#one of my favourite pastimes is talking about my writing instead of actually writing and it shows | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eternalguk · 8 months ago

Text

Losers || jjk. (M)

I get lonely when you're not here, and this darkness appears, leaving me stranded.

↠ Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader

↠ Summary : Jeon Jeongguk. Your brother's best friend, your mom's favourite human, and the man who is saved as, the certified asshole, on your phone. With black hair and piercings, tattoos and skinny jeans… Jeongguk has been your worst nightmare since you were 18. Six years later, getting along with him is still impossible. The only difference? His pastime then was to steal your diary and read it aloud. Now? Well… let’s just say, it’s most definitely not the same.

↠ Genre : pwp, brothers best friend au, age gap au, fuck buddies au (angst, fluff & smut)

↠ Warnings : explicit sexual content, swearing, bickering but they’re actually flirting, teasing (a lot of it), making out, grinding, dirty talk, degradation, breast play, unprotected sex (be safe), kinda dom!jungkook, power bottom!jungkook, riding, begging, creampie, mentions of oral sex, mentions of one-sided feelings and i think that’s all.

↠ Word count : 1.6k

↠ A/n : hello <3 here’s a little something that i put together when I was bored! I hope you enjoy brothers best friend!Jungkook as much as I did whilst writing. Your feedback will be appreciated 🤍. Happy reading 🦢

↠ Song : meddle about - Chase Atlantic.

You’re full. So damn full.

Jungkook’s thick and imposing cock is nestled inside you, the delicious stretch causing both of you to unleash the most desperate sounds.

“Ride me,” Jungkook’s voice is husky, and very evidently quivering with lust and need.

You gulp, licking your swollen lips before lifting yourself up and lowering yourself inch by inch, until he’s all the way inside again. The pressure between your legs is unbearable, body craving relief.

“Fuck,” Jungkook grunts, his fingers boring into your hips. “So greedy for my dick.”

And the taunting is back…

You roll your eyes, lifting yourself up again and slamming down so hard that you both groan. “And who was begging me to ride their dick?”

Jungkook whispers a string of curses, before thrusting himself upwards. “A-and who… who was begging me to have sex with them in the first place?”

You.

The answer was you, and you couldn’t even try to defend yourself.

Your brother had finally left the house, and in other words, you and Jungkook were finally able to fuck.

So here you were, in the living room, relentlessly riding your brother’s best friend.

Now, you weren’t that bad. Yes, you had made the first move, but Jungkook was no innocent bystander. Your thoughts linger back to where the shenanigans began.

“Hey princess,” Jungkook smirks as he saunters into the living room, interrupting your peaceful evening. “Missed me?”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at the sight of him. “Not even a little bit, asshole.”

“Stop lying,” he sings as he reaches over to take a chocolate covered strawberry from your plate. “I know you did.”

You remain silent, hoping he gets the cue and leaves. You don’t forget to mentally curse your brother for leaving you with this man-child.

Jungkook chuckles and you already sense a foolish comment about to leave his lips. “I know you love me, Y/N.”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “In your dreams, Jungkook. Your dick? Maybe. You? Never.”

He moves to take a seat on the couch adjacent to you, his gaze lingering a little too long. “You look cute when you're angry.”

You flush, hating how easily he gets under your skin. “Shut up, let me read.”

But instead of retorting, Jungkook leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Make me.”

You swallow hard, feeling a rush of heat between your thighs. "You wish."

His lips quirk into a smirk as he leans back, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Maybe I do.”

You grit your teeth, resisting the urge to kiss him. Why did he have to be so damn infuriatingly attractive?

As the evening wears on, your banter escalated into a full-blown war of words, each insult laced with underlying tension. But beneath the surface, there's something else brewing—a desire that neither of you wants to acknowledge.

The three previous altercations between you and Jungkook had led to sex… there’s no way you were going to let that happen again.

“I’ll just go keep myself busy with Areum. You know your really pretty friend? She’s been begging me to come over.” Jungkook grins mischievously, knowing he's finally pushed you to your limit.

But instead of storming off in a huff like usual, you surprise him by closing the distance between you, lips crashing against his in a heated kiss.

He responds eagerly, his hands tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss, your bodies pressed together in a frenzy of need.

“Fuck, you drive me crazy,” Jungkook murmurs against your lips, his voice husky with desire.

You smirk, trailing my fingers down his chest. “You love it.”

He groans, his grip tightening on you as he whispers, “I’d be a liar if I said no.”

And that was what had brought you to your current state. You begin to ride Jungkook in a fast, unrestrained pace, leaning forward so your clit can brush against his pubic bone, deepening your own pleasure.

“So big, Jungkook.. So deep,” you moan gratifyingly, throwing your head back as you relish in this complete heaven.

Jungkook smirks whilst watching you fuck yourself on his cock, pleasure vividly overtaking you as you roll your eyes with each bounce. “Good girl, ride my cock just like that.”

“J-Jungkook,” you whine faintly, his hands forcing you down completely and making you go faster. His low grunts and growls of your name make you warm up more, adoring the pleasurable sounds he makes. Your eyes meet his and you heat up as he gazes at you with lust stained eyes.

“Feels good?” Jungkook asks, helping you bounce on his dick. He looks extremely sexy right now with swollen lips, tanned skin and messy, tousled hair.

The sound of heavy breathing and the way his cock easily slides in and out of you reminds you just how blissful it is to be intimate with Jungkook. It was a shame you couldn’t call him yours.

“Mhm,” you inform him, slowly riding his dick up and down, your cunt swallowing his thick girth with ease and allowing yourself to be distracted from mellow thoughts. Jungkook thrusts up and you gasp at the sudden action, whining his name louder.

Jungkook scoffs at your reaction, smirking as his hands come to rest at your hips. You notice his lust filled eyes and it urges you to ride him faster.

“Going to miss this pussy when I leave,” Jungkook grunts, his deep, throaty voice making your heart race faster.

You ignore the ache that settles in your heart at the thought of him leaving.

“Mhm.” You respond, too overwhelmed by the feeling of Jungkook’s cock deep inside.

Jungkook’s lips brush over your clavicles whilst his hands slide up and down your back, eventually stopping on your ass, grabbing it to help you ride him. Your hips rock back and forth at a steady speed, relishing in the current moment.

“Ohh fuckk,” you cry out, savouring each drag of his monstrous cock. Your hips continue to rock back and forth and Jungkook simply wishes you both were on a mattress right now so he could pound into you hard and fast. You feel the way he contains himself from thrusting upwards, knowing very well that he’ll lose control.

The mere sight of you in the throes of pleasure, throwing your head back and lustily moaning has Jungkook weak. Your partly lidded eyes, flaming skin and heaving chest tells Jungkook all that he needs to know. You look alluringly beautiful, using Jungkook’s body to catch your release.

“Always ride me so fucking well, baby.” Jungkook rasps, lips moving to wrap around your nipples and sucking on them vigorously. He fondles with the other, neglected breast, pinching at your nipple and your whines only heighten.

“You look so sexy and you’re all mine,” he growls, his hips moving to thrust up against yours. His throaty voice impels you to shiver, dominance and possessiveness lacing it. “No one else can have this.”

“All y-yours, baby,” you croon, your walls tightening and clenching as his low grunts and moans turn you on. “There’s no one who’ll make me feel like this.”

And that’s true. You have no clue if you’ll ever stop craving Jungkook. The idea of him fucking someone else, paired with the idea of someone else fucking you, leave a distaste in your mouth.

“I’m close, Kook,” you whine whilst reaching for his veiny hands to rub against your palpitating clit. Jungkook understands the message, instantly moving his hand to thumb against it. He circles his finger around the bud and you helplessly mewl, aching to come.

You pull on Jungkook’s tresses as your hips begin to stutter in their grinding. “Such a good girl for me, always so good.” He encourages you and that simple sentence is all you need as your pussy clenches and slick cum squirts out of you.

“Just like that, baby girl. Just like that,” Jungkook harshly breathes, painting your insides with his seed. He lifts his hips, fucking into you through your orgasms. You moan loudly before falling against his chest, pressing firm kisses against his sweaty neck.

“I love it when you come inside me,” you purr, sucking deep, purple marks into his skin. Another thing that should not be happening. Looking after a baby, Jungkook’s baby to specify, was not something you imagine yourself doing anytime soon.

A husky moan escapes from Jungkook as he pulls your face towards his, pressing a searing kiss onto your rosy lips. He kisses you with love, purpose and sincerity. The third thing that should not be happening right now.

You shiver at the feeling of his cock being nestled inside your wet, warm walls. Jungkook’s hands move to your ass, gently grinding you against him. You pull back and are met with a sly grin on your temptations face.

Temptation was the word your mind had settled with. Is that what he was?

“Again?” He cockily mutters, moving forward to rub his nose against yours.

“Well, why not?,” is all you whisper back before pressing your lips against his, swallowing his giggles as you push him to lean against his seat, ready to be destroyed all over again.

Jungkook’s fingers are lost in your hair, and his other hand rests against your waist, gently caressing your exposed skin.

You think back to days upon days with him, starting with a simple kiss to now fucking at every chance you get.

You dwell on your feelings for the man in front of you. Who would’ve thought that the Jungkook you passionately hated would be the one who’s on your mind constantly? The one who’s name comes to mind first thing in the morning. The one who’s worth every risk and battle.

Maybe you could tell him, whisper your fondness for him in his ear, but you don’t.

Instead, you snuggle into his warmth, hoping it’ll satiate your aching heart for now.

And there we go. I hope you enjoyed! Feedback and comments are always appreciated ; it really makes me feel better about what I write so please do tell me what you think of this if it is not too much of a hassle <3

Until next time,

🤍

#jungkook smut #bts fics #bts smut #jungkook fics #jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #bts angst #jungkook x y/n #kpop smut #bts fluff #fic: losers

735 notes · View notes

teatimeatwinterpalace · 9 months ago

Note

Like it or not, the one who saved and modernized the monarchy was King George V, not king Edward VII, and this is an undisputed fact that all historians would agree with. After all, It was during the reign of King George V that 13 European Monarchies crumbled to the ground while the british monarchy survived. And it survived because of George V, because of his leadership, his modern statesmanship, his will to embrace and encourage changes, his popularity and the respect that his nation had for him, while he led his country to victory during WW1. He was the FIRST Monarch that brought monarchy close to people, hence why he was nicknamed the People's Monarch or the Citizen Monarch. George reigned during the most difficult times in the history of monarchy and of mankind, but he managed to save his monarchy and to modernize it, setting the path for a Constitutional Modern Monarch*. Your bias cannot change it, because facts dont give a damn about your opinions. A pity that you cannot uplift Edward VII without bringing George down. George wasnt dull, he was quite the character. He was genuine, funny, reproachable, a lover of books and cinema, and most importantly he was a SERIOUS LEADER, who acted exactly as a modern head of state is suppsed to act. Oh and he was a FAITHFUL Husband, he was devoted to his wife and loyal to her throughout their entire marriage. Something that can never be said of Edward VII who was unfaithful and over-indulgent in everything ( Im sure his mistresses would have preferred Handsome George though). If being faithful and family-oriented makes a man dull, than give me dull everyday. Queen Alexandra would've been happy to have married a man like George who never embarrassed and humiliated his wife

Oh my, where does this come from? lmao. Tbh, I deserve this kind of message when it's about Wilhelm. I'm totally biased regarding this rascally young fop (Alexander III said it first!). Badmouthing him is one of my favourite pastime. But George, come on! I never been too harsh with him? EXCEPT, perhaps, when it comes down to the Romanovs, but what can I say? When you don't have a backbone, you really don't…

Yet, I'm a tad puzzled by your message because we are talking about George V right? The one who in April 1905 hadn't seen his children for three months. The one who used to shout at his second son "Get it out" when the poor soul was suffering from stammer. The one who in 1917, while on a stroll in the grounds of Sandringham complained to Nora Wigram that his children always avoided him. Nora retelling this story in one of her letters to her parents said how Mary, David and Bertie became "quite cheerful & entirely flippant, writing their names in the snow" when George and Mary had gone home on said stroll. However, do you know who was ACTUALLY a good father? his cousin *whispering* Nicky.

