#idk how this turned into 1400+ but it did

[todayisafridaynight]

thinking about vampiric arakawas again just so i can make a 'blood-sucking politician' joke

[likedovesinthewindd]

Hii I little angsty request but could you do one where reader comforts hobie after his Canon event?

Somthing where reader keeps rambling because she doesnt know how else to fill the silence and they end up having the- "do you want me to shut up" "No" "do you want me to leave?" "...no"- conversation

ok so in the movie itself it doesn't really go into detail ab what hobie's canon event is exactly, and a lot of theories talk about it being him killing a police captain. then there's also the shot that shows him throwing away his suit. in the comics he kills president osborne and reveals his identity so that could also be it but idk!! maybe i didn't catch it but i left it as ambiguous so that you could kinda go with whatever.

hobie brown x fem! reader

warning: mentions of death, ingury

wc: ±1400

a/n: this was slow-cooking in my damn drafts but i finally got it done.

The pelts of rain that fall against your bedroom door in their uncoordinated rhythm does little to lull you back to sleep as you thrash around in the sheets, your mind torturing you with the recurring thoughts of 'what if?'

What if he got hurt? What if he's lying somewhere, bleeding out and slipping right through your fingers? What if he was already dead, killed in cold blood by one of the many people against him and the message he so fearlessly and shamelessly carries with him.

You turn around in bed once again, willing the thoughts away as you try to focus on something less pessimistic.

You haven't heard from Hobie in days, haven't seen him even longer ago. It wasn't uncommon for him to dissappear like this—you almost expected it from him considering what he did—but it's never been this long before. The longest he's been gone was four days. It's been ten today.

You knew he could take care of himself, and you knew he could protect himself well. Hell, you've both heard and seen what happened to the people that underestimated him. But you still worried, it was in your nature to worry about him every time he left you. He knew this, and he'd do his best to reassure you in his own laid-back, almost cocky way.

"You worry too much, love. 'll be back before you knowit, yeah?" was what he'd always say, leaving you with a kiss to the forehead. You couldn't exactly remember what he said when he left days ago.

At that, your mind whirred back to life, the what if's and gruesome scenarios plaguing you for the umpteenth time this day alone. Before these thoughts could once again pull you into a depreciating hole of anxiety and stress, you shot out of bed, the cold air at once causing goosebumps along the expanse of your arms

You had to do something; move around, clean your room, watch TV, fold laundry, anything to get your mind off of things, even if only for a little while. You decided to make your way to the kitchen, make yourself something to eat, considering you've been too on edge to stomach anything truly filling.

The soothing voice of Billie Holiday filled the kitchen from the old record player, as you absent-mindedly stirred at the pot of pasta, the pan next to it simmering with sauce. Your reverie was broken by the sound of your bedroom window being slid open, followed by the thud of boots and a loud sigh.

Your heart sunk down to the soles of your feet, as you quietly yet excitedly made your way to your bedroom. There he stood, pulling at his mask, the rest of him soaked from the heavy downpour. He pulled the mask from his face, and once his eyes met yours, you knew something was wrong.

You made your way over to him, your socked feet trying to avoid the small puddle his boots had made as you took his cold hands in yours. He took a second to look down at where your hands connected, and released another tired sigh. "Bee?" you asked, trying to get him to look at you. He looked up at you with sullen eyes.

"Are you hungry?" you asked softly. You didn't ask him where he was, or what he was doing. He wasn't going to give you a real answer anyway. Not right now, at least. You didn't pry at that part of his life, although the various news reports and newspaper articles kept you more than informed most of the time. That was if they weren't being filtered through by the regime of the higher ups, them not very keen on telling the story how it really is. Much more interested in keeping their hands seemingly clean, and painting him as the bad guy; the wannabe hero trying to further worsen the state of the already near-apocalyptic nation.

He only nodded at you question, and you nodded along with him, already seeing that it was going to be one of those nights; where he much rather preferred you did all the talking, while he mulled over whatever event had occurred.

"Go take a shower, I'll finish up the food," you said softly, leaving him and returning to the kitchen. After a while he emerged from the bedroom, changed into dry clothes as he made his way to the kitchen table. He sat by the island quietly, watching you cook and listening to you as you talked about what you'd been up to. He didn't miss the small "I missed you, bee. You had me worried," thrown in.

It wasn't long till the both of you sat in your small living room after finishing your food. You could see he wasn't really hungry, but he ate just to give you some peace of mind. The sound of Billie Holiday was by now traded for Amy Winehouse, her beautifully gruff voice mixing perfectly with the sound of the rain that still pelted against the windows.

"—I knew she was only joking, but I was still scared as hell. You know how easily I get stressed out," you rambled on about whatever stupid story you could think of, anything to fill the deafening silence between the two of you. You, by now, were on your third story already, and you could feel how irritating you probably were. You were trying to get him to react, to snicker, laugh, make one of his sarcastic remarks, anything to tell you he was alright. You could see he wasn't alright, though.

He looked so tired, like something was eating at him, and it killed you to see him like this. It was obvious that whatever had happened was not just one of those nights, but something much more serious.

You followed his line of sight, where he had been staring at the coffee table with a blank stare, eyes trained on the cover of a newspaper you had bought.

"Do you want me to shut up?" you asked quietly, at your wits end. He finally looked at you, shaking his head slowly. "No," he added, voice gruff and deep from no use. You nodded, moving closer to him and placing your hand on his leg, giving it a light squeeze.

"I decided to buy one today, when I passed the convenience store 'round the corner from work," you started, "yeah...haven't read one in ages. There's actually an article about you in there, don't know how they managed to get that printed," you laughed weakly. "They called you 'Spiderpunk', I know how much you hate that," you added quietly, your resolve crumbling when the only thing you got out of him was a scoff. Usually he'd go on a tangent about how much he hated the term, but tonight he was so quiet, so sullen it actually unnerved you.

"I'm here if you want to talk, you know that, right?" you asked, and he gave you a nod. "Perhaps not right now, but when you're ready, I'll be here. I'll always be here. Even if we end up never talking about it, it's fine." For a moment his face faltered, looking as though he desperately wanted to talk to you about whatever happened, but the words got stuck in his throat, making him swallow dryly.

"D'you want me to leave? Give you some space?" you asked again, and when his eyes met yours, you could see every hidden emotion in them, every unsaid word he so desperately wanted to utter to you. The sight made your heart clench. How badly you wanted to wrap your arms around him, make him forget, but if he wanted distance, it was what you'd give him.

Once again it was just the sound of Amy Winehouse and the downpour filling the small room, along with Hobie's deep and steady breaths against your collarbones.

"No, stay a bit," he said, and you nodded once again. You moved impossibly closer to him, finally wrapping your arms around his neck and engulfing him in an embrace. He accepted your affection, responding by wrapping his long arms around your waist and practically pulling you into his lap, placing his head on your shoulder and letting out another exhausted sigh.

He can only hold her, miss Winehouse sang.

[sunshine-for-serotonin]

Ok trying not to be horny on main but please.... write frollo as a sub. somebody ought to put his bitch ass in his place

Good lord, there’s so many of you! Not that I’m complaining. As promised, NSFW headcannons for Judge Claude Frollo.

General behavior, positions, and anatomy

Claude likes to play the part of pious judge when out in the eyes of the public, but as soon as he gets you alone, he turns into a raging sub and not in even the slightest vanilla way.

In terms of behavior, Claude likes to act like he’s better than you, and that he would never give into his carnal desires, but the minute you even slightly brush against him when you two are by yourselves, he’s begging you to fuck him into his next life.

you would think that his ego fueled righteousness would make him into a brat, but you would actually be wrong. He likes to be praised and told that he’s a good boy (even if he is in his early sixties).

I kid you not, you have to be almost completely covered or else he gets a boner. You can’t even have your feet exposed without thinking about how desperately he wants you to step on him. He also admires your hands. He thinks they would look beautiful wrapped around his throat while you used him to get off.

On that note, as you may have gathered, Claude is a masochist. He loves you being in control and for you to “judge him for his sins”, followed up with you whipping him or striking him with a riding crop. We’ll elaborate on this later.

Is definitely the type to steal personal belongings of yours and either touch himself directly with them, or just hold them close as he pleasures himself. Will also leave them laying around in hopes that you’ll find them and punish him, calling out his “sins”.

He likes it when you use him and call him “your personal toy”. Something about being used for your pleasure and you disregarding his own sexual needs really gets him hard and needy.

despite him being a masochist, he still wants you to hold him close and want’s everything to be as intimate as possible. He loves you, and he’ll actually start to become depressed is he thinks you’re being distant.

he can probably be convinced to let you peg him if you play your cards right! He’ll probably be a little ornery about it until the pleasure sets in, though. They didn’t really have strap ons back then, but they did have dildos, so it’s either you use your hands to fuck him with the toy, or you invent your own harness.

In the beginning of your relationship, he tried desperately to keep himself quiet, embarrassed to be vocal. As time goes on and with your encouragement, however, he becomes very loud! Usually you hear a lot of whimpers and moans above anything else.

He would love to have you sit at his desk while he eats you out from underneath it, your foot pressing and grinding against his cock to tease him while he whines between moans, only for you to shut him up by pressing him harder between your thighs as someone walks in.

As for anatomy, he’s about 6 to 6 1/2 inches hard with an average girth. When he’s hard, Claude’s tip will turn a dark red, especially the more you deny him your touch.

His favorite position is to have you ride him, with your hands around his throat, of course. If you decide you want him on top, even if you’re still in charge, he always chooses missionary.

kinks, turn-offs, and aftercare

Oh boy-

masochist! He loves most everything, except for the absence of your touch and love, of course.

He loves it when you whip or hit his thighs with a riding crop! On his days where he really needs that extra kick, he’ll ask that you slap his cock with your hand or gently hit it with your riding crop.

Chasity belts (idk what the male equivalent is called) are a must in Claude’s book. He loves that he has to beg you for you to make him cum and he can’t give into his temptation should you not be around!

he also is a fan of cock rings! I did research, and yes, they were around in 1400s France, they were just made very differently.

He loves it when you overstimulate him until he’s having dry orgasms! The exercise of your power over him makes him stay hard, no matter how desperately he wishes he wasn’t as you bring him to his second dry climax.

Choking, he needs it. He lives for the slightly fuzzy feeling as your hands wrap around his throat and gently squeeze.

He likes bondage, too! He would love nothing more than to be your good fucktoy as he’s bound in scarlet ropes, keeping him from squirming as you use him to cum.

Make him read his bible as you slowly jerk him off. Every time he makes a mistake as pleasure floods his senses, stop moving your hand and listen to him cry, desperate for his release.

Foot fetish. No, I will not elaborate.

He really doesn’t have many turn offs. I think one of the only things that would be unpleasant for him would be degradation.

In the original novel, both of Frollos parents died of plague, which if we bring that narrative to this one’s version, it means he has mommy issues! Which means he may have a mommy kink! I could see it, tbh.

His ideal aftercare is just falling asleep in your arms as you kiss his forehead and pet his white hair.

[teaandransacking]

okay hear me out; the concept of five times… and the one time.. with lockwood and reader, where they are in a secret relationship, maybe reader could be kipps sister to give a reasons why they can’t tell anyone. and then just five times (or less idk) they were nearly caught and the one time they were?? i think that would be amazing, also i’m a sucker for forbidden romance trope so…

I love this. I hope I did it justice for you.

