#kate writes a thing

[sukibenders]

Bridgerton states from season one, through Simon and Lady Danbury, to season two, with the Sharmas, to Queen Charlotte, from the beginning episode to the end spelled out clear as day, that racism exists in this world and many of the characters of colors have been impacted by it in some way. And, supposedly, I'm supposed to believe that Marina, that Kate and Edwina, that they all had more privilege and power than Penelope? No, I don't think so, a lot of things aren't right with that statement.

[bodythieves]

shane mccutcheon x you | cw: intox!makeout, slight fingering?, dirty talk-ish | stoner!shane, neighbor!shane, anxious!reader (is that how i label this shit?)

THIS IS RLY LONG!

okay, okay. let's be honest here: you are not one for change. you are not one to break out of your routine, one to sway from your typical path. no, rather, you are steadfast in every moment of your day, to an absolute t. some of your friends like to tease you until your skin feels hot, and you look down at your feet. you have a google calendar (your lord and savior) and a prescription for an unnamed anxiety medication that you'd-rather-not-talk-about.

and shane. oh, god, shane mccutcheon. shane was your neighbor in a shitty LA apartment, a hairstylist/absolute fucking menace. every other day, she's sitting on the stoop, feet flat on the ground and elbows on her knees, a cigarette dangled between her lips. she'd smile, check you out- go to say something. but you- being you, of course- would quickly swing open the and duck inside.

today was particularly awful for you, though. your therapist had broken up with you. he was moving to a new practice, they didn't accept your insurance, and you had just gotten so comfortable. remember how we made it known that you weren't great with change? the smallest thing could make you itch. make you feel as if you had lost everything, like it all was over. so, understandably, you were having a meltdown inwardly that you couldn't let out until you reached the sanctuary of your one bedroom apartment and closed that manager's-special, white door. except you wouldn't be doing that, no. not now. because you felt your face betray you as you neared the pathway that led to the glass vestibule of the apartment complex. there she was.

"oh, look," she snorts softly through her nostrils, her lips quirking up into a smile upon seeing your own (even if it was microscopic). she had just sat down to smoke as you neared, her lithe frame hunched over as she picked through a paper cigarette pack. "didn't know you were able to do that." tracking shane's movements, your eyes followed the brunette as her slender fingers plucked out a cigarette, and brought it to that smug grin.

"I've smiled at you before." you said this far quicker than you would've liked to. quick enough that shane could tell you were already nervous. your paces brought you to the cement set of steps before the vestibule, the glass reflecting a soft glare from the setting LA sun. as you came closer, you let your gaze drift over her. shaggy brown hair, a charming disposition- definitely was trying to make you laugh. you cleared your throat, then looked back at Shane's cigarette before she lit it. "do you.. care if i bum one of those?"

um, who the fuck is that? why are you asking for a cigarette right now? oh, that’s right. you were being you when faced with uncomfortable amounts of difference in your typical day-to-day life. your therapist dumped you, your job is mundane, your family is incessantly nagging you, your anxiety is never-

“oh?” shane perked up, the filter of her cigarette now between her teeth as she smiled, rather than her lips. dark green eyes sparkled playfully, but her brows pushed up in an attempt to feign sympathy. she could tell you were feeling off today. after all, you were speaking. “yeah, sure, of course,” she said, fingering open the back with her thumb and taking a look. something about shane’s voice sounded so teasing. as if she wanted to sound like she’d take care of you, like she was worried. her left hand moved up to pull the cigarette from her teeth and her tongue darted out to wet the corner of her lip. A small tsk could be heard from her. “mm.. I only got my lucky left. you don’t care to share, do you?”

you were gonna faint. you were gonna fall over, die, cream your fucking pants. yeah, of course, you thought shane was hot before. why else would you avoid her every time she tried to holler at you? you couldn’t handle that. like we established earlier- you’re a hazard when your schedule is disturbed. but now? right here, standing just a couple feet away from a shane, engaging in conversation, breaking your perfectly time-alotted pattern? the thing that kept you distracted from all the shit of your daily experience? you’d never seen anything hotter.

you felt your body begin moving against your will, sitting down beside shane without missing a beat. your feet became brutus, your mind julius, crying why! you too?! you’re betraying me! as you turn and allow the backs of your sneakers to hit the cement step, lowering yourself down. part of it was definitely to show yourself off to shane. at least a little bit. if you were going to deter from your repetitive habits, why not be a little risky? flirt a little? on the other, you just needed to know that another person was real. what better proof is proximity? “yeah, that’s cool,” your voice is quiet as you take in the sight of shane so close and in such pretty light, your nerves absolutely eating at you.

her lighter was lime green and struggled to spark at first. instinctively, you reach out. you cup your hand around the lighter and use your fingers to hide shane’s cigarette. smoke curls from her nose and she pulls her face away, pinching her brows together as the cigarette began to spark. nodding a silent thank you for your assistance. hush sounds of burning paper, then a cloud of smoke, exhaled through the woman’s nose- you begin to forget. why had you never really spoken to her before? why do you avoid interaction like this?

“well,” shane mumbled from the butt of the cigarette, more smoke leaving her nose. “you have a pretty smile.”

you and shane sit in a friendly silence for a moment, but it’s quickly changing. you can feel that shane is checking you out. of course she is- you’re insanely cute. with high features that are just soft enough, making you so easily approachable. if only you weren’t an anxiety attack on legs! taking a glance at her, you can feel your heart pick up motion in your chest, thrumming inside of your work uniform. shane puts her fingers to her lips and pulls the cigarette away with her thumb and forefinger.

“you smoke weed?” you asked her, raising your eyebrow. your fingers moved, taking the cigarette between your own thumb and finger.

“uh,” she said, starting to let out a chuckle. “i mean, yeah. why?”

“you hold it like you’re smoking a joint.”