Faithful yes but let me remind you that their marriage was far from smooth sailing. They lived seperately for months on end. You also must have forgotten the countless letters from George trying to apologise for shutting down, being rude or cold towards May. + May's letters complaining on how he would shut her out. The man was unable to articulate his feelings which led to endless misunderstanding. May who once wrote to George while in Paris : "I quite understand about yr not wishing to come to Paris & am not angry, I only thought it wd be nice change as I find life in general very dull- unless one has a change sometimes." She had wanted him to join her but had received a rebuff instead. May who wrote to his brother in 1900 while she was stuck in the gloomy York Cottage: "It is so dull here & I feel very low & depressed tho' Im pretty well on the whole" (alright she was pregnant at that time, but guess where George was?… out shooting birds).

Led his country to victory during WW1? Hmmm, you really mean George V who was described in 1918 by the Viscount Esher in those terms: "he seems virtually a recluse, steadily devoting himself to good purposes and little works of a good kind, but with not conspicuousness, no assertiveness of the King's position." / "making himself a nonentity" ? While May wrote on 19 november 1916 to her son David about the hospital visits: "They are "assomant" (tiresome) & I dislike them more than words can describe!" and then proceeded to explain how much she enjoyed her shopping trips at Goode's.

I'm teasing because OF COURSE I think George V was a good ruler and perhaps he was the kind of ruler the country needed at that time. He was a great arbitrator and was able to adapt and change despite having conservative views and being very much uneducated. How he dealt with the Irish question is a stellar example! He was an ordinary man who disliked society and suffered from bouts of depression. There is a sentence that struck me in Ridley's book which in my opinion sums up George : "He was a man of disconnected feelings".

I could write PAGES about Bertie's shortcomings and how his shenanigans damaged the monarchy. Yet he was a gifted ruler, very much in tune with his time.

So I guess anon, it comes down to... preference. If you are more into shooting birds and collecting stamps, you do you! I, on the contrary, have a soft spot for cosmopolitan kings with a string of scandals.

Now if you'd excuse me, I'm off painting the town red with Bertie!

#don’t come after me #with those rose-colored glasses #i'll show you the receips #and give you a reality check 😗#i do hope #this anon is a troll #because you can't go about life #being so short-sighted #& i'm sorry but #not even ridley's EXCELLENT bio on george #could change my mind #georgie was a dull man #actually my last words will be #le roi est mort vive la république #because there is no way #i'm starting a debate on which king saved the monarchy #*even though Bertie did hehe*

29 notes · View notes

drbased · 4 months ago

Note

You’re highkey one of the cleverest people on tumblr. I always enjoy reading your posts, and I’m always inevitably thinking the same thing : “damn she is smart!” Can I ask you if you did hight studies (as after high school) , and if so, which ones ? Or you just read a lot ? I’m just really curious, I hope it doesn’t sound intrusive

Thank you for this, I don't know if it's just a coincidence you've sent this now or if you've sent this after seeing my vent post - if it's the latter I really appreciate it. I mean I appreciate it regardless but you know what I mean.

I studied computer science at university level but that's not been very relevant to my thinking.

I don't read much unfortunately. I just think. I think think think think think. I have a great density of thoughts and frankly I don't have much control over them. Something happens to me and it brings about an emotion and my head launches into this chatter and it doesn't stop. Literally today I saw a post describing a theory of autism: 'intense world theory' and whilst I'm still not diagnosed so much of it sounds exactly like what I'm going through. It's honestly quite exhausting and overwhelming to be me, I often feel as if my mind isn't really quite my own, I have enough emotions and thoughts in here for at least two people.

It wasn't until that time when I hotboxed a room and actually talked to myself that I started to get a real handle on what's going on inside my head. Plus in reference to the 'vent post', I got really good at explaining because part of the nightmare was explaining the same things over and over again like a broken record. And the more I explained, the more I tried to explain, the more I discovered that nothing is out of the bounds of explanation. I learned how to use the english language all over again. And I had a looooot of practice saying out loud all the wisdom stuff and radical feminist stuff, so eventually with a bit of trust in myself I was able to start writing it down.

All of this was accomplished by listening in to the chatter in my head and instead of getting anxious at my emotional responses, to actually take them seriously. Whenever I have a thought about something I now trust it and take it seriously - and I seriously urge every woman to do the same. Every time you find yourself starting down a train of thought and then go 'nah, that's ridiculous' I urge you to humour yourself instead. Every single flight of fancy you have has an underlying worldview that is valuable because it came from you - even if you come to the conclusion at the end that you were wrong, by taking it serious you've learned something. There's no such thing as a stupid question, so the saying goes. And that's so fucking true. Nothing - and I MEAN nothing - you think or feel is vapid. All of it came from a brain, and you're safe to trust it, even if it turns out to be wrong. The brain is your safe space to engage with ideas - it's YOU, and you're always free to trust YOU.

I love connecting gaps, I especially being able to connect supposedly contradictory beliefs that people have and find the root value system. I like analysing, it's both my favourite pastime and also makes me feel very grounded and safe in the world. I used to pathologise this as 'overanalysing due to trauma' and since I stopped doing that and started to embrace who I actually am, I've been able to actually enjoy this analysing, even if it's 'unhealthy'. I used to get trapped in these thought loops that wouldn't go away for years; now I can get really quickly to what I'm feeling and why. I'm gradually rebuilding trust in myself after a decade of feeling obligated to do everything 'right'. I don't even judge that part of me - she valued getting things right, and that's a beautiful thing. But it hurt me and destroyed my trust in myself, so I won't do it anymore. That's all the 'logic' I need. What was once destroying me - my own brain - I've turned right back around into my greatest asset, all through the power of taking myself seriously. I think anyone can do this; I just have that density of thoughts and deep discomfort with cognitive dissonance and a pathological need to be consistent in everything - my logic, behaviour, even emotions - that drove me down a really dark path where I was suffering emotionally all the time and had to do something to feel better. Weed was instrumental in giving myself the confidence to do all this. It allowed me to really listen in on what I was feeling, and by the end I was entirely using it medicinally. Some of my earliest writings on here were done whilst high - the heightened sense of self-awareness it gave me allowed me to recognise what I felt comfortable writing, when I was actually done writing instead of just losing confidence, what tone I wanted to use, if I wanted to use a tone at all, if I felt it was flowing - basically just all of these hyper-specific things about who I am and how I want to create and express myself that I had entirely buried because I felt driven by obligation into providing the best 'product' possible. Hell, if it wasn't for weed I wouldn't be typing here at all; I probably would still not have written anything because I'd be saving myself for writing a book which I now know I basically have no intention to write. My heightened sense of self-awareness used to fill me with so much terror instead now it's my biggest source of self-love. I don't care if it's not 'healthy' or comes from a place of trauma; it's who I am now, and pathologising myself hurt me so, so deeply and I will never ever ever do that again. I'm an inpenetrable shield of thought now; I can hurt myself more than anyone else can and that's actually a strength of mine and not a weakness. I went through a lifetime of terror around people and what emotions they can induce in me and I'm not afraid anymore.

Anyway thank you for this opportunity to indulge myself because I've just had an incredibly harrowing and heart-breaking interaction with someone and I'm sleep deprived and have a horrible headache and my shoulders ache and frankly I feel very much at the end of my tether with this world. The fact that I can communicate like this is really the only thing keeping me going; it's literally saving my life. I always 'needed' to be understood, so much so that I was afraid of saying things that people might not understand - and since I flipped my attitude I decided that if I need to be understood then I bloody well need to act like it and show I'm willing to risk not being understood sometimes for the end goal of achieving that. Turning avoidance into success, showing myself what real self-love actually looks like. I used to think self-love was wrapping myself in bubble wrap and never challenging myself or risking anything but it's the opposite - it's about showing yourself how much you value something by showing yourself how much you'd risk for it. And I decided I wanted to value my personhood, so I tried a bunch of completely mental stuff that I made up entirely on the spot whilst high and risked scrambling up my brain and now I've changed my entire life around. And other people have extraordinarily resonated with what I've said and have said how good I am at explaining stuff. So I'm now living in the real world and that congealed mass of thoughts are now out there, for other people to read and hear.

Anyway I'm probably going to cry now and get myself some cake. I've been through hell the past several years and it has been thankless and miserable. I'm just so grateful that I'm my own best friend now.

#anon #wisdom posting #sorta #seriously if we lived in a sane world where women weren't hated I'd love to show my face and voice and do videos #I've learned so much and I love talking about it more than writing

9 notes · View notes

retquits · 3 years ago

Note

Hi!!! So I’m not sure if you’ve talked about this before since I just found your Stardew artwork recently, but I absolutely adore Dallas, Galeo, and Declan and so I was wondering if we could hear more about them- what their life was like pre-farm, likes, dislikes, how they met their spouses etc. I just love your art and your farmers and it’s all so pretty and makes me so happy and so I’d love to hear more of you’re willing to rant about it!! No pressure if you’re busy of course but I just wanted to ask! <3<3 Thanks so much!

AUHDGDFGDFGJH 🥺💘💘💘

nothin would make me happier than to ramble about ocs - i'll try not to make this super long!! thank you!!! 😭

first of all, a quick introduction ...

