me Ooh, it feels so good. I had to jump the octave I think I got an ex but I forgot him And I can't find my chill, I must have lost it I don't even know I'm talkin' nonsense I'm talkin', I'm talkin' (ah)”

You twirl your hair and sway your hips back to his side of the stage as your dancers follow close behind you. Make eye contact with him to ensure he is focused on you now. 

“I'm talkin' all around clock I'm talkin' hope nobody knocks I'm talkin' opposite of soft I'm talkin' wild, wild thoughts You gotta keep up with me I got some young energy I caught the L-O-V-E How do you do this to me?”

You follow the choreography correctly as you hold flirty eye contact with him. Once you go over the chorus again and start to finish the song, you stand in your final position in the middle of the stage. You send him a wink and blow a kiss, then turn your attention to your fans. 

“You guys have been absolutely the best! I hope you all enjoyed it and hope to see you again next weekend! I love you, and please stay safe!” You say after you show appreciation to your band and dancers. You wave and bow as the crowd goes wild and chant your name as the lights go down. 

As you run backstage with your crew, laughing and smiling, you give all of them well-deserved love and appreciation. Your manager is there with water and a hug.” You did amazing! They loved you!” they say as you drink your water and wipe the sweat. Now celebrate! Not too hard!”

You follow their instructions as you see your friends run up as you exit the backstage towards your tent. They all sang praises and love and hugged you. After a while, you finally met the handsome brown eyes again, but closer this time. You jog up to him in your tight-fitting outfit with a big smile as the two collide in a hug, throwing your arms around his neck. He was wearing a button-up shirt with the first set of buttons undone, dark jeans, and his oversized glasses and baseball cap. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You say with a smile as you look up to him. He smirked as he got ready to say something witty back to you. You interrupt it with a short but passionate kiss on his lips. “I’m happy you’re here! How long have you been here?” Your hands land on his exposed chest, which makes him pull you closer. 

He chuckles at you as he sees the adrenaline still pumping through you as you chatter to him. “I just decided to come to see my favorite person perform at Coachella. My schedule can wait two days. I’ve been here the whole time. You were great, beautiful.” He keeps his voice so no one else can hear your conversation. You feel his hands slide down your hips a little bit. “Also, where did you get this little number, and why haven’t I ever seen it?” Letting his thick fingers run over the design against your lower sides. 

The compliments give you a confidence boost on top of your adrenaline rush. You bite your lip as his hands wander slightly until they settle on your lower back. “I planned on changing before we celebrate, but if you like it, I can keep it on.” You whisper into his ear, then look back at his expression. 

His eyes darkened from your comment, causing him to pull you a little closer. “I like that idea,” He whispers in your ear as his lips graze your neck with a few pecks. Before you both could continue, your friends gathered you into other event areas. The group stayed together as they went to different stages to watch other artists, including Doja Cat and Lana Del Rey. 

Pedro and you both socialized and drank with all your friends as you celebrated your incredible performance. There were edibles taken sometime in all the fun. He would occasionally hold onto you as you both danced closely. You both let loose, and as you can see, everyone was far from wasted. You were letting your bodies get as close as possible, hips grinding onto his. His hands would run down your sides and tease you. Stealing kisses from each other, and the sexual tension was through the roof. 

The feeling of being watched makes you look around every once in a while. The camera flashes and excited screams from people around you made you realize that your relationship might not be that much of a secret now. Pedro and you interacted with lovely, chill fans who casually recognized you. You had some groups that would call over to Pedro as “daddy” as he played it off like a champ.

“Vamos, mi amor,” Pedro whispers in your ear as he grips his gentle hands around your waist. You meet his erotic brown eyes that make your cheeks burn hard as you squeeze your thighs together. Pedro was very facially expressive because you could read his thoughts whenever you looked into him. His thoughts were highly naughty, and it was time to go home.  “I wondered how you felt about calling it for a night and heading back to your room for a nice bath.” 

You look around at everyone in the crew and see your friends slowing their nights down, which doesn’t make you worried about causing another upset. Meeting the brown eyes again, you give him an arguing grin as you throw back your head with a laugh. 

“I thought you might like that idea, Hermosa. Let’s tell them all good night and get going,” he whispers again in your ear as he gently pulls you towards your group of friends. Both of you take the time to say goodbye to your friends and thank them for supporting you. Pedro’s loud laugh pulls you away from your friends as you meet his warm eyes. He hugs everyone and draws you into his hip with an arm around your waist. “Goodnight, everyone. Safe travels!” 

There were plenty of farewells, naughty things, and cat calls as you leaned against Pedro, who turned around with a silly face and middle finger gesture. He helps guide you to the Uber you take to your hotel room for the night. As you lay your head in his lap, the car ride was full of stolen kisses and laughter.

“You were an absolute star tonight, mi amor,” Pedro says as he traces his fingers along the straps of his outfit, letting his fingers run down to his cleavage. That last song was very cheeky. I wonder who that could be about.” 

“Thank you. It was about one of my lovers. You might know him,” You joke with him, trying not to moan. His wandering fingers turn into wandering palms as they slowly paw at your breast. 

“Oh, you are playing hard to get whenever I already have you smitten,” he mumbles, only where you could hear him. The car comes to a stop as you arrive at your hotel. You quickly get out of the vehicle as Pedro follows closely behind you. You couldn’t keep your hands off one another as you walked through the empty hotel halls. Acting as strangers whenever you encounter a person, you giggle with each other once you come back together. 

Once you find your room, Pedro checks to see if the hallway is clear. He uses a little force with his grip as he leans you against your shut door. Letting his hands explore before they landed on your bottom, kneading your ass. One of his hands comes up to cup your jaw as he lines his lips up with yours, passionately kissing yours. His body closes into yours as you let him control the situation as you follow his lead. After grinding bodies and long, passionate kisses, you pull away, trying to catch your breath as you stare up at him with your cheeks burning. “We should get inside,” you say as you turn around the door, fumbling with the door. Pedro stepped back a little and watched as you struggled a bit. 

“Why are you so frizzled, mi amor?” He whispers against your neck and presses the front of his body to your back. Feeling his stiff member against your backside along with his hot breath, almost making you moan out at contact. “Let me help you.” He helps you inside as you giggle and follow him. 

Pedro and you have been messing around for a while now. You have not discussed a relationship status or anything, but neither of you hooked up with others. He treats you like a significant other the way he respects your boundaries and doesn’t hide his affection towards you. 

“Let’s go put that beautiful bathtub you sent me a picture of yesterday to good use,” he teases you as he takes off his baseball cap, which makes his hair go all over the place. He starts unbuttoning more of his shirt as his chest becomes bare. You can’t resist running your hands down his chest as he looks at you with a smirk. 

He spanks your ass hard with a groan because of your hands on him. “Let’s go, sweetheart,” he says as he pats your ass to get you to start moving. Once in the bathroom, turn on the large white tub to create a perfect mix of hot and cold. He grips your hips as he runs his hands to the back of your outfit. “Whoever designed this little piece is a fucking genius. It is beautiful and flatters you greatly.” 

“Well, thank you, Pedro. I might have had you in mind when I got it designed. I was going to send you some pictures tonight whenever I came back here,” you smirked and winked at him in the mirror as he helped you undo the outfit. He kissed down your body as the fabric went off, making chills run across your body. The time apart doesn’t affect you emotionally, but how your body reacts tells the absolute truth. The way your heart rate skyrockets as his lips make their way to your mound. 

You leaned against the counter for support as your outfit fell onto the floor, leaving you only in underwear. You make eye contact with Pedro as he continues to kiss and lick down your lower half. He hooks his large fingers under the top band of your panties as he meets your eyes for approval. You give him a slight nod and grin as his feather-like kisses follow the material as he pulls them down your legs. Throwing your head back as you try not to make a noise as he runs his tongue just above your clit. You make a frustrated groan as his tongue suddenly leaves your skin, leaving goosebumps. 

Pedro chuckles softly as he sees how your body reacts to him, pulling away with a smirk on his lips. He stands up as he pushes his body against yours, pulling your hips into his. “You are such a good girl for me. Your body is always ready for me,” he whispers as he ducks his head to kiss your neck. “Let’s go in, mi amor.”  He gets in first so you can sit in between his thick thighs. He helps you as you slide in between his legs, back against his chest. His rigid member pressed against your lower back, his hands tease your nipples after you get settled. He couldn’t help but let his hands wander as he settled comfortably behind you. He rubs out your sore body but lets his hands focus on your most sensitive spots.

His gentle but firm hands run on either side of your hips as his kisses lay on your shoulders. He inhaled deeply against your skin, causing you to tense up your back as it chills down your spine. He moves his hands from your hips towards your mound. You used one hand to spread your left leg apart, holding it still with just one large hand. His right hand found its way down to tease your slit, playing with your sweet lips. You felt the member on your back begin to throb as he slightly rubbed himself against you. You let out your needy moans and sounds continuous as he worked his fingers against you. 

He kept teasing you and kissing your shoulder and neck with his scruffy face. You had enough of his teasing and rigid member. It was rare that you switched roles, but you were both switches. (You can’t tell me that Pedro is not a switch.)  You slide out of his grip as you meet his eyes once you are turned around to face him. 

You grasp onto his rigid member, holding yourself up on the sides of the tub. He squirms and lets out a moan as you hold yourself over him. “I’m tired of the teasing, Pascal. It’s my turn,” you say as you ease your entrance slowly onto his throbbing tip. You find a comfortable position for your legs as you keep going up and down on his tip. He lets out a loud ‘fuck’ and moans as he squeezes his eyes close. His hands move to your hips, letting you take control. You start to ride him as you push your breast into his face. 

One of his hands moved from your hips to grip your tit, “who gave you permission to touch me?” You whisper almost into his ear as he looks up at you with big brown eyes. 

“Sorry, miss,” he whimpers back as your speed of volatile movements onto his cock increases. He leans back and rests his arms on the back of the tub as he lets you ride the hell out of him. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes as he groans out in pleasure. “Fuck, mi amor.” 

“You like this, don’t you?” You firmly ask him as you force his face into the middle of your tits. He starts to motorboat your breast as you suffocate him gently. The scruff from his face makes you more sensitive than you thought, riding his member harder. “You start fucking me hard, baby. Thrust your big cock into me.”

He meets your eyes with pleasing brown eyes to satisfy your needs. His pleas make you smirk as you nod. Pedro begins to slam his hips into you, moaning as he does. “Thank you, thank you for letting me fuck you.” He pants as he thrusts deep inside of you, feeling his throbbing member hitting every spot. 

He grips your body, and his thrust begins to become more rapid as you continue to ride his giant member. Every thrust has the purpose of pleasing you; his hand works its way back up to your breast. He plays aggressively with your nipple, pinching and sucking on it. His other hand gripped onto your ass as his rhythm stayed deep and hard. The overstimulation of his hands and the member inside of you causes you to scream out in pleasure, “Good puppy.” You whimper as you feel your orgasm coming sooner as he leans up and thrusts into you. Pedro chose the pet name on one of the first nights you had taken control of the action.

Eventually, with his rapid thrust and wandering hands,  your body starts to shake as you are overcome with pleasure. “Keep going, puppy,” you whimper as he continues to work out your orgasm. “Such a good puppy.” You whisper as you run your hands over his chest. Your body falls into his as you overcome your orgasm, gripping onto his as he continues to pleasure you. He pulls out and fingers your wet pussy, licking his fingers after you finish.  

You both lay in the tub for a while as you overcome your orgasm. He held you as you came down from your high, kissing your head. “Was that good for you, mi amor?” He asks gently as he pulls you into his chest. He moved the hair from your face, rubbing his hands down your waist. 

You gently nod against him as the day catches up with you. After a few minutes, you get tired of the cramped space of the tub. “Let’s get out, baby,” you mumble to him as you lean up, earning a grunt in return. The guilt of not pleasuring Pedro silently overcame you as you exited the bathtub. 

The sound of a low grunt makes you return to the tub as the broad man emerges. You smile mischievously at him as he glances up to meet your grin. His member is still very much erect as he steps in front of you. The fun part of being switch partners was that it could change in a flash. You give Pedro a knowing look as he meets your eyes and stands before you. His eyes and grin light up on his face as he gently guides you onto the counter behind you. “My turn, princesa,” he mumbles and spreads your legs apart as he pushes himself in between them. He pulls your body towards the edge of the counter so your legs wrap around him.

You lean your back against the counter as he holds your lower half, rubbing his throbbing cock against your slick entrance. He leans over your body, sucking on one of your nipples to get a reaction out of you, which it did as you let out a loud moan. Your body reacted as well as it pushed farther onto his member. You both let out a pleasurable sound as his tongue runs down your chest to your stomach. Your hips start to tease him as they grind against him, which causes him to spank the side of your ass.  “No, ma’am, it’s daddy’s turn,” he smirks up at you as he moves one of his hands to your nipple. His fingers quickly fondle your right nipple as you moan loudly. “You let daddy fuck your sweet, sweet pussy?” 

You let out a satisfied groan as his hand moved down your entrance, gently rubbing you as his thumb ran over your sensitive clit. After gently teasing your pussy with his fingers, he lubed himself up with his fingers from your wetness. His large member enters you again as he holds onto your hips. He pushes inside slowly as you both let out moans. 

“You’re so fucking wet, angel. Did ya miss daddy?” He asks as he grips your hips harder, thrusting inside of you. You give a desperate nod as your hands grip onto the edge of the counter. Pedro takes his time as he edges himself in and out of you, giving you all the praises. He pulls up your upper body so your bodies grind against one another, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other holding your back. “Good girl.”

The friction from the position on your mound makes it hard not to moan and squirm in pleasure. His thrust becomes more rigid and repetitive as his grip holds you gently but firmly. You could feel your orgasm approaching as well from the position. “I’m about to cum, Daddy,” you whimpered as you gripped his firm broad shoulders. 

His mouth meets your ear as he groans into your ear. His heavy breathing makes your back arch and push into his thrust more. “Wait for me, baby girl,” he mumbles into your ear as his thrust becomes more sloppy. “Come for me, angel.” He sets you down on the counter as his hands grip your breast, twiddling your nipples with his thick fingers.

Before long, both of you came together with your bodies grinding against one another, along with satisfied noises. 

Pedro’s warm brown eyes meet yours before he kisses you. The two of you might not have a title, but the sparks were there every touch. “Such a good girl, angel,” he says as he gently pulls out of you. “Let’s take a quick shower.” He helps you into the shower, where the two of you help wash one another and joke around with stolen kisses in between. After getting ready, Pedro carries you into bed as the two of you order dessert from room service. The rest of the night was full of laughter and heavy makeout. The two of you cuddle up to some cheesy movie and fall asleep midway through it. 