Words: 1400 ~ Content: angst, kissing, forbidden relationships

clandestine meetings and longing stares

This is a public place. We’re not doing anything wrong.

It’s true. The Archives is a public place. Where people go to study.

Except that’s not what you and Lockwood are doing.

Not that you’re defiling the books here or anything. You’re just stealing a moment together.

Towards the back of the first floor, in the stacks of the Ancient History section, where hardly anyone goes, Lockwood has you pressed up against rows and rows of leatherbound books.

He’s so close that you can see tiny flecks of gold in his dark brown eyes, make out a few stray hairs on his jaw that he missed shaving this morning.

You settle your hand over his heart, feel the rhythm of it beating.

You’d like to do this in public. Hold his hand in front of everyone; claim him as yours.

There’s just one problem: Quill Kipps is your big brother, and if he found out, there’d be hell to pay.

Lockwood’s nowhere near good enough for you, he always mutters.

And isn’t Anthony’s life hard enough already? An orphan by the age of 6, and responsible for Lucy and George (not that they need taking care of) at 17, he has worries galore without adding sneaking about with you to the list.

But he loves you. You feel it in his hand at the small of your back, hear it in the timbre of his buttery smooth voice when he says your name.

“Lockwood-” you begin, but he presses a gentle finger to your lips.

“Shh. Listen.”

And sure enough, you hear it. The swish of rapiers against clothes. Other agents are here.

You spring apart, you tucking yourself around a marble pillar just in time to see your brother approach.

You’re safe. 

This time.

—- ---

The second time, it’s George who saves your bacon. He’s known for weeks; he was the first one to figure it out, because of course he was.

The three of you are in a little cafe a stone’s throw from Covent Garden, drinking tea and sharing cake. Lockwood feeds you bites from his own fork and you reciprocate, while George playfully rolls his eyes about how sickeningly domestic it is.

You’re laughing and brushing a bright pink angel cake crumb from Lockwood’s mouth when George suddenly knocks his cup of tea right into your lap, and when your gaze cuts to him he mouths: Go.

A second later, you hear your brother’s voice at the cafe counter and you disappear into the bathroom.

—- ---

The third time is a very close call.

Lockwood’s shimmied up the tree outside your window. Your heart jumps into your throat every time he does this, especially because it’s usually after dark.

When he taps on your window, you let him in right away. He’s windswept and his skin is cold from the winter air. He smells of crisp fallen leaves and earl grey tea, and you kiss the confident smile off his face.

“Lockwood,” you say when he’s safely seated on your bed. “We have to stop this.”

He tugs you close, pulling you between his legs so your back is to his front. “Don’t ask that of me. Please.”

You turn and kiss him. “No. I mean, sneaking around. Quill will have to just deal. I mean, we face terrifying Visitors on the daily, but him finding out you and I are together is worse? I don’t buy it.”

“He hates me,” Lockwood murmurs, tangling his fingers with yours. He sighs. “And maybe he’s right. You can do better.”

You twist in his arms. “You shut up right now. You’re the best person I know.” He still looks so sombre, so you add, to make him laugh, “Except George. Of course.”

“Except George,” he agrees, but his seriousness is for show now, and the little glimmer of happiness on him makes your heart soar.

He leans down for another kiss, and his mouth is delectable, and you turn fully in his embrace to line your bodies up.

You’ll never get enough of him, you think as you slide your hands into his hair, pulling him closer still. Your tongues tangle, and when he breaks the kiss you lean back so he can drop kisses down your neck.

The sound of your name from outside the door makes you go rigid.

It’s your brother.

He knocks. “Are you in there?”

“Shit!” You breathe.

You practically push Lockwood off the bed. “Hide. Hide!”

He scrambles under the bed and you stuff your quilt in behind him just as Kipps opens the door to find you reclining on bed with your over-ear headphones on.

“Would you knock?” You exclaim.

He frowns. “Sorry. I - why is your window open? Aren’t you freezing?”

—---

The fourth time, everyone’s in the dark - literally.

You’re all working together, Lucy, Lockwood and George, and Kipps and his crew, including you. The basement of the creepy old church is silent around you. You only have the one torch, but Kipps wants to survey the space without light at first, to get the lay of the land.

By some divine providence, you’ve ended up crouching next to Lockwood, and you startle when he takes your hand, only to relax when you feel his familiar rapier-callused palm.

You don’t dare to speak, but you rest your shoulder against his. 

His fingers start to move on the flat of your palm, and you’re confused for a second until you realise that he’s tracing letters on to your skin, with full stops in between to demarcate the words.

I.

Love.

You.

It makes your heart swell as you imagine him saying the words, imagine his gaze holding yours, strong and sincere.

And then Bobby loses his nerve and switches his torch on, and all hell breaks loose, and the moment is lost.

—--

The fifth time, you don’t even try to hide it.

It’s the aftermath of a huge battle. Several Type Twos. Not enough agents.

When the fog from the salt and smoke bombs clear, Lockwood’s lying on the ground a few feet away, next to your brother. You crawl over, see your brother stirring, but Lockwood isn’t.

Desperate, your heart clenching, you kneel by his prone form, cupping his face with both hands.

“Lockwood. Anthony,” you beseech softly.

Kipps sits up, but you ignore him. You settle your fingers on Lockwood’s pulse point.

It’s sluggish, but it’s there.

Relief makes you weak as Lucy, George and Bobby crowd around.

“He’s just playing-” Kipps begins.

“Shut up,” you snap. 

He recoils but says nothing else.

“Lockwood, wake up!” You plead, patting his face.

Around you, Lucy and George look stricken and pale.

You wait for what seems like an eternity, but then Lockwood lets out a little cough.

“Help me sit him up,” you tell your brother, and to his credit, he responds right away, and between you you prop Lockwood up against Kipps’ chest.

“You’d better not die,” Kipps mutters. “My sister will never be happy again.”

Your gaze flits to your brother’s face.

He rolls his eyes. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. Neither you or Lockwood are as clever as you think you are.”

Lockwood’s eyes flutter open at that moment. “Good to hear that normal service has resumed, Kippy,” he groans.

You lean in and kiss his dear face. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been thrown around like a ragdoll.” But he smiles, and some of that Lockwood bravado lights up his eyes. “But getting to kiss you in front of everyone just might be all I need to recover.”

You laugh and kiss him again. Kipps makes a face, but doesn’t protest.

“You don’t mind?” You ask, still cuddling in close to Lockwood.

“Hard to mind when he saved my arse literally ten minutes ago.”

“Aww,” Lockwood coughs, still weak. “Kippy and I are having a moment.”

Kipps shoves Lockwood off him. “As long as you never, ever refer to us having a moment again, we’re good.”

The whole hang of you walk home together, you and Lucy supporting Lockwood between you, and, you think:

We’ll be all right.

[nerdylilpeebee]

It does mean something tho, the one who “provoked” is more responsible. Let’s be fr rn. They’re not on the same level. And by your own logic, if you can justify those actions of Israel… then aren’t you the same as the ones justifying Hamas?

I don’t agree with supporting Hamas, but Israel has been doing what Hamas does for way longer and way worse. Look at how their citizens view Palestine’s! Teenagers all smiling and purposely blocking trucks to prevent recourses being supplied to Gaza? All those video’s of soldiers and ex-soldiers laughing about r-wording (little) girls. Throwing a baby in a bakery’s oven and ordering the father to follow him? Just for “fun”. How would you justify that.

And I think it’s pointless to argue over Hamas as the only argument against Israel. Again, before you blow up, I don’t agree with Hamas. But everything they did, Israel has done to. Maybe even longer or worse. There is no weighing in what either party did in war, “whataboutism” is pointless when one has done worse. The “provoker” is in the wrong. They started it.

Also idk if they’re is something with your news outlets but they do target civilians? Small example, they 3 man dead in a hospital last week. Israel’s soldiers were disguised as women to get in?? Wtf. Tried to justify it by saying that they were members from Hamas, which turns out was a lie. One was a patient and the other two were guarding/looking over him. My country has no ties to either, it’s a neutral news outlet and I checked it myself so why would they lie about these things?

First, no they really aren't. Killing innocent civilians is not something that can be justifiably provoked. If you went out of your way to specifically target civilians, what whoever you're blaming your actions on did is IRRELEVANT. You targeted civilians. By definition innocents. By definition people who had nothing to do with whatever your excuse is. You cannot be provoked into killing innocent people.

And no, I'm justifying actions meant to defend innocent people from terrorists. People justifying Hamas are justifying killing innocent civilians. That is not the same thing.

And no, they really fucking haven't. XD I have yet to see even a single instance of them doing the same brutality that Hamas commits that wasn't lies spread as propaganda. And my oh my, some Israeli's view Palestinians poorly. Couldn't be because their government has been launching missiles at them for decades and Palestinians have literally posted videos of them cheering on the deaths of Israeli's or anything. No certainly not. They just must be racial supremacists or whatever justifies you condemning them viewing people who cheer on their deaths poorly.

And again, show me the proof of these teenagers blocking trucks from entering Gaza. Then explain how these Israeli teenagers got to Egypt, where the trucks are entering Gaza from. oh, and be sure to then explain how a handful of teenagers makes Israeli's them on the same level as people who cheer on terrorists butchering innocent people.

Feel free to provide proof of these soldiers joking about raping little girls, and again, go on to explain why that means anything. Same with them throwing a baby in an oven (a claim I've seen made about Hamas, not the IDF. Something tells me you're consuming too much terrorist propaganda).

No, they really fucking haven't. What Hamas has done, Israel did not fucking do too. And frankly, the fact that you think if they did it makes Hamas any less of the bad guy here for starting a war by killing over 1400 innocent people, kidnapping over 200 more and then using the population of a country as human shields when the country they attacked retaliates to the CONSTANT AGGRESSION being capitalized with the worst terror attack since 9/11. Atrocities do not justify attrocities. And if you answer atrocity by butchering innocent people, you are NOT fighting atrocity. You are just looking for a reason to be a killer.

And no, actually, everything I've seen about the "killing 3 men in a hospital" thing happened in the West Bank, not Gaza, and there has so far been no proof these were real Israeli soldiers acting under orders. They could easily have been extremists. As for why they'd lie, are you fucking kidding me? XD non-palestinian sources have been spreading lies about this conflict from the jump, there is every reason to assume they're fucking lying. Plenty of countries, like South Africa, are trying to use this conflict to distract from bad shit in their own countries, why wouldn't even more try to do the same?

And besides, even if they are Israeli soldiers, infiltrating a hospital to kill 3 suspected terrorists is not the same thing as mass-butchering innocent people. These are not comparable actions! Yeah, they're both wrong, but one is INFINITELY worse than the other!

It's not whataboutism. One side is a terrorist organization killing innocent people en-mass. People calling out blatant lies, misinformation and propaganda spread by pro-palestine idiots with the intention to make Israel seem Evil and thus ok to genocide while ignoring Hamas' actions is not whataboutism. Wanting you to acknowledge that Hamas is not the fucking good guys is not whataboutism. You can easily criticize Israel without spreading lies or defending terrorists.