(👇 continued under the cut!! 👇)

before moving out to the farm, dallas scraped by in the city through odd jobs and shitty apartments. he's the spontaneous type, so as soon as he finally took the time to realize he was unhappy, he packed his belongings, grabbed his grandpa’s deed, and bounced B)

galeo's life pre-farm was actually ... on another farm LOL they helped with their family's ranch for most of their life! with some nudges from mom and dad, though, they took up the deed to their grandfather's old land to strike out on their own.

declan lived on the city outskirts his entire life with his twin sister, lynn, their older brother amos, and their grandmother! both declan and lynn initially visited pelican town to prepare their grandfather's land to sell ... but ended up staying 💕

LIKES AND DISLIKES:

dallas: likes loud music, good company, and anything a little edgy. one of his favourite pastimes is hair-dye night with abigail, sam, and sebastian, and his favourite 'crops' are void eggs and hot peppers! he isn’t so wild about retail, leafy greens, or bugs.

galeo: likes shiny things - pretty rocks, fish, rocks ... rocks. galeo spends a LOT of their time mining the caves, and their favourite crops are blue jazz and sweet gem berries! they have a fear of ghosts, and dislike dry, hot weather, spicy food, and eating alone.

declan: loves vintage media; old film, records, train tickets, etc. he particularly prefers warm sunny days with big fluffy clouds, and his favourite crops are cranberries and sunflowers. he’s not a huge fan of big animals, large bodies of water, winter, or rainy days when he’s cooped up inside.

dallas and elliot

long story short, elliott met dallas on a warm, rainy day. he was having a particularly hard time writing that week, and stormed out to stand in the rain and re-center himself. when he stepped outside his cabin, he saw someone on the dock, struggling over a bent fishing rod - and afraid that it was willy about to fall in, he raced out to support him, slipped on the wet dock, and splashed face-first into the water.

needless to say, dallas had a big laugh as he helped elliott out of the water LMAO and the two had their first real conversation after!! dallas's personality is pretty close to the polar opposite of elliott's, so the they had plenty to learn about each other. dallas, elliott discovers, is incredibly funny and doesn't like to over complicate things. and elliott, as dallas discovers, is a dreamer and kinda unlike anyone he's ever met before. they walked away from their first conversation already looking forward to their next :)

galeo and sam

their meeting has a lot less substance bc it was my first playthrough and i never gave it much thought LOL but it was definitely abigail who introduced galeo to sam!! (abigail is fluent in ASL and teaches seb and sam in their free time)

declan and alex

declan and alex met a long while before they really started chatting. neither took a particular interest in the other, so it wasn’t until alex noticed declan hanging around his dog that they found something to talk about. it went something along the lines of alex making the passing comment, “his name’s dusty. you got a dog, farm guy?”

note: declan's 'dog' banjo was probably a coyote who wandered onto the farm to take a look at declan’s chickens. alex didn't know how to tell him, so instead, he decided to spend a lot of time with declan to make sure he didn't get hurt. this was a mistake bc they fell in love 🤷‍♂️

UM .. THIS GOT LONG IM SO SORRY 💦 thank you so much for giving me the chance to talk about my ocs!! i wish i wrote about them more often but i get shy LOL

#answers #moomkin77 #stardew valley #someone recently sent an ask about farmer rufus too!!#he's up next! 🥰#ocs #farmer dallas #farmer galeo #farmer declan #sdv farmer

642 notes · View notes

freindly-neighbourhood-anarchist · 4 years ago

Text

☀︎︎-: 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 :-☀︎︎

Kimetsu no yaiba x reader

°•.《 characters 》.•°

Rengoku, Giyuu, Shinobu, Sanemi

Tw: Swearing because Sanemi is Sanemi

____________________________________________

I'm definitely gonna binge write this series after watching the movie, I literally cant stop thinking about it--

Send in as much requests as you want!! :))

I do fluff, different AU's, angst and NSFW(we'll see).

Keep in mind, I havent read the manga. I'm caught up to the train Arc and that's it, so try not to spoil anything by requesting characters that havent appeared yet lol

« `` •"𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞~"• ´´ »

☼︎ ☀︎︎ʀᴇɴɢᴏᴋᴜ ᴋʏᴏᴜᴊᴜʀᴏᴜ☀︎︎ ☼︎

Holding hands is sort of a need for him-

He's huge with PDA and holding your small hand within his reassures him quite a bit. He never needs to ask to hold your hand, he just grips it whenever and wherever.

I feel like he'll sense when your nervous and be really perceptive, so he'd hold your hand to ground you in a way

It's highly effectve.

"Delicious!" Your energetic boyfriend chirped, eating his takoyaki with fervour and a bright smile.

You ate your own food from across him, shaking your head a little with a slight smile slanting onto your lips.

It's definitely been a long day, so winding down and eating with your amazing boyfriend is definitely a preferable way to end it.

He sort of sensed your stress as you came back from training, sweat sleek across your forehead. And thus, he ran a bath for you and then took you out for dinner to take your mind off of whatever was bothering you.

He's always had a keen intuition and was brilliant at reading emotions on others. It was a weird super power at this point. But he noticed how relaxed you were now that you were with him, it melted his heart.

His eyes flickered over your expression, his eyes soft with adoration and affection." This is certainly calming after a long day!" He exclaimed happily.

At his jolly aura, you nodded in agreement," Honestly... It's like you have some weird superpower to make me forget about whatever was annoying me. Kinda freaky." You shivered.

Letting out a hearty laugh, the man reached out, interlacing his long fingers with yours suddenly. The warmth of his skin sending goosebumps over your arms.

"I just know you too well! Nothing wrong or freaky about that!" His grin was filled with light.

Your fingers tightened around his, his warm skin seemed to be heating up your own body as well. Thank God, you were beginning to get cold anyways.

"Have I ever told you about how cute your hands are!" It was more of a statement than a question, pulling his hand and your hand closer to him so he could get a better glimpse at your soft hands." So tiny... So soft. It's like I'm being touched by an angel!"

"Geez, you're cheesy."

"You love it~!"

"... Fair point."

•«☔︎ 𝙜𝙞𝙮𝙪𝙪 𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙤𝙠𝙖 ☔︎»•

Bro I'm sorry, but I dont think he holds your hand much-

I feel like he thinks he doesnt need to show how much he loves you through actions, more so through blunt words.

But he will get the sudden urge to hold your hand every once in a while, so be prepared because he could get the jump on you at any point.

Doesnt like PDA that much, it makes him slightly uncomfortable because it's in public but I feel like he would get used to it later in your relationship.

Ocean-blue eyes stared at you hesitantly as you continued to speak about the new breathing technique you had learned.

Both you and Giyuu were walking peacefully through the garden you had grown over the years, the plants varying in different colours and sizes. They reminded him of you.

Your peaceful personality cued him to remember the petals of the flowers blowing gently in the breeze. Not to mention you smell very distinctly and sweet just like the flowers as well.

But as he walked with you in this haven, he felt pretty agitated and frustated. He hid it well with his usual deapan expressions, but he could feel the pit of the emotions growing bigger.

His hand twitched suddenly when the back of yours brushed against his, his cheeks tinting pink at the abrupt contact.

Gulping, he looked straight ahead with sharp eyes and a furrowed brow.

The atmosphere shifted.

And when you had stopped talking, he knew that you had noticed the harsh shift as well.

"Giyuu?... Are you feeling okay? You look like you're burning up." You questioned out of concern, a worried expression upon your face.

Shaking his head briefly, the ravenette continued to walk with his head staring straight ahead," I feel optimal. Why do you ask?" He was so obviously trying to change the subject.

You frowned a little at the stiff response and opened your mouth to respond but your boyfriend had beaten you to it.

"Let me h-... Hold your... Hand... Please." He uttered, looking down with red cheeks, an embarrassed scowl squirmed on his lips.

You were silent for a long while, making him wait nervously for your answer. What he wasn't expecting was the cute snort of laughter coming from you and grabbing his hand tightly within your own, your other hand wrapping around his forearm like it was a substitute teddy bear.

His cheeks heated up tenfold and he had to look away before you noticed.

"You're such a cutie. You don't need to ask to hold my hand you know?" You teased lightly, nudging him playfully by bumping your hip against his.

"I-it's embarrassing." He retorted.

"Whatever, cutie."

"No."

"Yes."

"Stop it."

꧁ꕥ 𝑲𝒐𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖 𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒖 ꕥ꧂

She would sooo tease you for wanting to hold her hand-

Like, she would hold it obvi, but she'd tease you about it for a good 5 minutes before finally giving up lol

Flustering you is one of her favourite pastimes, it was what your relationship was built on top of in the first place. Teasing eachother was always a thing you guys did.

But Kocho takes teasing to a MAXIMUM.

It's like you guys are challenging eachother to a tease off and she just refuses to loose. She'd rather die.

Dramatic but true

What a fucking queen-

"Ara, ara~ what was that? You want to hold my hand?" The raven haired woman pressed her hand against her lips, raising a suggestive eyebrow at you." Oh~ How scandalous! You're saying we should do pre-martial hand holding? why, that's practically a crime!"

You deadpanned at your girlfriend's words," Holding your hand is a crime?..."

"Mmhm!"

"But we literally made-out yester-"

She smiled at you passive-aggressively," I'm afraid we can't hold hands until we're married! Too bad!" She sighed, pretending to seem devastated ," How could you suggest we do such a lewd thing? In public, no less! You're quite the little scoundrel, hmm?~"

Your deadpan only deepened," Well then... I guess I'll just have to marry you then, hm? So I can hold your hand for the rest of my life." You chimed out, a slight twinkle in your eye. At the sight of Kocho's cheeks tinting a bright red, you smirked in triumph." Oya~? What's that I see? Is that blush?" You poked her warm cheek affectionately," I think it iiiis~!"

Biting her lip, Kocho scoffed and rolled her eyes," Just because you won doesn't mean you-... Shut up." She huffed out, losing her composure.

" Aha! So I won." You grinned out," I think I deserve a prize for winning for like... the first time." You said that last part quickly.

" You're not getting a kiss, if that's what you're referring to!" She smiled up at you passive aggressively.

Now the win didn't even feel like a win.

I guess, Kocho will always win in the end.

You pouted at her, eyebrows furrowed," You're so petty...." You groaned out, before a cheeky grin crossed over your lips," How about letting me hold your hand instead?"

Kocho stared at your grin with an unimpressed look, before her eyes softened and a gentle smile spread onto her perfect lips." Wipe that cheeky grin off of your face and I might consider it."

A bright smile instantly spread onto your lips and you held out your hand expectantly for her to take it. Her radiant smile only widened and her hand settled into yours, her warm fingers closing over your own as if she was keeping them safe in her hold.

" Now you have to marry me." She stated simply," I want to hold your hand in mine for the rest of my life as well."

᯾༄𖦹.𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕘𝕦𝕫𝕒𝕨𝕒 𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕖𝕞𝕚 .𖦹༄᯾

BRUUUUH THIS FUCKING MAN-

Ok, so hear me out lol-

I have read up on his character a tiny bit and bro he's such a fucking SOFTY like-

If you were to ask him to hold your hand he'd highkey have to process what you said for like a minute or two before finally agreeing to it lol

He has such a tough-guy exterior when on the inside he's actually really caring to those who are important to him.

Definitely one of those characters who seem like pricks but they like something cute like cats or something-

"Uhm... Sanemi?" You spoke up suddenly, interrupting the peaceful silence.

Your boyfriend broke out of his daze of appreciating your beauty and hummed to let you know that he was listening, picking up some of his uneaten rice with his chopsticks.

"Can... Can I h-hold your hand?"

He choked on the rice he was eating, coughing into his fist and thumping his other hand against his chest to try and get the rice that shot down the back of his throat to go down.

You went to get out of your chair to help him, concern etched onto your face, but he held a hand up to stop you. Instead, you simply passed your water to him, as of which he chugged greatfully.

When he had finally gained his composure, he held out a slightly trembling hand, his cheeks tinted red as he let out a gruff," yeah... Of course you can, idiot. You don't have to ask..."

Adoration bloomed in your chest at his words and you grabbed his outstretched hand, instantly interlocking your fingers with his. Absentmindedly, you ran your thumb up and down his hand comfortingly as you smiled like an idiot to yourself.

Ba-dump.

Sanemi's heart thumped in his chest at the look of love on your face, feeling his whole body heating up. The wind pillar was known for being ruthless, intimidating and quite frankly... A bit of an asshole.

But around you? He's a completely different person.

Between you and his little brother, he's always going to have a huge soft spot for you both.

So he'll always treat you well.

Squeezing your hand lovingly, he let a slight smirk curl onto his lips," You look like a dumbass smiling like that.... You must really like me, huh?" He tried to tease.

"I don't like you."

Arrows shot through his heart, his smirk dropping in an instant," Oi-!"

You giggled at his response," I love you."

The frown on his lips wobbled a little, threatening to break out into an idiotic smile. Clearing his throat, he looked away from you and pressed the back of his unoccupied hand against his mouth to hide the smile that threatened to appear.

"Oh..." He could only respond with," y-yeah... Same here."

"You're so socially inept."

"I'm damn not!!" He grumbled, eyebrows furrowing," I fucking love you too!! Is that better?"