These were the perfect nights for you to write a whole album about your feelings for this cheeky, handsome man. 

thank you for reading! let me know what you think!🤍

[nofingjustaninchident]

I had an idea today. rockstar reader x Jason Grace? Like he’s a fan of her and he goes to one of her concerts and gets a wink from her and they later meet through a shared friend and their relationship blooms from there? And she’s a typical rockstar girl, red leather jacket, smudged eyeliner, kinda “hardcore”. I got the idea after listening to arabella by artic monkeys!

ᯓ★ arabella

summary you and your band are back in new york, so you call some friends to your show - smau and written

warnings smoking in like one pic, i know nothing about rock

author’s note thank you anon, for requesting this. i’m sorry it took me a month and a half to do this, honey, really am. i still don’t have much time to write these days, so i did a smau. hope uou enjoy!

now listening to arabella by arctic monkeys

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

liked by seaweedbrainfr, ghostking and 806 others

blond.superman oh god, not me taking my friends to a rock concert

beautyqueen oooh is this >>her<< show?

wisegirlbeth good luck! you’re gonna need it 🥰

ghostking well have so much fun 🤩

blond.superman already regretting even inviting you three

reynathequeen nah you’re not

repair.boy lol i’m so freaking excited to tease you all night about her

liked by blond.superman, dovecameron and 504,623 others

yourusername not back to 505, but back to the big apple

dovecameron can’t wait to see you babyy

yourusername OMG YOURE HERE?? AS IN NEW YORK???

user y/n as lost as we are helppp 😭😭

user can’t WAIT to see her show today

honeymoon as hot as ever i see

yourusername love ya loads

user MOTHER IS MOTHERING

user how can someone be so pretty???

user that’s not a face card, that’s a face ECONOMY 🛐

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“she winked to me.”

that made nico, the closest person to jason (and the only one that wasn’t too intoxicated to understand something) to turn to him with confused expression.

“who winked at you?” the shorter boy asked, seemingly confused by his friend’s words.

“y/n. i’m a hundred percent sure.” the blond boy replied, staring at the guitarist. she was way too pretty, and he was afraid that maybe he was right and she did winked at him.

nico snickered. “oh, sure. delulu is the solulu, am i right?”

“nico, im not joking.” he repeated, and she did it again. this time, an open mouthed percy turned to him, bewildered.

“jason! y/n winked at you! did you see it?!” the brunet said, smiling more than he’d usually do. god, the alcohol was clear in his face.

jason looked at nico as if to say see? as they turned back to enjoy the show.

after ten more songs, the concert was finally done. the guitarrist, y/n, walked over to the front of the stage and grabbed the mic. her hair was damp from sweat, her mascara and eyeliner smudged around her eyes. "good night, my pretty city!" she said, earning a round of cheers from the crowd.

"it's so nice to be back here with my favorite people in the world. here is where this dream began, and here is where it'll continue!" she finished and, with another round of applause, the band was finally off the stage.

reyna, as drunk as she was, smiled cheekily at her friends. "so, i may or i may not be friends with the vocalist." she revealed, making the other three friends snap their heads towards the puerto rican.

"WHAT?!" the three friends half-shouted at the same time.

"what do you mean you're "friends with the vocalist"? and why did you never tell us?" nico asked, all color draining from his face.

"well, it doesn't matter right now. what does matter is that we got pass to the back stage. which means we're gonna meet the band. which means that jason gets to see his all time crush. so, do you want to go now or miss the opportunity?"

"like hell we're missing it." the blond spoke up and grabbed reyna's arm. "lead the way."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

tagged: arcticmonkeys

liked by sabrinacarpenter, blond.superman and 1,005,478 others

yourusername another show that almost had me in tears. every show is awesome but the new york ones just hit different. thanks for everyone that was there!!

user alright the show was great and all but WHO WAS THE PERSON SHE WINKED TO???

blond.superman best show ever (liked by author)

user WHO’S THIS ONE???

user WAS HIM WHO SHE WINKED TO???

user just stalked him, his face card is offering 🙏🏻🙏🏻

user shoo our girl doesn’t need m*n

honeymoon dear lord when i get to heaven, pls let me bring my woman

yourusername COMPLETELY IN LOVE WITH YOUU

liked by yourusername, beautyqueen and 107,896 other

blond.superman damn, suddenly i'm famous

user well, damn. i came here to boo him for supposedly wooing our girl and ended up being wooed as well

yourusername last slide is SO ME

blond.superman i wonder why's that

yourbff oh no, my girl was wooed by a wh*te m*n repair.boy i'm latino, in case you're interested ghostking LEO NO

user he's hot, a drummer, blond.. is this heaven?

user i can see why y/n was wooed by him

user hell yeah

tegged: blond.superman

liked by your bff, blond.superman and 1,975,830 others

yourusername petition for my new boyfriend to teach me how to play drums or join my band

blond.superman love you <3 (liked by author)

seaweedbrain FINALLY!!! he'd been pining on you for the past two years y/n. two. years.

user NOT JASON BEING EXPOSED

yourusername oww how cute

blond.superman i'll find you, jackson. i'll find you.

oliviarodrigo aww my favorite american couple!! so cute you two (liked by author)

matthewhelders first of all, you should thank me and reyna for introducing you two. second, I'M YOUR DRUMMER!!

yourusername yeah yeah thx reyna and YOU'RE OLD MATTHEW!! WE NEED MORE GEN-Z

user y/n is so awesome omfg

wisegirlbeth so happy for my boy (nah i'm just glad we don't have to hear about how awesome she is anymore)

beautyqueen nope we're hearing twice as much now

honeymoon so happy for you boo! (liked by author)

sabrinacarpenter fav couple (liked by author)

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 7.5 - Clarity~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: Written from Alastor's POV, this chapter gives insight of what the Radio Demon is up to during Part 7. Feeling like you (Alastor) are going mad, you makes a visit to your dearest friend leading to a shocking confession to Husker.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, actual plot, Rosie is the sweetest, slow burn, poor Husker, and of course 18+

A/N: This part isn't necessarily needed to follow the story however it was fun to do something a little different. I tried writing in Alastor's voice and give a (small) glimpse into his side.

3.6k Words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A (You're on it!) Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader/Alastor

This is maddening. You buried yourself in pointless work. Anything to refrain from having to leave your tower and see the others around the hotel, especially her. The foreign ache in your chest only throbbed more at the thought of seeing the hurt in her eyes. Reckless fool! How could I allow her to make me feel such emotions? Almost a hundred years of creating my image and some sinner has the ability to destroy me like this - no - of course not…she was never just some sinner…

Slumping over the scattered paperwork across the desk, you bury your head in your claws. Time was non-existent. Has it been hours? Weeks? Months? No, couldn’t have been that long since you watched her entire being shatter right in front of you. The pain was too much for it to have been that long. This was supposed to just be a partnership, a power grab…How did I end up like this? The radio tower has been your home since she left. You were far too prideful to go back to your room, too afraid of what would happen the moment you caught a whiff of her perfume that surely lingered in every grain of wood and every fiber of your sheets. 

A few soft taps at the door pull you from your tormented mind. Quickly standing from the desk, you straighten your shirt and throw on the same suit jacket you’ve worn for who knows how long. I must keep up appearances, no one can suspect anything otherwise. 

With a shake of your head, you plaster on the usual smile and open the door to see Charlie and Vaggie. “Hey Al! Just wanted to let you know we are about to head up to Heaven for a few hours. Mind keeping an eye on the hotel while we are gone?” Charlie beamed with an excitement that quite contrasted her partner's uncomfortable scowl. 

“Of course my dear! Your hotelier has everything covered.” you chime with a half-hearted bow. Vaggie steps forward, obviously annoyed, “Don’t set anything on fire, don’t destroy any more walls, and please for the hundredth time - keep Nifty out of our room. Last time she tried to throw out all my clothes!”  You hum in acknowledgement and follow a concerningly bouncy Charlie down to the lobby where, like clockwork, a portal to Heaven opens. “Common Vaggie! Bye everyone!” Charlie hops through the portal, dragging a less than amused Vaggie behind her. 

“Sheesh Smiles, you look like -” Angel starts to say before promptly shutting up and going back to his phone after seeing the glare you shoot towards him. Twirling your cane, you walk over to the bar where Husk tentatively pulls out a glass as if silently asking if you wanted a drink. You wave him off, “No need Husker. I have much to do today and need to be of a clear head.” Yeah right, like I’ve managed a clear head at all lately. “Though I am curious, where is our charming little friend? I heard she had fallen ill.”

Husk shrugs but Angel is quick to chime in, “Oh Charlie sent her to get some things from town and take them to Lucifer. She’ll probably be back soon…as long as Lucifer doesn’t take up too much of her time - if you know what I mean.” Angel mutters the last part seductively with a wink. A fiery rage burns through your veins. How dare he insinuate something so repulsive!? The urge to shred the sinner limb from limb boils over and your eyes flash to him, “It’d be wise to keep such vile comments to yourself spider.” you hiss through gritted teeth. A relaxed smile returns as you regain composure and walk away. Without her around, you figure you’ll have some time to freely move about the hotel, busying yourself with the usual to-dos.

You finish the last of your tasks and begin to head back to the tower when Vaggie and Charlie come flying back through a portal, landing harshly on their backs. Tears flood Charlie’s face. She pulls out her phone to make a call, “Dad, you were right. It was horrible!” she says before hanging up. Within seconds another portal opens within the lobby, this time Lucifer coming through. Of course he has to make a grand appearance. 

Your attention snaps back to Charlie in time to see her shove Vaggie away and bolt up the stairs. Now would be a good time to make quite an impression on the girl. You attempt to follow the princess but Lucifer drives his elbow into your side, forcing you into the railing. Every muscle in your face twists in annoyance at the pretentious little “King”. The urge to go after him is quickly snuffed by the feeling of eyes burning into your back. 

A glance over your shoulder makes your heart drop into your stomach. There she is, staring into you. Her eyes didn’t have their bright sparkle and she looked utterly exhausted even with all the makeup. Did she always put on so much? No, she hated caking it on. I really did a number on her didn’t I? Her usually bright smile is replaced with a grim look of…Anger? Concern? Pain? You don’t have enough time to read her before Lucifer makes his way back down the stairs. 

“She seems to need some time alone.” he announces as he makes his way back over to the shell of a woman standing before you. You watch as he pulls her flush with his body, greedy hands snaking up her sides. He mumbles something before placing his foul lips against her skin and disappearing into red ribbons. 

Her face mirrors your feelings of disgust at his touch. Did he force himself on her? I swear if he hurt - You catch yourself stepping towards her. Every ounce of your being longed to wrap her into your arms. Your heart begged to pour yourself into her, to remove every trace of Lucifer from her body. Her gaze meets yours again. You freeze. The pain behind the eyes that stared back at you made your knees nearly buckle. What is wrong with me… With a nod you slink into your shadow. I believe it’s time to visit someone who can help.

It was always a pleasure to be in Rosie’s presence. You can’t quite remember how you met but you knew she was easily your oldest, truest friend here in Hell. Usually you didn’t dally much about romance, her self-proclaimed specialty, but right now you could use any insight she could give. 

“Alastor! How I’ve missed seeing that dazzling smile of yours!” Rosie pulls you into her ever smothering hug,  “Come along, I was just getting some tea. Tell me, what do I owe the pleasure of such company?”

You remain quiet as you sit at the table to pour two cups of tea, smile faltering just enough to tell her something was very wrong. “Oh darlin’, what’s going on? I can’t recall a time you’ve looked so distressed.” It was strange hearing yourself try to explain these last few months. You’ve always made it a point to be very well spoken, years of broadcasting have ingrained it into your mind. But today you fumbled your words telling Rosie how you wound up in this position - with these…feelings.

“Oh my stars. I never thought this day would come.” She sits back in her chair in astonishment. Your ears perk up at her short response, “What do you mean dear?” Rosie leans back towards you, gently placing a hand atop yours, “Alastor darling, you’re in love!” 

An uneasy feeling washes over you. Your hand quickly retracts at the mention of that word. Love? What a ridiculous notion. It’s fruitless…unnecessary…weak…

Her face softens at your doubtful silence, “All of those moments, the desires, even the pain…it’s obvious you’ve fallen head over heels for that gal. She must be quite a charmer to get you this worked up!” she laughs giddily but you’re far from amused at this assumption. 

“Rosie dear, I’m not some hopeless romantic. I don't have the time nor the need for such frivolous things.” She frowns at your bitter denial. You can see she’s reeling, trying to find her next words. She stands up and begins pacing the room, still unable to conjure the right response. Your frustration grows as you try to reason with her, “Look, I just need to figure out how to be rid of this. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can barely think without her somehow worming her way into my mind.”

Her dark eyes snap to you, “You admit you want more than just a mutual partnership?”

“Well yes -”

She steps closer to you, “And you crave her presence, her touch, her voice?”

“Always but - “

“Do you desire a future with her and only her?”

Irritated, you try to answer once again, “At one point yes howev-”

“Alastor, do not deny yourself love just because you don’t fully understand it! It is not a weakness - no sir - it’s quite the contrary.” 

“Enough!” The table jolts beneath your now balled up fists, “What does it matter!? She loathes me! I set fire to her and burned any trust or feelings she could possibly have for me! I ran her off - straight into that imbecile's arms!” you snarl with a heavy static filling the air. 

A gentle hand rests on your shoulder. You look up at Rosie like a remorseful child, “She’d never believe me even if I told her…” you say softly. She squeezes your shoulder before returning to her chair and taking a sip from her cup. “Words are cheap, but actions, they speak for the truth. Don’t allow your pride to get in the way of what you could have.” Her tone turns sharp and concise, “Now, I know you and I know you’re not one to hold onto what ‘could have been’ or fret over past mistakes. But I’m telling you from experience, if you don’t at least try with this girl, you will regret it.” The words drive into you like a hot knife.

A heavy silence falls between you two while a battle rages in your mind. She’s never steered me wrong before, but how can she be so sure? She hasn’t even met this girl and she can already make these incredibly bold assumptions. You finish your tea and stand from the table. Walking over to Rosie’s chair, you bend down to peck her cheek with a quiet, “Thank you.” before stepping into your shadow to return to the hotel. 

In the past you’d have a drink or two to celebrate a victory or to get Mimzy off your case about ‘the good old days’, but tonight you wanted to be numb. “Another.” you demand, slamming the glass against the hotel bar. 

Husk cautiously pours more into your cup, “Uh boss, you doin’ alright?” Before he can finish his question your glass is empty and pounds the bar again, “Another!” you repeat. Husk couldn’t figure out if he should be amused or scared about your sudden change in demeanor. He pours you more, not daring to say no to the demon who owned his soul so tightly. 