[strayfriend]

Following 1400 blogs turned out to be a mistake

Did any of y'all see a love poem yesterday

Had he/him pronouns in it, contained something along the lines of

I could only see his love as a gift before punishment

And like

Love is how we bridge the gap between who we are and who we could be ??

Or some shit like that idk man

Help

It was an image so googling didn't turn anything up

(black text on white with maybe some red??)

EDIT I FOUND IT

FOUND IT TY EVERYONE

I only saw a snippet but here's the full poem.

Death Wish by Josh Alex Baker

[maximwtf]

“Hidden thoughts.”

                                              Myc x reader

words:1400

google docs pages: 4

warnings: mention of drugs, stress, mentions of trauma idk Myc being horrible at trying to help :”D

opening: Late night at work, and you’re alone with Myc. He ends up reading your mind and finds a lot of things he never knew about. 

Not Proof Read!!

AN// I have so many unfinished fanfics, like from the office- but I wanted to get this out and I'm thinking of writing something for Rand as well. Oh and hi, I’m back from the dead :”D

                                  “Hidden thoughts.”

You sat on your chair in your office, with your laptop in front of you. There was quite a lot of unfinished work you had totally forgotten about, and the more you thought about it the more you kept telling yourself you had to get it done as soon as possible. So now you were still in your office, after hours working on some unfinished documents that should have been done most likely months ago. You had no idea how your colleagues managed to act so calm, when they seemed like they were doing even less work than you. Did they not care that someone would find out how much they slack off?

Myc had also decided to join you, because he had seen you enter your office earlier. So not only were you stuck with your over the deadline work, but also with a talking magic mushroom…thing? But to your surprise he wasn’t as annoying as you had prepared for him to be. Somehow he was acting a little different than he acted when the whole group was together. He seemed kinder in a weird and in all honesty creepy way. But you didn’t mind. Myc had maybe the easiest job from the group, so your judgemental brain didn’t blame him for slacking off so much and acting like he didn’t care. 

You typed away on your laptop, trying to get all the work done so you could leave. You knew if you left now and told yourself you’d finish that at home it would never happen. You would know, because you had tested that multiple times in the past. That might have actually been the reason why all the work you were doing now was so late. 

“You gonna be here all night? It’s quite late.” Myc said, his orb’s pink light bringing some color into the otherwise dark room. His comment brought you back from your thoughts. “What..? No! No, of course not. If I had a choice I would have left early…Jesus…” You mumbled a reply before you went back to speeding through your work. Myc’s orb lit up again. “Just leave it undone and come watch my machine. It got some upgrades.” He said, putting one of his tendrils on your shoulder to peak at what you were doing. You cringed at his comment, showing his tendril off your shoulder. “No thank you, I’d rather work my ass off with these documents than watch..that..” You replied, shaking your head after to get the image of him in the machine off your mind.  “You seem so tense. Surely you want to get your work done well if you’re staying here so late?” Myc spoke again, now looking at you. You sighed, turking to look at him finally. “Yes, and as of right now the only thing not allowing me to finish these is you. No offense.” You mumbled the last part. “Let me ease your mind. No way you can work efficiently when you’re so tense?” The mushroom pleaded, hoping you’d give in. “No, you’re not reading my mind.” You huffed, turning back to your laptop to continue working. “Fuck you, I just want to help for once.” Myc replied to you, pulling your chair further away from the table with one of his tendrils. “Stop! I need to get these done or I wont get peace in my mind!” You exclaimed, trying to stop him by pressing your feet against the floor. “See, even your subconscious is screaming for help. Now, just chill out man.” Myc hummed, totally ignoring the way you were protesting. He pressed two of his tendrils on your head. The tips of them turned pink, as he began to go through your thoughts.

You tried to get away but whatever the fuck he was doing was working. You leaned back on the chair with half lidded eyes, staring at your laptop’s screen and the light it is illuminating into the dark room. You had no idea what Myc was doing, but it felt like hardcore drugs. 

You sat there for a good moment, before your mind began to wonder on its own again. Could he hear your thoughts even now or was he looking at something else. Could he see your bad memories as well? Like all the traumatizing stuff from the past? If he could, you just had to not think about it, right? No…No this was just making you think about it all again…

You bit your teeth together, and fully opened your eyes. You leaned forward to get Myc’s tendrils off of your head. While staring at the floor, you didn’t hear anything from your mushroom buddy. You covered your eyes with your hands, and leaned against your knees. No way in hell he just saw all of that. 

“What in the hell did you just bring up.” Myc’s voice said from behind your chair. The floor illuminated the colors of his cap as they changed from pink to purple. “Are you like mentally doing okay?” He kept talking and walked in front of you with two of his tendrils on his orb. “Wow, thank you.” You mumbled, still not breaking your staring contest with the floor of your office. Myc was quiet for once for a moment before he began talking again. “You know, I’m sorry I didn't mean to go that far. Your mind is a mess by the way.” The mushroom said as he let go of his orb. Because you didn’t reply he poked you with one of his tendrils. “You know I'm not good at this.” He then said, coming a little closer. You looked up at him with the front of your hair now messed up and the whites of your eyes now a little red from trying not to cry. “Yeah, fuck you.” You sniffed, and wiped your eyes with your sleeve. “Deserved, I guess. But you’re still stressed.” He replied, while one of his tendrils closed your laptop. “Mhm, because that helps.” Your gaze turned to him. A couple tears were trying to escape your eyes, but you were fighting for your life to not let that happen. 

You stared at the mushroom in front of you for a moment before you spoke again. “Can you…do the mind reading again. You already know everything so…” You murmured, not daring to look at him. You knew if he could grin at you he would at the moment. “Now you’re getting it.” He replied and scooted close enough that he could place two of his tendrils at the sides of your head. You leaned to the back of your chair again. This time you closed your eyes. It didn’t take long for your mind to start to wonder again. Though this time it felt like something was blocking the thoughts of the work you were stressing over. Could he only read the memories you were thinking about? If so you should be fine if you just relaxed. “I don’t know…can I read memories as well?” Myc’s a little lower voice commented smugly. You or your thoughts didn’t reply, but your breathing had evened out. Myc looked at you, before letting his tendrils fall off. The pink color on them faded away. “Well you’re coming with me…” Myc hummed to himself before lifting you up with a couple of his tendrils.

“You know, I’m sorry for..what I did.” He mumbled to himself, knowing that you most likely couldn’t hear him. “And I’m already sorry for when you wake up tomorrow, because we’re going to my place.” The mushroom added, while making his way to the exit. He was just happy you weren’t overworking yourself anymore.

//I feel like this didn’t turn out too good but it’s almost 6am and i’m kinda tired so we’ll go with this :”D!!

[sl33py-g4m3r]

Should I make an account specifically for larping someone from The Eastern Kingdom of Mikado? Or just continue to do it off and on on this one?

I certainly am aware that I need to learn the speech patterns and words of someone from the 1400s; as I do believe that the era they’re currently in, in Mikado at least is that time in history supposedly.

Cause I do believe normal blog behaviour and then a bad (in my view at least… it could be a demon or something messing with me. Did The White screw with the common people as well or was it just the Protagonist? The call to oblivion….. seems like The Call of The Void manifest)

I wanna larp but also don’t want it to be immersion breaking when I resume normal blog posting…

Or perhaps someone else would be supposedly posting without my knowledge? And I just find it later?

Idk how to larp, wanna make another account or side blog to larp and yet making a backstory for the ‘odd out of place’ posts on my blog, lol

Nor do I know how to tag the larping aside that but the other supposed person wouldn’t even know what that acronym was to mean in the first place. Aside from inferring it as children playing make believe perhaps…

Like I just wanna goof off online; not sure if I should continue on this blog or not, want to create a backstory just in case I do continue on this blog, and now anxiety tells me I’m trying to have fun incorrectly and bugging people following me.

I still hate anxiety so much.

I just wanna have fun ~~~

Speaking of, random question. How would anxiety be seen at all in The Eastern Kingdom? Of course with what’a happening there’s no need for anxiety, it just happens and is a hindrance to any form of action at all…

Faith in (censored) to aid and quell anxiety? Faith in other people? How would the condition be met there? I’ve got it and worried I’d just be a nervous wreck all the time~~~

More random long posts cause I want to larp and worry I’m doing it wrong, and also curious how mental health issues would be dealt with in The Eastern Kingdom of Mikado, simply because it’s my anxiety that’s ruining an attempt at a larp account

I no longer know what to make of my posts at present…. Wrought with anxiety of doing a fun thing incorrectly……

Might I be like Navvarre and have a nervous breakdown? Also being turned into a sort of ghost? Or was he a special case? Of course I’d just have bad anxiety and not get my fellows jumped and potentially killed…

And I’d be a member of the poor class probably as I am irl, but that’s the fun with imagining things and larping, real life stuff doesn’t need to apply~~

Hath thine inadvertently created a being called ‘OC’? I have not meaning to what the letters are referring nor how they were used in that combination….

I pray that this ‘OC’ is not a demon….. Creating a being out of thin air…… ……….? I know not what to make of it but am hopeful that it is not in fact a demon……. Shall I strike it down if it claims otherwise and wishes not to be of aid.

Alas I know not where I was going with this….. such is these long rambles I do tend to go on…… and for that I deeply apologize to any being reading this message….. I do hope ye are more well than I…..

God be with ye~~~~

[the-golden-ghost]

ooh what do you know about uhh goosebumps!

Okay this one's funny cause I was a huge Goosebumps Kid so I'll try to just summarize every one I can remember from childhood LET'S GO:

Welcome to Dead House: Girl moves to town. Town's haunted. Havoc ensues. I think this was the first one ever published.

Phantom of the Auditorium: R. L. Stine deciding "what do kids love? Phantom of the Opera references?" and making a whole book dedicated to the concept. +1 for really good twist at the end

Ghost Beach: Beach with ghosts on it. I remember this one had a reaper thing on the cover but the actual ghosts were just kids who died of plague in like, 1800. I think it was also in New England! :)

Ghost Camp: Camp's haunted

Shocker on Shock Street: Kids go on a theme park tour but the theme park monsters are REAL and the kids are ROBOTS and idk man this one was wild. I liked it though

The Girl Who Cried Monster: Librarian's a monster and he eats bugs or something? Or turtles? I dunno man

Night of the Living Dummy 2: Okay this one's funny cause there was an earlier book called Night of the Living Dummy. And it's almost completely forgotten. Slappy, the evil dummy who became the FACE of the series and the most notable standout character in the entire run? He only appears in the sequel. I don't even know what the original dummy was called. They also filmed this one for the TV series but ONLY this one, not the original. So the TV episode is called Night of the Living Dummy 2 and there is no Night of the Living Dummy 1 in the TV series at all. Anyway it's about a ventriloquist dummy who tries to enslave his owner

Go Eat Worms!: I don't really remember what this is about at all I just found the title really funny. I think it's about a kid who's cursed and worms show up everywhere.