You grinned childishly, bringing his hand up to your mouth and placing a light kiss to it," much better."

It's safe to say that this was the day he vowed to marry you.

963 notes · View notes

erratic-brainrot · 3 years ago

Note

Talk about Kyle

Talk about Kyle you say? Uhm, what a captivating request haha.

Especially with the vagueness of such a request, no specifications…

Lately a lot of talk around Kyle has been a defence of his moral character or general anayalists (meta), all of which I adore and love…

But I simply crave to go balls to the wall about a headcanon in a public space so everyone can further this discussion.

So, with that in mind, I present you all with my very important headcanon that unnecessarily has way too many layers to it…

Kyle is a private fiction writer. Aka he writes for his own amusement in heavy lengths and doesn’t show anyone (at least currently or is just in general secretive about it).

I don’t view it as a passive pastime either, instead being a significant hobby with high effort in creating and improving. Making full blown character charts, making world-building docs, doing writing exercises, following a lot of accounts about writing advice and general fiction, even commissioning artists to draw his OCs because he genuinely enjoys them.

It’s serious to him. Something he is genuinely dedicated to.

Though I don’t think Kyle would limit himself in genres, I see him mostly writing fantasy. He would enjoy the free range fantasy has within its world-building compared to other genres, as well as the escapism within it. Kyle would enjoy being able to get lost in a world that felt fair. To be absorbed into a world that is within his control, differing from what plights of his own. Often writing fantastical stories about heros who rise to the occasion and rein victorious, of communities where he’d be accepted as a person, of characters who share relationships he craves and so forth. His fiction would where he could indulge his own wants and needs that he struggles to obtain in his reality.

One of those needs being, likely unknown to him originally, to tackle and digest in a control environment the problems that inflict his reality. A majority of which actually get him to a deeper level of understanding, giving him some more ground to handle a situation. Not all attempts are perfect, since Kyle does have a penchant for self-destructive mindsets— mostly aligned with his martyr and guilt complex. Often recreating situations that he struggles within his reality, and through the force of being the writer, having to come up with a ‘correct’ conclusion. Oftentimes having to question whether or not he's the bad guy circumstance, with him failing to see the truth through the lense of his own personal view of himself at times.

Even with those possible missteps, he feels better within his fiction. It is overall helpful to him. This could change based on your own Headcanons, but I can see Kyle truthfully coming to terms with his orientation through his writing— specifically his crushes. It also helped him put into perspective his familial and platonic relationship. Something that increases when he actively interjects traits of people he knows into his characters. For me, as the filthy polyarnous shipper i am, see him coming to terms with one of his fictional works that are heavy interjects of himself and his friends/loved ones… which leads him to discover, through writing characters similar to Wendy and Stan that he doesn’t envy their romance as someone simply lacking their own—- that instead he seems to want either of them romantically… but he also doesn’t like the concept of choose one or the other, nor breaking up their relationship, etc, etc.

Though he would have multiple stories/universes, I feel like his favourite to write about is the one with many character injections— including himself; which was because he actually enjoyed the story of “stick of truth” but wanted to develop something similar without Cartman’s Pro(?) bigotry and less fear within creativity. It’s one of the stories he feels most embarrassed about since it isn’t just basic creativity and overtly personal and referencing real people even if the characters are different from who they're based on. Aka kyle would die if anyone ever found out about it, and why he protects it with every ounce of his being because people like Eric Cartman exist purely to bring his life pain.

I could go more into detail about the fictional world he would have and such, but I got the main points out. I like this headcanon and would enjoy hearing other concepts in reference to this that others have. :D thank you for reading!!!

#south park #cartoon #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #wendy testaburger #wendy x kyle x stan #wendy x stan x kyle #kyle x stan x wendy #kyle x wendy x stan #stan x kyle x wendy #stan x wendy x kyle #stylendy #stendyle #south park headcanons #south park hcs #south park fanart #digital art #sketches #my artwork

86 notes · View notes

the-slasher-files · 4 years ago

Note

Ah I'm so glad to see requests are open, I hope this one is alright! May I request Jason, Bo, and Vincent (or just Vincent if you want), with a very physically affectionate s/o? Like, tries to hold their hand often, leans on them, just always tries to be in physical contact.

Yay!! Ok I am back writing for other slashers, but I will say I am very rusty, so this is definitely not my best, but we are getting there. Andrei is slowly easing his jaws on my brain and I’m ready to get back into regular writing! I also added Michael to this list, simply because I miss writing for him... anyway I hope you enjoy🔪💕

SLASHERS WITH A PHYSICALLY AFFECTIONATE S/O

INCLUDES JASON, MICHAEL, BO, and VINCENT

JASON VOORHEES

At first he doesn't know what to do with you. Jason has not been touched in like 50 years, so go slow.

Once he gets used to all the touches and he wants to give you equal affection but Jason doesn't really know how.

He will either be extremely gentle or rough when he goes to show you affection, he's only been brutal for so long and tbh man doesn't know how to act.

But he adores your affection. He might jump a little at it but after a while, he will completely lean into it and nuzzle your head with his mask. Once he gets the hang of the affection, Jason is gold. When you lean on Jason he will instantly lean into you as well. If you hug him he will hug you back and stronger.

A big thing with Jason is physically affection since he cannot talk so this is very very important in the relationship.

Jason’s favourite pastime is just running his broken and scarred fingers along your body and stroking your hair.

There is something so intimate about him just touching someone gently. After years and years of murdering just having someone near him who loves him means the world.

On starry nights Jason would love to take you to the dock and just cuddle watching the twinkling stars and just holding you.

Just go slow and you will earn yourself the best slasher cuddle bug.

MICHAEL MYERS

Surprisingly Michael is a huge lover of physical affection, he just doesn't know how to show it properly.

The way he chokes you, holds the blade to your skin and the way he wants your face to twist in fear upon seeing him.. that’s his twisted affection.

You will have to show him proper affection, but on his terms or else you might get a knife to the neck.

Just be very careful with him. It is like dealing with a wild animal, Michael is not something to just be played with, he is unpredictable and always has a dangerous edge behind him.

Go slow in teaching him. Sitting on the couch next to Michael is honestly probably good enough for him but if you suddenly just lay your head in his lap he might jump slightly but he will not remove you... unless you caught him on a bad day, which 80% of the time.

A good way to start is to hold his hand or run your fingers along his thigh when you sit together.

There however will be once in a blue moon when it is late at night and he is curious. Curious for genuine affection, do not take this for granted or do not think that this a normal occurrence because this is rarer than a shooting star.

On that one night Michael will put the knife down, snuggle close, and run his murder hands along your body or in your hair, but in a good way, not a way that sparks fear. Again, go slow and he will let you pet his wavy brown locks and trace his scars. This is when you know Michael loves you.

Basically, you need to do affection on his terms or else he might stab you.

BO SINCLAIR

This is tricky because he loves affection but hates it at the same time. Bo is extremely touched starved and might jump at your small touches or he might think you are trying to do something to him.

For Bo it is no touches or it is sex. There is no in between.

He will think your gentle touches to his arm are supposed to mean you want his dick. Eventually, Bo will settle into just loving the tender kisses or gentle touches for what they are, not sex.

To be honest, he loves the affectionate side of a s/o, it makes him feel so loved and wanted, anything to make his ego or pride swell he is there.

When Bo is working on his truck and you ask to hold his hand he will roll those baby blues but do it anyway. He will never admit to loving the affection but he really does.

He loves when you lean on him or hug him or even kiss his knuckles.

Surprisingly Bo is actually very good at returning the affection. Even though he had very abusive parents he most likely got to see what a real relationship was like and how to treat a woman.

I think he is honestly more needy than his s/o for affection some days. If you are in the kitchen making dinner Bo will place his large oil-stained fingers on your hips and rest his chin on your shoulder.

Bo’s favourite thing however is at the end of the night when he has his beer and is watching some crappy comedy that you come to sit on his lap and run your small fingers through his brown hair. He loves it

VINCENT SINCLAIR

Now Vincent is different from his brother, but the same in a few ways.

He always got the affection from his parents instead of Bo which I think makes his level of touch starved higher because he had it so much then it was suddenly gone, but he won't flinch away or give you a weird look, he will lean into it.

Vincent loves affection but I feel it needs to be in certain areas, like his hands and arms vs his face. He is deeply insecure about his face and it will take you a long long time before you can touch, stroke or kiss it. His arms and hands work constantly and a s/o that kissing them and massages he would absolutely adore.

With his working hands, Vincent has strong and skilled fingers, great for returning your affection. Could be as simple as holding hands to massaging you after a long day.

With Vincent, he will have little no to no problem giving the affection back, just not in front of Bo.

He thinks you are so cute going up to him randomly and sitting on his lap or hugging his back. He really missed the soft gentle affection that was ripped from him.

#my writing #horror #slasher #slashers #halloween #michael myers #jason vorhees #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #house of wax #x you #x reader #slasher fandom #slasher fanfiction

287 notes · View notes

mirrorthoughts · 3 years ago

Note

For any OC you feel like talking about today :) :

🍁Where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themself? Would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? Do they have a favourite spot outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?

and

🌾 Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them

Awww! Thanks so much for the question, @asher-writes! And the open choice xD

I think I‘m gonna write about Anton Asper. I don’t think I’ve mentioned him yet, he‘s one of the main characters of my current original story :3 he‘s not a POV-character though. His partner Sasha Weber is.

Since this post got rather long… more unter the cut xD

Anton is a potions master and a very secretive man. He‘s in his mid 50ies and owns a shop together with Sasha which mostly sells a lot of books - non-magical in the front and magical in the back - as well as his potions and charms and other spellcraft-y stuff that Sascha works on.

Both of them have a certain reputation thanks to them being „war heroes“ for defeating a dark lord about two decades prior. (Sascha was seen as „the chosen one“, Anton was one of his teachers and allies at the time) So there is a certain public opinion (and pressure) on Anton he does like to avoid.

🍁 Where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themself? Would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? Do they have a favourite spot outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?

Anton‘s place of comfort is his potions lab. He can close out people and opinions and concentrate on creating and fiddling and experimenting with his potions. While he does like to be alone there he also likes having Sascha with him since his partner a) can actually be silent if he wants to and working silently next to each other is one of Anton’s favourite pastimes and b) Sascha is just as intelligent and creative as Anton himself - just in different aspects. They often end up testing combinations of Anton‘s potions to Sascha‘s creations and sometimes Anton even pauses with making potions to just work on one of Sascha‘s projects (or vice versa for that matter).

His outside comfort place is everywhere he has his peace - alone or with Sascha - and the possibility to find herbs and other ingredients, may it be his own roof garden where he grows his most used herbs or anywhere else in the world.