You weren’t keeping count of how many drinks you managed to take into your body. Truthfully you didn’t care. The liquor was supposed to make the thoughts stop and numb everything but you found it only amplified with each glass. “Husker…Did - did you see him?” your speech might have been perfect but your mind was definitely beginning to blur. 

“See who?” Husk asked nervously looking around, wondering what strange delusions you might be seeing. 

You hiccup and laugh at his oblivious reaction, “That King…putting his hands all over her. He’s trying to take what is rightfully mine. He has no business touching her in such ways!” you growl as another hiccup leaves your chest. 

“Oh - uh yeah I saw that. She didn’t seem too happy about it either -”

“You’re damn right she wasn’t!” you shout louder than intended.

“Right…” Husk trails off, unsure of how to handle you in this new state of drunken anger, “Look, you don’t have to tell me but you’re definitely drinkin’ to forget something.” he says, trying to tread lightly. 

You signal for another drink while shaking your head in response to his question, “My dear Husker I - I think I’ve developed…feelings - “ The sudden sound of a bottle shattering makes you jump out of your chair. Looking over the bar you see Husker frantically cleaning up the bottle he dropped out of pure shock. 

He looks up at you, eyes wide with bewilderment, “Fuck sorry, I just thought I heard - feelings? What kind of feelings are we talkin?”

You slam another drink back, “Seeing him with her did something to me. It…hurt…It felt like a knife plunged into my chest.” If you were paying closer attention, you’d hear his snarky retort, “If only it was a real knife….” but you’re too preoccupied inside your own mind. Husk finishes cleaning the floor and leans against the bar, grabbing a new bottle and pouring you another without asking.

Why am I even talking with him? I didn’t think liquor could affect me so much down here. Ignoring instinct, you happily down another without wasting any time. The burn washes over your body and a peculiar sense of clarity suddenly hits, “I love that girl.” you say plainly, without a shimmer of doubt. 

Another bottle shatters against the floor along with the glasses Husk was starting to carry to the sink. “Fucking get it together Husker! Do you need gloves or something?! You’re wasting perfectly good rye!!! They would have had your head back in my day for such careless actions!” you shout at the now completely stunned bartender. He stares at you, eyes wider than saucers. Annoyed with the sudden lack of conversation from the demon - It is quite rude of him to just keep staring, I mean really - you slink away into your tower to be left with your thoughts. While you climb the stairs, you don’t bother looking back to see Husk’s mortified face as he mumbles frantically to himself, “What…in the actual fuck…just happened…I need a drink, wait no, I need ten drinks...and where the hell is Angel when you need him!?”

Your buzz begins to fade as you pace your tower, somehow causing everything to hit you tenfold. Rosie was right, I can’t deny this any longer. What am I going to do…hell what can I do? Why is this so hard to -

Three loud knocks reverberate through the tower. You still, not daring to give the person on the other side any clues as to if you were there or not. Please just go away, I don’t have the patience or clear mind for anyone right now. Your shadow tugs violently at your pant leg, signally the urgency of answering the door. You warily turn the knob and focus your eyes on the dimly lit woman in front of you. All the air leaves your lungs.

F-fuck…

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp @alastorsgirl48 @mysterisumone @phamtasic @ohnah2022 @eris-norwega @kaylopolis @littlebluefishtail @little-slyvixen @laudrawin @qu1cks1lversb1tch

[kirkscarr]

ok so i just finished my book cover for First, Best Destiny - Part 1 by the amazing @ophelia-j !!

admittedly i was going to wait until i actually attached the text block to the cover before i posted this haha, but i was SO excited after making this cover that i decided to just post it and then update with the finished product later!!

this book is absolutely embedded in my soul, and words cannot even describe how gorgeously it’s written. it’s a book that made me realize - hey, the adventure doesn’t end as you grow old.

you can read it here. i promise you won’t regret it!!!

anyways!!! here’s all of my other bookbinding steps for anyone interested.

cam’s somewhat incomplete bookbinding guide

please note that i am an AMATEUR hobbyist. please do not actually use this as a tutorial.

oh also!! bookbinding terminology will have a * by it which will be explained at the end in order to make this flow better. i’ll also link the tutorials i used at the end of this for anyone interested.

1) Formatting the document! I downloaded the original text as a PDF, and then designed a cover page, grabbed some art from the internet (i know, frowned upon, but this is just a personal copy so it is what it is), and then designed a table of contents and chapter icons!!

*side note! i added which episodes each chapter follows to the table of contents (pictured below) as this book was written as an accompaniment to TOS and the movies.

2) Next, I printed out all NINE HUNDRED PAGES??? admittedly i could have done it in less if I’d used a bigger page size, but sending things out to be printed is expensive so we made do. after printing, i folded them into signatures*.

*there’s an additional note about the paper i used at the end

3) punching out holes in all the signatures! although not technically necessary, I honestly don’t think i would’ve been able to sew this behemoth without doing it.

4) sewing the pages into a real!! actual!! book!! this was the part i was most nervous about. i’ve NEVER attempted to sew anywhere near this large of a book before, so i tried out a new method of sewing in hopes of making it a bit more sturdy. we won’t know if it worked until this book endures some wear and tear, but i’m pretty optimistic!

5) next up is glueing the spine! this is where it really hit me that a lot of bookbinding is just…glueing shit together. later i also added cardstock to the spine in hopes of helping it adhere to the cover better, and a book headband* for decoration.

5) now we’re onto the book cover!! they only sell bookboard in minor bulk around here, so we’re not even gonna discuss how much bookboard i now own… anyways! i glued the faux leather onto the bookboard and then let that dry.

6) last up! off to the cricket! a huge thank you to my friend for letting me borrow her cricket AND supplies! anywho, this is where i designed my cover art. i then adhered the design to the cover. after this step, i realized i…definitely need some kind of sealant - so, if any more seasoned bookbinders have suggestions for this i am all ears!!

all in all, this was a super fun project, and a great way to kill some time while i recover from surgery! i absolutely plan to bind the sequel at some point, but that may be a…ways away. i’m a STEM major and school starts back up soon so…time will be in short supply lol!

To be continued...

Terminology

*signature: group of sheets folded in half, to be worked into the binding as a unit.

*book headband: just look up a picture if you’re curious because tumblr says i can't add any more pictures lol.

*about the paper!! i actually got it from a local specialty paper store, but if you want something similar i've heard amazon has some good bookbinding alternatives!

Tutorials

please PLEASE go check out Jess Less on youtube. she's phenomenal. here are her vids and what i used them for.

don't laugh!! i actually stole MOST of my techniques straight from this video.

i used this one to help me format the book correctly! although i still ended up with some goofs haha (see: any pages on the left side have the page number in the margin LMAO).

[teejaystumbles]

Against all odds (part 2)

Part 1

Dream unmakes the latest nightmare he's been working on for the umpteenth time and heaves a humiliatingly human sigh of relief when the glass dissolves back into sand again. This is not working. Perhaps confronting his fear head on is not a good idea.  Instead of continuing his work he casts out his awareness, looking for a certain someone.

Hob Gadling is not currently asleep, but he seems to be daydreaming quite a lot. As much as Dream tries not to pry he can’t help but curiously skim over his friend’s imaginings. Has Hob read Dream’s journal entry yet? How has he reacted to it? Dream is prepared for resentment, disgust even, for Dream’s failure to meet with Hob, and his flimsy excuses. What he perceives instead are snatches of misty, rainy skies that blanket a multitude of wistful and fragile thoughts Dream does not dare look closer at. Hob seems to be lost in nostalgic memories, both sad and fond.  The lack of rage or hurt makes Dream relax a fraction. Later, when Hob sleeps, he will visit his friend’s lodging again to try and see if he has written an answer to Dream’s entry.

-

Dream steps out of the shadows of Hob’s curtains and gazes at the sleeping man. This time Hob has put on appropriate sleepwear and has pulled the blankets over himself. His sleep is restless, his dreams having a certain sense of urgency Dream can feel, but he does not intend to be here long.

He steps up to the desk and looks at the notebook. It lies open again, pen by its side, as if in invitation. Pulse thrumming with excitement, Dream eagerly bends over the pages to read the newly added words.

June 8th, 1989

Dearest stranger, my friend! 

I can't believe I am allowed to call you that! Let me tell you that I nearly fainted when I found your message in my notebook this morning. I've read the words you've written a hundred times by now and still I almost can't believe them to be real. I can’t believe I’m touching the pen you must have held, that I missed your presence in my room

As devastated as I was after you didn't come yesterday, as happy am I that you chose to contact me after at all.

I'm quite embarrassed about my drunken ramblings that you must have read. There's no lie in them, but I would try and put the truth into less desperate words if I could. I must seem like a fool, fixating on you like this, after all we've only met six times so far. Still, what I wrote, that you are my one constant in life, is nothing but the truth. Our meetings are fixed points in time that I measure this immortal life of mine by now. I try not to, but meeting with you has often felt like the start and finish of an era of Hob Gadling, despite it being probably more in the middle of several. Every centennial meeting with you was the most important appointment that I would plan and prepare for (as best as I could) for months, sometimes years. So if writing to you like this is the only way I get to speak to you then I will gladly take it, and thank you for it. 

But make no mistake, dear stranger - I would love to see you again and I hope you will be ready and willing to meet me in person again someday. Because

Dream stops reading to collect himself for a moment. Hob is not angry at him. He still wants to meet Dream, in fact eagerly awaits him. Dream feels himself flush with strange longing and can’t help a rush of power escaping him, the equivalent of a shudder, of goosebumps. A mistake, he realises, as he hears a sudden gasp come from behind him.

He freezes.

“My friend? Is that you?”

The urge to not acknowledge Hob and simply disappear is so strong that Dream feels his form already dispersing. Hob’s desperate tone of voice, cracking at the end, stops him.

“Please wait! Please…”

Dream waits, frozen, unable to turn around and face his friend. His form is trembling, rattling, whisping around him like smoke and Hob makes a keening noise.

“You don’t have to- I won’t-”

A sigh, a calming intake of breath.

“Look. I don’t want to pressure you, and if you want to leave I obviously cannot stop you. But…maybe. We can talk? A bit?”

He sounds so hopeful, so sincere, it tugs at something inside Dream and makes him shut his eyes. Hob has not moved from where he sat up in bed but Dream can feel his restlessness, his daydreams of reaching out, of hugging Dream-

“There’s- there’s phones now, you know? You don’t have to look at me at all, we could talk no matter where you are, it’s amazing really-”

“Hob.”

The man immediately stops talking and Dream draws in a deliberate breath before turning around to face him. Strange, how such human mannerisms help him calm down now. After his imprisonment, the act of breathing feels like a luxury to him, a comfort all in its own.

Hob gasps again when he looks at him and Dream wonders what he sees. The man swallows heavily and his fingers nervously grip his bedding. His eyes are red-rimmed and Dream can see tears gathering at the edges, in the tiny wrinkles created by a life full of laughter. The wrinkles deepen as Hob breaks into a grin.

“Hello, old stranger. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Dream very much doubts that. He knows he still looks emaciated, despite all the power returned to him. His form echoes the unease he still feels a lot of the time. He is closer to a nightmare than a dream. Yet Hob seems to genuinely delight in seeing him and Dream feels himself flush with warmth, and embarrassment.

“I- it is good to see you, Hob. Apologies, for not-”

“Accepted. Forgiven. Forgotten,” Hob interrupts him eagerly, “You’re here now.”

“I am...”

He is, and he feels at a complete loss for words. Hob cocks his head slightly, his expression sobering.

“But you were rather…not…?” he asks with a small frown. Dream twitches, caught out. Why it is that this human can see through him so easily he will never understand. It is slightly…terrifying.

Hob looks at his hands gripping his blanket and says quietly, “Look, if talking isn’t- if you’d rather continue the writing, that’s fine. I will accept that. I-”

He stops and Dream can see him grind his teeth. He still feels unable to respond, caught in watching Hob Gadling go through several inexplicable emotions. Then he breathes harshly through his nose and looks back at Dream with a tense but genuine smile.

“I don’t know what happened to you, but I know something did. You wrote as much, and I can see it in your face. The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable. So if it’s me-”

He swallows again and blinks rapidly, like he’s trying to hold back tears and Dream takes an involuntary step forward.

“It is not. You. Hob. It’s…”

Dream subsides, again unsure how to voice his insecurities, unbecoming as they are of one such as him. 

But Hob does not know what you are, a small voice whispers inside his head and Dream shivers. 

Hob does not know who he is. Has Dream not confessed that that is exactly why he enjoys the man’s company so much? Without knowledge of Dream’s power and function, Hob will not judge him for being…frightened. Of tight spaces. Of glass. Of people. He will only see his friend, in need of comfort.

Dream suddenly wants nothing more than to let Hob comfort him, knowing that the man before him, with his eyes full of hope and tenderness, would not send him away. He can finally speak.

“My friend. I have tried to work through some issues I have…accumulated over the last century, due to very. Unfortunate events. Yet exposing myself to these uncomfortable sensations again…has not had the therapeutic effect I wished for. I am at a loss how to overcome my reluctance to…mingle. Once again.”

Hob looks wide-eyed at him, frowning again. “Wait. Are you saying. You tried to treat yourself with exposure therapy? To what, exactly? If I may ask,” he adds hastily.

Dream shifts nervously.

“...Claustrophobia. Among other things.”

“Jesus,” Hob gasps and wipes a hand over his face, “yeah, I don’t know if, I don’t know, shutting yourself in is really helpful with that. How fast have you been taking things? Have you tried being in larger rooms first, or…” he trails off and looks around his bedroom.

“Are you fine in here? Do you need me to open a door or window?”

Dream is perplexed. Instead of asking what happened Hob’s immediate concern is for his comfort in the current situation. He relaxes a fraction at the realisation that he made the right choice. His friend will not judge him for his weakness.

With a small smile he says, “No. I am alright. Your rooms are. Not uncomfortable to me.”

Hob almost glows at his words and also relaxes a bit. Dream has basically admitted to feeling safe in Hob’s presence and clearly the man has understood that immediately. He is a lot smarter than Dream ever gave him credit for. Hob Gadling has learned a lot about people in his life, it seems. Even if Dream is not exactly people, his current troubles are very human, he supposes.

He sees the moment it hits Hob, when he puts two and two together and realises what Dream has been telling him.

“You said, issues you’ve accumulated…over the last century. Which means, you weren’t claustrophobic before- my friend,” he exclaims and scoots closer to the edge of the bed as if barely holding himself back from approaching Dream.