“hm,” shane smirked a little, letting you take the cigarette from between her fingers. “do you smoke?”

you shrug a little, taking a slow pull from the dart of tobacco, letting the thick smoke hit your throat and sit for a second. it had been a long time since you’d had one, and it always felt so right when you needed it. “sometimes,” you said, still holding your drag in your throat. “gives me bad anxiety on occasion. try to steer away from it.”

“damn,” shane’s green eyes rake over the side of your face, taking in your features as you blew out a faint stream of smoke. “you think this could be one of your sometimes?”

you pass the cigarette back, turning your head slightly to the left so you can look at shane. a sheepish expression crosses your lips and you mull over the thought. but only for a minute.

“yeah. honestly, i could probably use it.” what was a little more change? what was a little more anxiety? at this point, neither could push you any further than you already were. your response to shane’s question caused the brunette to smirk around the filter of the cigarette, and she nodded as she exhaled. you two sat for a few minutes after, sharing the smoke. there weren’t really any words spoken, but the lack of conversation was made up for in exchanged glances. you took a final drag of the cigarette, then dropped it on the ground and used the toe of your shoe to step it out.

simultaneously, you and shane stood on your feet from the stoop of the apartment complex. you looked her over- taking in her tall and dangly frame, hidden beneath a dark gray zip up and loose jeans, hanging from her hips. her shaggy hair was flippy and chopped, a small blonde tuft in the back. she was.. god, she was actually so cute. you looked away for a second, remembering that you were about to join her. upstairs. in her apartment. and smoke weed. with hot cheeks, you turned on your sneaker and moved on to the cement steps, pacing towards the glass door and slipping your key inside. shane’s presence was looming. literally. you felt her come up behind you and grab ahold of the metal frame just above your head, pulling it open wider so you could get in.

christ, you thought. you were betraying everything you knew: routine, mundanity, consistency. to go hang out with your neighbor who brought home new girls every other night, who smoked out the whole complex, who always smiled at you when she saw you. fuck, fuck, fuck- sneakers, both yours and shane’s, lightly thudded on the linoleum steps of the apartment hallway, bouncing off walls. jeez, focus long enough, you were certain you could hear your heartbeat echo back to you. oh, god, oh, god, oh, god- you stand behind shane, she leads you into her apartment. messy, disorganized, totally not you. you are well kept, you are neat, you are- totally about to jump this woman’s bones. you realize this as Shane sits down on her futon, legs spread wide, her lap just begging for you to come sit on it. oh, god. fuck. oh, god, oh-

“fuck,” you breathed out. you’d had to have been holding that in forever, lungs burning and eyes clenched tight. your head fell back on to the arm of shane’s futon and you could’ve sworn that this was all just a dream. that joint was either insanely strong, or you were losing time because of your previously high levels of anxiety and tension. ‘relax’- she had whispered to you, just before this heated session- ‘let me take care of you. i know what i’m doing, swear. only if you want me to.’ of course you wanted to. to deny that would be an absolute lie.

you feel shane’s breath fan against your neck, the sensation warm and all-consuming. her nose pushing against your jaw and nestling below your ear, soft lips brushing along your skin, ringed fingers slipped up your shirt and ghosted her fingers over your naval, teasing gently at a metal piercing that lay in the skin. her smile could be felt against your neck and she reared back, leaning on to the heels of her feet with a playful grin. her eyes sparkled and she pulled the hem of your shirt up with her right hand, then moved her left from the back of the futon. that hand made its sneaky way to your thigh, pushing your knee into the futon’s black fabric.

“that’s cute.”

“yeah?”

“oh, for sure. you.. got another one?”

“no,” you murmur shakily. you suddenly wished you had more. wished you’d succumbed to those thoughts of impulsivity that rushed through your brain when your spiraled out of control. you thought, for a moment, it would’ve made you more attractive. but… it seemed like shane didn’t mind it. she dropped your shirt and brought that right hand to her mouth, running her thumb and forefinger over her chin. her left then took hold of your black slacks, the uniform for your job, her forefinger hooking into a belt loop.

“that’s okay,” she said, looking at you through her lashes, letting her hand fall as she spoke. “you’d look really good with some more.”

you can’t do this any longer you are losing grip now. you shift your hips desperately, the futon squeaking annoyingly beneath you, but you brush it off. your nerves are shot, you’re insanely horny, you need to get this shit out of your system. “shane,” you mumble lowly, trying to get her attention. you succeed.

but first, she cracks that teeth-rotting smile. the one just sweet enough to make your mouth hurt, and sexy enough to make you sick. then, she does it. she leans in again, and you are full on making out. no longer just slowly kissing, clouded in a smoky haze, kisses tasting of resin and cigarettes. her lips are so soft, her fingers nimble and dexterous as they cup the small of your back. she pulls you. up, into a sitting position, and wraps her palm around the nape of your neck to hold you there. the hand that had pulled you shifted once more as shane lay back on to the futon, and you went right with her. she was handling you. not forcibly, no, but gently, enough to just guide you.

and seeking a safety net in your crumbling control, you let her. you slid into position, right in shane’s lap like you’d wanted to be in the first place. perfect. hanging your head low, you pushed down against your neighbor’s lap and felt yourself rush with a specific heat you only experienced when you knew you weren’t supposed to be doing something. foreheads pushed together, lips a breath apart, you closed the gap. your hands brace the sides of shane’s head and your knuckles nearly turn white from how hard you grasp on to the wooden frame.

shane’s kiss is absolutely filthy. she’s licking, drawing your mouth open as if it were a profound cavern she was in dire need to explore, pulling air from your lungs. you aren’t sure how you’re still feeling at this point, but a trace of shane’s touch runs down across your belly button piercing again and pulls at the button of your slacks. expertly, her lips never once stop moving as the plastic black button pops and she teases down your zipper.

you. oh, you have never been so hungry. you were starving. fuck schedules. fuck routine, to hell with repetition. what was it for anyway? to be comfortable? being comfortable never brought you into situations like this. without thinking, one of your hand relents from the frame and rushes to grab shane’s hand, pushing at her wrist so her fingers would cup just above your underwear, palm right over your pubis. you hadn’t shaved in awhile. though you were tidy, you hadn’t had any in awhile. shane liked it though. you could tell based on how she smiles against your mouth.

words no longer suffice. you clench violently around nothing, your need so heavy that you feel your pulse in the depths of your center. shane pulls away only for a moment to gaze into your eyes as she pulls the fabric of your slacks just slightly past your hips. enough to where she can push your underwear to the side and tuck her fingers against your warm skin, and enough to watch you react.