🌾 Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them

… that would be from Sascha‘s eyes then xD alright, let’s let him have the stage, huh? ;D

Sascha: „Well, Toni‘s gorgeous, for one! I love his graceful movement, all confident and sure. He can be very imposing and when I met him the first time I felt absolutely intimidated by his dark eyes, dark hair and light skin. It took a while to see him laugh at all which happened mostly after the war when we started to get to know each other as friends and not only as… people on the same side fighting for the same cause. I’m proud to say that his crow‘s feet by now are mostly from smiling and laughing instead of the scowls and frowns he used to wear around his students. He‘s still very light skinned even though I actually got him to take a few weeks off with me over the years so he didn’t see as much of his potions lab in those days, but his skin doesn’t keep the darker colour very well. He always has to be careful about sunburn, too. And don’t tell him I told you about the adorable freckles that appear when his skin gets darker - he always denies to have any! Toni’s still rather self-conscious about his nose and I’m still sad that me and my peers didn’t help any with that when I was in my teens. Though I do like the shape of it even if it’s crooked and a bit too large - a lot of space to press kisses to! Toni also liked to keep his hair about shoulder length to keep it out of his face while working, though by now he keeps it a bit longer - in a low ponytail when working - because he likes me playing with his hair in the evening. And I love letting my fingers glide through his hair, too, it’s so silky and soft! And on the topics of fingers, uhh… I love Toni’s fingers- hands! I meant hands! Well… both I guess? They are longer than mine and just as graceful as the rest of him. Watching him cut herbs and other things is… uh… not very helpful when I try to keep my head on work related topics! Otherwise… hm. I think he looks gorgeous in everything he wears though I mostly see him in his robes since those protect him from potions spills etc. At home we mostly like to lounge in comfortable wear that’s not clinging as much to one’s body. Though when we go out he does strike a handsome figure in slacks - mostly dark of course - and simple shirts. He does like to roll up his sleeves a lot - he’s mostly used to about elbow-length sleeves due to his work robes - and well. You won’t hear me complain about that!“

So much to Sascha‘s description of Anton/Toni xD…

Hope you liked the answers and thanks again for the questions!

#seikaze #sei's writing #ask game answers #Asher-writes

7 notes · View notes

crispyjenkins · 4 years ago

Note

Thot obiwan... just him being a thot and happy (it’s what he deserves) pls no obitine lol

(went a poly route with this cause i wasn't sure how to write thot!obi without making myself uncomfortable, so instead have poly obi and his seven partners! it’s like scott pilgrim except obi’s still dating them all. a mix of triads and Vs here! because i’m soft for big polycules

couldn’t get to more detail in such a short fill, but all ships are tagged if there’s any confusion! (ノ*´◡`) i will absolutely be returning to poly!Obi in the future.)

Rex promptly, and calmly, chokes on his first sip of tea.

Cody sighs, because he isn't exactly clear on the details either. "Yes, all of them. "

"Is that... Is that... allowed?"

"High General Ti is also on the council, it must be." The last twenty five hours since rescuing his general and the rest of Ghost Company from Ventress’ latest plot have been rather confusing for Cody, from Obi-Wan’s debrief to the holocall with the council, to Obi-Wan’s four other holocalls that Cody isn't entirely sure he was meant to see. He supposes he should feel grateful that Senator Organa had recently returned to Alderaan, or it could have been more.

Rex's eyes go distant as he does the math, a couple of brothers ducking around them where they've stopped in the middle of the hall. "That's... five people, Cody."

"Yes, Rex, I can count." He grabs Rex's elbow to start steering him towards the hangar again, where they’re supposed to be greeting some new Shinies in less than five minutes.

"But what about Ventress? And isn't General Fisto—"

"With Bly and General Secura? Yes. As for Ventress, as far as I can tell, the General... is simply like that with everyone he fights." It certainly calls into question quite a few "interactions" Cody has witnessed in his two years at Obi-Wan’s side, anyways. Fett's left sheb, does he have to worry about Ohnaka?

For all that Rex had been CC track just by being smart, he doesn't seem any more sure of the situation than Cody is. "Fett's left sheb," he agrees, bewilderedly tossing his flimsi cup of tea into a waste receptacle without actually having drunk any. "Bly never said anything."

Cody grunts and thumbs the edge of the helmet in his hands. "He isn't involved with General Kenobi."

"Cody, brother, that doesn't make sense." He punctuates the notion with a wild swing of his hand, narrowly missing a tech clone, who takes one look at the two of them and decides he isn't going to try and go toe-to-toe with two war heroes. "Where did you hear this? If it was Fives, you should know by now–”

“The General told me himself.” Sort of, anyways — Obi-Wan is rarely blind to his surroundings, and he had not dismissed Cody after the debrief with the council, so he must have meant for him to see. Why he had been meant to see is still up for debate, especially when Cody had waited all of four hours before telling Rex; no secrets among brothers, or what have you.

“I suppose what the generals do in their spare time is their business,” Rex mutters. “And it’s not as if the Jedi are anything the longnecks said they were, anyways. But Kote...”

He could do without the pitying look Rex gives him. “As you said: it’s their business. It wasn’t, and isn’t, any of mine what the General does off the field.”

“If you say so, brother.” He pats Cody’s shoulder, far gentler than the situation perhaps warrants. “What a way to find out, though; I don’t know what I’d do if I knew Skywalker was romancing around with half the council.”

Cody sort of wishes Waxer hadn’t tossed out the rotgut Wooley’s had cooked up the last time they were planetside. “I won’t tell you about Senator Amidala and Senator Mothma, then,” he sighs, just to see Rex turn as white as Shiny armour.

Senator Organa breaks away from the little party that had greeted The Negotiator in the Temple hangar and approaches Cody with a smile perhaps even kinder than his general’s.

“Welcome back to Coruscant, Commander,” he says pleasantly, folding his arms behind his back and settling next to Cody to observe General Ti fuss over Obi-Wan’s injuries.

“Thank you, sir.”

“I think I can speak for everyone,” Organa nods to Obi-Wan’s entourage, “when I say we are indebted to you yet again.”

Cody blinks at him, thankful he can hide his incredulity inside his bucket. “Sir?”

Turning his smile back to Cody, Organa puts a hand on his shoulder not unlike a brother would. “None of our positions allow us to watch his back, and certainly not as well as you do. I’m sure you can understand our worry.”

“I suppose so, sir,” Cody says carefully, not convinced that Organa isn’t trying to catch him up in a lie. “If I may, sir,” Organa waves for him to continue, “I’m not entirely sure I know what we’re talking about.”

“Hm, perhaps that’s fair,” Organa chuckles. “I apologise for having to speak so mysteriously, but one can never be too careful. I merely meant to thank you, and to encourage you to talk to him; for all that the Jedi are not hierarchical, he worries about his position above you. And Obi-Wan is no blushing Alqull, but he would not impose himself on you.”

“... Sir.”

“Yes, yes, more mystery. Just talk to him.” Organa leaves him with one last smile and a pat on the shoulder, and Cody wonders if Waxer had spiked his caf that morning.

The 212th had lost enough brothers in their last entanglement with Ventress that they return to Kamino immediately after Coruscant, General Ti all too happy to join them aboard The Negotiator; the brothers are delighted to learn she prefers to stand against their general’s back, lekku and arms absolutely dwarfing him, and Obi-Wan lets her.

They keep separate quarters, though Cody isn’t sure how much of it is for keeping up appearances.

As high strung as he is after his conversation with Senator Organa, Cody is relieved when they finally dock in Tipoca City and he can hand babysitting the 212th over to Waxer. He loves his men, truly, but being cooped up with them for a tenday in hyperspace is far from his favourite pastime.

When Cody joins Obi-Wan for their trek to the training levels, Obi-Wan takes one look at his harried expression and laughs — Cody would like to believe it’s because he knows what Cody’s thinking, rather than any sort of Jedi-mind-reading-nonsense.

Taun We meets them on the way, prattling about the “improvements” they’ve made since the last batch, and Cody pays attention because he has to, but the general’s little smile aimed in Cody’s direction does nothing to help him concentrate.

Alpha-17 greets them as soon as Taun We opens the door to one of the training rooms, and Cody finds he’d actually missed the old hardass; it isn’t every brother that can call High General Yoda a toad to his face and get away with it, just by virtue of being Alpha-17.

And then Alpha sees Obi-Wan and actually smiles, and Cody updates his mental counter to six. He had forgotten how much time Alpha had spent with the 212th before Cody was assigned, forgotten that it was Alpha with Obi-Wan when Ventress first kidnapped him; perhaps the holodramas are right, that shared trauma is a simple step away from romance.

Kriff, he could have gone his whole life not picturing Alpha trying to romance absolutely anyone.

“You haven’t asked,” Obi-Wan observes, hands folded under his chin across the desk from Cody. The teapot between them steams gently, filling Obi-Wan’s quarters with a haze of shiso and ginger that settles Cody’s nerves rather than stokes them.

“Sir?”

“Come now, Cody: we’ve worked together far too long for that.”

And Cody snorts a laugh, even as he turns back to the datapad in his hands. “I did not think it my business, sir.”

“Hm, and your conversation with Bail?”

Cody glances up. “Are you laughing at me, sir?”

The soft smile from Kamino is back on his general’s lips, making Cody all too aware of his helmet on the other side of the room. “Perhaps a little, Commander – your play for stoicism is as amusing as always.

“I don’t know what you refer to, General, I did not lie: I have not asked because it is not my business, and if there was more to discuss, I knew you would bring it up again.” With an inhaled sigh, Cody sets his datapad back on the desk and faces Obi-Wan properly, because he isn’t a cadet, and he isn’t what-are-emotions-what-is-responsibility Skywalker. “Clearly you have more to discuss.”

“Bah, you make it sound like a chore, Kote.”

He raises a brow. “When I was assigned to the 212th, General Vos warned me of your politician-speak, sir. Any conversation with you is a chore.”

Obi-Wan startles out a laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners as if just to remind him that there are lines on his face from more than just war. “Captain Rex tells me you get that snark from Alpha, but I must say I think it is a family trait.” Smiling behind his fingers, Obi-Wan tilts his head as if Cody were an especially endearing puzzle. “I’m afraid I don’t quite know how to navigate this conversation, my friend: I don’t believe I was the instigator of any in the past.”

“More politician-speak,” Cody chides without heat, but knows what he means anyways. “And you thought I would instigate, if you left it long enough?”

“Well, I hope I’ve created an environment where you and your brothers may speak your minds–”

“General,” Cody interrupts boldly, and Obi-Wan just keeps smiling at him, “I have it on good authority that none of my brothers have been the one to broach this subject first.”

“Mhm,” he chuckles, “Yes, I did hear about Commander Bly and Kit, and about Commander Choke with the 202nd.” Poor Shiny, Cody thinks, fresh out of ARC training when she met her general for the first time; the other battalions hadn’t stopped laughing about it for months.

“Sir, the freedom the Jedi have given us undermined nearly everything the longnecks brought us up to believe; if you are unsure of what to say, I’m hardly going to be more prepared.”

“Hm, perhaps we ought to be blunt with each other, then? Avoid the politician-speak entirely?”

“Yes, perhaps that would be better, sir.”

“Then, Kote, I would very much like to kiss you.”

“Only if you’ve brushed your teeth since you kissed Alpha.”

Obi-Wan throws his head back and laughs.

167 notes · View notes

prosciuttulipa · 4 years ago

Note

May I request h/c's for La Squadra (individually) getting hit with an aging stand ability which turns them into a child for a few days and s/o (g/n) has to take care of them until they're back to normal? Thank you for your time. Also love your work òwó -⌖

Hello, anon hon! Of course you may! And ahh, I’m so glad you like my work! Thank you for reading it! This is my first headcanon piece for the whole La Squadra gang — it is quite long, so I might make them shorter in the future (unless you all like these lengths)!

I also haven’t included Sorbet and Gelato, but if you’d like them added to the list, I’ll write something for them as well!

The Aging Stand works as such: La Squadra is able to recognize their S/O as someone they’re safe with, but they don’t remember that they’re their S/O, or that they were even adults. However, once they turn back, they have memories of the time they were affected by the Stand.