“What happened? Can you- would you-” Hob asks, his voice trembling a bit, his eyes wide. “Tell me? Please? I want to help,” he says in a very small voice that makes Dream again feel sorry for how he treated his friend in the past. He looks at the notebook, contemplating.

“It is. Hard for me, to speak about these things. Maybe…I can borrow this book? To-”

“Yes! Absolutely! Take it! Sorry, I mean, please, feel free to write to me, I would be delighted. If it makes it easier for you to talk about things…I understand,” Hob says, nodding vigorously. Then he hesitates.

“Does this mean…we won’t see each other again? Until 2089?”

He looks so openly horrified and sad at the idea that Dream immediately dismisses any thoughts he had of saying goodbye for a hundred years once more. In truth, he does not think he would have managed it himself. Writing to Hob is preferable when it comes to confessing what happened to him, but Dream has to admit to himself that he has missed seeing his friend, and he has not looked his fill.

“No. I would like to meet you again. Earlier. I am not sure when, but…I wish to. Introduce myself. After I have given you a more detailed account of my century. I would also like to listen to your own tales. In person.”

Hob beams at him and nods.

“Yeah, I’d love that. My friend,” he says, taking a steadying breath, “I am so very happy to see you. I hope you know that you coming back to talk to me, or write to me, means everything to me. Because I do not take our friendship for granted. Far from it. It is…very precious to me.” He swallows heavily and his smile wobbles a bit. Dream nods awkwardly, feeling embarrassed by the way Hob’s words make shadowy, star-speckled butterflies escape from the back of his coat. He hopes Hob doesn’t see them.

“I…yes. Thank you, Hob,” Dream says awkwardly and then takes the book from the desk. He carefully tucks it into his coat and turns to leave. He looks one last time at his friend, taking in his sleep-mussed dark hair and his gentle smile and feels again a strange pang of longing in his chest.

“Take all the time you need,” Hob says softly, and Dream knows he means it; means that he will be waiting for Dream, no matter how long it takes. Dream can only nod silently again and then, with more reluctance than he would like, leaves Hob Gadling’s bedroom behind.

Part 3

[igotyupls]

Big Score

WC: 1100? Anyway, took this from my previously written wattpad book, took that down, cause Jesus looking back my writing was horrendous, so is this, just a little proofreading but it still is shit, only posting this cause I feel bad lmao, I just need like a few hundred words to finish the two actual stories I was going to post but I can’t move my right arm without feeling like my sides on fire so anyway, at the time of writing this like in 2021, I replayed gta5 for the nth time so this is based off of that just a shittier, lamer, bs rendition lol

"Ready?" Y/N asked his partner Trevor as they sat in the getaway-car waiting for the right time to rob the bank.

"Oh fuck yeah I am" Trevor replied to Y/N in his equally "excited" voice.

"Our big score huh” Y/N emphasized , putting on his mask while T does the same, and jumping out and making their way into the bank,

Opening the door, and rubbing inside inside as T took down the security guard hitting him in the back of the head. While Y/N jumped over the counter,

"EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU GET BACK FROM THE COUNTER AND ON YOUR KNEES" He yelled, waving his M762 at the few workers In front of him.

Luckily , they listened scared shitless for their lives as Y/N took their phones in tandem with T, who’s taking the phones from the customers, once done,

"Bank manager, Get the hell up!" Y/N barked, and after a few seconds a man in his late 50's got to his feet.

"Not you!" Y/N said shoving the man back on the floor, and pointing towards a woman, "Her" he says, staring dead straight at the actual bank manager.

"EVERYONE GO TO THE FUCKING FRONT!" Y/N yells, making the rest of the workers go around to join the customers, quivering on the marble floor,

While he drags the manager unceremoniously towards the vault, as Trevor deals with the rest, keeping an eye on them

"When is the time lock going to be released ?" Y/N asks her, even though he knows when,

"At around 9 a clock" the manager blurt out shuttering through her sentence.

"Don't lie to me, it's gonna be released at 08:30, I fucking know that shit!" He says shaking her with one hand as he grits his teeth, eyes steely behind his mask, before gruffly letting out a breath

"Listen, I won't hurt you, but that dude over there ," Y/N says as calmly as he can while pointing at Trevor, who's taunting the others with his gun, like a mad man if not a pure lunatic,

"I can't say the same thing for him, so don't get yourself killed for somebody else's cash" He says patronizingly shaking her shoulder, while watching the clock, only 15 seconds left on it, "Alright, open it" He tells her once the clock reaches 08:30.

She shakes, both from the fear and the adrenaline raving inside her body but she gets it open and then gets dragged inside with Y/N while he starts shoving cash in his bag,

Once the bag's filled to the brim, Y/N leads the manager back to the front where everyone else is,

That's when he sees T talking to a female customer and harassing her, scoffing in frustration, Y/N pulls him back,

"You're supposed to be looting the drawers, you horny fuck!" He says bewildered to say the least,

Making Trevor wave his hand dismissively, blabbering a lame excuse "I already did, fucking hell, I'm just having a little fun." Smirking a little, "I'm thinking I might take her with us-" he says, only to get shutdown,

"That's not happening, T" Y/N says pretty straightforward..

But of course; Trevor doesn't get simplicity, "This is the big score and I'm gonna do whatever the fuck I want" he says before pushing Y/N, almost making him drop his loaded bag, while he saunters to the woman, "Come here girly"

*THUNK* he falls short however as Y/N, smacks him with the back of his M7 knocking him into oblivion, followed by a thud as the heavy bag of loot falls from Trevor's shoulder,

"You fucking idiot, T" Y/N mutters, kicking Trevor's unconscious body, before checking his watch, no time to waste but he needs that second loot bag,

"Ay, you" He calls back pointing to a brunette woman, kneeling in the corner with the rest of the customers, "What's your name?"

"Lisa" The said brunette says back, astonishingly less afraid than the rest,

Y/N nods, "Okay Lisa. You are going to pick up my friend's bag and come with me" He says kicking the bag, making it skid to Lisa,

"no, she won't " some wannabe macho-man suddenly yells as he gets to his feet and stands in front of Lisa, angering the already fiery rage in Y/N,

"don't be a hero today, you'll get killed" He says deathly calm, hand already on his trigger, he didn’t come in thinking he’d kill, but now he doesn’t care,

But people do say, women are smarter than men, as Lisa inches closer,

“I'll come, just-, don't hurt the others " she says shakily, but it seems fake as she brushes past the so called blubbering hero and hurls up T's bag.

Y/N pulls her in front of him, using her as a human shield,

"Dont any of you dare follow us, otherwise you'll also be on the ground like him" Y/N says pointing towards T, while he kicks him again for good measure,

Getting out of the bank while making sure Lisa was in front of him, he rushed to the getaway car, shoving her quickly in the passenger side and tossing the loots in the back, he runs to the driver's side, driving away as quickly as he possibly can.

Speeding out of the city fast, at a constant speed and the constant feel of the silence around him and the dewy brown eyes on him,

Y/N finally stops the car inside one of the tunnel entrances under a random bridge, “Yes?" He says quirking one eyebrow, but of course she doesn’t answer so he takes off his mask, throwing it carelessly wherever,

"T had it coming, okay?" He says shrugging while faux jutting his bottom lip,

"Yeah, I guess so, but I didn't think you would knock him out , like actually, Y/n" she finally says, with a chuckle, and a shake of her head,

“Meh” is all Y/N says shrugging, seeming almost childish and not the big; bad robber from just minutes ago,

They stare at each other for a few more seconds before breaking into smiles, "we get extra money this time huh?" she speaks up again,

Y/N nods with a cheeky smile, pulling her into his chest and pecking her temple, “Mhm” he answers lazily while hugging her, as police cars zoom past the tunnel entrance sirens blaring,

But Lisa just hugs his arm, not even flinching, “I love you" is all she says snuggling closer

a/n: yikes man, what was middle schooler me thinking, this is deffo getting removed once I start posting “sophisticated” one shots lmao🥲

[luvsturniolo]

— ★ !! movie night

pairing : chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis : what i think it would be like to watch a movie with chris

a/n : u guys are dating in this !!

wc : 0.5k

"what movie do you wanna watch?" you ask chris, who is sprawled out across his bed, taking up all the space.

he texted you earlier today, begging you to have a sleepover. you told him no at first because you didn't feel like leaving your house. but he kept asking and asking, so you finally agreed to him. and here you are now, scrolling through netflix to find a good film.

"uhhh," he trails off, rolling over so he's now laying on his stomach. he throws his head back to lay it in your lap. you looks down at him, raising an eyebrow at his childish behavior. "i wanna watch something funny, but like with a plot. y'know?"

"so basically any adam sandler movie." you point out.

"yes!" chris says, excitedly.

your guys' relationship is completely built off of your very different ways of communication. when chris gets excited, his thoughts jumble together and his words come out in a messily put together paragraph.

"it's as if there's no punctuation at all and fifty percent of what you're saying is misspelled." matt told him once, comparing chris's grammar to an essay written by a toddler who can't even speak yet.

chris oftentimes gets stressed out when he can't put his thoughts into words. so you always tell him to just throw shit out there and you'll figure out what he's trying to say. and you always do – which is one of his favorite things about you.

"what about murder mystery?" you suggest, pulling the movie up on the tv screen for him to read the synopsis. "i've already seen it like a hundred times, but i'll gladly watch it again if you want."

"i've never seen it." chris says.

"what!?" you shout. "it's a classic! how have you not seen it!?"

chris laughs at your shocked expression. "let's watch it now, then. you'll be able to see my reaction."

you happily agree to his terms as you press play on the movie. as the opening scene takes place, you get comfortable by getting under the blankets and laying on your side to watch the film.

chris leans back beside you, making himself the little spoon.

as the movie plays, chris is so dramatic to the point that he sounds like the soundtrack that's play during the disney shows. he laughs at the funny scenes and gasps at the shocking ones, making 'oohs' and 'ahhs' like a movie critic.

however, when the huge plot twist is revealed and you expect chris to gasp, he's silent. you lean forward to look at him only to see that he's fallen asleep.

"chris," you say his name gently.

"i'm awake." he tells you despite his eyes being shut and his voice coming out raspy.

"sure you are." you respond with a laugh.

"i swear i am." chris mumbles out a lie, shifting a little bit so he can cuddle up into your arms better. his face is laying against your arm as you can feel your limb beginning to fall asleep. you ignore the fuzzy feeling in your arm and hold him against you.

you smile with a sigh, turning off the tv and holding him in your arms as you fall asleep as well.

tags : @kasqnxx @lvrsparadise

[visorforavisor]

as an Irish (we don’t call it “Gaelic”, ever) speaker and a Sunny fan, I thought it would be fun to do a bit of a post about the Irish-language scene in The Gang’s Still in Ireland, because it’s not a scene I see widely discussed but I adore it.

some background. I am not a native Gaeilgeoir (Irish speaker) — my first language is English — but I started learning it age five and have always had very high grades in it and a huge love for it. I was hugely excited about Charlie Kelly being able to read Irish in the previous episode, and even more so when he turned out to be able to speak it.

Colm Meaney, the actor who plays Shelley Kelly, grew up in Ireland and as such would have learned Irish throughout his time in school. (this has been required by law more or less since Irish independence, and it was already quite common before that. nowadays, you can get exemptions for things like dyslexia but otherwise you have to do it.) this is clear in his ease with the language. (I will do a post about where in Ireland Shelley lives at some point, because there aren’t many areas where Irish is the principal language, but that is for another day!) both the actor and the character have easy and good Irish.

Charlie Day, as an Italian-American, obviously does not actually speak the language and presumably learned the lines as a bunch of gibberish sounds. (nonetheless, some of his pronunciations do suggest he had the words written down non-phonetically too.) his delivery of the lines is god damn amazing. Charlie Kelly’s Irish is not remotely American-accented. if I heard someone speaking Irish like that, I’d assume they sounded Irish when speaking English. he doesn’t even sound neutral in Irish; he does actively have an accent (the word choices are more non-regional, not pointing to any of the three distinct dialects, but this makes sense as the same is true of Shelley’s Irish). his pronunciation is so on point and his accent is seriously just a delight to listen to. that’s serious effort to have been put in by an American in a show that routinely makes fun of Irish-Americans! I cannot stress enough how cool it is to see my national language like this and how good a job he does.

as a side note, Charlie Kelly finding Irish much easier to read than English makes total sense! he clearly has dyslexia, as well as intellectual disabilities and autism, so literacy being tricky is totally fair, but is probably being made worse in English by how much of a god damn ridiculous illogical irregular mess the language is. English has around two hundred irregular verbs, and that’s before we even begin to consider the irregularity of its spelling. Irish has eleven irregular verbs, multiple of which are only irregular in one tense. its spelling is entirely consistent and, once the rules are known, any word (pretty much) can be flawlessly pronounced from reading it or flawlessly spelled from hearing it. (I promise Irish names make sense. just not if you try to use English rules on them. the languages are very different!) Irish is one of the most regular languages out there.

so, I thought I’d go through the actual scene. I’m going to put each line, the direct translation, the subtitle provided, and a comment. hopefully this will be interesting to someone other than me!

·—·

“is mise do pheannchara, a Charlie.” (Shelley)

direct translation: “I’m your pen pal, Charlie.”

subtitle provided: “I’m your pen pal, Charlie.”

okay, so they translate “pen pal” two different ways in this scene. the first, used here, is “peannchara”. this is a compound word, much like all those long words you get in German. it’s a perfectly good choice given there is no one standard choice for translating that concept.

“tá brón orm, ach ní thuigim cad atá ráite agat. is féidir liom gibberish a léamh, ach ní féidir liom í a labhairt.” (Charlie)

direct translation: “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you’ve said. I’m able to read gibberish, but I’m not able to speak it.”

subtitle provided: “I’m sorry. I don’t understand what you just said. I read gibberish, but I don’t speak it.”

I would slightly disagree with the subtitles here. the “just” bit isn’t expressed at all. in fact, there is no Irish equivalent to that word, and we often just use the English one in the middle of an Irish sentence because of this. however, I expect that RCG (Rob McElhenney, Charlie Day, Glenn Howerton) wrote the subtitles and then handed them to an Irish translator, in which case the translator did a perfectly good job. a couple of notes about the use of “gibberish” here. I love it. firstly, we totally do drop English words into sentences like that. secondly, I really like the choice to use the feminine form of “it” here (that is, to make “gibberish” a feminine noun). all languages except English are feminine nouns in Irish as a rule, so it’s just a lovely detail calling back to the fact that Charlie thinks of it as the gibberish language. also, Charlie Day really does absolutely nail that voiceless velar fricative (the consonant sound in “ach”, as in Scottish “loch” or any number of German words), a sound even many natively English-speaking Irish people are lazy about. good on him.