Lawn Gnomes Attack Manhattan: No but I don't remember the actual title of this one. I just remember it was about evil lawn gnomes and even as a kid I thought it was stupid but they can't all be bangers

Night in Tower Terror? Terror Tower?: I think I only saw the TV episode of this and it freaked me out. However it's also based on the Actual Real Life Murder of two children (the nephews of Richard III, Edward V and Richard of York) which makes it possibly the bleakest inspiration for a Goosebumps book albeit Stine really fictionalized it and also it happened in the 1400s

Calling All Creeps: Some kid puts a prank ad for creeps in his local newspaper and gets creeps to show up. I think they were like lizard aliens idk

The Beast From the East: What if the jungle was real and tried to KILL YOU

Chicken Chicken: Girl gets cursed to turn into a chicken. Slightly scarier than it sounds

How to Kill a Monster: Terrible grandparents summon a Swamp Thing and try to feed their grandkids to it

That Weird Vampire Time-Travel One: Kid finds his grandpa's vampire corpse in the basement and Vampire Grandpa wakes up and tries to eat him. And then time travels back to the 1800s for some reason cause I guess vampires are only scary in the 1800s?

Ghost School: A lot of these are just called "Ghost *regular place*" but this one was particularly fucked up cause the ghosts were actually kids who got trapped in a living photograph by an evil photographer. Which sounds dumb but they were permanently ensnared in this black and white void where time never passed for like... decades and decades as the outside world slowly moved on and forgot about them. And they never got rescued or anything. They were literally just left to their fate. One of the more messed up endings in the series

The Haunted Mask: OH MAN how did I miss this one. This was probably the Gold Standard for the TV show episodes. Freaked me out SO bad as a kid. It's about a girl who wears a mask that permanently affixes to her face and it's WILD

The Cuckoo Clock of Doom: Kid gets trapped in a Time Vortex and ends up erasing his bratty sister from the face of history etc.

The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight: Evil scarecrows. That's pretty much it but this one and Harold from Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark are probably the reason for my lifelong Scarecrow Phobia so

The One Where The Kids Turn Into Dogs And Never Get Changed Back: !!! honestly the ending made me so mad. I forget the name of it though

One Day At Horrorland: A classic! It's about an evil theme park :) Don't go down the Doom Slide!

Stay Out of The Basement: Kids' dad turns into an evil mad scientist but it turns out he's actually an evil plant clone of their dad who's just posing as their dad. Wild

That One Where The Camera Kills You: I don't remember the title but the camera predicts the future. However it causes whatever Future Event it depicts to also be like. You Will Be Maimed And Slaughtered Horribly

Jack O Lanterns... Attack... Manhattan?: I don't remember the title of this one either. It was basically What If You Got Kidnapped By Pumpkin Monsters and they Made You Celebrate Halloween For All Eternity. Would that be fucked up or what

Uhhh Bnuy: Evil Stage Magician Turns A Kid Into A Rabbit or something I forgor. I think there was a sorcerer named Greg in there somewhere? Like I remember that being a joke

Piano Lessons Can Be Murder: Kid goes to piano lessons and gets murdered. I mean not really but almost lmao. Also the freaky handless ghost woman who scared the SHIT out of me when I was 12

Help My Neighbor's A Ghost: I don't remember the name of this one either but the main character thinks the new kid who just moved in is a ghost. Turns out she (the main character) died in a fire 20 years ago and she's the actual ghost and her best friend never writes to her because she died ages ago and stuff. It's actually kind of sad; I don't recall the title but it stuck with me

How I Learned to Fly: About a kid who learns to fly which ISN'T SCARY OR A HORROR CONCEPT

The Abominable Snowman of Pasadena: Bigfoot but he lives in California now. Yeah a scientist found him and brought him back. Yeah he's got Scary Bigfoot Ice Powers too and keeps freezing people solid

Beware the Snowman: I think this was actually the first one I ever read? This one's about a cursed town under the domain of an evil snowman (not like Bigfoot I mean like an actual irl snowman. Like Frosty) but the snowman's actually an evil magician who was turned into a snowman by his rival or something. This one's also kind of wild but it's decently good!

[iridescent-blue-scales]

i feel bad for thinking this but like,, my mom and brother do chipotle movie fridays and they came home not that long ago with their bowl and burrito and chips. i looked up how many calories are in an average bowl,, and they ate more than me in one meal than i did in the entire day (knowing them it's certainly on the higher end of the average, and they had chips with guac). i hate that i feel like that but fuck dude. when my mom came home she said she was starving and i know she had a full breakfast too.

ANYWAY i was gonna have a sandwich for dinner but my bread (which expires today) had some mold so i pivoted.

also i've decided it's day one this diet was just something called get worse so day one: 1400 cals. not following any of the rules (except for the fasting one if you know the diet). i may have to pause it at some point depending on if the fam does something (unlikely) but i'll let you know if that happens

so i had my fried rice for breakfast (turns out i forgot to add oil in the recipe on lose it so that's +120 calories to yesterday btw 🙃 fixed from now on. also wanna get used to smaller portion sizes so i weighed it today to see how much the full dish is so i can start halving it or more starting tomorrow) with a diet coke, half a bag of shirataki noodles (seriously it's 5 cals for half the bag and it's pretty good) with an egg and green onion (picked off half the green onion at some point tho it was a little too earthy still after a wash), and to replace my sandwich i basically had everything (except for ketchup) just in a taco shell?? it wasn't great but was better than i expected and it nearly halved the cals so 10/10 if you still want sandwiches i suggest taco shells (honey ham, gouda, 1tbsp mayo, bit of lettuce).

app is lose it bc i'm doing the below instead of the usual string lolol

just combining it to here so hopefully i don't clog your feed with a million posts úwù

day one: stats + some of my identity owo

i'm mo; 21; 5'8"; cw 267lbs; sw 280; ugw 130 but may go lower; goal weights are mainly bmi changes or like certain milestones; i use any pronouns but i'm afab and consider myself genderqueer; i'm lesbiab

yes i changed the name i go by on here to a nickname of my actual name. i chose it only a few months ago and it sparks so much joy that it's dulled out the names i liked when i was super into a piece of media (last one was spider-man hence why i went by peter lmfao).

uhhh if you guys wanna see (clothed) pics of me lmk ig. i don't support using fat people as a "do you wanna look like this" kinda thing but hey it might be a nice reminder to some of you who are thinner/started off thinner that we're here and we have this problem too. idk. sometimes i just feel weird when i see peoples sw literally be one of my gws or my actual ugw. even if it's not true it feels like i'm the only fatty here when i doomscroll sometimes

god my posts are so long. good on you if you actually read this haha

[ndiariess]

... im back!! LMAOOO IK IK IK!!! listen listen listen! y'all don't understand how insane my life has been these past couple months! like i've been on this acc but i haven't had the time to like write on here anymore! so forgive meee! ANYWAYS the way.. i've been working.. EVERYDAY for 2 months is INSANE. i'm a camp counselor and i feel like i’ll never be the same again! like i’ve matured so MUCH and i’ve learned so much like omg, but like these kids though are no joke there’s been times where i’ve wanted to bang my head, cry, and run away😭😭😭 but i’m so so so thankful for my co workers they are just the best and so funny and chill! we went to dinner and jumped in the pool and just urgh much love! i’m ngl i have not been saving i’m down to my last $25 but listen

i’m just a girl.

i’ve been going to the gym and watching my calories too like who am i! y’all i am not playing when i tell you my body is TEA☕️ low waisted, high waisted, long sleeve, crop top, dress, skirt, shorts ANYTHING!! i look gawd innnn like urgh imma go to the gym today too i just yessssss😩

as for boys and shit yk… i’ve had a couple situation - ships i’m not gonna lie to yall! they’ve been cool but like i’m not feeling relationships rn like urgh, taking care of myself is already hard work and now i gotta look after a nigga?!!! DO I LOOK LIKE A MOTHA!!! no. lmaoo but i’d be lying if i said one of the main reasons i’m looking forward to going back to school is for the guys😭 idk like guys coming up to you in the hall and asking for your insta is such an ego booster!

speaking of insta i have not been taking pictures and it’s cuz i’m suffering from a bad case of camp counselor hair… like urgh my hair not cute rn bc these kids love touching it and ONE TIME THEY CHASED ME WITH SHAVING CREAM AND DRENCHED ME IN IT!! plus i have to get in the pool all the time so it’s like there’s no point in having a middle part buss down if it’s just gonna get ruinedddddddd!!!

buttttt i bought me a wig for back to school so i look good and hawt so don’t even worry y’all! i also started shopping on depop bc yk i kinda care for the environment like lowkey… i don’t wanna get into rn BUT i got some nike dunks in grey for super cheap and they were real and new so i was like lemme get some black ones too… long story short i got scammed but it’s fine cuz money comes to me abundantly right? right.

i also took my SATs this past june i got a 1050 which isn’t the best but it’s better than that 950 i had gotten earlier this year, ITS CUZ I FELL ASLEEP LMAOOO!! no but i’m gonna take it again in october and hopefully hopefully get a 1400 that’s my goal cuz baby i need scholarships!!

i watched the barbie movie 2 days ago and it made me realize that this summer i haven’t been appreciating my mom as much as i should, i feel like working summer camp as just made me a little more irritable when i get home and shit. i just started to feel bad. at the end of the day my mom is just a grown teenage girl🎀 i did her lashes yesterday and they turned out cutee i’m also installing her hair, mothers deserve to be pampered too!

i went hover boarding yesterday to clear my mind and i almost fell but is it just me or do i not get embarrassed anymore like i’m definitely starting to think that being embarrassed is a choice🤔

anyways my goals for this school year is to be hot, make $$, and get into my college of choice!!

[icecreamkink]

ok so . ok. ok . SO

this was a very good episode but i am likeeeeeeee.

(put a cut cause it ended up being a Rant lol)

what is the Point of the Destinies and Prophecies in the show even? i have been spoiled for the ending years ago so, seeing the dragon and gaius and even merlin seriously considering letting mordred die and arthur of all people finding a way to help him was such a powerful story! like the scene of him breaking him out and delivering him to the druids! i kinda got chills!

but bc I Know How It Ends i feel very. Hm:/ cause see, mordreds whole schtick post 'mordred is evil now' like post 1400s (in arthurian myth) was that he was arthurs fateful punishment. arthur is told one of his bastard sons will kill him and he decided to kill every infant befora that can happen. mordred barely escapes and resolves to kill arthur because of his violence (and yknow there tons of stories like that in ancient myths, some variations have arthur just abandoning him, but thats the gist)

but here....... arthur does everything right? he goes above and beyond, setting out to save mordred himself. merlin, who hears the prophecy, does the opposite of what "og" myth king arthur does and resolves to have compassion and mercy instead of giving in to violence and fear. so it seemed that the show was breaking apart from the 'you cant escape your fate' line of myth, but as it turns out they wont, and i guess its snagging on my brain because:

1- it doesnt work so well here because arthur didnt hear the prophecy. it kind of defeats the purpose of a self fulfilling prophecy if he never knows about the prophecy in the first place

2- there isnt that much of a grayness here. mordred is not arthurs son, is a magical kid from a peaceful people and would suffer a terrible fate against arthurs wishes anyway. they did the right thing in a pretty black and white situation

3- because the show, lbr, doesnt have medieval or ancient sensibilites, and they have this magical oppression core that mordred was involved in, and arthur is supposed according to this show help end this opression, the idea that destiny will punish him for helping a magical kid at great risk to himself, for morgana no less feels really.............. pointlessly mean? emphasis on the pointless.

like truly. what is the fateful punishment here. arthur will die by mordreds hands after helping him despite the fact hes the magichate town prince, because merlin didnt listen to the prophecy but LIKE. WHAT IS THE TAKEAWAY HERE??

kill innocent children over fate? (which is, again THE OPPOSITE of what mordreds most famous myth was getting at) idk, always listen to prejudice?? bc not helping mordred would be allowing uther to kill one more innocent magical being, and Fate wanted the king who was promised to end magical oppression to do that because.............................................................. ?? ?? ?????