“you..” shane nearly moans out the word. “you’re.. stupid wet right now.” her brows turn up and she parts her lips, leaning forward on to futon so she could be closer to you. her fingers moved. and you’d never felt something so good. silver rings, soft fingertips, hands that knew what they were doing. you shuddered and jerked, nearly squealing as she ran her thumb over your clit. she looked like she was about to worship you. like she was ready to pray to you. she was so adorable, somehow.

“yeah,” there’s hardly anything but desire behind your voice now. “yeah, i.. i told you-“ you grunt and jerk your hips.

just as Shane’s fingers begin to move in circles, your eyes flutter shut and you begin rocking your hips.

“i needed that joint.”

shane hums out a low chuckle and nods her head. her thumb leaves your clit for only a moment. brushing south and rubbing along your entrance, she eases the truth from your lips.

“i hoped it would end with this, too.” you tone was airy, so overwhelmed with need that you could hardly hear yourself speak.

and just like that, how the truth did set you free. shane’s lips met yours and she kissed you so slowly. lips locked passionately, as if she were thirsty and the only refreshing thing was your kiss. her fingers moved back to your clit, stroking and pushing in motions that rounded your hood with horrifying ease. this was too good. this was great. this was perfect.

you were never going to stick to routine ever again.

notes: okay that’s it im done Im so sorry to lead up so much to barely anything at all but. BUT I GOT NERVOUS. ANYWAY HERE’S THIS IM TAGGING @thestarkillers bc ik they love shane the way i do and this is for them ok bai ALSO i wrote the second half of this drunk. enjoy!

[cerise-on-top]

Hi, I saw that you opened your requests again, I don't know if I misinterpreted, but it seems that you haven't been well, anyway, I hope you are better, I'm glad you are taking some time for yourself. <3

Farah, Valeria, Laswell and Price.

(My requests are always about them, they are my favorite ^^)

An incredibly young and immature reader but with such great potential, sometimes they don't even know how the reader comes back from missions alive, and even if they do know, the reader comes back very injured because they don't hesitate to get hurt, or they take risks to save the life of your teammates or to help with the mission.

I imagine the lectures Laswell could give for such stupidity.

And even if they are wrong, the reader just rolls his eyes at the sermons and makes promises of change, not knowing that he is too impulsive to keep that promise. But even if the reader is very irresponsible in combat, he is very skilled, perhaps because he is young, or very intelligent, in addition the reader is a bomb of emotions, perhaps because he doesn't know how his own brain works, it constantly changes of humor, being seen as chaotic, and sometimes he does things so stupid that he makes them laugh, and maybe that's why they keep him around, or maybe because they like to take care of the reader.

Stay well, drink water and have a great day. And as always, I'm using the translator, sorry if anything gets confusing.

Almost two months late, but I got there eventually! This is the last request in my inbox, now I can do as I please!

Price, Valeria, Farah and Laswell with a Reckless and Immature Male!Reader

Price: Oh, you’re gonna give this man a heart attack at some point. He recognizes how skilled you are, he really does, but he wishes you were a bit less impulsive and reckless. As much as he loves having you around, for your skills and the fact that he feels like a father towards you, he will continuously tell you to be more careful. I can see him making you go through more rigorous training than most other soldiers just so you would finally learn to not be so reckless. Sure, he’ll have your back when it counts, but sometimes he needs to focus on his own survival as. He’ll try to cover you whenever he can, but it’s just not always possible. You may be loyal and reliable, but a dead soldier is no good. I feel as though he might get a little loud with you if you roll your eyes at him. He’s used to the disrespect from his soldiers, but that doesn’t mean he appreciates the sass. I don’t think he’d find most stupid things all that funny, especially not if it puts you at risk. You’re definitely gonna butt heads a lot with him. He won’t give in either, though. Price is a pretty stubborn man himself when he needs to be. However, if you get too emotional, then he’ll try to calm you down. He has lots of experience with all kinds of people, so he’ll get there. Tries to be the reason to your impulsiveness and will stop you from doing things that are unwise.

Valeria: She’s probably thoroughly amused by you. Yes, you’re very reliable, intelligent and very skilled, but that doesn’t mean you’re not an idiot in other ways. I think at first she wouldn’t care all that much about you and would see you as another asset, nothing more and nothing less. Once you prove your loyalty to her, she might grow a bit attached to you, though. However, she’ll also give you lectures. Not as many as the others, but she will. Especially when you’re on the verge of death. Yes, she may know nothing she says will get through, but she can try. Will yell at you, though. She doesn’t mind you being impulsive that much, until it puts you at death’s door. You’re a very competent man, you can pull off most things that you do, which she can appreciate. However, she does not appreciate always having to come to your rescue for almost any mistake and miscalculation you make. Sometimes, when she’s fed up enough, she does consider just letting you die. Unfortunately, she’s gotten too attached to you to let that happen. If you do something stupid, then she’s probably the only one on the list to actually laugh. You’re amusing to her, which is one of the reasons she keeps you around. Does not give up hope that you will come to your senses eventually as you mature, but she does want to keep you dumb to some degree. As long as you keep being her loyal mutt, all is good.