“níl aon ciall le sin. sé á labhairt anois!” (Shelley)

direct translation: “there’s no sense to that. it’s being spoken now!”

subtitle provided: “that doesn’t make any sense. you’re speaking it now!”

I adore the phrasing of the first sentence here. thoroughly authentic. there are much more obvious ways to phrase it, but this is absolutely what a native speaker might go with. same goes for the second, actually. Colm Meaney says the second line in a sort of shortened way (same idea as how we might turn “do not” into “don’t”) so I’ve struggled slightly with how to directly translate it. interestingly, Shelley categorises “gibberish” as a masculine noun here, but this isn’t really wrong since it doesn’t have an official grammatical gender due to not being an actual Irish word. just a little odd. also, to fit better to the subtitle of the second sentence, I personally would’ve gone with “tá sé á labhairt agat anois” rather than “tá sé á labhairt anois” (the full version of what Shelley says), as this includes the information of by whom it is being spoken.

“’s é mo dheartháir mo chara pinn.” (Charlie)

direct translation: “it’s my brother that’s my pen pal.”

subtitle provided: “but my pen pal is my brother.”

firstly, to be clear, the nuance of the sentence structure here is not captured in either of the above translations because there simply is not an English equivalent to it. secondly, Charlie uses a contraction here by shortening “is é mo dheartháir mo chara pinn”. super cool. also, there’s that other translation of “pen pal”! this one is “cara pinn”, which uses the Irish genitive case (the word mutates instead of using an equivalent of the English word “of”; this case also exists in other languages including Swedish, German, Latin, and Greek). I like this translation very much too. both work! Charlie Day again delivers this line really nicely, even stressing the word for “brother” (and pronouncing its initial consonant mutation absolutely gorgeously)! I am truly very impressed.

“níl aon fhírinne le sin, a mhic. ’s é do chara pinn… d’athair.” (Shelley)

direct translation: “there’s no truth to that, son. it’s your pen pal who is… your father.”

subtitle given: “no son. your pen pal is your… father.”

so, I really disagree with the first sentence of the subtitles here. it works, but also misses a lot of the beautiful nuance that could have been got. I would have gone with “that’s not true, son” or, more likely, “that’s not right, son”. I also disagree with the placement of the ellipsis in the second sentence, as you see (and my frustrations in translating this sentence structure to English continue, as well). however I like the use of “a mhic” (“son”) here, very much. this is a mutated form of “mac”, meaning “son” (yes, as in all of those Irish surnames; they all just basically say who the person is the son of). it carries both meanings that exist in English: an actual son, but also the use of the word as an affectionate way to refer to any man younger than the (usually male) speaker. this is a really nice choice.

·—·

so, yeah! those are my thoughts. feel free to ask any questions you like. I love this scene so much. as well as the reasons above about how good the translation and delivery is, I also love two other main things about this.

firstly, the level of dignity given to the language. Sunny makes fun of Irish-Americans all the time, but doesn’t really do the same to Irish people from Ireland, which I like (I do also wanna talk about Mac and Charlie as members of the Irish diaspora because it is so so interesting, but that is for another day). Irish as a language is not often given dignity, especially in American or English media, so I really love that it isn’t the butt of the joke here.

secondly, that such a significant scene is delivered through this language. just wonderful. after fourteen and a half series, we finally discover the biological father, and the scene cannot be separated from this beautiful language. it just is so perfect.

RCG, and of course Charlie Day in particular, we Gaeilgeoirí (Irish speakers) thank you! our little language made it to the screens of so many people around the world.

I hope this was interesting haha.

·—·

edits: fixed some things I mistyped.

[littlemisstfc]

Transformers One: Is It Good Or Nah?

Hello, hola、こんにちは。So…it’s been 84 years since I’ve last written on this side of the Hundred Acre Woods. For that, I do deeply apologize for my absence aksksksjsjsj. Anyways…so the Transformers franchise, in terms of the movies, has a very shaky history.

We all know the Transformers movies; it’s pretty known by now that the movies are just a rollercoaster of quality. For every Bumblebee, there will always be a Revenge of The Fallen. When it comes to me specifically, I have a very complicated relationship with this aspect of the franchise for a better part of my life. The original G1 movie is okay. The first movie is alright, ROTF is Satan’s spawn, DOTM is good, AOE is a chaotic mess that I both hate and love, and the less said about TLK, the better. Then, a miracle happened in the form of Bumblebee (2018) and it sets the path of redemption for these movies. It continues with Rise of The Beasts and while it’s an 8/10 movie for me, it’s still a great movie that continues the momentum. Now, it brings us to today.

I wanna bring this up before talking about Transformers One because you will not believe me when I say that this movie is EVEN BETTER THAN LITERALLY EVERYTHING ELSE IN THE FILM SERIES. YES, IT OUTDID EVEN THE GREATEST TRANSFORMERS MOVIES BY A FREAKING LANDSLIDE. JUST…how did we even get a movie like this? The fact that it exists is truly the most mind boggling, yet pleasant surprise so far in the series to date. Words cannot describe the experience I have gone through at this moment. Just…what did we do to get something this incredible and this damn good. Amazing is an understatement; Transformers One is easily the best Transformers movie to date.

The way it gives us genuinely some of the best moments in Transformers history is an indicator of the majesty they wanted to make. Sure, no movie is truly perfect. However, for this one, the amount of things to discuss and think about is something that rivals even the most complex media such as Earthspark and Animated. So what am I doing here standing around for? Let's talk about a movie about two bros chilling in an Energon mine, five feet apart cause they’re not gay! :D

For this review…I’m going to give this movie’s pacing the respect it deserves (due to how crucial it is to the story) by highlighting the most important details I want to talk about in order. After we get the nitpicks and other good stuff out of the way, I’m so excited to unleash all the inner brainworks in my head at the moment. So let’s goooooo.

3, 2, 1, Pingu.

(Also, I will be going into spoilers, so Sparknotes version: it’s a rare 10/10. ✨)

The Good, The Bad, and The Badassitron

Let’s go get the nitpicks out of the way. I say nitpicks because they thankfully don’t drag down the movie for me. First things first: I wish that the main trio of Decepticons (Doritoscream, Soundwave, and Shockwave’s boobs) play a much bigger role here. I felt like how we got from Starscream in charge to now all of sudden loyal to Megatron after having the crap beaten out of him is where the movie could benefit from a few minutes more to the runtime. To me, their loyalty to Megatron by the end is something that needs to be earned. However, like I said, it didn’t bring the movie down for me because they’re not the focus here, The focus is on Megatron’s relationship with Optimus. We’ll get there when we get there. Bee’s fine for what he is, but I feel like he can be cut out of the movie and replaced with someone else. The story would be as it is, like he really doesn’t have much of a reason to be here. However, like I said, he’s fine for what he is. The only other nitpick I have is that it’s weird that the Quintessons have little to no direct involvement in the main conflict, since it’s their rule that led to this mess in the first place. However, since we’re getting two more movies, I’m curious to see how this is gonna play out in the future. Anyways, that’s all I have to say about the issues I have with the movie, so let’s get to the good stuff…EVERYTHING ELSE.

Oh my god, the music score? Easily among my favorite scores in Transformers media to date. The way it not only incorporates music from shows such as Transformers Prime so beautifully, but it gives the world so much life and majesty that is straight out of a Biblical epic. The ending song at the credits reminds me so much of On My Soul, just what an utter bop. Of course, I also need to mention the biggest highlight of this movie…the animation. Oh my god, this movie is utterly gorgeous. Not only are the settings so vibrant and brimming with life and personality, but I absolutely adore the facial expressions on the characters. I’m glad that it’s emotive enough to not fall into the Uncanny Valley, and the characters felt so real. I especially love Orion’s facial expressions, because of how well they convey his growing heartbreak and loss of innocence over the course of the story that we’ll discuss later here. Overall, the music and animation are good enough reasons why you need to see this movie on the big screen. Just…MMMMMMM. Delicious food.

The characters are also really likable and enduring. I wasn’t sure if I was gonna like Badassitron going in, but honestly, he’s a Bumblebee done well. He has plenty of funny moments and jokes, and I like how they don’t have him make quips during the more serious moments here and there. He is the comic relief done right. I’m pleasantly surprised by how they handle Elita’s character. At first, based on the promos, she seems to be the Ultra Serious Girlboss who girlbosses her way into the Elita One we all know and love. However, as it turns out, it’s revealed that she’s a neurotic, yet well meaning dork and I love that for her akskssk. I especially love how her relationship with Orion develops over time as they went to find the One Piece. She went from being irritated with his tendency to cause mischief at work and ignoring protocols to warming up to him because of his resilience and optimism (no pun intended) of their people being freed. Honestly, it’s so refreshing to see a flawed, yet likable Elita here and she’s perhaps one of my favorite iterations so far. Moving on, and oh man…where do we even begin with our good buddy Sentinel Prime. Not only is he one of the evil ass motherfuckers in the franchise so far, but he is a fantastic main villain. Just seeing this despicable bastard manipulate his way into power makes you love to hate him, he’s also pretty funny, and the way he poses a threat to our heroes provides enough interesting groundwork for the conflict between two of our main amigos. Also, shoutout to Jon Hamm. He did an excellent job at portraying Sentinel as this smug, arrogant little bitch. Just, amazing. And speaking of portrayals, the entire voice cast did an amazing job here. You can tell how much they clearly respect the characters they’re portraying while also breathing new life into them. This is what animation studios need to do; hire actors that suit the characters well DAMMIT. Other positives I have is the amount of neat cameos of our favorite blorbos in the background, the comedic timing is excellent thanks to the voice actors’ deliveries and banter with each other, and in spite of the darker tone the more it progresses, it also has a very cozy, fun feel to it due to one of the movie’s main central themes. And speaking of themes…this is where we will end the section here.

Now…I am saving the best for last. What I mean by that is that there are two characters that manage to be my favorite aspect of the movie overall. So…let’s go talk about them.

A Tale of Two Friends:

I’m struggling to use the right words to describe how I feel about Orion and Megatron. To me…they’re the true standouts in the movie for me. Their relationship is portrayed with so much care and gravity that they both felt like real people. Not only are they both likable and charming, but seeing their relationship break apart over the course of the movie is hauntingly beautiful and tragic. Trust me, it’s not the shipper speaking here. It’s so refreshing to see them together in the big screen for the first time since The Last Knight, but it’s also so interesting seeing them in a different light than what other Transformers media did. I’m starting in the order of the movie because the movie’s pacing is perfect. Every scene connects to each other perfectly and it makes room for the wild ride we’re in for.

First, let’s start with Orion.

We start the movie off with Orion breaking into the Iaconian Hall of Records and search for anything on the status of the One Piece. Then, he gets caught by some guards and a chase ensues. Right away, we get a good idea of his mischievous, yet curious personality and his determination to discover more about the surface world. He won’t take no for an answer and while it does lead to him getting in trouble often, it’s genuinely admirable to see him have the initiative to make the best of his situation in life. Then, right before he gets caught, Megatron comes in with a cart that serves as a distraction for Orion to slip away and they both head to work.

Right off the bat, we see that Megatron is the more relaxed, more cautious out of the two. He tries his best to stay out of trouble and to keep his good ol unhinged buddy alive due to his wacky shenanigans. At the same time, he also has the same kind of energy he shares with Orion in that they both keep their heads up in spite of their circumstances. Adding to the layers is Orion bringing him the Fallen sticker, which is how we get a good idea of how much they care for each other. True, they have their own frustrations with each other. Megatron is frustrated by Orion’s tendency to get in trouble, along with not recognizing his discomfort with some of the things he drags him into such as the Iacon 5000, and Orion is frustrated by Megatron keeping his head down to avoid trouble. However, they always have each other’s back and they are each other’s equals.

We also see that they’re both kindhearted people who will stand up for the little guy through risking their lives to save Jazz from the collapsing Energon mine, even though it resulted in Elita being demoted. From the start, their desire to make their world a better place is set in stone there. This is furthered strengthened by Orion standing up for Elita by flipping off Darkwing and both him and Megatron needing some milk afterwards. Also, quick side note: Orion’s sass and dynamics with the other characters is so damn refreshing. I love how he literally has no chill in speaking what’s on his mind, and I especially adore how he interacts with Elita. Pure malewife material aksksksz.

Back on track, he then drags Megatron into the Iacon 5000 so that they can prove themselves to be just as worthy as the upper class racers in the game. As they fly through the race track with mere jet packs, their fellow miners cheer for them and they were pretty close to finishing in first place had it not been for the combo of an injury Megatron got and the first place winner coming in. I’m not gonna reveal who won the race, but let me say that who won it is a pleasant surprise. Anyways, this earned the attention of Sentinel Prime and he went down to their recovery ward to personally congratulate them on their boldness in participating. He even offers them a nice ol place in his crib, which they might've accepted if Darkwing didn’t throw them down into Undertale due to his jealousy and anger. Throughout this scene, we see Orion and Megatron being validated by the Prime they’ve admired for so long for breaking out of the status quo and it lays the foundation for later on. Eventually, they met Bee, found the map to the One Piece, and ventured into the surface world while accidentally dragging Elita along for the ride. Pretty landscapes and peril later, they end up in the cave where the bodies of de Primes are at. They wake up Alpha Trion and he reveals the bitter truth:

Uh oh, it turns out Sentinel Prime is a LIAR and that he betrayed the Primes in order to be in charge of the Cybertronian population. Here…we see the innocent viewpoints of Orion and Megatron shattered permanently from here on out. While Orion reacts with anger as he should, Megatron is utterly furious with this horrific revelation. The Prime he has admired for so long, the Prime who just gave him an opportunity to move upwards just minutes ago…turns out to be a cowardly, spineless fraud that took away their autonomy to having basically a crucial organ in their bodies and to make choices for themselves. It isn’t helped by Sentinel giving up the Energon (that they risked their lives in mining for) to the very evil overlords that are responsible for their people being this way for so many generations.

What happens back in the cave is one of three excellent scenes that is borderline uncomfortable due to how realistic it is. We see Megatron essentially having a mental breakdown from finding out his life is a lie and Sentinel is a big stinker. When Orion tries to calm him down, he finally vents to him about his frustrations with Orion’s tendency to cause trouble over the years and calls him out for not thinking before acting on his impulses. It also helps that we see his patience starting to be worn thin earlier in the recovery ward and when Darkwing threw them both in the Undertale. Then, he finishes his breakdown with one simple, yet effective confession: he doesn’t want to just take Sentinel down…he wants to kill him. To say that hearing Megatron say this left me and the theater in shock is a massive understatement. It genuinely caught me off guard, but in a good way. We finally saw Megatron at his breaking point: his entire life, including being worked to death, has been for nothing. It’s a great scene because it’s an argument where you understand both perspectives here. You understand Orion’s bewilderment at Megatron’s unhinged behavior and wanting him to take a deep breath so he can clear his head while you also understand Megatron finally having enough of being a doormat for too long and Orion putting his own wants before others. Neither side is right and wrong, and I appreciate how Orion’s and Megatron’s emotions are valid here. From this point on, all hell breaks loose.