Headcanons: La Squadra turns into a child, with Gender Neutral!S/O taking care of them

Risotto:

You almost don’t recognize Risotto as a child — his trademark black scleras, red irises and silver hair are nowhere to be seen. Instead, you find yourself face to face with a kid with light blonde hair - so light it almost looks silver - and the most gorgeous green eyes.

(You find out when he’s turned back that obtaining his Stand had affected his looks, hence the appearance you were accustomed to. But you can’t help but think that Risotto as a child looks almost...pretty.)

Risotto is a quiet kid, but you get the feeling it’s more out of choice than a duty; his silence as a child isn’t accompanied by the heaviness you feel from him as an adult. In fact, you find that he actually talks and smiles a lot more than you’re used to, voice quiet but emotive; he seems really happy to have someone to chat with.

Is also a rather helpful and (surprisingly) clingy kid — he likes following you around and observing what you’re doing, handing you tools or items before you even ask for them. What he really wants is to join in on your activities, but he won’t initiate it. You can tell by the way he rocks on his heels that he wants something though, and when you ask if he wants to help with whatever you’re doing, he’s rushing over in a heartbeat, excited.

When he turns back into an adult, Risotto thanks you for being so kind to him: it’d been a while since he felt that free, and it felt good to be taken care of, for once. He gives you a long kiss, before letting you know with a murmur that you’d make a great parent, and if you weren’t opposed to it, he’d love the idea of starting a family with you someday...

Prosciutto:

Even as a child, you recognize Prosciutto immediately: he’s practically a mini version of his adult self, with his hair neatly slicked back, wearing a button-up and some black pants. His glare is the same too, though you can’t help but think that it doesn’t pack the same punch — he looks more pouty than threatening!

Prosciutto is a very standoffish, but good kid. He’s very obedient and doesn’t make a lot of fuss, but there’s something quite robotic with his ‘please’ and ‘thank you’s. He also seems unaccustomed to having someone else around, often doing activities on his own; when you ask him if you can join him, he looks surprised, but he lets you (and maybe perks up slightly at the company).

Child Prosciutto is also used to doing the chores. You’ve found him loading laundry into the washing machine, and after meals he goes to wash the dishes, standing on a little stool to reach the sink. It’s very impressive that he knows how to do all of this, but you can’t help but feel a bit concerned — someone had clearly taught Prosciutto to fend for himself at a very young age...what sort of background did he grow up in?

You get your answer after a while. Prosciutto hadn’t expressed any wants, so you ask him whether there’s anything he’d like. What comes next is heartbreaking: “...I want Madre and Padre to spend more time with me. But I know they can’t, so as long as they come back home safe, I don’t want anything else.”

You make a vow right then and there to make sure he feels safe and cared for; a child shouldn’t have to worry about issues like that, and the fact that Prosciutto does makes your chest ache. So whether it’s keeping him company or showering him with gifts and treats, you do your best to provide Prosciutto with a comfortable place. When he changes back into an adult, you’re hugging him tightly, promising him that you won’t ever leave him alone. He’s silent, but by his firm grip on you, you can tell he appreciates it.

Melone:

Melone is a pretty child: his hair is blonde (not lavender, as it hasn’t been dyed yet) but just as long and silky smooth, and you’re able to get a clear view of beautiful blue eyes without his mask. He still favours swooping his hair to one side, though. You initially think there’s a deeper reason for it, but it just seems that he likes how it frames his face.

A very curious and smart kid, Melone isn’t shy about sharing his ideas and knowledge, loving to hear yours as well! Discussions and asking questions are favourite pastimes of his. You notice that Melone has a routine in initiating them: he tugs at your hand insistently, before starting with a “Do you know that…” It’s quite endearing!

With that, Melone also enjoys reading, a common occurrence to see him poring over a book he’s picked off the bookshelf; you can’t help but smile when you see that they’re all biology books too (ah, that’s where Baby Face is from). You’ll often find Melone padding up to you, asking if you could explain what a particular word or diagram means. However, he gets most excited when you read a book to him, snuggling into your lap and listening with rapt attention.

He’s a bit of a fashionista as well! While nowhere near the eccentric tastes he has as an adult, Melone does enjoy experimenting with his clothing, tying and looping fabric to create new outfits for himself! He also enjoys ‘making’ clothes for you, clipping and knotting blankets together to create some avant-garde looks! They’re surprisingly good!

Once Melone turns back, he’s got baby fever, immediately. He remembers how kind and caring you were while you were taking care of his child self, and he’ll gush about how gorgeous you’d look while taking care of children you two could call your own. And if you think that that’s all you’re going to get away with, you’re sorely mistaken...you’ve gotten him all hot and bothered thinking about parenthood and babies, and you’re going to have to help relieve him.

Ghiaccio:

Like Risotto, Ghiaccio’s appearance as an adult is a result of his Stand (which he hadn’t yet obtained as a child). While you recognize him from his red glasses and angry glare, his hair throws you for a loop: it’s ginger in colour, in a shade that’s as fiery as his temper. Although his hair isn’t flattened into the style that you’re used to seeing, it seems to have a natural curl and spring to it; you find yourself ruffling his hair a lot...it’s just so nice to touch!

And speaking of tempers...you find that Ghiaccio is just as loud and agitated as ever, perhaps even more so (hell hath no fury as a small child scorned). But he doesn’t have petty tantrums — more so that he gets worked up very easily and hence ends up yelling. When angry, the noise isn’t nice to deal with, but if the yelling is because he’s getting excited about something he likes, it’s quite endearing. You can’t help but want to cheer along with him!

Nevertheless, constant screaming is never good for anyone, and Ghiaccio needs to be calmed down — luckily enough, you have plenty of experience doing that. You remind him to use his inside voice, giving him space and time to wind down. He mumbles to you one day that he appreciates how you don’t scold him when he gets loud: he can’t help but hit MAX VOLUME when getting worked up, and he’s glad that you understand he’s not trying to be a nuisance.

When more level-headed, Ghiaccio proves himself to be a very bright and confident child, with a penchant for languages! He’s a quick learner, and if you speak more than one language, he wants you to teach him some phrases! He spends most of his time reviewing what he’s learned, and repeating it to you when he has the chance. And if you reward him with a hug or a ruffle to his hair...well, you’ll find that Ghiaccio gets quite affectionate, making sure he does a perfect job to earn another gentle pat!

Once he turns back, Ghiaccio is completely embarrassed, barely able to get the ‘thank you’ out of him. But before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you into a tight hug, grumbling about how he hasn’t been able to hold you and needs to make up for the lost time.

Formaggio:

As a child, Formaggio doesn’t look all that much different from his adult self. He has the same flashy hairstyle and street style clothes, but he’s got a bit of a babyface — you can tell he’d really grown into his features as he got older! Nonetheless, those cheeks of his are perfect for squishing, something you find yourself indulging in as you take care of him.

Formaggio is quite a normal child: his biggest worry is how to get out of trouble, and he always has a shit-eating grin on his face. As assassins, Formaggio hadn’t said anything about his background for safety reasons, but his child self tells you all kinds of information: that he’s grown up in a big family, that he plays with stray animals that come to his door, that he looks up to his big brother and papa. You hang on to his every word, happy to learn a bit more about him.

Is the Ultimate Clapback Extraordinaire™. If you think this child can’t talk smack, then you are sorely mistaken. He is ruthless with his comebacks, but you can’t help loving this rowdy side of him, especially when it’s not directed towards you — Prosciutto comes in one day to check up on the two of you, and you can barely hold your laughter as Formaggio absolutely demolishes the man with his wits.

He also loves making you laugh! His speciality is impressions and slapstick comedy, with him calling out to you before pulling a face, or a silly magic trick. It’s his way of making sure you’re alright: you find yourself stressed one day (taking care of your boyfriend who is now a child does a number on your mental health) and before you know it, you’re doubling over in laughter at Formaggio’s antics, worries far away from you.

When he turns back into an adult, you teasingly complain that he was cuter as a child, but you both know you’re relieved things are back to normal. He sweeps you into his arms and peppers your face with kisses, promising with that same mischievous grin to treat you to a nice date as thanks for all you’ve done.

Illuso:

It is honestly a bit terrifying how much Illuso looks the same as a child. His hair isn’t in multiple ponytails - he’s put it in one sleek ponytail instead - but he has the same smug expression you’re used to. His clothing isn’t as revealing though, which is a relief — he might get cold and sick if he’s not wearing enough.

Do not attempt to play hide and seek with him; you should’ve known better than to trust that honey-sweet plea. Illuso is good at the game, and he knows it. The first (and last time) you play the game, you end up seeking Illuso for an entire day. The only way you’d found him was by calling out that dinner was ready, realizing with horror that he’d hidden in a high kitchen cabinet full of glassware (how on earth did he get up there).

Disciplining Illuso is also a complete failure. It may be because you’re so soft with him (he is/was your boyfriend, after all), but you can’t say no when he starts to pout, batting his lashes at you in a way that’ll make any heart melt. And if that expression of his fails, he’ll tide you over with his words, mumbling out a ‘please forgive me’, tone apologetic and regretful. Yet as soon as you forgive him, he’s back to being catty and raising hell.

But you can’t deny he’s sweet. You’re particularly tired one day, which Illuso picks up on. He’s uncharacteristically well behaved, occasionally appearing with little gifts and then disappearing without a sound; you receive some chocolate, a bunch of hand-picked flowers, and some hot water to calm your nerves. When he finally returns in the evening, explaining that he kept himself entertained so as to give you some space, you pull him into a gentle hug, laughing softly when you feel him pat your head.

When Illuso turns back, the first thing he does is apologize for being such a handful of a child — there’s no denying that he was being a bit of a brat. Pressing a soft kiss to your neck and running his hands down your sides, he whispers into your ear that he’ll make it up to you with some sweet, sweet loving...it’s his turn to take care of you now.

Pesci:

Is the sweetest looking out of all of the La Squadra children: his hair is still styled like his adult self, and you can’t help but gush when you realize that he’s missing a front tooth! He tells you that he had lost it a few days ago, pointing to where the tiniest bit of adult tooth is starting to grow in. “I can’t wait till it comes in completely!”

Pesci is still just as shy and timid, though he gets less so the longer you spend time with him. Originally, he finds himself hiding behind large objects (it makes him feel safe), but once you start to get him out of his shell, he slowly drops the habit, coming up and snuggling up to you instead! He’s quite the cuddle bug once he’s comfortable with you!

Your praise is also something that makes him incredibly happy! The first time you say, “You did great Pesci!”, he flushes and gets all cute, stuttering out a thank you before hiding his face. But there’s no doubt that he likes it, so you don’t hold back on the compliments. Eventually, the praise makes Pesci feel more confident in himself — if you believe he can do something, then he’s going to give it the best shot he has!

Mention anything related to the ocean, and Pesci will lose his mind. You’d decided to bring back a children’s book about sea animals one day, and when you offered it to Pesci, the boy was jumping up and down in excitement, squeaking out a ‘thank you’ before flipping through the pages. The book never leaves his side, and he’s read it so many times, he can tell you the names of all the different sea animals! His favourite one is the clownfish: he thinks it’s so cool that they don’t get stung by sea anemone!

Once Pesci turns back into an adult, he’s hugging you tightly, stuttering out his thanks for being so nice with his child self. He never tells you, but he ends up keeping the sea animals book you bought for him; it’s a personal reminder of how much you love him, and maybe one day, he’ll be able to hear you read that book to you two’s future children...

266 notes · View notes

misunderstoodnotevil · 4 years ago

Text

Series 1, episode 3

To begin with, I find it interesting how Pamuk is said to be a Turkish diplomat instead of an Ottoman one (a quick research showed that in Western Europe they did use Ottomans and Turkish alike) and it's quite amusing (to me) that an actor of Greek descent played the Turkish character.