Farah: She’s a very meticulous person when it comes to her cause. While not everything goes well, most things have to in order for the majority of the world to not interfere. Farah does not appreciate you being this reckless at all. Not only are you one of her brothers, which means she cares a great deal about you, you almost always come back severely injured. She won’t say too much at first, but she will reach a breaking point eventually. Will scold you rather harshly, if she has to. Does not appreciate the sass and the empty promises. She does threaten you with leaving you behind if you don’t stop this nonsense and start taking better care of yourself. Yes, you’re always trying to save others, but you really shouldn’t be taking this many risks. Your skills are vital, yes, but she will not sacrifice you like that. She’s lost too many people that way already. It highly depends on what kind of stupid things you do. If you’re actively being a menace towards yourself, she won’t laugh. She’ll scold you. You’re young, you shouldn’t be a role model like that for others. She’s a bit harsh towards you, but that’s only because she cares. When you’re seriously hurt, she’ll be a bit more gentle towards you, but will scold you again afterwards. She keeps you around because she cares greatly about you, but is not above taking you out of the fight if she has to. While she’s glad you wanna help her, you’re not going to lose your life just because you’re reckless and impulsive.

Laswell: She’s probably the most calculating regarding where she puts your skills to use. She gets to choose which missions you get to go on, which means she’ll try her best to minimize the risk of you actually dying. Of course, for some reason, you always come back hurt anyway. Yes, you’re highly skilled, but that doesn’t mean she won’t scold you for not taking better care of yourself. However, her words go in through one ear and out the other. I don’t think she’ll actively yell at you since you always have other people in mind, but she won’t stop nagging at you either. Also threatens to send you to an early retirement if you don’t listen to her. However, Laswell is usually a rather calm person when she needs to be. She’s capable of taking care of you when you’re being rather emotional. Like Price, she’ll be the voice of reason and make sure you don’t do anything reckless or stupid. She doesn’t find your endeavors funny either, but will tolerate them, as long as you’re not hurting yourself. She keeps you around for your skills and because she cares a great deal about you, but she will keep on telling you to be more careful. Does not send you on missions on your own since you always need someone that makes sure you come back alive. If she needs a second opinion, then there’s a chance she might come to you. You might lack the experience as of right now, but you’ll get there eventually. She just needs to make sure you will.

[fist-of-vengeance]

thinking about how essentially every relationship john locke formed in the early seasons of lost has completely disintegrated by the time of his death.

of course there's his relationship with jack, which starts tense but manageable and culminates in jack pointing a gun at john's head and pulling the trigger. but even his smaller, less narratively prominent relationships either implode or drift apart. he bonds with walt in season one but then walt leaves the island, which is itself a severing of their bond since it was mainly based on being the only two people who wanted to stay. still, he goes and visits walt off the island so this is probably john's most successful relationship. I dont think i need to explain how he fucked up with boone, "the sacrifice that the island demanded." charlie viewed john as a mentor and claimed to trust him more than anyone on the island, but after the events of fire and water, that trust is destroyed and charlie despises him. at the same time we get john bonding with claire and having a pseudo-paternal dynamic with her, but their closeness basically drops off the face of the earth as he gets less and less involved with the other survivors.

his arc in the series is essentially a gradual distancing from everyone around him. it starts when he abandons hunting (providing for the others) in favor of trying to get the hatch open (it's extremely clear his primary motive isn't any survival applications but getting answers to the mystery). when they do open the hatch, he spends more and more time inside, underground, cut off from other people. he spends more and more time interacting with ben, a human mystery box that he's obsessed with cracking even if it gets him killed. he follows the proverbial white rabbit deeper down the hole and leaves his connection to humanity behind. the island and its mysteries become more important to john than anything or anyone else.

then in season three we get him claiming to go undercover with the others only to unceremoniously tell sawyer that he's actually going to join them. and it doesn't feel shocking, it feels inevitable. because john has spent the entire series becoming less and less connected with the people he arrived with. in that sense he actually makes a fascinating foil to juliet, who is introduced as one of the others and yet never really fits, she's increasingly sympathetic and kind in a way the rest of them aren't, her redemption arc feels so natural that she actually starts referring to her old people as "the others" like she's been one of the crash survivors from the beginning. her and john basically have inverse arcs, which is probably accidental but very neat.

in season five john tries to convince everyone to go back to the island, and fails spectacularly. and of course he does, because he was so consumed by obsession that he stopped maintaining his relationships, and in many cases actively alienated people (this is also basically what happened with helen) and now he can't wrap his head around why they're all so hostile to him. i am forever obsessed with the scene where he confronts kate and she brutally calls him out for wanting to return to the island because he doesn't love anyone. it actually struck me on rewatch how well the two of them got along in season one, and how badly their relationship has degraded by this point. john repeatedly casts aside interpersonal relationships in favor of his obsession with destiny, so when said destiny actually involves persuading the people he once shunned, he's at a loss. this is because john treats purpose as a supplement for connection, destiny as an alternative to love.

as an aside, this aspect of john's character kinda ties into my opinion that several lost characters can be read as allegorically neurdivergent under a certain lens. i know this was absolutely not intended, but as an adhd former gifted kid who struggles socially, there is something uncomfortably familiar about a character who allows their relationships to burn around them because of a single-minded obsession, especially as a result of being promised the fickle status of "special."

tl/dr: john locke is a doomed idiot and i love him

[brynnmclean]

Oh you know. You know!!!!

[spaceorphan18]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Not really Anthony and Penelope, Not really Colin and Kate Characters: Penelope Featherington, Colin Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton, Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Eloise Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, small cameo from, Simon Basset Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Humor, Romance, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Wrong Partner - Partner Switch, Borderline crack, It's fun and light - don't take it too seriously, blind dates Summary:

Eloise Bridgerton just wants her brother, Anthony, to be happy, so she sets him up on a blind date with her best friend, Penelope Featherington. Penelope, in turn, doesn't want to go alone, so she brings her roommate, Kate Sharma, for Eloise's other brother - Colin. It's a double blind date, and they all start to realize maybe they're on a date with the wrong person.