After they gain their T-cogs and the recording to cancel Sentinel on Twitter by Alpha Trion, the main amigos enjoy the euphoria of transforming for the first time. However…we see Megatron enjoying the euphoria of having the T-cog too much. After fighting off one of Sentinel’s soldiers, he forcibly takes the callout post and vows to make Sentinel pay for his crimes. When Orion tries to protest, Megatron coldly tells him to step aside or else there’ll be a problem between them. Orion’s expression here is why I love his facial expressions the most as mentioned earlier. You can see all the thoughts he’s having right now, especially the shock of seeing his best friend giving into his darker thoughts expressed back at the cave. Now, the coin is flipped. Orion is the sensible, level headed one of the two while Megatron is the impulsive, stubborn one that he always scolds Orion for being so in earlier scenes.

As they make their way back home, they ended up captured by some Decepticons and are being interrogated by Starscream and his band of mean girls. When Megatron walks away from the interrogation nonchalantly, Starscream tries to assert himself as the leader. However, it ended up breaking into a fight that quickly went HOLY FUCKING SHIT, HE NEEDS SOME MILK when Megatron overpowers him. We see a horrified Orion in the crowd and they can only look at each other. Their friendship will never be the same after that…especially now that Megatron finally got a taste of power that’s been denied to him all his life. I know that this is probably gonna be a point of contention for some people with how Megatron’s turn to the Dark Side is portrayed here, so let me provide this perspective:

How long did Megatron have these thoughts?

Given presumably how many times he had to bust Orion out of trouble, and having to keep quiet just to stay alive, you have to wonder how long he kept quiet about his frustrations and hidden rage at the circumstances of his life. From that angle, giving into his intrusive thoughts is inevitable. He just needed the push to act on them. Essentially…the poor guy needed therapy, and sadly, there are no therapists on Cybertron. 😔

Eventually, Megs and Badassitron got captured along with Starscream and several other Decepticons by Airachnid. It’s now up to Orion and Elita to team up with the remaining Decepticons left and YOU GOTTA HELP US. Here, we see Orion finally realize how badly he screwed up for not understanding how his actions affected the people he cares about over the years. It got through his head that he didn’t appreciate Megatron’s patience and willingness to protect him from the consequences. While he means well, he doesn’t realize how selfish he’s also being with the things he does in his overactive ways. Upon realizing this, he takes responsibility for the amigos being in this mess…a mess that happened because of him. That was his mistake. He is now left with no choice but to go forward and make things right by his friend and the people they love. Then…we get another one incredible scene and that is Elita’s pep talk to him.

While it starts off a bit comedic due to how this is clearly Elita’s first time with cheering someone up and Orion pointing it out, it then leads to her expressing how she always admire his optimism towards a better future for their kind and his refusal to back down in the face of struggle. It’s the embodiment of the movie’s most important message: having hope even when the odds are against you. That fact that we have such a strong theme in a turbulent era we’re in at the moment is why this scene works so well. Change starts with one person, and then becomes bigger and stronger when they continue to fight against injustice and inspire others to do the same. Thus, Elita’s pep talk gave Orion the drive to get back up and keep moving forward by teaming up with the Decepticons, go back to Iacon, and free their buddies. The theme is furthered strengthened by Orion rallying the other miners into helping him, as he now has the power to make things better for his people.

Quick side note, but Elita is an interesting foil to Megatron’s in terms of how they react to Orion’s unhinged sassy king energy. While she’s also annoyed by his tendency to get in trouble a lot, she has also admire his ability to remain optimistic even with their shitty conditions. Once he takes responsibility for his decisions, she softens up towards him and she remains his dearest friend by the end. In contrast, by the time he has apologized for his mistakes, it’s too late for Megatron. It’s clear that these two are what shaped Orion into Optimus, for better and for worst.

Meanwhile, Megatron gets tortured by Sentinel after repeatedly defying him. Then, he gets the Decepticon symbol carved painfully into his chest by the blue son of a bitch. That essentially became the straw that broke the camel’s back and it ultimately drove Megatron into a point of no return. After the other main amigos rescued the other amigos and a ROBOT FIGHT occurs, Megatron now has the opportunity to finally show Sentinel that his day of reckoning has come. Now, he must die. However, after putting the callout post on Twitter, Orion realizes what his bestie is about to do and tries to stop him. However, Megatron quickly overpowers him and prepares the final blow to Sentinel. Then…what happened next left me and the entire theater in stunned silence for a good few minutes up until one point. At first, I thought to myself:

“Ain’t no way he’s gonna do this. There’s no way they’re bold enough to have Megatron do this.”

But then…it happened. The shot from the fusion cannon meant for Sentinel ended up hitting Orion instead, sending him flying near the entrance to the planet’s core and hanging on for dear life. The moment he cries out to Megatron for help…I bursted into tears right there. His innocent perspective has been destroyed permanently, and he’s now a broken shell of his formerly spunky self. To add more salt to the wound, Megatron reaches for him…only for him to declare that he’s done saving him from trouble after one too many times. Then, he sent him falling into the core. Megatron has crossed the line, and with eyes now red with hate and pain, he finally killed Sentinel in front of a now devoted group of followers who will obey his every word. He has now become the person he has sworn to destroy…

As that’s going on, Orion’s broken, lifeless body is gently brought down inside of the core and it’s revealed that he is the one who is destined to receive the One Piece…aka, the Matrix of Leadership. Thus, he is now reborn as the Optimus Prime we all know and love. The use of a theme from the G1 movie is the cherry on top of an utterly haunting, yet powerful scene that needs to be seen on the big screen.

After he has risen and put an end to Megatron’s madness, he decides that the best option for them both is banishing Megatron and his followers from Iacon. The fact that he chose this option instead of simply killing his former best friend really speaks a lot about not only his character, but also how much their relationship has essentially been ruined by how different they are in terms of wanting change. Alas, Megatron goes off into the sunset with his followers and Optimus is left there…mourning the death of their once great bond. When it showed a memory of how they met afterwards, it made me sobbed uncontrollably. At this point, you’re left with one question:

Will they ever go back to where they were at before?

Thus, we end on a bittersweet ending…an ending of two former friends who were torn apart by the sins of the fathers and the aftermath of said sins. All there’s left to do is wait and hope that everything will be okay soon.

Overall…Orion and Megatron are what makes the movie for me. Their chemistry, their character development, and the phenomenal performances of Chris Hemsworth and Brian Tyree Henry are what makes them the most layered, most complex iterations of the characters respectively.

Conclusion: IT’S SO GOOD, YOU GUYS.

Words cannot describe how Transformers One is a phenomenal love letter to the franchise I hold very dear to my heart since I was a kid. Overall, this is a fantastic movie that you will love.

It has phenomenal characters, gorgeous animation, an amazing score, and a powerful story of how you have the power to change the world and make it better. For the very first time since Cyberverse, I award the very rare 10/10 to this film.

Please check it out. I applaud everyone involved in this project for making it a beautiful work of art for the fans. It is indeed more than meets the eye.

[eldritchamy]

Hi, its the former Feralist again.

The worldbuilding just really struck a raw nerve on first glance? On second glance it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought but it STILL infuriates me on a couple of points, mostly in implications that people failed to think through. I've calmed down about it, because it IS just kink, but there are parts of the worldbuilding that I still cannot touch without being viscerally upset.

(I could get into depth if you want, but once again, it is just kink; I don't expect kink writers to think about every last implication of their worldbuilding.)

Anyway, I am currently reading my way through Abscission, which is helping somewhat with certain things that upset me wrt disability and stuff. I'm really excited to read your suggestions!

Signed, A (Formerly) Committed Feralist

(P.S. *specific* things... What appeals to me wrt inevitability in D/s is less "I can MAKE you submit whether you want to or not" and more "We both know you'll submit, because we both know that you *want* me to dominate you", which is not always the vibe in HDG. Sometimes it is, though! And that's why I'm still here! Also that little bit near the end of Grand Folia where Celosia says something along the lines of "Its not that I'm an Affini and you're a terran and I'm better and you're lesser. Its that I would ALWAYS find you - in any time, in any place, in any form - because you ARE mine" really REALLY fucking got me.)

(P.P.S. I may have written a few hundred words of a fic about an Affini playing a convoluted game of cat and mouse with a cute, awkward, evasive little terran who may or may not be a feralist spy. The Affini can't make up her mind, because every time she catches her at something suspicious, there's always a perfectly plausible explanation! Its gonna drive her absolutely NUTS.)

It sounds like you're more into dubcon than noncon. On one hand, this is the noncon intox kink petplay bdsm scifi setting, so a certain amount of noncon is pretty baked into the world at a systematic level that you're either okay with or you aren't.

But on the bright side, there ARE fluffier options that skew more in the direction of what I think you're looking for, because the setting ALSO heavily features things like hurt/comfort, recovering from trauma, learning how to love yourself, and accepting that you deserve to BE loved and cared for by others.

Abscission is a really good one for a protagonist that consistently and very insistently reaffirms their consent at all times. Autumn is very sure about what she wants and frankly spends a lot of time bullying Solanum about not being afraid to give it to her.

From what you're saying, I think you would really like a newer story that's only 3 chapters in called Good Sensory. The tl;dr is that there's an independent human who's too ace and autistic to feel comfortable around most Affini (who tend to be very flirty and touchy and she can't stand a lot of their textures), and an Affini who is ALSO really ace and autistic instantly wants to give her the world. The Affini is VERY sensitive, patient, and accommodating with her neurodivergence and goes out of her way to be very direct about her feelings and intentions.

Marsha (the affini) literally has this internal monologue about Sally (the human): "I admittedly could twist her mind and dull her dislike of certain sensations, but it would be far more satisfying to simply alter her life such that she never experienced them in the first place."

The story was written basically in honor of how much the author (a very autistic woman) loves her very autistic partners, and the joy of giving them experiences that are comfortable for them.

In particular, I think you will REALLY like their first date in chapter 2, which is one of the most gentle and accommodating scenes I have read for all of HDG so far. It's SO sweet.

Someone in the server actually just collected a list of recommended fics that skew much more on the consensual side. NOTE THAT I HAVE NOT READ MOST OF THESE AND CANNOT PERSONALLY VOUCH FOR THEM.

Intake Interview Wild and Domestic Child of the Wilderness How To Tame A Polycule Fermata Art Exhibition Flotsam Heart Cross Pollination Surrogate Bloom Sycanthe Lantana Alone in the Dark, Together Germination Reading the Leaves Nurture and Acquisitions Perturbance A Normal Grocery Run During Which No Domestication Occurs No Gods No Masters (the primary storyline anyway) Hers to Have, Hers to Hold Petals and Vines Weeklong Stay at a J-Cafe (edited)

I AM currently about halfway through Petals and Vines and can absolutely confirm it's one of the cutest stories in the setting so far. I'm loving every minute of it. 500/10 adorable. Millie is everything, she is the light of my life and I would die for her. She's approaching DAWN levels of cute. DAWN LEVELS.

I would also add to this list:

Inosculate by SapphicSounds (the affini refuses to do ANYTHING with the protagonist until she explicitly asks for it)

Through The Looking Glass by PyxxieStyxx and TheMothCourt (the protagonist does get embarrassed/humiliated quite a bit, but she is VERY INTO IT and is given ample opportunity to back out or revoke her consent at any time, which she never does because she is having the time of her newly lesbian life right now)

I WOULD caution you against writing for the setting if you have mixed feelings about the worldbuilding, and especially if you haven't read some of the most foundational works of the setting like the original, Abscission, Divaricated, For A Better Universe, and a couple others. You should also familiarize yourself with the Rules and Axioms for the setting, as they're important for how the community functions as a creative space.

(The point is not taking things we like OUT of the sandbox to play with, it's bringing something of our own INTO the sandbox so we can play TOGETHER. But we play NICE in that sandbox, because we want the people who play in it after us to have that same joy we did. If your goal is to CHANGE something about the setting, then you're not playing the same game as everyone else in the sandbox.)

I'm pretty confident at this point that I have a good feel for the lore, vibe, and mechanics of the setting to comfortably start writing for it, but even I'm still holding off because there are some other Big Foundational Stories (Divaricated, Wellness Check, No Gods No Masters, probably Nurture and Acquisitions) that I want to experience and understand first, because when I'm ready to start contributing, I want to make sure I do it right.

Also, there actually IS a story literally CALLED Cat And Mouse, and it's one of the top 10 stories in the setting (sorted for Kudos on AO3). I cannot personally vouch for it because I haven't read it and don't know anything about it beyond that it's a Predator/Prey dynamic, but it has the same author as Good Sensory and her stories (though incredibly varied, tone wise) haven't let me down yet. Sheepwave is a very evocative writer and whatever kind of mood she's going for her in her stories, you're gonna REALLY feel that mood.

Sweet Poppy (one of her more famous stories) is a blood curdling psychological horror story. I am terrified of Poppy. She's easily the scariest Affini I've read yet. That's a HARD story to read if you can't stomach it, but it's very well done. It's the kind of story that you can't stop reading and ALSO it makes you sick to your stomach.

The only other story I've read from the setting so far that filled me with anywhere near that kind of nauseating dread was Independence Is Easy by SapphicSounds. If you're REALLY into doll kink, you might love it, but if you're not, it's absolutely a horror story. I don't regret reading it, but I was definitely way more into the first half than the second half. The protagonist DEFINITELY needed to be domesticated, but not by this specific Affini. I've seen lots of people be REALLY obsessed with it, but based on what I can gather from your tastes, I would NOT recommend this one to you.

In regards to the worldbuilding, the main thing to remember is that HDG is at its core a WILDLY SELF-INDULGENT kink setting where the most immutable aspect is that everyone deserves to be loved and cared for and given a better life. It was made by gay auDHD trans women FOR gay auDHD trans women, and the real fantasy is just that there will always be someone there who loves us unconditionally while accepting us for our truest selves and telling us that we deserve to not hurt anymore. All of the scifi worldbuilding exists to supplement that. The Affini are overpowered by design.

It's not intended to be realistic, it's intended to be wish fulfilment where inevitability is coming for you, and that inevitability is kind, and loving, and PROFOUNDLY horny.