Let's talk about the episode now, This is where you actually understand that there's not going to be any consistent characterisation of Thomas here. Who has been the one to go against authority so far (shown as a bad thing because how dare he?)? O'Brien and Thomas. Who's the one sneaking behind Gwen's back to bring her typewriter in the kitchen and rat her to Carson and Hughes? O'Brien. Who tries to take Gwen's side? William! What does Thomas reply to the perfectly logical "Why shouldn't Gwen have a typewriter if she wants one?". "Mind your own business." Yes, that's the same Thomas who two episodes previously was proclaiming he didn't want to be a footman any more. We learn servants have to right to privacy, courtesy of Ms. Hughes. Anna, Mr. Bates and William come as the good guys. Everyone else? Not so much. Of course, some are forgiven because they are the good guys. I won't even start with O'Brien's "What's wrong with being in service?" and what follows. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a villain just as much as the next girl, but -just like Thomas- this is the woman who was humiliated by Cora and Ms. Hughes in the previous episode, who claimed there was no real friendship among anyone "in service". Is this her way of taking her revenge on someone of a lower status than her? As a writer, I always try to find the motivation behind every person's actions. And "yes, she/he is the big bad meanie" sometimes doesn't cut it.

[Matthew is quite taken by Mary. Edith's attempts to seduce him are fruitless. Mary doesn't know which suitor to choose from. Except Matthew. Clearly, he's beneath her.]

Enter Kemal Pamuk. An attaché at the Turkish embassy (read Ottoman Embassy). He's a son of one of the sultan's ministers and he's in England for the Albanian talks. The first time Mary sees him it's like she's never seen a man before. We first see him in a hunting party, where

Thomas carries the tray of food. Dogs seem to want some. If Thomas could get away with it, he'd prefer to sit down and eat the food with the dogs, I think.

* "Is that one mine?" Once again, from the reaction of the participants the audience gets to conclusions; 1. Pamuk is a handsome dude. 2. Mary likes him. 3. Carson wonders if it's alright for "Pamuk to be Thomas"'. 4. Gwen thinks he doesn't look like any Turkish (I wonder how many Turks she knows). 5. Anna thinks he's beautiful. And Thomas knows every little thing that crosses their minds.

[So if you - the viewer- don't think Pamuk is handsome there's something wrong with you. (In later episodes, they try to convince the viewer Lavinia is not beautiful, which, in a way, is even funnier, IMO. But that's for another time)]

Robert calls Pamuk "a treat for the ladies" and "gorgeous Turk". Objectification at its finest (kidding).

In case you wonder why Pamuk doesn't have a valet, it is because his valet remained in London because he doesn't know English, In the meantime, in Pamuk's English there is not the slightest accent. Like, not even a little to show that the guy is a foreigner. But his valet doesn't know English. Why, but because Thomas has to become his valet.

Robert hopes Thomas doesn't mind "helping" Pamuk. "Oh, you know Thomas, milord. He has to have a grumble, but I gather he cheered up when he saw the gentleman.' For one thing, what gentleman? For another, what the bloody hell? "He cheered up when he saw the gentleman"? By now, we, they and the whole world knows Thomas is homosexual. In the closet, but everyone knows. (Except Daisy, because she's what? 13?)

Now, can I say that Thomas is an idiot? Why, yes I can. And Bates' witty remark foreshadows the next scene. Because why not? The epitome of amazing writing!

So, while we are all here wondering what "Turkish culture" is (eunuchs protecting the Sultan's harem? the taboo of homosexuality? the unquestionable eroticism of the hammams?) and why Thomas seems to be so interested in it, Pamuk leads him on, because Pamuk as an aristocrat is a clever bastard and Thomas as the servant (and anachronistically, let's call him gay), is an idiot, who just has to make a move at him so Pamuk can blackmails him to take him to Mary's room and have the story progress. Or it could be that Thomas' experience is solely the Duke and he's as subtle as a thirsty elephant.

As I wrote when I started this, Thomas' sexuality twice now, puts at risk the inhabitants of Downton Abbey. His sexuality is shown as something that leaves him weak and easily taken advantage of. And because it's Thomas (the de facto antagonist by now), it's not exactly a good thing, is it?

"That will teach you to believe what the English say about foreigners. I ought to report you." Pamuk pretended he didn't know how to fix his bowtie, we don't know why he left his valet in London, he was friendly enough and held small talk with Thomas about "Turkish culture". It's as if he [gasp] knew about Thomas' sexuality from before.

This is again where I want to mention that while Thomas is Pamuk’s valet and attempts to flirt with him he seems smaller in heigh than Pamuk, but when he’s advance is denied and is humiliated by Pamuk, he’s in his actual height and taller than Pamuk, despite the fact he seems blank and numb.

Later on, as Robert talks about Mary and her suitors he claims "no one's sensible at her age. Nor should they be. That's our role." I think we can assume Thomas and Mary are roughly the same age. But doesn't the same apply to him too?

Anyway, the only redeeming part in his involvement in Pamuk's seduction of Mary is that he saw her following Pamuk out of the room. If even that. Then again, it had to happen so Mary's story to go forward. Does it change anything for Thomas? He's one of the three people involved. Pamuk dies, Mary has to face the consequences of it for the next two seasons (at least). What about Thomas? What does he learn from this? To stay away from male aristocrats, and not make a move at men until he's certain his affection is reciprocated? Stay away from men in general?

When Anna helped Mary moving the body she considered who they could ask for help. Bates is out of the question, for obvious reasons and "William can't keep a secret and Thomas wouldn't try to." I'm almost looking forward to snarky for no reason Thomas we'll have plenty in the future. Because so far, this second hand embarrassment is nerve breaking.

And, then it's Thomas of course who finds Pamuk dead. Which is followed by some comments about his character. Later on, Robert discusses with Carson about how the maids took the news of Pamuk's death and he says [and I quote] "Don't let the footmen be too coarse in front of them. Thomas likes to show off, but we must have a care for feminine sensibilities. They are finer and more fragile than our own." I am thinking back and try to remember if there was ever any positive comment about Thomas. The answer is no.

I have to be honest here, the first time, some 9 years ago this was the episode I stopped watching Downton Abbey, which is a decision I now regret because I missed watching and being part of the discussion when it was new and exciting. Alas...

"I'll be asking the same question later, so you better have an answer ready."

While Thomas smirks at Ms. O'Brien when she says that, it does make me wonder the kind of relationship they have. "you better have an answer ready" seems to be having an "or else" missing there. So when he does share the story with her the fact that "he doesn't want to get in trouble over that" means that he wants to keep it a secret, both his own involvement and the whole dark affair. Right?

PS I applaud Rob James-Collier for giving an extraordinary depth (and beauty) in a so far one dimensional character.

PS 2 As my lack of knowledge is vast & my horizons are narrow (quoting Jarvis Cocker is a favourite pastime) if anyone can provide info as to what Thomas was babbling about Turkish culture, I will appreciate it.

#Downton Abbey #Thomas Barrow #noteviltexts #1x3 Thomas analysis #Kind of... An attempt #DA watching

16 notes · View notes

writerman · 5 years ago

Note

Prompt: Bard is a Tired™ man and with Sigrid in college he only has to worry about 2 children (he worries a lot tho) and when winter break happens she gets a ride back with this other kid and his boyfriend(Legolas&Gimli). Thranduil wants to meet Sigrid bc Legolas doesn't have many friends and then invites her whole family over, he has a big enough house (too big, he's lonely) to host all of them for get togethers. Bard is reluctant but goes "less for me to clean up" and agrees.

Thank you for this one! It was a nice wholesome prompt and I had fun with Bard and Thran’s interactions.

Please enjoy!

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

“Da, I’m home!”

Bard had heard the door open and assumed Bain and Tilda were home from school and immediately worried as to why they had come back so early, but when he heard the familiar voice of his eldest ring out through the house he set aside his work and moved to greet her.

They met in the hallway and Sigrid threw her arms around Bard her cold nose shocking him slightly. How long had she been outside to be so cold?

“Welcome home, sweetheart, how was the trip home?” They left her luggage in the hallway for the time being as Bard led his eldest to the kitchen to make something hot to drink. Sigrid probably needed something to perk her up after being on the road all day.

“It was fine. It’s much better when you have company, leaving my car back at school was a good call.” Sigrid shrugged off her coat as she chattered about her friends and school work, meanwhile, Bard busied himself with making hot tea for both of them.

“You’ve mentioned Legolas and Gimli a few times if they drove with you here do they live nearby?”

“Yeah, uh, Legolas lives in the nicest part of town and Gimli is related to your friend Thorin. His family moved to town just after he started university so hasn’t been here until now.” Their conversation was cut short when Bain and Tilda stormed the kitchen dusted with snow and sporting red cheeks just like Sigrid had.

Once everyone had settled in and warmed up, dinner was had and everyone went their separate ways, Bard returned to his laptop to continue writing while he had the time off from work.

Being a novelist with kids was hard, and between working at the mechanics, raising kids and writing he hadn’t really found the time to relax or socialise so when he had time off to do those things, well, he didn’t do them.

It was late when Sigrid came to him, she was on the phone to someone but clearly needed his attention regarding whatever was being said on the phone. There was a moment of silence while she listened to the person on the other end of the line before she laughed aloud and shook her head in disbelief.

“Alright, alright, I’ll ask him. Hold on.”

Bard looked up expectantly, hands together rested on his desk as he awaited whatever question his daughter on the tip of her tongue, though he did have a sense of foreboding and was wary of what was coming.

“Da, Legolas said his dad wants to invite us all over for dinner tomorrow, can we go?” She genuinely sounded excited and the pleading tone she used hadn’t surfaced since she was very little so it was difficult to say no.

But, Bard hadn’t heard of Legolas until that day and he was positive he’d never met his dad. Or, had he done the unthinkable and forgotten Sigrid’s friends? She had always had her friends from school come over but he didn’t recall a Legolas…

“Uh… I mean, that is a nice offer, Sig, but I don’t think I’ve ever met your friend or his dad. Wouldn’t that be awkward?” He had to be honest, but that didn’t seem to deter her because his words were responded to with the roll of her eyes.

“That is the point of going over for dinner. You don’t get out much socially, neither does Legs’ dad and apparently, he has been wanting to have people over for dinner for ages. This is perfect timing.” Again, she gave him a hopeful look and Bard relented because why not?

At least he wouldn’t have to do the dishes.

Who was he kidding, he would offer to do them as thanks.

“Fiiine, we’ll go tomorrow. Just give me a time and an address and we’ll be there with bells on or something.” He was half-joking as he got to his feet, the closet needed to be raided for smart yet casual- he didn’t want to look like he was only going to appease his child.

After all, the adult company would be nice. And as fun, as his workmates were at the auto shop he did often wince at their choice of humour. Meeting new people was a top priority while he had the time, he supposed.

There was no further response from Sigrid as he passed her, she had only mouthed a ‘thank you’ before returning to her call.

The next morning at the breakfast table Bard revealed their dinner plans to Tilda and Bain. Neither of them seemed overly enthused about the idea but agreed that dinner anywhere but their own home was going to be interesting at least.

Both of them were in high school and had hoped to use the winter break as a chance to indulge in their favourite pastime of nothing. Bain had mentioned maybe visiting friends but the snowfall dissuaded him for the time being and Tilda just hated being cold so leaving the house wasn’t even an option for her.