*****

Good Morning!! I may have done a thing last night... It’s both a Polin and Kanthany story <3 

[coachbeards]

this is still one of the funniest videos i've ever seen. i just love how this + season three's pressroom cemented that you should absolutely NOT give beard a microphone

[whispers-of-gallifrey]

I feel like it's the little things about the AAI2 official translation that's going to get me more than the character names

Like the PIC now being the Committee for Prosecutorial Excellence or Logic Chess becoming Mind Chess and 'Wait and See' becoming 'Bide my time'

Its bc I know the character names are changing but I havent thought about all these little things that are going to change too

[mellow-plum]

"Dear Eliza, this is something I should have said a long time ago. I love you."

Miss Scarlet and The Duke (2020-)

[multongsisig]

Goblin King Does His Chronicles Lying On Bed Like Schoolgirl

[sarcasticsciencefictionwriter]

Welcome to Things That Go Bump In the Night 2024!

This is an unofficial Halloween event for the Sanctuary fandom.

You do not need to use the prompts to participate.

Anything Halloween/spooky season related is more than welcome in the AO3 collection, but it must fall under that theme and it must be for Sanctuary.

Have fun everyone!

(Text versions of prompt and event is below the cut)

Prompts

Regular

Candy

Candles/Lanterns

Trick and treat

Ghost/Scary stories

Horror

Pumpkin Carving Tools

Fog

Thud

Creature

Dialogue

"That's just a shadow...right?"

"Boo!"

"You call that a costume?"

"What was that?"

"Happy Halloween!"

"I swear, this happens every year."

"Just say it's a mask."

"That blood had better be fake."

"Of course it's in the cemetery."

Info

What's allowed/not allowed: Anything goes, as long as it's properly tagged and falls under the theme and fandom.

Prompts: Use any or none, combine as many as you want! Go wild.

How Many Stories Can I Write: As many as you want!

Collection?: Is pending, will open in the fourth week of October and a link will be provided in a post and the Sanctuary community. If an earlier date is preferable, just reach out! If you want your story in the collection, please wait to post until the collection opens. (Again, reach out if you have questions/opinions regarding timing)

Run By: @sarcasticsciencefictionwriter (Sarcastic_Science_Fiction_Writer on AO3)

I Have Questions/Something Wasn't Covered Here: Just message or ask in the replies!

Happy Halloween!

[reds-skull]

BLOOD||HUNGER

[PREV PART] [AO3]

OOO I'm very excited to share this chapter! We're getting close to the finish line!

Its name is "The Song of Us"

Page 54 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 15:

The Blind man asks his companion, before dawn break, What do you believe, is a beast’s fate, Once death seizes its life, in his inevitable grasp? The beast, his heart knowing of the fallen knight’s pleas, Of men they lost, who were left to be but a worm’s dark feast, Answers, death reaches for monsters all the same as men, For the unjust, for the cruel, For the kind, for the forgiving, All bones become one, until they become none, As death is the only being, to see all as one and the same.

This city is quiet, in the way a drowning is. Something wicked is happening under the surface, hidden from plain sight. If only its victim had air to scream.

The Hunter has intel beyond the SAS’s scope, beyond Laswell’s. Informants, comms. A man pronounced to all as dead. How is it possible, they were written off as a non-threat before?

Soap grits his teeth, tapping the lit end of his cigarette on a wall. Simon started moving a few minutes ago, the poison once again retreating. By the haunted look in his brown eyes, John could tell they both know he’s running out of time.

Price has been arguing with Laswell while helping Simon. Something about the fact the Hunter seemingly didn’t exist a year prior, on paper. Appeared out of nowhere one day with an army behind them, ready to burrow into intelligence networks in a way even Makarov couldn’t.

Makarov’s name came up a lot in that conversation. Enough that Soap had to take a smoke.

Anger thrums through his veins. Begging for blood. The same incessant screaming that drove him to choke the life out of Makarov, the same fire that kept him going through this personal slice of hell.

Maybe he’s an idiot, for wanting to kill the Hunter, for believing it will change anything.

The cigarette’s flame licks his fingers.

Soap crushes it against the wall. He turns around, watching Simon and the Captain. Far enough to not hear them, but they seem to need a bit of privacy anyway. Soap can’t say he’s ever seen Price that emotional, in their short meetings.

He asks himself where Gaz is when the Lieutenant approaches him.

“Price is bloody livid, isn’t he?” Gaz huffs.

Soap hums. His eyes move from the Captain to Simon, his mask still on the ground besides him.

Kyle follows his stare, “did you know Ghost’s identity, when I found you two?”

“No”, the white skull almost glows in the moonlight, “I only found out when… the communicator tried to use it against him.”

He can feel Gaz scan his features, “and you still decided to work with him.”

Soap doesn’t answer. Simon and Price are hugging now, the movement uncoordinated to Ghost. He doesn’t know how he can tell.

He turns to face Gaz, “I swore we will finish this together. I don’t go back on my word.”

“We both know this goes beyond that, Soap.” Gaz gives him a half smile, “the way you look at him… Haven’t seen you like that with anyone else.”

Soap frowns, scoffing, “don’t know what yer-”

“You have feelings for him, don’t you?” Gaz asks, almost gently.

…Feelings?

…..Could he?

“I…”

“Don’t lie to yourself.” Gaz murmurs, “in all the years I’ve known you, you didn’t act like this. Going against everyone you know, jumping in front of him when Price starts threatening him, letting him rest his bloody head on your legs- c’mon Soap, you’re fucking smitten with the man-”

“Kyle.” Soap stops him, head hanging down to hide the embarrassment painting his cheeks red. He scrubs a weary hand over his features, looking up at his friend between his fingers.

Gaz’s eyes soften. Soap sighs, “I- this is not the time for that kind of shite. We need to fuckin’ dust the Hunter, and then-”

And then what?

Soap lowers his hand, stare unconsciously drifting towards Simon. Since when have his eyes started doing that?

It hasn’t been more than a month since he arrived to this godforsaken city. How is it that John can’t imagine being alone again?

Or… how can’t he imagine an ‘after’ without Simon?

“I won’t lie to you.” Kyle starts, his tone gentler, “I still don’t fully trust Ghost. Even if he is… Simon Riley.” the Lieutenant places a hand on his shoulder, “but I can tell what you truly want, even if you think it’s not feasible.”