[lemoncrushh]

Witchcraft

PART ONE NOW ON PATREON

Summary: Three hundred years after his twenty-first year on earth, Harry Styles awakens to realise his new fate, not one of a pop star, but that of a witch.

Part 1 Word Count: 5356

A/N: This is a story I started a while back. If you followed me here last year, you may remember it. I was going to wait til closer to October to repost it, but I've decided to put it on Patreon for now since I'm so behind with writing. A witchrry fic, written from his pov. Takes place in the future when Stevie Nicks is the leader of a coven.

Small sneak peek below...

Blackness. Pure dark midnight is all I see as I open my eyes. I know they’re open, though I can see nothing - no shapes or silhouettes of any kind. I’m not even sure if it’s my own bed underneath me, or if I’m actually lying on anything at all.

That’s when I hear it. It starts low, the faint muffled sounds of someone - or something. I try to lift myself, my hands grasping for whatever is beneath me, but it’s only then that I realise I’m no longer lying face down. Disoriented as I punch the air with my fist, I suddenly panic again, hoping for something to grab onto, or at least to see. Screaming into the silence, I find my voice is mute, no sound coming from my mouth, or even my chest.

The muffled sounds seem to get closer then, and I desperately reach out to where I think it’s coming from. A hand from nowhere suddenly touches mine, and forthwith my entire body begins to tremble.

Before I can protest and attempt to scream out again, the darkness slowly fades as though dawn has just broken. A golden light seems to shine up from beneath wherever it is I am lying, and two ebony eyes stare back into mine.

“It’s okay now,” a voice says, though I’m unsure if it belongs to the same figure from which the eyes belong. It sounds more like an echo from far away. “You’re safe.”

I attempt once more to make a sound, but all I can manage is a croak. I catch the red lips beneath the eyes curving up into a smile, and I’m suddenly affected by a warm sensation of contentment.

“You’re pretty,” she says.

“So are you,” I rasp, surprising myself.

She laughs, a lovely coo that excites me.

“Save your voice, love.”

I would say more despite her demand, if not for the three other figures entering the space. Turning my head - which is no doubt being cradled by the softest pillow known to man - I catch a glimpse of more lovely creatures. My heart skips a beat when it recognises the one in the center.

“Ooh, good choice, mum, he’s a dish!” exclaims the tall male figure on the right.

“Hush, Victor,” chides the middle one, a petite woman with a timeless face and hair like spun gold. “I didn’t choose him. I told you. He was already chosen.”

The woman with ebony eyes beside me, still holding my hand, gleefully chuckles once again.

“Yes,” she sings as her long fingernails graze my flesh. “Besides, he’s mine anyway. I already decided.”

“Isabel-” Victor snaps.

“Hush! The both of you!” demands the one in charge. The queen. Though my thoughts are still unintelligible, my brain still fuzzy, I know this to be true.

Her face softening quickly, leaving no trace of indignation, she steps forward. As if on cue, Isabel leaves her post, taking a new place next to Victor and the one who has yet to make a sound.

“Harry, my child,” smiles the queen as she leans forward, taking my hand. The feeling of deja vu comes over me as I hear her say my name, though I cannot quite place hers. “Welcome. We have been waiting for you.”

“Waiting…” I cough. “Where- where am I?”

“Home,” she replies, as if that was the most obvious answer.

Looking into her eyes, I study them. Though not as dark as Isabel’s, they are still a lovely chocolate shade. My gaze examining the rest of her face, I notice lines but not wrinkles. Her face is porcelain, her lips perfectly shaped. I know this face, I remind myself.

My eyes shift to her hand wrapped around mine, covered in a lace glove. Fingerless. Red fingertips. Again, familiar. Everything looks and feels recognisable about her, just as familiar as my own mother or the tattoos inked on my skin.

“I...I know you, don’t I?” I finally manage to ask, my throat incredibly wretched and sore.

“Of course, darling,” she beams at me. And almost instantaneously, I know, before she speaks it herself. “I’m Stevie Nicks.”

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[lfc21]

Parent's evening at school

Player: Trent Alexander Arnold

TW: school, children, Fluff

Promptlist: Children

"Mr and Mrs Alexander Arnold" You heard being called out from the room you were waiting outside off. You felt as if you were right back at school, sat staring at the walls constantly wondering when the bell would ring.

"Hi nice to meet you" You politely said with a smile as you both sat down in front of the wooden desk. Trent couldn't help but take his old school in, he remembered being stuck in the very same four walls. Nostalgia was the only thing he could feel.

"So I am Mrs Smith, I am Tyrone's teacher" She started with a smile as she admired the notes written on her screen. You hoped your son was as well-behaved as he made you believe but you weren't one hundred per cent sure. "He so far has 100% attendance and is reaching his targets in every subject which is incredible." She added bursting with pride.

"Even maths?" You quickly asked with a laugh as you couldn't quite believe her words.

"Yes, miss even his maths" She quickly replied with a laugh. You couldn't have been prouder. Maths was not your strong point, and every time Tyrone came to you for help you were doing more learning than teaching.

"Oh wow, I only ask as I am shocked at maths and can never help him" You explained as Trent sniggered next to you, you quickly nudged his arm with a laugh due to his childish actions.

"I would be proud of Tyrone and he admires you sir," The teacher said looking at Trent with a smile at how similar they both were.

"He is obsessed" Trent replied "I am surprised he hasn't been playing football in here" He added with a laugh knowing how naughty and playful he can be at home. You all laughed in unison. You quickly thanked the teacher for her time and wandered out of the classroom.

"I used to play football over there," Trent said to you as he pointed over to a large green field as his hand slipped into yours. You loved hearing about Trent's past stories it always sent a smile to your face. "And that was where my mum used to drop me off and pick me up" He quickly added with a large smile as he started to feel the excitement run through his body.

"You are so cute baby" You explained with a giggle as you snaked your arm around his waist with a smile. You both made your way to the car with huge beaming smiles and a son to be extremely proud of.

Hey guys 👋🏻 I hope you enjoyed this imagine 😀 there are still a few prompts left if anyone is interested 😊 I am currently taking requests 🥰 feedback is greatly appreciated ❤️ have a good day 🙏 masterlist 2022 💌 masterlist 2023 💌

@prettylittletrent @cornertakenquicklyyyy @trentalexanderarnold @robbo38 @robbothegoat @kostasstsimikass @chelseamount @chloereddy @tsimikasfamily @avenirdelight @blueathens @jordanhendersunshine @mrs-henderson @thatonesexycancerian @hendersons1truelover @nyctophilic0vitnir @peekapeaches @tsimikxs @tsimikostas @trentalexarnofan @leddows @moneymasnn @superkittywonderland @virgilvansike @virgilvandickmedown @hopefulromantic1 @robbo-trent-fanfiction26

[little-diable]

Clementine - Tommy Shelby

Written for my lovely @runnning-outof-time – congrats again on 3k!! I loved the flower garden theme paired with the song "From Austin" by one of my fave singers Zach Brian. This turned out sadder than intended, but I'm not sorry for it. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: A flower garden, their own piece of heaven for Tommy and (y/n) before the war forces them to part ways. A flower garden that may force them to cross paths again, eventually.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, public sex, mentions war, mentions death of a child, mentions death of a loved one, angst, this is quite sad.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!widowed!reader (2.7k words)

“Quiet.” His voice echoed through the night, eyes focused on her frame. He had his hand stretched out for her to take, watching her struggle with her naked feet and the dirt covered seam of her dress. “On the count of three.”

Tommy began to count, tightening his grip on her hand before he pulled her up, helping (y/n) onto the stone wall. Both were heavily panting, sitting in silence for a few seconds before Tommy shot her an excited smirk. He jumped down from the wall, swallowed by the blanket of darkness lingering around them, momentarily leaving (y/n) behind.

“Come, I’ll catch you.” Tommy’s words encouraged her, forcing her to deeply exhale before she jumped into the dark abyss, squealing into the crook of his neck as he caught her, pressing the young woman against his chest. His scent engulfed her, reminding her of tobacco, of tea, and of the melancholic feeling of being homesick. 

(Y/n)’s insides churned, caught in her thoughts. Tommy would leave in a few days, one with hundreds of men that were urged on by the need to defend their home country, ready to die amongst other soldiers. But none of them understood the severity of their situation, none of them truly understood what it meant to die for their country, not taking the shadow of death following them around seriously.

“Don’t cry, we still have time.” His rough voice rang in her ears, eyes forced to meet his piercing ones. Tommy’s soft thumbs wiped away her tears, eyes flickering down to her lips before he pulled her in for a kiss. It wasn’t the first time Tommy had kissed her, and certainly wouldn’t be the last, and yet the kiss didn’t taste of love and longing, no, there was a bitter off-taste to it, once again reminding (y/n) of their fleeting time together. 

He parted from her with a sigh, fingers interlaced with hers as he started pulling (y/n) along. She couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering, admiring the flowers blooming in the garden, hands tingling to reach out to them, wanting to cherish their beauty. The flowers would wither before he’d return, petals falling to the ground like soldiers left to die on the cold warfield, and yet (y/n) found some kind of beauty in the thought of vanitas, in the transience of life. 

“Do you remember the first time you brought me here?” Her question was met with a laugh rumbling through Tommy as they came to halt in the middle of the garden, finding shelter in the veil of night's darkness. He pulled her in once again, forehead pressed against hers, reminiscing in the memories of their past years together. 

“You were so scared they’d find us, could barely pay attention to the flowers.” It had been years since Tommy had first sneaked into the garden, climbing the high walls because of some bet with his brothers. A drunken joke that had guided him into this small piece of heaven. The night he had brought (y/n) here for the first time, he had made a silent promise: one day he’d be wealthy enough to gift her a garden this rich of exotic flowers, of scents only those with enough money would be able to recognise. 

“I am glad you brought me here that day.” A smile tugged on her lips, weight shifted onto her toes to kiss him. The kiss was slow, not rushed by their fleeting time and the adrenaline thumping through their veins, wondering when or if they’d ever be caught trespassing, both were caught in the moment, needing to feel one another before their eventual goodbye would force them to part ways. 

Tommy’s hand toyed with the buttons of her dress, slowly popping them open one by one, not able to stop his smirk from widening. As the last button was opened, she dropped to her knees, eyes staring up at him with a dangerous glint swimming in them, hoping that he’d follow her down to the cold ground. The grass stroked along her arms, trapping her in a field of safety, finally succeeding in making her forget about the future laying ahead of them. For a few moments she was wrapped in the sweet scent of the flowers, of the clementine trees growing around them, a scent forever etched into her memory.

“I love you, and I always will, even if it’s the only thing I can promise.” Tommy murmured the words into the night, hands disappearing beneath the fabric of her dress, shuffling her underwear down her legs. She was soaked, dripping for his touch, not wanting to waste any time on touches she’d forget within the passing moments, clinging onto the emotions the upcoming minutes would push through her body. 

“I love you too, Tommy.” He fumbled with his trousers, freeing his cock before he spat into his hand, pumping himself a few times as (y/n) wrapped her legs around his waist. Both moaned in unison as he connected their bodies, sinking into her tightness like a sailor arriving back home after months away. There was no time to hold still, to admire the beauty she had exposed to him, no time to kiss every part of the body he’d dream of when his nights grew darker. 

Tommy fucked her into the cold ground, leaving marks on her hips with his tight grasp, hoping that his hands would mould against the shape of her body. Her moans left his heart racing, selfishly praying to whoever was listening that no other man would ever manage to make her feel like this, even though he had made his peace with the realisation that another man will eventually warm her bed. If there was one thing he wouldn’t ask her to do, it was beg her to wait for him, he wasn’t as oblivious as the other men his young age, knew well enough of the danger war unleashed upon those fighting for their country. 

Her walls fluttered around his cock, begging him to push her over the edge, needing to let go with his name burning on her lips like a salty breeze whispering secrets. Tommy buried his face in the crook of her neck, teeth grazing along her skin as his hand found her middle, shuffling the fabric of her dress up to her waist. Her bundle of nerves pulsed against his thumb, begging him to pick up the pace of his movements. 

Curses rumbled through (y/n) as she came, letting go with her eyes squeezed shut and her back arched off the grass. Her mind tried to grasp onto the moment, hoping that she’d never forget about the highs Tommy pushed through her, making her tremble beneath him. And as he followed her down the edge, releasing himself inside of her, walls painted white, she felt her thoughts slowly slipping, drowning out the sounds of the night, only focusing on him. 

……

The mansion was quiet, only the sound of (y/n) turning the pages of her book could be heard, filling the study. She had her eyes glued to the words, reading yet another novel her husband had brought home months ago, hoping to see a smile tug on her lips. (Y/n) was deep in thought, sucked into the story as if she was living through it herself, seeing the characters all too vividly. 

She jumped in her seat as the sound of somebody knocking on her door echoed through the house, eyes forced away from her pages. From her seat near the window she could hear the hurried steps of her maid, moving towards the door to greet the men (y/n) was expecting. Once again her eyes wandered back down to her pages, trying to finish the last words of the chapter. 

Her maid called her name, stepping into the study with a polite smile lingering on her lips, murmuring a soft “They are here” towards the reading woman. And with a sigh leaving her, (y/n) closed the book, tugging on her dress to shake off the wrinkles. Her eyes found the garden laying to her feet, a place once filled with loving memories she was now running from. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat forced (y/n) to turn towards her guests, freezing as her eyes found an all too familiar pair of blue eyes. She hadn’t known who would come by to talk about the property, had trusted her neighbour’s words, promising the woman that he knew just the right person to buy her mansion. Tommy’s name left her, spoken into the quiet study like a whisper leaving her in the depth of the night. 

“(Y/n), it’s good to see you again.” Even though his eyes were all too familiar, his voice had nothing comforting to it, not soft like it once had sounded, rather rough, similar to the cold gaze he now wore to stare her down. “Is your husband around? I was told he was looking to sell the property.”

“My husband’s dead, Thomas.” Wrapped in a thick silence, the two stared at one another, eyes only breaking their contact as Arthur pushed past Thomas, opening his arms for the woman he had once loved like a sister. The hug made tears well up in her eyes, clinging to the man she had known ever since she had been a child, the man whose wellbeing she had prayed for. 

“I’m sorry about your loss, love.” Arthur squeezed her hand before he stepped away from her, allowing her glassy eyes to find Tommy’s once again. He had pushed a cigarette between his lips, blowing out a thick blanket of smoke before he took a step closer, and another, sinking down in the chair she had been sitting on minutes ago. 