Now. granted, i might know merlin's ending but i dont know the middle, so theres probably something there that arthur will do and will tie into his fate, but. because this is so specifically framed as 'if you let the boy live, you'll never fullfil your destiny' here, it doesnt matter yknow? its still narrative punishment for them making all the right choices. i dont get it

[maneoxaiden]

ᴋᴀʟᴏᴘꜱɪᴀ | 750 challenge

ᴋᴀʟᴏᴘꜱɪᴀ — the delusion of things being more beautiful than they are

Marcus Aiden Armitage has had his heart broken so many times he's stopped keeping track. 

The curse of a hopeless romantic, he supposes. A many who wholeheartedly believes in fate, soulmates, twin-flames and whatnot is simply bound to face the pain of a broken heart once or twice in his lifetime, and that's for your average human lifespan. Alas, Aiden has had his heart broken by a few fair women and he's broken many a heart in return.

In fairness, it'd been quite some time since Aiden's felt the ache in his chest. Most, if not all of his lovers had held his affections some three-or-four-hundred years ago. If the man thought about it for long enough, he imagines he could recall what those endings felt like. He could allow himself to remember the finality of it all, the sense of loss—

So why did that familiar burning, aching, tearing in his heart feel nothing like that now?

"I ran into Amelie," That shouldn't have been possible. "She was with another man," That shouldn't have been possible. "I'm sorry, Aiden."

He wanted to refute the words spilling from Illya's lips- to lash out in anger, in a blind rage for such lies being told right to his face. He wanted to make Illya regret accusing his wife of such things, apologize for smearing dirt upon her character. Instead, Aiden finds himself... eerily hollow. Empty. So much so one could hear his fragile heart crumble piece by glass piece.

For there are a few sacred truths he knows for absolute certainty- the most important being that Illya would never lie to him.

Aiden knew Illya. Ever since he was a child, he's known Illya, and even as a child, Illya had never once lied to him. Even if the truth was the last thing he wanted to hear in that moment, Illya always told him the truth. While Amellie being outside the Kim family manor should have been impossible, clearly it wasn't. The younger man knew his pseudo-father-figure would never make a statement like that were he not sure of what he saw. If he hadn't confirmed it himself.

Amelie hadn't waited for him.

What was more than that was that she'd moved on entirely, walking along the streets with a new man on her arm. Aiden felt this discordant mesh of confusion, anger, sadness, heartbreak— and what hurt the most was that in the center of it all, no matter how small it may have been in comparison to every other emotion swirling in his chest, was understanding.

After all, she didn't truly remember him- he had Luca make sure of that. She would be safer hidden away, safer if she forgot all about him and the love they'd shared for two-hundred years. She wouldn't be a target, could never be used against him if she didn't remember him, if she was no where near Seoul. That was the whole point of leaving her under the care of Luca's family. A small, sharp, humorless exhale forced through the nose. She was definitely safer now.

The silence in the room felt like a dense pressure, like surface tension of a glass of water threatening to spill over. Illya said nothing, waiting for Aiden to break it. The soft ticking of the clock added to the glass, drip by drip. Aiden wasn't sure how long had passed before he took a deep breath. Amber eyes met Illya's with a vulnerability that only his father-figure had ever seen, the only emotion expressed on his otherwise stoic face.

"Was she happy?" a pause.

"Yes." silence.

The glass spills over.

"Very well, then."

                                                                         .oOo.

It's 4am, months from the day Illya had given Aiden the news, ink long since dry on the divorce papers. He found himself in his study, cigar in hand burning idly as he sat in contemplation. Staring down at the silver band that hadn't sat on his finger in fifty years he wondered, where did it go wrong? Scratch that— he knew where it went wrong. He was a big enough man to see his mistakes and admit to them. The day he stripped Amelie of her memories, her life here with him in Seoul, of the choice to remain by his side despite the dangers was where it all went wrong. Truthfully, the day he left Amelie in the supposed care of Luca's family was the day he left her. He had been the one to end their relationship as they knew it. That was on him.

Even so, he would visit her when it was safe to, and never did he ever stop loving her. Slowly, though, the visits slowed. When he would once visit her with the changing of the seasons, over time it became simply on the equinoxes. As Veritas began to gain momentum, Aiden couldn't be away for so long. His visits slowed to once a year, and as the danger of simply being who he is increased, he saw her even less. Somewhere along the lines he fell into the pattern of visiting for a weekend every five or ten years, but he thought about her every day. He loved her every second of every minute of every moment— the thought of reaching Veritas' goal, to make a world safe enough to bring her home, spurred his every action.

He loved her, and he never stopped loving her, so why didn't his heart break?

Where was the burning, searing pain, the heaviness of his heart, the overwhelming grief? The regrets of not doing better, not being better- where were the stinging tears of  inconsolable sadness for losing the love of his life?

Where did his heart go wrong?

Why did he feel so hollow?

Why did he feel nothing?

Why did he feel relieved?

He took a pull from his cigar, the puffs of smoke swirling around his head much like his thoughts- wispy, intangible, but heavy. Burnt ash lingered on the cigar, grey and dull. Aiden stared at it for a moment too long before flicking it into the ashtray.

Because that was it, wasn't it?

His heart had broken, he had burned- years ago he had. Decades, even. All that remained was the ashes of what once was. Fractures had spiraled in his heart the day he left Amelie with Luca's aunt, and only now were the pieces starting to fall apart. Only now were the ashes piling into the tray. Because now there was no illusion holding his hopeless fantasies together. There were no more dreams of bringing her home, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close, kissing her pillow soft lips and smelling the sweet perfume he'd once sworn to know by heart (and now couldn't remember if he tried).

And when he really thinks about it, he hadn't had a dream like that in years.

He had been holding on to a dream from half a century ago. To memories of a love that he cherished dearly, but could never return to. He wasn't the man he once was when he had married Amelie, and in truth, he was never truly the man who married Amelie either. He'd kept so much of his nature, his life, his sins hidden from her. So much of who he was, she'd never known. Even if she had waited, she never would have been able to accept him for the man he was today, because the man he was today couldn't hide his nature even if he tried.

What it all boiled down to, in simple terms, was that Aiden was bloody delusional.

The fact that it took over fifty years and a rather harsh wake up call to realize the truth of the matter was testament enough to that. His marriage with Amelie had ended some forty-odd years ago, if he were being generous. Fifty were he being honest, but seldom was Aiden an honest man with himself. He left her in a foreign country with no memories of their 200 years together, had completely had him wiped from her memory, only to torture himself by visiting her. His heart had broken years ago, every time he had to reintroduce himself to her, over and over again. Truly, he should have realized it was over when that stopped hurting.

Warm candle-light glinted off the silver band sitting on the wooden desk before him, and Aiden couldn't tell if it mocked his stupidity or not. Snuffing the cigar, he sighed before gently picking up the ring, as though it too might shatter any minute after being broken for so many years. Turning it over in his hand, he could only whisper to the empty room.

"So what now?"

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 311: Hand Gun

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “thinkin’ about dropping in some woke analogies of the very real and very presently relevant issue of racial profiling idk what do you guys think” and then shrugged and did it without waiting for an answer, and ngl it was a bit sudden, but I’m here for it. All Might was all “DEKU YOU NEED TO EAT” and Deku was all “OKAY” and took his hero bento and went to go stand dramatically on a tower in the rain whilst having some highly anticipated Vestige flashbacks. OFA II was all, “sup, I guess I’m not Kacchan... OR AM I,” and ngl I think he is?? Alternate universes anybody?? Hello??? But anyway, so OFA the First a.k.a. Yoichi was all “remember that time you guys rescued me from my evil brother and Two took my hand and we Had A Moment?”, and Two and Three were all “ahh yeah good times”, and it was very nice and very, very gay. The chapter ended with it being very unclear if Two and Three have actually lent their power to Deku yet or not lmao. Y’all need to get your shit together dudes.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “what if I gave a random bad guy a fucking tommy gun that shoots nails” and jesus christ calm down son. The Hawksquad, a.k.a. SQUAWK as per @hotchocolatier​, are all “time to drive aimlessly around town acting like Deku has a restraining order on us because that’s literally the best plan to combat the League we could come up with,” and I have no further comment. Hawks is all “idk about you guys but I want to know more about AFO and Tomura’s whole deal” and I can’t remember the last time I identified so strongly with one of these characters. All Might is all, “[EXPLODES???]”, and the chapter ends with that mysterious hot girl from the Tartarus breakout being all “HELLO I CAN TURN INTO A GUN AND I LITERALLY DON’T GIVE A FUCK” and (1) WOW, and (2) IT’S TRUE, SHE CAN, AND SHE REALLY DOESN’T. GODDAMN.

(ETA: so this wholly escaped my notice on the first go, and also has nothing to do with the chapter itself, but I only just realized that this chapter was scanlated by a new group, TCB Scans. they actually did a very good job, and I’m curious if they’ve found a new RAW provider, because the quality this week is actually crazy good in comparison to what we’ve been dealing with for the past few months. I’m gonna have to get caught up on what exactly happened here lol.)

so what will it be this week? more Vestige antics? more of Sad Nomad Deku standing on buildings and pretending like he’s some cool aloof antihero, as if he could fool us when we all know his hero backpack is secretly stuffed full with his nerd diaries and the remnants of all the hero bentos that All Might keeps giving him?? or, just putting it out there, just a crazy thought, but you don’t suppose we might actually cut back to U.A.? mmm. side-eyes emoji

maaaaaan I’m starting to get tired of this trend of beginning chapters by dropping in on random power-tripping civilians and/or Shindou lol. just once can we get a chapter that opens with someone I actually give a fuck about

oh at least Endeavor is here

A WHAT SUPPORT ITEM!??! HOLY SHIT DDLKJSLFKJL

lol somehow that’s more terrifying than bullets for me?? like I’m fully aware that bullets will fuck you up way worse and that in real life nail guns probably don’t work like this AT ALL and only have a range of like... hold up let me just google... up to 100 to 150 m/s and distances of up to 500m wait WHAT

okay wait. hold up. like I was expecting google to tell me nail guns only shoot a few feet at most, and instead the first search result is some CDC blog article that’s “dispelling” the “””myth””” -- please note my repeated sarcastic quotation marks -- that nail guns can fire 1400 feet per second, by explaining that actually they can fire anywhere from 315 ft/sec to 1,295 ft/sec, and that “it is in the pneumatic nail gun user’s best interest to handle these tools as if they were a firearm despite having a lower velocity” dlkjdslkjflkl