“That’s because it isn’t-”

“Bullshit.” Gaz turns John around to face him, “look, we are not good men. We’ve been operating outside the law for… for as long as I can remember. What we do, the way we dirty our hands...”

Kyle lets out a shaky exhale, squeezing his shoulder, “what I’m saying is, we can make people disappear. And if you… if you want that, I can help. I’m sure Price will too-”

“Yer out of yer mind-”

“Are you going to go back to Scotland, mate?” Gaz’s voice sharpens on desperation, “are you gonna go back to feeling like you have nothing to live for? Can you really leave this life, leave Ghost, behind?” He almost whispers the end, “be honest.”

How could he go back? No apartment, endless job search, a buzz under his skin that cannot be scrubbed off, disappointment to his family, emptiness, emptiness, emptiness-

“What else can Ah do?!” Soap tenses under Gaz’s hand.

That hand keeps him steady all the same, “whatever you want, John.” Kyle smiles sadly, “me and Price don’t have that freedom, but you two? You don’t have stuffy generals breathing down your neck.”

“I don’t-” Soap cuts himself off, thoughts whirling faster in his mind. He gets reminded of what his therapist used to say about him, back when he was just discharged.

“You fixate on danger, John. To the point of obsession. You don’t know when to let go, if you believe you can make things right.”

“Even if the cost is more than you should be willing to pay.”

“Just… think about it. Besides…” Gaz looks away, expression darkening, “I have a feeling the 141 might need people like you in the future.”

Soap brows furrow, “dishonorably discharged adrenaline addicts?”

Kyle chuckles, “no”, his hands tighten on Soap’s shirt, “people we can trust. People who are willing to do what’s right, even if they know they shouldn’t. Even if they don’t act the way the higher ups would want them.”

His brown eyes turn to look at John, determination he first saw on bootcamp only growing stronger, “people like you.”

Soap goes through another cigarette with Gaz by the time Price and Simon return to them. Both of their eyes shine with tears.

“Laswell did some digging.” Price grunts, “wasn’t easy, finding intel on the Hunter. They know their way around our networks, clearly.” his stare flickers towards Simon, “this operation-”

“Mass murder” Soap corrects. Calling this an operation would spit on the dozens of innocent people left to rot here.

“Mass murder”, the Captain continues, “is very unusual for the Hunter’s soldiers. Almost… flashy.”

“The communicator admitted it was an attempt to frame me.” Simon rolls up the mask in his hands, slipping it on, “they needed to show the British Army I’m too dangerous to keep.”

“And they knew the SAS would send the 141 because of the informant.” Gaz huffs.

Price nods, “which they did succeed in, but it also exposed them to us.”

“The SAS wouldn’t have investigated it further if ye actually killed Ghost the first time around.” Soap grumbles, wincing a moment later when he remembered who he’s talking to.

The Captain takes it surprisingly seriously. “Correct. This is not the first time they hide behind a smaller, supposedly unconnected criminal.” he hangs his arms on his tacvest, commending voice booming in the empty streets, “the Hunter is now top priority for the 141, our orders are to eliminate them, along with any high ranking officers remaining within their army. This mission is classified to all but us and Laswell - anyone else will be treated as a potential collaborator of the Hunter.”

“What about Soap and Ghost, Captain?” Gaz asks.

Price sighs, “Ghost has escaped after releasing the civilian he captured as leverage. And John MacTavish?” a sly smile pushes his mustache up, ”he has never set foot in this city.”

Kate Laswell isn’t someone Soap knew well, back in his service. Has heard her name being dropped in a couple of debriefs, a few calls here and there regarding missions.

He becomes increasingly grateful she’s on their side, as she brings up more and more intel on the Hunter. Their main source of information is the informant Ghost killed - the man recognized several undercover soldiers moving supplies in and out of the city in the past few weeks. He knew something big was going to happen, but the SAS waved it off as a local gang.

On the day of his death, he managed to send in one last report. The informant knew his time was limited, that his cover was blown, so the message was painfully short.

‘Skull in warehouse, Konservy, game over’

It was not clear if who he referred to when he transmitted the name “Skull”, and at the time the comms officer asked the informant to repeat, thinking it was a mistyped “Ghost”. With what they know now, it’s highly likely he was actually talking about the Hunter, and their red skull insignia. Konservy is a name of a warehouse, two clicks out of the city, as Laswell quickly found out.

‘Game over’ is the agreed upon sign for caught spies.

Price and Gaz have brought out their maps, attempting to lock down the warehouse’s location. Soap and Ghost were gently shooed away after it became obvious they don’t have any more useful intel to provide.

“How’s your neck?” Ghost asks him, the two of them leaning against a crumbling wall.

Soap opens his mouth to answer, when gloved fingers brush over the bruised skin on his throat. “I uh…” he swallows, the hand following the movement, “I feel fine.”

Ghost hums, caressing the wound for a moment longer before pulling away. Soap wants to chase the touch.

He really is in over his head, isn’t he?

“Simon.” Soap looks up at the bright skull mask, “have you thought about… what are ye gonna do after?”

“...no.”

“...Would ye go back? To what you did before?”

Simon stares at him deeply, eyes closing, “I don’t think I can.” he looks back at Soap, “you? What did you do before?”

Soap chuckles bitterly, “ah, I was spendin’ my newly civvi life indulging in only the greatest of pleasures. Like sittin’ in an office for nine hours a day, or knittin’ a scarf on my therapist’s orders.”

Simon’s shoulders shake with a badly hidden laugh, “I’d like to see you knit.”

Soap grins, “oh I was a natural. It definitely didn’t have several holes by the time I was done.” 

“How did you get here, then?” Simon asks, mirth still creasing his eyes.

His smile drops, words dying on his tongue, “I uh…” that weeks-old shame starts creeping back in, “was about to be evicted. Got fired, bastards never liked me anyway. I jus’ took all of my money and… ran as far as I could.”