“Why are you trying to sell this place?” Her insides screamed at her to move closer, wanting to feel Tommy’s hands pressed against hers, and yet she didn’t dare move. (Y/n)’s trembling hand wiped away her falling tears, deeply exhaling as she was trying to find the strength to reply, thoughts running wild. It had been years since she had last seen the two of them, years she had spent waiting for their return, and yet the relief of seeing them again had never come, not receiving one message from Tommy. 

“It’s too big for me, I have no need for so many rooms, and the flower garden is too much for me to care for. There’s nothing left to stay here for, I’m leaving for America next Saturday.” Tommy seemingly tensed at the mention of the garden, eyes wandering to the window. It took him a moment to snap into motion, to rise from his seat and to walk up to the doors leading out into the garden. She watched him step outside, silently following with Arthur lingering behind. 

“You never wrote to me, not one single letter. We were waiting for you to come back to us.” (Y/n)’s murmurs were swallowed by the deep exhale leaving his pale lips, finishing his cigarette with a tired expression lingering on his features.

“We?” A whisper quiet as the night he had last brought her to the flower garden, filled with nothing but memories and confessions. Tommy started walking, slow enough for her to follow him, allowing her to watch him take in the blooming flowers, fingers darting out to stroke along the colourful petals. (Y/n) averted her gaze, heavily swallowing as she stroked her hand along the fabric of her dress. 

“We had a little girl. Clementine Shelby, at least that’s what she should have been called.” Her throat began to tighten up, heart breaking in her chest all over again, overwhelmed by the pain clashing through her. Tommy didn’t reply, he stared at her with dilated pupils, begging her to keep on talking, to tell him of their daughter’s fate, not expecting her next words to rip his soul from his fleshcage, evaporating into nothingness like the love he had once clung to. “Her lungs were weak, ever since she was born, but I had hope that we’d find some safety away from the city, away from the constant fear, and the news that kept growing worse. But her lungs weren’t made for the cold, she died before she could even try to begin to understand the love I had for her. My husband took good care of her, of us, but god, Tommy, it wasn’t supposed to end like this.” 

“You were engaged by the time I came back, I knew he’d give you the peace you deserved, the love you needed. The war has changed me, it has changed us all, I have no love left to give. People ruin people, I don't want to ruin you. Not you. But if I had known-” Tommy shook his head, eyes finding the grey sky above. Tears welled up in her eyes once again, arms crossed in front of her chest to try and keep her sobs bottled in, not wanting to break out into a fist of cries in front of Tommy. 

“You always thought I’m some damsel in distress you had to shelter from the world outside, some porcelain that would break if you’d grasp it too tightly. For God’s sake, Tommy, I may have married him, but not because I wanted to, but to help my parents survive with the little money they had, to help our daughter. I would have left him the second you returned to us.” The tears kept falling, no longer caught by her trembling fingers, struggling to keep on breathing as he turned towards her, watching the woman in front of him crumble. 

No words left the man as he pulled her into his chest, holding her close like he hadn’t done in years. She sobbed, choking on her breaths as he held her, eyes squeezed shut to bite down the pain spreading through his body, cursing himself for ever leaving her behind. Tommy Shelby was a selfish man, and yet his try to protect her from himself had been anything but selfish, at least not to him. 

“I once promised you that I will always love you, and I never broke that promise. You deserve better than this, something I can’t give you, and if I’m honest, I always knew that I won’t be able to provide you with what you deserve. It was selfish of me to hold onto you for so long, even before the war.” Tommy’s confession made her tremble, hands tightening their grip on the fabric of his suit. It felt like all those years ago, another goodbye that had once ripped her heart in two. 

“Look at me, Tommy.” Her whispers filled the morning, eyes taking in his frame, the empty eyes of his, filled with fear, with confusion, and that biting uncertainty. Her trembling hand cupped his warm cheek, pulling him in for a kiss. “Return to me, to us.”

“I love you, (y/n).” He pressed a kiss against her palm, eyes fluttering close to relish in the moment. With a step back Tommy parted from her, sparing the crying woman one last glance. And even though he knew that there was a chance for him to return, to make it back home eventually, Tommy knew that he’d never get to feel her lips again, that he’d never be fortunate enough to cling to her with loving words spilling from their lips ever again.

“I love you too, Thomas Shelby.”

He squeezed her arms before he stepped back from her, clearing his throat to let go of the memories flushing through his mind, “We’ll buy the property, it will be in good hands. I promise.” 

She watched him turn from her with glassy eyes, making his way back into the house, where Arthur had been watching the two. Tommy disappeared from her eyesight, a ghost of old times, fading like the flowers that would be laid to rest once autumn made itself comfortable in the garden she’d never step foot in again.

[instructionsnotincluded]

True North - Sneak Peek (John "Bucky" Egan x Original Female Character)

Ok so after a handful of messages yesterday, I was feeling inspired and a little excited about the possibility of a new fandom and may have binged some of Masters of the Air late last night. I'm not quite sure where it's going to end up, but here's part of the first chapter. Testing the waters (or clouds?) to see if there's even any interest in it. OR if it's just total shit, since it's a new era I've never written for before. (If so, we can just pretend this never happened, hahaha.)

Pairing: John "Bucky" Egan x Original Female Character

Length: 1935 Words

Warnings: Language, military inaccuracies, writer flying by the seat of her pants as she tries to research more about WWII and pilots, mentally cursing herself for not paying closer attention in history class, 18+, MDNI.

“You’re flyin’ today, Frank!” 

The loud accented voice filled her ears, the brunette squinting her eyes closed tightly as she heard footsteps echoing all around the shared room, the sounds of trunks opening and closing joining in a moment later. She’d just been on the verge of a delicious dream with Gary Cooper’s character from The Westerner when Dorothy Skylar’s voice interrupted their suggestive conversation, her friend rudely butting into the fantasy.

“If you don’t get up, they’ll give your spot to the boys!”

“Ok!” Frank lifted her arm into the air, waving it around to signal she was, in fact, alive, “ok! I’m up—I’m getting up. Keep your panties on.”

“We call ‘em knickers ‘round here, love!” Dorothy’s laughter bounced along the walls, mixing in with the various posters, postcards, photos, and letters pinned above each of the beds, “if you’re going to talk about them, get it right!”

“You are all so irritating,” Frank shifted into a sitting position, the thin strap of her silk tank-top falling over her shoulder as she pressed the heel of her palm into her eye, “does no one like to sleep in anymore?”

“Haven’t had the luxury in years, darling,” Dorothy finished buckling her belt, pausing briefly in the full-length mirror as she adjusted the pins in her curls, “while you Americans have been ignoring what’s been going on across the Atlantic, we’ve been living this nightmare for years.”

“Well—at least it’s a shared one now,” Frank rested the back of her hand against her mouth as she stifled a yawn, “alright, I’m getting up. Where am I going?”

“Thorpe Abbotts,” Dorothy glanced over her shoulder to look at Frank as the shorter woman moved around her bed and over to her trunk, pushing aside piles of unfolded clothing to find her uniform, “should be a quick flight, you’ll be back before dark.”

“Maybe,” Frank disrobed and redressed once her undergarments were secured, Dorothy averting her eyes as Frank changed before messing with her hair, “we’ll see—last time I flew the airfield manager wouldn’t let me off the plane until he’d spoken to at least three men, one of whom was ranked lower than me.”

Dorothy only hummed, both women more than aware of how difficult it could sometimes be ferrying planes to and from airfields and bases, especially if the Americans were involved. It was still shocking to most men that women flew—and while the program in the US was slowly getting off the ground, the British had fully embraced female pilots, the Air Transport Auxiliary allowing women to help ferry new, repaired, and damaged aircraft between factories, plants, airfields, and squadrons. Frank had jumped at the chance to fly, to do something for the war effort that wasn’t working in a factory—she had well over four-hundred hours of flight time in the US, and while the United States Army Air Forces wasted time debating on whether or not you needed a dick to fly, she bypassed the red tape and joined the ATA shortly after Jacqueline Cochran led the first group to England. Fast forward two years later and Frank found herself an active member of the No. 6 Ferry Pool, doing whatever she could, whenever she could. 

“Are you going to see that boy of yours?” Dorothy asked, nodding towards one of the folded letters on Frank’s nightstand, the corner of it peeking out from under one of her journals.

Frank shook her head as she finished buttoning up her flight suit, the material heavy, thick, and too big for her frame before sliding on the sheepskin jacket. That was another thing about being a female pilot—there weren’t any uniforms to fit the female body, the material often baggy on her arms and legs, but tight across her hips. “He went down a few months ago over the North Sea,” Frank mentally scolded herself for not tossing the letter after she heard the news. They hadn’t been that close—a few afternoon dates when she found herself on overnight trips to London and he happened to be there, brief memories of them sneaking around hallways, bodies pressed up against walls as they sought comfort and distraction in one another. He was from Texas and smelled like home, reminding her of easier times when she was away at college, just trying to find direction in life. But like that experience, he was gone and she was left to figure out which way was North once again. 

“Frank…”

“It’s fine,” Frank reached for her bag, Dorothy pausing at the doorway, eyes cloudy with regret as she watched her friend pass her, pressing the heavy wooden door open as both women stepped out into the hallway of the dormitory the ATA housed them in, “it’s war.”

“That doesn’t mean it didn’t mean something…that it doesn’t hurt…”

“I thought you were British,” Frank pushed the emotion and tears away, scolding her heart for clenching as she turned to walk backwards, pressing a finger onto Dorothy’s badged chest, “aren’t you supposed to ‘stiff upper lip’ everything?”

Dorothy only rolled her eyes, the girls exiting the building a few moments later, the cloudy gray English sky greeting them as they crossed the pathway towards the waiting trucks, “have I ruined your flight time?” Dorothy asked quietly once they were in the back of the jeep, eyeing her friend as Frank leaned heavily against the side, “you’re not going to be distracted are you? You’re flying a Class 5 aircraft today—you need to be focused.”

“I’m fine,” Frank waved her off, “and even if I wasn’t, I’d be fine once I’m in the air. Trust me, that’s the only place my mind doesn’t wander.”

Dorothy didn’t appear convinced, but didn’t push the matter, the girls sitting in silence the rest of the ride to the airfield. Planes dotted the landscape, the tower looming in the background. Most of the planes would find homes on other bases or airfields, another tool for the boys to use in their battles. For a while it felt like production was stalling, they had so few to ferry around, but it seemed in the last year or so it had definitely picked up, so many different classes of aircraft ready to be delivered to the Allies. Frank hadn’t yet flown into Thorpe Abbotts, the Royal Air Force station just a handful of miles to the east of Diss, Norfolk. It was fairly new, having been built the previous year, but once the United States Army Air Forces took possession of the airfield, it seemed like activity was picking up. 

The boys at Thorpe Abbotts seemed to be going through planes like candy, and Frank was pretty sure this was their fifth ferry to the airfield in less than two weeks. Typically they flew to the smaller satellite bases once a month, maybe twice if there were mechanical issues, but five times in two weeks? Something was definitely going on in East Anglia. She’d heard low rumblings of the amount of planes that went down during their missions from the British pilots—the men criticizing the Americans for bombing during the day rather than waiting until evening. One conversation she overheard at dinner a few weeks ago seemed to be about the recently arrived 100th Bombardment Group and how they kept losing men to dumb tactical decisions. “It’s war,” one of the heavier accented men had said, slumped backwards in his chair as he rested a beer on the table, “you do what you need to survive.”

“...are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

Frank’s eyes snapped back to those of Commander Dorothy Skylar’s, the three gold stripes she wore on the shoulder strap of her jacket seeming to catch in what little sunlight they had today, making Frank’s two stripes seem even less important than they already felt. “Yes, sorry,” Frank shook her head and the memories away, forcing herself back into the present, “I was just thinking about Thorpe Abbotts and some of the conversations that I’ve heard in passing about it.”

“They’re losing men and planes at a rapid rate of speed,” Dorothy nodded, glancing down at the folder of papers Frank just realized the woman was carrying, “I don’t think this will be your last ferry there.”

“No,” Frank turned her head as she watched the massive Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress come into view, eyes slowly taking in the matte green of the plane, white lettering and stars decorating the wings and body, “no, I don’t think it will be either.”

The girls scrambled out of the jeep when it came to a stop, their male driver neither acknowledging nor checking with them before he sped off, Dorothy just barely clearing the rear left bumper as he turned. “Fucker,” Dorothy whispered under her breath as they crossed the tarmac, “we fly planes and he drives a jeep—yet we’re still the gum under his shoe.”

“Men are babies,” Frank said as she approached the plane, left arm extending to slide across the edge of the wing, “they move from one tit to another, starting with their mother’s, until they die.”

Dorothy laughed, shaking her head as she watched Frank move through the checklist she had memorized by now, a few of the engineers hovering nearby if needed. A younger woman, who appeared to be just barely over eighteen approached quickly a handful of minutes later, clipboard pressed tightly to her chest, “Stella Frank?”

“Captain,” Frank corrected her, the girl almost shrinking back in on herself as she looked over at Dorothy for approval, but the higher ranked commander only stared back blankly, “it’s Captain Frank.”

“Yes—yes, Captain Frank,” the woman shuffled a few papers around as Frank came to stand beside Dorothy, both women waiting as she handed over a thin packet of instructions, hand shaking as she did, “here are your pilot notes, I’m so sorry they weren’t delivered sooner.”

“Thank you…” Frank waited expectantly but the girl didn’t appear to catch on that Frank was waiting for her name, and instead smiled politely at both women before scurrying off. 

“Must you be so brash all the time?” Dorothy asked once the girl was out of ear shot, “I think today’s her first day.”

“Then she’s lucky she stumbled across me,” Frank flipped open the folder, eyeing the notes that gave her heading and speed instructions, as well as landing information, “if it’d been Ryan or Phillips she’d be on a plane back to the states right about now with wet knickers.”

“You’re not wrong,” Dorothy squinted up towards the sky, “you better get on with it—you’re due at Thorpe Abbotts in a few hours. You might get held up for a bit after you land, I think you’re ferrying back one of the planes that took heavier fire, so be safe.” Frank saluted her commander and Dorothy only rolled her eyes, “and watch for the fog, alright? I don’t know if Carol put it in the notes, but the fog around the airfield is sometimes incredibly thick. The boys may not see you until you’re landing.”

“And they have seen a woman before, right?” Frank lifted her eyebrows and Dorothy only shrugged playfully, “this isn’t one of the groups where there’s hardly any women on base and I’ll feel like a monkey at the zoo, right?” Dorothy took a few steps back in the direction of one of the metal buildings along the tarmac, a wide smile across her face. Frank only raised her voice to be heard, “right?”

“Don’t fall in love, Captain!” Dorothy called back, “we’ll see you back later tonight.”