SO THAT SCENE IN IRON MAN 3 WHERE TONY RAIDS A HOME DEPOT AND BUYS A BUNCH OF RANDOM TOOLS AND SHIT AND GOES ON TO STAGE A ONE-MAN INVASION OF AN INTERNATIONAL TERRORIST’S FLORIDA MANSION HQ IS ACTUALLY TRUE. YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT THE FILM “HOME ALONE” IS ACTUALLY A DOCUMENTARY. “the Discovery Channel television program “Mythbusters” compared the penetration capacity of an airborne projectile shot from a pneumatic framing nail gun to that of a 9mm hand gun” HELLO YES AND A MERRY “WHAT THE FUCK” TO YOU AS WELL

anyway, so. there’s apparently a reason why the Number One hero, who can burn people with the intensity of a sun going supernova, is hiding here behind this concrete support column making frowny faces. nope. nuh uh. he ain’t about that. I don’t blame you buddy

so now he’s barrel rolling out of his hiding place and setting this dude THE FUCK ON FIRE because HELL NO. BAD ENOUGH I HAD TO WATCH THAT FUCKING MUSHROOM EPISODE LAST WEEK! YOU TAKE THAT SHIT SOMEWHERE ELSE

LOL look at his face

I know the context is actually him being all “I know I’m responsible for basically everything that happened and so that’s why I’m so grim and serious about this mission to set things right piece by piece,” but in my mind this pissed-off face is 100% all because this dude tried to shoot his eye out with a nail gun. look at that. you made him go full flame face again. beard and all. protecting his face so that it can hopefully melt any stray nails that get too close. nope nope nope

good lord. so what’s up next. let me guess the guy fighting Best Jeanist has like an atomic chainsaw or some shit

lol nope we’re just cutting back to Hawks and Jeanist chilling in the Jesla after they’ve wrapped things up

Jeanist has got some serious Groot energy you guys jesus christ he’s like 12 feet tall

oh snap someone threw a pipe at him now

today is just the chapter of Endeavor being assaulted by random DIY tools I guess

I mean, I get why they’re pissed at him obviously; I would be too lol. but tbh I also don’t really understand the “get out of here we don’t want your help” attitude that all of these people suddenly seem to have?? like it if were me, I would be fucking DEMANDING for him and the other heroes to be working round the clock to fix their stupid mess. I mean who else is gonna do it?? it’s their mess, I sure don’t want to be the one to clean it up instead. anyways but whatever lol

oh shit?

so they haven’t dropped the whole “OFA secret potentially gets revealed to the world” thing yet after all. that makes sense I suppose, it did seem like that whole thing wound up playing out a bit too easily

anyway so yeah

the locals are definitely none too happy. well at least Dabi’s got something to be cheerful about I guess

so now we’re cutting to the interior of the Jesla and they’re chitchatting about the current investigation

oh wow this actually makes a bit of sense now. so there was a reason they were keeping their distance from Deku

please note that even in this abstract Endeavor’s-Mental-Image-Of-Him panel, Deku’s eyes still don’t have the light in them anymore :( my poor son

also ftr I still think using Deku as bait in this particular sense is the shittiest idea ever ngl. like sure, let’s let the sixteen-year-old run around battling miscellaneous escaped prison convicts while we stay several kilometers away ON PURPOSE despite the fact that you’re using him as bait to draw out the Big Bad, who just a reminder can destroy anything with a mere touch and who you were all basically helpless against. what exactly are you all planning to do if Tomura or one of the other League VIPs actually shows up to retrieve him?? are you even keeping tabs on him at all in real time?? jesus

(ETA: well that escalated quickly lol.)

Horikoshi is all of a sudden dropping whole pages of exposition here and I can’t be bothered to summarize this lol so just,

a big fat YES to what Jeanist said, though. that’s why imo they would have been better off laying a trap at U.A. rather than just wandering around out in the open. I assume they’re trying to cut their potential losses because U.A. is full of students (and civilians), but those students also happen to be more capable than pretty much anyone else in the manga at this point. and tbh they’re already in life-threatening danger regardless of how things play out from here on, so they might as well at least try to use the few advantages they have right now. U.A. is almost certainly going to come under siege at some point anyway, so they might as well prepare for it

lol I don’t think I’m explaining this very well because I don’t have the patience right now to break it down point by point like it really ought to be, so for now I’ll just say that imo “U.A. siege” stands a good chance of being the eventual endgame even now, and so this whole “Deku runs around being bait” arc is really just killing time until then lol. like and subscribe for more rambling nonsensical takes such as this. maybe next time I’ll even put it all into one single sentence for maximum meandering senior citizen rant value

well it’s nice that they’re finally talking about all of this I guess

we readers have known all of this for months now but this confirms the heroes are finally caught up. ALSO, Hawks is so fucking smart, as always. kinda wonder if things would have played out differently if All Might had let him in on the secret a bit earlier. probably that’s why Horikoshi made damn sure they didn’t find out until after the War arc lol

OH MY GOD YOOOOOO HAWKS OUT HERE ASKING THE REAL QUESTIONS

“anyone else wondering why AFO bothered to raise Tomura as his fake heir for fifteen years when he was secretly planning on taking over his body the whole time” YES, [raises hand] lmao Hawks where the hell were you when I was debating this “AFO is the final villain and Tomura is just his pawn” thing on multiple occasions over the past several years lol

lmao seeing them debate the metaphysics of OFA and all of its mystical bullshit is seriously surreal you guys

JEANIST HAVE YOU CHECKED OUT MY META TAG I HAVE WRITTEN SO MANY ESSAYS. I ACTUALLY WAS PLANNING ON WRITING ANOTHER ESSAY ABOUT THE THING THAT I’M PRETTY SURE HAWKS IS ABOUT TO BRING UP, BUT I NEVER GOT AROUND TO IT WHOOPS, BUT MAYBE I WILL NOW LOL LET’S SEE HOW IT GOES

yes!!

WHICH AFO FUCKING ENSURED HE WOULD BE BY LITERALLY PLANNING OUT EVERY LAST DETAIL OF HIS FAMILY TRAGEDY, FROM SECRETLY GIVING TENKO THE QUIRK TO MAKING SURE NO CIVILIANS OR HEROES WOULD HELP HIM UNTIL AFO FINALLY STEPPED IN. I’M 1000% CONVINCED THIS IS THE CASE YOU GUYS. NOT JUST BECAUSE I’M NOT A FAN OF “THE WORLD IS A FUNDAMENTALLY SHITTY PLACE, ACTUALLY” TAKES BECAUSE MISTER ROGERS TOLD ME TO ALWAYS LOOK FOR THE HELPERS, BUT ALSO BECAUSE IT LITERALLY JUST DOESN’T MAKE A LICK OF SENSE OTHERWISE. THEIR ENTIRE HOUSE CAVED IN FFS, YOU’RE TELLING ME NONE OF THE NEIGHBORS FUCKING OVERHEARD THAT SHIT AND WENT “UMMMMMMMMM” AND WENT TO SEE WHAT WAS GOING ON?? “DIDN’T THERE USED TO BE A HOUSE HERE, AND LIKE A WHOLE FAMILY, AND SHIT?”

LIKE I’M SORRY, BUT IT’S ONE THING TO SAY IT’S REALISTIC THAT NOT A SINGLE PERSON WOULD ATTEMPT TO HELP THE WANDERING TRAUMATIZED CHILD AFTERWARDS (WHICH I DISAGREE WITH AS WELL BUT AT LEAST THAT’S MORE SUBJECTIVE), AND IT’S A WHOLE OTHER THING TO ARGUE THAT IT’S REALISTIC THAT NO ONE WOULD BE FUCKING NOSY. LIKE THAT’S A WHOLE DIFFERENT LEVEL OF “THAT’S NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS” ENTIRELY LOL. anyway tl;dr AFO is a piece of shit and Tomura’s entire worldview is based on a magnificently intricate and savagely cruel lie more at 11

anyway so after all that ranting it looks like that wasn’t even what Hawks was talking about after all lol. I just went off for absolutely no reason lol oh well. instead it seems that Hawks is suggesting that Tomura’s carefully cultivated hatred might not yet have actually reached “can defeat OFA” levels even after all of that trauma. interesting!

don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here while my brain furiously scrambles to put together all the parallels between Hawks and Tomura that it never noticed before until exactly this second. like I’m not even sure that was the intent here at all (I need to check out another translation or two lol), but regardless my mind decided that now would be the perfect time to make the connection between these two twenty-somethings who both had horrific childhoods and spent years being molded by their respective manipulative guardians, and developed eerily similar “laugh at everything because what else can you do” coping mechanisms to deal with it all hmmmmm

anyway so they were talking more about their strategy, but now all of a sudden Jeanist’s phone is beeping??

AND NOW WE’RE CUTTING AWAY TO ALL MIGHT AND HIS MIGHTMOBILE DAMMIT so that means the call to Jeanist was actually something important then!! WAS IT BAKUGOU OMG. DOES YOUR INTERN WANT A WORD FFFKLFSJK please it’s been so long I just need a little crumb or two to tide me over lmao have mercy

anyway so All Might’s following the GPS tracking device he’s apparently got planted on Deku (which in my conspiracy headcanons he’s actually had for a long time now, like since before DvK2 lol because HOW ELSE WOULD HAVE HAVE KNOWN THAT THEY WERE FIGHTING EACH OTHER IN GROUND BETA, PEOPLE) and thinking angsty thoughts about Deku’s sucky life

AND NOW ALL MIGHT’S PHONE IS RINGING TOO?? BAKUGOU HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE YOU CALLING. “WHERE ARE YOU HIDING THE NERD GODDAMMIT”

OMG

lol is he under attack or is he just finally giving All Might the slip like we all know he SECRETLY PLANNED TO ALL ALONG oh my poor dumb angstmuffin

OMG AHHHHHHH WHAT

DID ALL MIGHT JUST FUCKING DIE LMAO NO OF COURSE NOT, BUT WHAT

WHAT IS HAPPENING OMG

THE FUCK IS THAT. AT LEAST IT’S NOT A NAIL

OH IT’S A SPEAKER!! OMG DID THEY TAKE ALL MIGHT HOSTAGE

“THEY’RE HERE” WELP, TIME TO SEE JUST HOW SHITTY THIS SHITTY PLAN REALLY IS LOL

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SHE!!!!

omg. AND OVERHAUL JUST CHILLING THERE IN THE BACKGROUND ALL “WHAT DO YOU EVEN WANT ME TO DO I’VE GOT NO FUCKING ARMS” YEAH GOOD RIDDANCE LOL

DOES THIS GIRL HAVE ONE GIANT LEG OR WHAT, LIKE WHAT’S THE DEAL HERE

-- HOLD UP WAIT, THE GUN IS HER ARM, HOLY SHIT SHE CAN TURN INTO A GUN -- OKAY HOLD UP BECAUSE I NEED TO SAY THAT IN BIGGER TEXT BECAUSE !!!!

YOU GUYS, THE COOL TARTARUS GIRL IS BACK AND HER QUIRK IS “CAN TURN INTO A FUCKING GUN.” THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! MY BEST GIRL MT. GUN IS FINALLY BACK ON THE SCENE WITH HER QUIRK “CAN DO ANYTHING A GUN CAN DO.” “I HEARD Y’ALL WENT AND NAMED ONE OF YOUR HEROES ‘GUNHEAD’ EVEN THOUGH HIS HEAD ISN’T EVEN A GUN, LIKE WTF IS UP WITH THAT LET ME SHOW YOU HOW IT’S DONE” DANG OKAY

lmao only fifteen pages this week, and STILL NO KACCHAN (THEN WHO WAS PHONE!!!), but man I don’t even care because finally we’ve got a cliffhanger that’s actually deserving of being a cliffhanger! hot dog. okay then

[lilkermit14]

Lavender & Mint

Fem!reader x Pero Tovar 

Synposis: In the conventional village of Cullfield lived an unconventional woman who served as an apothecary for the townsfolk. Stubborn and set in her ways, the woman of three tens remains unmarried and childless and plans to continue as such for the rest of her life, much to the horror and confusion of the village. But this unconventional woman has some surprises in store for her when an unconventional man named Pero Tovar rides into town, an event that will change both her and his plans forever—and may flip Cullfield upside down too.