Simon hums, shoulder leaning in to nudge his. Soap thinks the conversation is over after a few moments of silence, the both of them mauling over the words, when Simon surprises him.

“Think I’d like that… running away.” he murmurs.

“Aye? Where would ye go?”

“Don’t know. Don’t think it matters.” Simon leans in closer, their foreheads almost touching, “as long as the company is good.”

Soap feels a shiver go down his spine, eyes wide as he tries to find the joke that must be in Simon’s.

But he looks so painfully sincere, even when he finally leans away, “too bad there’s none ‘ere. Might ask Laswell if she got any tips on finding partners in crime.”

Soap lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, “think they make dating apps for fuckers like ye?”

“Doubt I’ll find anyone as mental as you on Tinder, Johnny.” Simon deadpans.

“That’s because yer looking in the wrong place - Christian Mingle is where the real crazy bastards are.”

Simon can’t hold in his laugh this time, and for the first time Soap hears the way he snorts a little when his giggles become uncontrollable. It’s a horribly endearing sound, one that he wants to hear for every day for the rest of his life.

It makes his heart hurt, heavy, sinking in his chest like a death sentence.

Gaz was right.

He’s in love with Simon Riley.

Gaz went back to get the vehicle he and Price infiled with. It had a laptop, a few maps, and the most wonderful MREs Soap ever had. He never thought he’d miss that shite, but after running on a handful of oranges and a possibly moldy sandwich, they tasted like heaven on earth.

As he and Ghost had their meal (Simon’s eyes sparkled in a way that told Soap he was clearly as delighted with the food as he was), the 141 finalized their plan with Laswell. Soap could see them arguing about something, but he was far too preoccupied with eating to care at the moment.

Ghost, however, did care, “need anything, Price?”

The Captain snaps his head up, taking off his hat and scratching at his hair, “we have an angle to breach, but…”

Gaz joins in, “We don’t have intel on how many guards are posted, their location… mission will be doomed from the start if we just go in guns blazing.”

“Why not do some recon, then?” Soap wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “we’re all trained for that.”

“Too risky, the warehouse is exposed, and the Hunter won’t leave any obvious gaps in security if they’re worth their salt.” Price grunts.

Ghost gets up, walking over to the maps spread on the truck’s hood, “then we break in.”

Soap smirks at the assurance in his voice, “and that’s why I love the Ghost.”

He instantly catches the knowing expression on Gaz’s face, as well as Simon stiffening beside him. Soap curses himself mentally, feeling his face heat up in shame. He prays for any god that might listen, that Ghost didn’t take it as seriously as the truth is.

Thankfully, Price saves him from blurting out some more recently-discovered-emotions, “no other way but through, eh Simon? What do you have in mind?”

Ghost scans the maps of the warehouse Laswell has sent over, “The Hunter doesn’t know we’re working together, if they’re expecting an attack they would only expect two people - me and Johnny.” his eyes flicker to Soap’s for a brief moment, “if we split up, the 141 could take them by surprise.”

“You said they’re after you and John, Simon. If they catch you, we might not be able to help.” Price says grimly.

Ghost sighs, looking away frustrated. His head turns to face Soap, eyes calculating, “...what if they don’t know it’s us?”

“What?” Price asks.

Ghost continues, eyes still staring deeply into his, “Johnny can easily disguise himself, he’s done so before. All he needs is to cover up his face and hair.”

The Captain nods to Ghost, “and what about you, son? Everyone knows your mask.”

“But no one knows his face.” Soap answers, understanding washing over him, “but Simon-”

“I can’t be Ghost if we want to finish this.” Simon brushes fingers over the bone-white teeth of the skull mask, hand tightening into a fist.

Gaz nods slowly, “and we can’t be the 141.” he sends a meaningful look to the Captain, “this operation has to be kept secret. If the SAS learns we collaborated with the Ghost…”

“Then we won’t be.” Price walks to the back of the truck, pulling out 3 black balaclavas and throwing them to Soap and Gaz.

Price begins explaining their plan, “Laswell has gathered up a few blueprints of the Konservy warehouse. There are several key points that appear to be far too open for us to breach, all except one - the offloading garage. We’ll split into two teams, me and Gaz will take the offices and CCTV rooms, clearing the way for Soap and Ghost to infiltrate the main machinery room.”

“Our plan depends on each team watching the other’s six, we’ll have to keep comms up.” Gaz adds.

“Once the first team takes over the CCTV room, we will be able to locate the Hunter. The faster we do this, the less likely reinforcements will arrive.” Price hands Soap and Ghost a radio.

“Do we know where they keep their vehicles?” Soap asks while fitting the comms over his clothes.

“Yeah, should be around where we first enter. Why?” Gaz raises a brow towards him.

A wicked smile spreads on Soap’s lips, “might be able to set up a little surprise for any newcomers.”

Ghost chuckles darkly, “always ready to craft a trap, aren’t you, Johnny?”

“Never failed me before, Simon.”

“You can take a look at our supplies, take whatever you need.” Price looks over each of them, “any questions?”

Soap flexes his hands, adrenaline thrumming a familiar song through his veins, anger painting his vision red, “what are we waiting for?”

[cerise-on-top]

Hiiii :3 and could you do Kate laswell and könig with a reader who loved cuddles?

Hey there! Sure I can! But I don't write Laswell as very cuddly! But I made König's a bit longer to try and make up for it, hope that's alright!

Laswell and König with a Cuddly!Reader

Laswell: If you love cuddles then she’s the wrong person to ask for some, sorry. Sometimes she doesn’t mind them, sometimes she absolutely hates being touched. It’s very rare for her to initiate anything more than just a kiss to your cheek or a hand on your back for a short amount of time. Laswell genuinely is not a cuddly person, at all. Sometimes, on a good day, she might oblige if you ask her to. However, even then your cuddle sessions won’t be too long. And if I were you then I wouldn’t force her to cuddle you either, she’ll get snappy if you do. Your relationship is built on mutual trust and respect. You’re violating her boundaries if you force her to cuddle. Sorry, but that’s just how I’ve been writing her.

König: He’s not too fond of cuddles either, but he makes exceptions for his S/O. If you’re his S/O, that’s great! You can ask him for some cuddles and he’ll only very rarely say no to you. It’s usually when he’s busy that he’ll say no, but any other time? He’s free game. Again, you’re the only person he’s somewhat cuddly with. However, unlike Laswell, he sometimes will ask you for some cuddles himself. Sometimes even the big guy needs to hold someone, or even be held. I’ve said it before, but if you’re roughly the same size as him, or even taller than him, then he might hint at wanting to be held from time to time as well. But other than that, he’ll humor you. You can cuddle in any position you want, but he refuses to lie down on top of you. Even when you’re the same size as him, he won’t do it. König is aware he’s a very heavy lad, so he really doesn’t want to crush you. But if you wanna lie on top of him, then you can go right ahead, he really doesn’t mind. In those cases he actually quite likes it when you’re shorter than he is, because in that case you can lie on top of him in your entirety. He’ll wrap his arms around you, sometimes he’ll kiss the top of your head as well. Spooning with him is pretty nice. He’s a strong guy, and a warm one at that as well. Don’t ask him to cuddle you in summer, though, as he gets sweaty fairly easily and doesn’t want to gross you out. Besides, he also doesn’t want to sweat bullets just because you’re clinging to him. But you’re more than welcome to just plop down in his lap during any other season and nuzzle into him. He’ll call you “meine kleine Schmusekatze” or, if you’re being especially clingy, “mein kleines Schmusebärchen”. I think that eventually, when he comes home from an especially rough mission, he actually kind of looks forward to holding you. It’s not that unlikely that you might get hurt because of him, so it’s nice to get to hold you and make sure you’re safe within his arms. Sometimes, while you’re cuddling, he’ll tease you by speaking his dialect. He’s saying no mean things, though. It’s either how cute you are, how you can’t understand him, or just some random things he thought of at the moment. Even if you know German he’ll lay his dialect on extra thick so you can’t actually understand him.

[drbatsponge]

Gotham War spoilers yet again confirm to me that Zdarsky does not give a shit about the women in Bruce's life other than Selina.

[brynnmclean]

saw a post questioning shipping Senua and Thórgestr and started to reblog it with a tag novel-- felt weird about doing that since this is lengthy and potentially derailing, so making my own post instead. Spitballing under the cut:

First off, any time someone is like, "the real reason people ship this is because they find the dude attractive," this is SO funny to me as someone who doesn't find men attractive IRL and has fiercely loved Senua since I played the first game, like-- actually I find the dynamic between those two characters to be compelling and interesting precisely because of all the baggage between them re: their backgrounds, the rough (put mildly!) beginning of their relationship, all the things they don't talk about, and them finding a common enemy/common ground to work with. The explicit parallels between them stated in-game scratched an itch in my brain. The minute they pointed out the dark rot on his arm, it was like, "oh! hello there! NOW I'm interested in whatever your whole deal is" for me. Also, idk man, I too would follow Senua around after she knocked me into the dirt and then showed me a way to fight the giants that I very much wanted to fight instead of appease.

The idea that Thórgestr was part of the Orkney Raid that killed and mutilated Dillion is VERY interesting food for thought, even if I don't personally have that headcanon (surely there are more viking raiding groups than just the Bjorg). I think the Furies or the Shadow said something similar about Fargrimr (his kin murdered yours, you shouldn't save him, etc.) so I completely get that line of thought, but I think the game left it ambiguous enough that it's up for interpretation. Would I read fic with that premise? Yeah, I'd check that out. Could Senua forgive Thorgestr if his people were involved? Sounds fun to explore.

If (ha, when?) I write fic, I'd have to think more about it especially wrt timelines, like when did the Bjorg start specifically raiding for slaves for giant food sacrifices vs. killing people for resources and wealth? How far off are we from the old gods "dying" and the volcano erupting? Was it indeed a different group of raiders who made a deal with Zynbel, attacked Senua's home, and made the sacrifice at that time to Hela?

At the very least, I think there's a time jump between the end of Hellblade I and the beginning of Hellblade II since Senua wasn't alone on that slave ship and at least one of the (brief) survivors knew her by name. I wouldn't mind exploring that gap of time, too.

In any case I do agree that it would take a VERY long time for Senua to consciously catch feelings for anyone let alone Thorgestr with all their collective baggage. The idea of them having a relationship beyond friendship in the far off future of an AU where he survives is the only one that can make sense in my brain, personally. It would take time! Time they didn't get in the game! But I think there are a lot of different roads that could take, and some of them might be healthier than others. Shipping them certainly isn't forgetting or excusing what happened to Dillion-- or even mutually exclusive from still shipping Senua and Dillion. Or, frankly, also shipping Senua and Astridr, because I can see that ship too.

One of the nice things about all the details Ninja Theory didn't expand upon and that they left that ending so open is that the sky's the limit. I'm VERY interested in seeing fandom tackle this game as we get farther from the initial release.

[spaceorphan18]

Chapters: 3/11 Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Not really Anthony and Penelope, Not really Colin and Kate Characters: Penelope Featherington, Colin Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton, Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Eloise Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, small cameo from, Simon Basset Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Humor, Romance, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Wrong Partner - Partner Switch, Borderline crack, It's fun and light - don't take it too seriously, blind dates Summary:

Eloise Bridgerton just wants her brother, Anthony, to be happy, so she sets him up on a blind date with her best friend, Penelope Featherington. Penelope, in turn, doesn't want to go alone, so she brings her roommate, Kate Sharma, for Eloise's other brother - Colin. It's a double blind date, and they all start to realize maybe they're on a date with the wrong person.

Chapter 3 is up!! 

Thank you to @darriness for being my lovely Kanthany consultant to help me with Kate and Anthony! I do appreciate it <3 

Thanks for reading!! :)