Notes: Idk why I kept mentioning poop complications this chapter but I’m sorry and enjoy. It’s been a while but the CHAPTER is here. Please reblog!!!!

General Warnings: minor injuries, slow-burn, eventual smut, blood, childbirth

For this chapter: Non-sexual references to poop, mention pregnancy, murder, implicit brief reference to infanticide or child abandonment, pre-marital pregnancy and it’s complications in the 1400s, religious “morals”. 

Chapter 5: Garlic 

Last chapter // Next chapter

“When was the last time you passed bowels, Mister Ashdown?” you inquire, pressing on the old man’s stomach knowing you have found the root cause of his stomach issues. He blinks for a moment thinking as he lays on your observation table, before telling you, “quite some time I’m afraid.”

“I see,” you move your hands away putting your hands on your hips, “well, it seems that you just have a case of constipation––burdensome but not something hard to fix or that will have you laying on your deathbed.”

“You sure?” he asks, almost confused, moving to rise up from the table by himself only for you to come to his assistance. You clarify yourself, “Yes, you have many signs that point to it. It can be caused by a lack of competitive foods in your diet and is more likely with old age.”

“I’m not that old,” He interjects, but you compete, “Yes, but you're old enough for a blockage sir––you’ll be glad to know you’ll live to be truly old as long the burden is treated.”

He huffs now in a sitting position with legs dangling from the table, “so what do you have so i’ll shit.”

You huff at his language, “standard garlic will help move the process along, and I’m suggesting you make sure to eat more greens and berries to clear your system.”

You always assumed that you were let free to discuss any matters with your patients when they were the only ones in the shop, as no one else resided in your residence besides you. But that arrangement had changed and you were not the only one that resided in your home, “If my cock and bowels stop working just have someone put me out of my misery.”

You turn rigid and scandalized to see the face of Pero Tovar standing in your back entrance of the shop—entered unbeknownst to you through quiet steps and a lack of clear view. Mister Ashdown has no qualms defending himself, “I’m only five tens and if my cock doesn’t work how is my wife pregnant?”

You want to scream having to hear this conversation and did certainly not want to be reminded of the conversations you were subjected to by Farrah Ashdown. When the woman at four tens and five found out she was pregnant she spared no expense in telling you how it happened. You opted to rush him along before you could get his account of what he does with his wife, “okay sir here’s your supply get going now.”

“Enjoy the shit,” you hear Pero say and before mister ashdown can respond he is out your door. You turn to Pero fury and rage evident on your face as you are prepared to let the flames of hell loose on him. All he has is a stupid look on his face as he lets out the word, “what?”

“You bastard,” you begin pointing your finger at him moving towards him with menace in your voice towards a man that stands unbothered, “you do not talk to ANY of my clients in such manner especially in my shop.”

“Why is that hermosa? I would be rude to that man outside of your business, what makes your apothecary different?” He queries again with that name, only increasing your anger and distaste for him at the moment. With clenched teeth, you answer him, “I don’t care what you say to Mister Ashdown in town, but my shop is a place of respect––a place where anyone can come for health problems even if they are embarrassing. I want people to know they won’t be judged here because if they feel like they will be, they will come when it’s too late and I can’t do anything for them.”

Pero raises his brow at you, but lets you continue your rant uninterrupted, “When my mother was still alive, a young woman at ten and six came to us complaining of diarrhea, something she was embarrassed to talk about because it was gross and she did not want suitors to find out. Turns out she had sickness from a miasma––we took one look down the town well and discovered a deer had fallen in and died overnight.”

“That was lucky,” he comments, still invested in your story despite the vile nature of talking about excretion. You continue, “Yes, and we may not have caught it so soon if she didn’t come to us. The sickness is fast acting, in hours many more villagers could have been sick, but it was only her––and she lived.”

“Lived?” you smile at his question feeling pride at the healing powers your mom had and hope you live up to, “Yes, the sickness causes dehydration quickly but if you keep the person well hydrated and area clean to prevent reinfection––they will live. This summer she gave birth to her third child at my aid.”

“So their trust is important to you?” you give him a simple nod, glad he is understanding what you were asking of him. You turn to clean up the materials you had brought out to examine Mister Ashdown, not realizing that Pero was not done with questions, “Like how that woman came to you the other day crying in distress?”

You freeze––you had really thought the interest in Mariam had ended when William had first asked you about her the day after asking if she was okay. You nodded and told him it was just feminine needs and didn’t serve much interest in men, something that usually turned men away from asking questions. Well not Pero Tovar I guess, “Why was she crying?”

“It’s a complicated matt––”

“Things of safety are something I have to worry about you know,” He interjects, and you turn your head looking at him to see something serious cross his face, “I have to keep everyone in this village safe––you in particular hermosa––and I want to know if theres something you need to tell me.”

“Part of gaining trust is not telling personal information,” you counter, pulling together to formulate a lie, “It’s nothing of safety she was upset about something––she’s a friend of sorts to me.”

You can tell he doesn’t buy it––he can probably pull the full story together even though you doubt he’s heard a single thing about Mariam’s husband beating her––but he accepts, slouching and learning against a table in thought, “William and I may go for a short hunt––there's not much action in this town I’m afraid and we could use some fresh game.”

You nod, “If you catch any pigeon, I know how to handle it so it's not gamey.”

He huffs, “We're not very good hunters I’m afraid, so you’ll probably only get that or rabbit.”

–––––––––––––––––––

Pero Tovar had useful traits to him––like getting you pigeons––but he was mostly an annoyance. His mere presence always had you on edge, as you waited for something, something from him. It was usually something he said but if not it was his scent or stench rather of pine and something that was him. It was also his sloppy manner, the way he seemed raised with no table manners as he ate all your meals. He spoiled Mite, petting him and feeding him table scraps much to your despair. He was also too loud, his boots filling up the cottage and shop with noise, something that never usually happened.

You lent some time today to make more bread for the household, settling at your dining table and working the necessary ingredients for dough together. Mite lays in the corner, not doing his job as per usual and watching you with some sort of interest in the mannerisms of bread making, but he was likely just hoping for more food in the future. Kneading dough you begin to imagine the dough is Pero kneading your frustration into it. You press and it is his stupid broad shoulders that take up too much space. You pull, it’s the curls on the nape of his neck that are too unruly and untidy. You slam it down, it’s that stupid smile that appears on his face when you have entertained him. God you hate Pero Tovar.

“You may want to stop before you overwork the dough sweetheart,” You stop and see Mildred Becker staring at you with an amused look on her face. You huff Jesus, what does she want, “Sorry for my state, I didn’t hear you enter.”

“Don’t worry I understand too well––I always work out my anger into the dough,” you chuckle a little thinking about how a woman with too many children works out anger the same way as you––you definitely hate Pero Tovar, “I just stopped by because I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

You perk up, “Is Cateline suffering from baby blues again.”

“No, No thank the lord––we’ve been watching over her better this time,” Mildred rounds off, and you remember despite the grievances she gives you, she is a good mother to her children. She was the first to notice that something was wrong with her daughter after the birth and came to you to talk about it. From there Cateline was able to recover and enjoy motherhood, “Something with your house guest Pero Tovar has come to my attention.”

“What did he do,” You ask, prepared to beat Pero Tovar with your broom, but Mildred settles you, “nothing he did, just something someone is doing around him.”

You raise your brow at her beckoning her to continue, “You know Stanislava Rolfe?”

“Of course,” you affirm, surprised she is asking you such a question when you have treated everyone in Cullfield five times over. Mildred continues, “Yes well, She has begun to work at the Inn as a barmaid––she did well with charming Balthasar I guess.”

You were wondering why a poor farmer's daughter’s career path interested you, but you didn’t interject, “I happened to take a quick ale there with my husband, when I noticed something with her and Pero Tovar. You see she appeared extra flirtatious with him––and although barmaids usually are flirty with men in hopes for extra coin, it was more intentional.”

You frown, how could such a beautiful young girl be interested in such a disgusting brute, “Why is she interested in him?”

“Who knows? Many of the girls around Cullfield were excited to see unfamiliar battle-hardened men I supposed,” She ponders for a moment, “all we do know is that she is likely interested in him.”

“I don’t think he is interested in taking a wife,” You contest, brushing aside that Pero would have feelings for the young girl of two tens. Mildred just gives you a hardened stare, “He doesn’t have to be interested in matrimony to want something from her.”

Oh

“Was he showing interest back?” you dig trying to figure out the full extent of what you are formulating must be a whirlwind romance. Mildred hums, “no I suppose not, but sometimes men take persistent interest as a way to have a good time.”

You bite your lip remembering that Pero did not fornicate with prostitutes but barmaids, and feel a ball of ache and pain in your stomach at the thought. Mildred instates, “I came to you about this because I want you to try to stop it.”

“Stop it?”

“Yes, make it clear he is to not have such guests,” Mildred explains, and you can tell by her tone and expression you are in for some sort of story, “You know well enough that things go arigh when an unmarried woman gets pregnant, right.”

“Of course,” you remember the chaos that erupted in families when one of their daughters ended up pregnant, and the hasty weddings that came from it. But Mildred had a different story, “although most of the time it gets swept under the rug with a quick marriage and everyone just chooses to ignore it––horrid things can happen when there's not one.”

Mildred sits down at the nearby table, in clear thought of something dark and you go to sit down at a nearby chair, “When I was about ten and eight, and old enough to understand these things, a girl was taken advantage of by a soldier in our village. She was ten and six, and him far older so he should have had the wisdom not to mess with her. What mattered was after it happened, he left with his troop and was never seen in my home village again. She got pregnant, and tried to hide it at first––her mom was dead and she had no older sisters or aunts to go to, so she was afraid to go to her father. When it became too obvious, hate inspired awful things in the leaders of the village, and by the time she gave birth it accumulated.”

Mildred takes a moment to pause, emotions brewing inside her and you feel yourself frozen in place, “she tried to talk to them, pleading, saying he pressured her––persuaded her, but they all pointed and said witch and condemned her son too. She was burn’t at the stake, and her son––well he was never seen again.”

A pause fills the air as you sit in shock, digesting what Mildred has told you, “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

Mildred huffs, “I’m sorry too, I made sure to get a husband that would get me out of that village and landed a good one on the way––I had seen what that village did to women and children for the sake of moral value and did not intend to stay so my daughters could see too. Adultery is a two person crime that only one party, the feminine one, receives punishment for.”

“So that's why Pero and Stanislava are of such concern to you?” You assume, and Mildred nods, “Although I think Cullfield is of better standing, I don’t desire to find out what they would do if such a case erupted. The girl may be doing this because she intends to capture a man with a better job, but mercenaries rest for a few women and not those of ten and eight.”

“I can understand her intentions I suppose,” you contemplate, believing that she doesn’t hold much true interest in him, but for a better life. Mildred hums, “so is there a chance you can talk to Pero about it?”

“I already established that he is to not bring guests into my home, and I doubt they would find a secluded enough place otherwise,” you reassure, standing up, “I can even remind him today if you would like.”

“That would be good,” Mildred agrees, joining you in standing and allowing you to guide her to the door, “be on the lookout too if you see her come preying––even though he lacks true interest.”

“I will,” you say, and somewhere in your heart you feel prepared to beat Stanislava Rolfe with your broom instead of Pero.

________________

Gardening was no easy task but it was the most necessary task the runner of an apothecary and a household had. Today your tending to crops was more focused on your food supply rather than collecting the necessary ingredients to keep your shop running. You're pleased to see that the last of your harvest grew well, and know that your winter stock will last even with your house guest. You had already pulled out all the carrots, and beets, and had shucked the vines wounding your house of beans and brussel sprouts. You were now left to work at the tough vines of the gourds and squash, planning on leaving the single pumpkin for Pero to handle––who should be on his way home from helping Balthasar with something at his inn.

Standing up with the final gourd in hand––you see something that fills you with immediate displeasure and sickens you to your core. Pero is walking up to your house pursued by Stanislava. You don’t quite know why you feel this angry at him; maybe it’s because you gave him explicit reminders on conduct or maybe––something else. Seeing the near, and well hearing Stanislava, you attempt to think fast to try to get her to leave. Greeting them both in an unnatural kind manner, “Pero, Stanislava, greetings.”

Pero gives you an immediate strange look while his shadow is oblivious and greets you back, “I was just telling Pero this wonderful stor––”

“Oh I must ask how is your rash healing up,” You feel like clapping your hands over your lips the moment the words fly out of your mouth. Stanislava stops in her tracks staring at you blankly, “what?”

“The one I gave you the ointment for––on your groin,” Oh my God what were you doing.

Stanislava turns bright red, “Good thank you––I––I have things to tend to at home, good evening you two.”

Stanislava hurries off, and an amused smile erupts on Pero’s face, “thank you for finally scaring that crow off––she’s been yapping my ear off with nonsense for weeks––I guess you're my scarecrow.”

“Excuse me?” scarecrow, you were going to kill this man. He smiles, a genuine smile, “Yes you scared off my crow––like a scarecrow would. Plus you're covered in leaves right now.”

“Do not call me that”

“Fine mi espantapájaros”

“I swear I’ll smother you in your sleep”

“Is that a true promise for you? Like how you promised not to tell customers private information yet just shouted about the crow’s crotch rash,” at that your body works on it’s own, taking the gourd in your hand and flinging it at Pero’s chest. It was a magnificent shot, and caused the vegetable to break and splatter it’s internal organs onto Pero’s chest and neck. Pero steps back from the impact and looks down on the goop he’s now covered in, “Now, no good espantapájaros does that.”

You press your palm to your face, “Just cut the pumpkin for me and bring it inside, you could use a good bath anyway, your stench is disgusting.”

“I do not smell,” he retorts, and you ignore him, bringing inside your harvest. You really do hate Pero Tovar.

----------------------

Apothecary’s feelings––hate or nah yall?

Garlic is use to treat a lot of ailments in Arab traditional medicine, including  heart disease, high blood pressure, arthritis, toothache, infections, and––as seen in this fic––constipation. Listen, I know the constipation part is true because I ate a pesto made with raw garlic and LORD did I shit. Anything else, not quite sure but hey worth a shot if you are desperate. 

It is also seen as an immune booster for colds and coughs––in fact if you are congested from a cold putting a clove of garlic in each nostril can clear that shit OUT.  

Garlic is also believed to help asthma symptoms. IDK if it actually is true but that’d be iconic because my mom loves garlic and she has asthma. 

Garlic is my favorite seasoning. I put it in my soup. I put it in my eggs. I put it in my ramen. I put it in my burgers. I put it in my cooch––

taglist:

@poenariuniverse @harleyamidala @yespolkadotkitty @storiesofthefandomlovers @babybelou @legally-a-bastard @computeringturtle @clydesducktape @sixties-loser @buckysalefty @april-14-blog @prettylittlegoldfish @softpedropascal @maybege

[mirclealignr]

ridiculous | f.w

fred x reader

Request? Yes ~ Hey! I was wondering if I could request a Fred Weasley x reader soulmate au #8 from your 2nd prompt list. Where your soulmate’s first words are on your wrist. And Fred’s words being something like “That’s what she said”. Idk I thought that would be funny and I’m a sucker for soulmate imagines. Also thanks and I hope you have a good day/night!

requested by @strangerpilot011 ~ i hope you like it <3

word count: 1400+

Fred and George sit in their room, face to face on the floor in their pyjamas.

“Another year Freddie,” George says, staring at his wrist. It was the beginning of their sixth year at Hogwarts tomorrow. Another year had gone by without either of them finding their soulmate. This was another year they had to look to try to find them. Another year they had to be inevitably let down.

“Another year Georgie,” Fred echoes solemnly. The words on his wrist seemed as if they were a joke. The common ‘that’s what she said’ joke. But what if it was something completely mundane? In a way, he hoped that it was a joke. He’d know right then and there that this girl was destined to be for him. Someone who can joke around and have a laugh would be perfect for him. But what if it was something like sitting in a lesson, asking someone a question about what the professor had said and them replying with “that’s what she said”. Merlin, that would be awful. But then again, it would be his soulmate, he’d love them no matter what, right? But surely destiny knew what it was doing. Yes, his soulmate would be perfect, no doubt about that. These were just a few words. They meant nothing...hopefully.

After waving his mother and father goodbye, Fred heads to find a compartment with his brother. They were very late this year, so there was no room with their friends. Walking around aimlessly looking for a compartment, Fred started to become irritated.

“Bloody Hell, it’s like the population of the school duplicated,” he says, earning a laugh from George.

“We’ll find somewher- well, there’s only one girl in that compartment. Looks like she’s sleeping,” George says, pointing towards the girl by the window. Her face was covered slightly, but she was strangely beautiful. Not that she was strange looking, he just had never seen someone that he instantly thought was stunning. They open the door quietly so as not to wake her. They place their suitcases above the seats and sit down. George sits next to the girl and Fred sits opposite her.

“I feel like I recognise her,” Fred says, staring her down.

“Well you should, it’s y/n y/l/n. From our year, you know?” George says. Fred makes a face of sudden recognition. Y/n. Yeah, he’d seen you around before. How did he not notice you were so beautiful before? Why has he never talked to you before?

The train journey drags on. Neither Fred or George wanted to wake y/n and she slept the entire way to Hogwarts. She hardly moved or made noise, she was such a peaceful sleeper. The whole time Fred was wondering who her friends were, why she was sitting there all alone and why she was so tired.

The train comes to a stop and both Fred and George lift from their seats and grab their luggage. The girl remains unmoving to the surprise of both the twins. How could she not just feel that the train had stopped and hear all the rowdy first years excited to see Hogwarts for the first time? They’re about to leave when Fred turns around and lightly taps her on the shoulder, deciding he shouldn’t just leave her there. It does no use, so he brushes a finger lightly against her cheek, hoping the sensation will wake her.

Your eyes flutter open and you begin to look around, realising that you had reached your destination. You’d been so tired you’d slept the whole way, and not even changed into your robes. The whole way, really? Bugger. You look to who’d woken you so gently and find a very handsome and familiar redhead. Fred Weasley. You open your mouth to speak when someone comes barging in, making quite the noise.

“Y/n!” Your friend shouts, “We’ve been looking for you everywhere, thought you’d missed it,” she says, shooing the boys away. You watch as Fred leaves, both of your eyes locked on the other’s until the wall of your compartment comes between you.

“Sorry,” you say getting up, “I was just really tired and just wanted some quiet,” you say, hoping she isn’t too offended. Your other friends pull your suitcase down from the rack and hand it to you.

“Thanks,” you say, looking back to your best friend.

“It’s fine, let’s go before we miss the carriages,” she smiles, holding her arm out. You link your arm with hers and leave the train. Coincidently, the carriage you get in is the one right behind the Weasley twins. You glance over every so often at their carriage, unable to stop your eyes from gravitating towards Fred and find him looking away from you every time. You glance at your wrist and smile the ridiculousness of the statement and hope beyond hope that Fred Weasley is just ridiculous enough.

---

The passing weeks are filled with longing stares, awkward smiles and blushing cheeks. Neither of you had said a single word to each other. You were too scared to do it. What if what you said wasn’t on his wrist? What if what he said was on yours but yours wasn’t on his? That would be absolutely heartbreaking, being hopelessly in love with someone for all time who didn’t feel the same way about you. Can that even happen? You hoped not. So you stayed away, but that didn’t stop you from staring, or blushing when he caught you, or your heart from fluttering when you caught a glimpse of him. And every time he and his brother pulled a prank, you found yourself laughing more than you ever used to. Fred would always look your way, to see if you were laughing. He loved to see you laugh. It seemed as if you were quite the jokester yourself though, your friends were always laughing at something you said. Not that he was looking…

You’re sitting in potions with Fred who was on the table with you and your best friend. He’d been moved for talking and messing around too much with George where he was before. You weren’t complaining, and neither was he much. The blushes seemed more intense now though. You could feel his stares and he could feel yours. You watch as he looks helplessly between the text book and his cauldron. His sighs were becoming heavier and his mutters of frustration a little louder.

“It’s too hard!” He exclaims, throwing his hands in the air in defeat. Your friend begins to laugh at the scene.

“That’s what she said,” you say, unable to hold yourself back. Next to you, the laughter becomes more intense over your commentary. Fred also laughs at you, which makes your heart beat a little abnormally.

“Every man wished she’d said,” he adds. As if on cue, both of your faces drop, laughter subsiding as you both come to the realisation. It was Fred. It really was him, and you’d talked to him without even thinking about it. You clutch your wrist, staring at him. You couldn’t quite believe it. That the person you so wanted it to be was actually who it was. What did you do to deserve that?

“Class is over, get out,” Snape says from his desk. Everyone begins to quickly clean their desk so they can leave the room.

“Y/n, hurry up,” your friend says. You snap back to reality and clean your desk, leaving your cauldron empty on the table. Fred does the same, pulling himself away from gawking at you. The three of you leave the classroom and head out of the dungeons. When you reach the top of the stairs, you stop, turning around to look at Fred and George. Fred lifts his sleeve to show George his mark and then looks up, getting ready to point at you but finding you already looking at him. George gives a knowing smile before waltzing past the two of you.

“Y/n, aren’t you-“

“Come on, love, they’ve got some talking to do,” George says, pulling her away. You’d have to thank him later for that.

Fred walks slowly up the remaining stairs towards you, expression unreadable. You open your mouth to speak, to say something to break the silence between you, but his lips prevent any forthcoming words. He tastes sweet, sweeter than anything you’d tasted before. His hands are placed either side of your neck, tilting your head up with the edge of his palms. You lift onto your tip-toes, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. After a few moments, your both begin to smile and laugh into the kiss.

“I can’t believe those were our words,” you giggle in disbelief.

“It would only be us, love” he smiles, pecking your lips again.