Plus, modern technology would allow her to keep up with her friends without ever having to leave the bed.

“Everyone be on your best behaviour tonight, I honestly have no idea what to expect so just- maybe pretend you’re sick if things go belly up, ok?” A moment later Bard had to explain he was joking, well, half-joking but they didn’t need to know that.

A small part of him was excited to meet someone new and just talk about something other than sports and cars. After working at the auto place Bard did have to, eventually, admit to himself that he did not care for sports and it did make some conversation tedious.

When dinner time rolled around everyone piled into the family car and headed out to the fanciest part of town Bard had ever seen. It was the kind of place that had gated communities with gardeners and security. Sigrid had to call her friend to let them in because the security guard really did not like the idea that they were there on an invite.

Legolas was at the door already when they pulled up outside and Sigrid was the first to get out of the car to greet him. They hugged like they hadn’t just seen one another the day before.

The other two took some coaxing to get out but when they did Legolas greeted them cheerfully before turning to Bard, his demeanour didn’t change but he was extremely polite to him.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr Bowman.”

As nice as it was, he didn’t need to be treated so carefully, even if Legolas was brought up to be so polite it wasn’t necessary with him.

“You too, Legolas. Eh, if your father around?” The blonde boy nodded and led everyone inside after realising he had left them stood out on the steps instead of inviting them in. He blushed but no one mentioned it because really it didn’t matter to them.

“He’s in the kitchen down the hall.” Bard was directed to a door at the bottom of the hall but Legolas didn’t stick around long. The kids left him standing alone in the hallway heading to something that sounded vaguely like a games room.

It’s just another adult you can deal with a stranger, Bard tried to bolster himself as he stepped lightly down towards the kitchen, he’s probably really nice.

When he pushed the door open he was greeted with the smell of something decidedly mouthwatering and a sight that almost definitely rivalled it. The blond man was stood before a cutting board of freshly washed vegetables, his hands on his hips as he moved his attention from them to the door.

“Ah, it’s already 6?!” Oh good lord above, that voice was as deep as a roll of thunder and Bard definitely felt the heat of a blush crawl up his neck before he put himself in check and entered the kitchen properly shutting the door behind him as he did so.

“Just a little after actually. Do you- do you need help with anything?” Bard ventured as he moved toward the kitchen island the other man was stood at. He tried to ignore how beautiful he was by not looking directly at him for a few moments.

“It would be so impolite to ask a guest for help but… I must concede and accept defeat. Your help would be wonderful, thank you.” He passed over the vegetables and a knife and Bard go to work on slicing up carrots. “My name is Thranduil, by the way.” It came as more of an afterthought as though it hadn’t mattered what his name was.

“Nice to meet you, I am Bard, father of Sigrid. But I assume you already knew that unless you have more guests on the way?” When Thranduil shook his head Bard felt as though he could relax a little, one parent was fine, unless he had a wife and then two parents were also ok.

“I apologise for inviting you over with such short notice. It seemed the best time to before Christmas and whatnot.” Bard concentrated on slicing up the carrots but he nodded hoping Thranduil would see because for the life of him he could meet his eye.

This man had to be an ex-supermodel or something!

But really he knew he had to answer.

“Aha, it’s no problem. Sigrid seemed really excited that you had invited us all over and she seems quite close with Legolas I don’t think I could have said no even if I’d wanted to.” when he dares to look up Thranduil is smiling at him.

“I admit, it is nice to speak to another adult, I am often here alone so the most conversation I get is over the phone for work or the delivery man.” What a relief it was to hear that Thranduil had the same issues as he did.

When he let out a laugh Thranduil seemed more pleased than shocked.

“I’m sorry, I am in the same boat. I stay at home mostly too, unless the auto shop needs an extra pair of hands. Sometimes the only conversation I get it a one-way argument with our cat.” If there had been tension between them at first it had completely dissipated as they chatted as they prepared dinner.

For anyone looking from the outside in, they appeared as life long friends.

When dinner was nearly ready Thranduil seemed to relax and he offered Bard a drink, Bard readily accepted the beer from the fridge and followed his host to a drawing-room, he took a seat opposite Thranduil by the window.

“I’ll be honest with you, Bard. I invited you all over because I have never really heard Legolas talk about friends before and I wanted to see who this person was and who her family were. Legolas has tremendous issues with opening up enough to make friends, but he is like his father in that respect.

He lost his mother at a young age and while I gave him as much as I could throughout that period in his life, we both knew I was not capable of being both parents.

Sigrid has brought him out of his shell enough that he now has a boyfriend. I can scarcely believe it but I am so very happy and thankful for her friendship to my son.” Realising that he had, perhaps, said too much he gave Bard an apologetic smile before looking away from him and allowing himself to be distracted by the view outside.

“I realise now that it may have been put across to you as though Sigrid was a substitute for his mother, that is not the case. I believe I have said quite enough already.” The pink flush that slowly spread over Thranduil’s face was genuinely delightful but Bard had to put him out of his misery before it got too much.

“Sigrid is a great kid, she lost her mother at a young age too, Legolas probably feels at ease around her because she can relate to his pain. It hurt us all when my wife died, and I admit, Sigrid did end up taking more on than she should have at her age but when I was back on my feet I made sure she got to be a kid.

Also, don’t worry about what you’re saying so much, honestly, I am happy talking about anything as long as it isn’t sports.” They share a laugh at this and the conversation turns to their jobs, Thranduil revealed that he restored antiques and was very enthusiastic when Bard asked him of his methods.

Just seeing him light up when he spoke of his work was a gift and Bard had to remind himself that 1) this man was probably straight 2) he likely believed Bard was too and 3) He was so out of his league AND not interested in him.

It wasn’t long before dinner was served and Thranduil met Bain and Tilda who were very polite in thanking him for their invite to dinner. The kids made him proud that night with the table conversation managing to get a laugh out of both himself and Thranduil.

All in all, Bard found the night a success and even said so to Thranduil when he helped with the washing up while the kids put on a movie in the front room.

“I do not regret my decision to invite you all over. Tonight has been a lot of fun and seeing Legolas so animated was truly amazing. He’s on such a high I may have to scrape him off the ceiling later after you’ve all gone.”

They ended up talking in the kitchen far longer than they had intended but as soon as Bard mentioned he was a writer Thranduil grilled him to within an inch of his life on his books, he was extremely interested and it gave Bard a little thrill.

In the end, though, their conversation had to end and they had to part ways for the night but not before Thranduil made Bard promise to drop by again and soon with the kids.

Sigrid seemed pleased with that evening, even Bain and Tilda had no complaints other than that they had to leave early. This was forgiven when Bard explained that they would probably visit again throughout the winter break as Thranduil was keen to have them over more.

He missed the sly smile Sigrid gave him while he concentrated on driving.

The next time he saw Thranduil he was out running errands and they noticed each other on the busy high street almost immediately. Then again, everyone was noticing Thranduil he really did stand out from the crowd.

“Bard, it’s good to see you. How are you?” Thranduil had easily navigated through the crowds and was now stood before Bard dressed in a long black winter coat and deep purple scarf that was pulled up over his nose and mouth. “Would you like to get coffee?”

There was nothing he wanted more than to escape the crazed throng of Christmas shoppers and so with a quick nod they darted down an alley and to a cosey little bookshop slash cafe with very few customers.

“You’re brave to take on the masses today,” Bard said as they took their seats by the window, the heat radiator by his legs was blessedly hot and he inched himself a little closer to it much to Thranduil’s amusement. “Doing the last bit of Christmas shopping?”

Thranduil was looking at the drinks menu when he responded.

“Hm, no, I was out finding antiques to take home, we’re not exactly big on celebrating Christmas in our home being that there is only the two of us.” It sounded like Thranduil wanted to drop the subject but was too polite to say.

He didn’t know if it was the cosy atmosphere or the sheer giddiness of seeing Thranduil again, because yes he admitted to himself he had a crush on the man, but he went out on a limb when he offered Thranduil and Legolas his home for Christmas.

“You’re welcome to spend the day with us. It would be really nice to have you and Legolas over.”

At first, he didn’t receive a response, just a slow blink of confusion but then a smile spread over Thranduil’s face that could have lit up an entire banquet hall.

“That would be lovely, but would the invitation extend to just myself?” Thranduil began, “I am sure Legolas would have loved to spend Christmas with Sigrid but he is spending the day with Gimli and his family.” The man was embarrassed to admit he would be alone on Christmas that much Bard could tell but he had no reason to feel ashamed.

“Hmm, well, Legolas is the cool one…” Bard feigned a thoughtful expression and only stopped when Thranduil laughed. “If you’re cooler than your kid you can come.”

“I am afraid not but I can bring dessert if that sweetens the deal?”

“Oh, you know how to play me, with your pretty face and your sweet talk.” It had just slipped out and while he was mortified he knew he had to play it off as a joke. Can’t let this man know he was a bisexual disaster and he really didn’t want Thranduil to think he only wanted to hang out with him because he was hot.

“You think I have a pretty face?” The response was smooth and Thranduil’s voice dropped an octave as he near purred with pleasure at the accidental compliment. “Were trying to flirt with me just now?”

Oh no, what am I supposed to say to that? Bard panicked internally, he had absolutely not meant to tell Thranduil that he thought his face was pretty but now they were going into territory Bard was very unfamiliar with.

When was the last time he had actually purposely flirted with anyone?

There was nothing for it, he had to be honest or at least some kind of honest. It was only fair.

“It just slipped out, I didn’t mean to say that but- I mean, well, I do think you’re pretty. Maybe not pretty that seems tame. I uh is it too much to ask you on a date after Christmas even though this is only the second time we’ve met?” He had been reduced to a stuttering mess and it was his own fault but from what he could tell Thranduil found it endearing.

“I would like that very much.”

They spent a long time in silence until their drinks were brought to them.

“You’re still bringing dessert for Christmas, right?”

“I am, along with my pretty face.” Thranduil teased.

It seemed winter break would be just a little more interesting this year.

And Bard had the sneaking suspicion that this had something to do with his very clever daughter and her equally as clever friend.

If they believed that he and Thranduil would be good together, who was he to argue?

Only time would tell.

#Bard the Bowman #Thranduil #The Hobbit #Legolas #writing prompts #This accidentally ended up being 3K words long #Anonymous

19 notes · View notes

itszephoria · 4 years ago

Text

Saw this pop up and your followers ask you which ones they’re interested in. But people don’t really ask much when I post or they don’t ask the ones that might make you feel uncomfortable. And well, honestly I’m so bored that I’ve decided to break all the damn rules and just answer all the questions because I can. *shock horror*

So information dump on the ‘Be nosy’ that popped up in my feed today. If you’re interested.

Be nosy

1. What’s your sexual orientation?

Straight. But maybe for the right woman I could sway but wouldn’t go so far as to call myself bi or bi-curious though.

2. What are you obsessed with right now?

Obsessively obsessing about my health and how to get well and failing it all. Oh and anime movies on Netflix.

3. Ever done any drugs?

I do drugs everyday. But I assume this is referring to illegal. No and was strictly no up until recently. I now take marijuana oil on a regular basis for pain management. Also being stoned/high is not pleasant and I don’t understand why people would enjoy that as a leisurely pastime.

4. What piercings do you want?

I want to get my ears pierced again. Holes have closed up, but currently due to my health that’s not possible. I can’t even enjoy clipons :(

5. How many people have you kissed?

The massive number of 5.

6. Describe your dream home.

It’s tiny in the sense it has all the space I need. A cosy tiny-like home. But not one on wheels, fixed to the ground. And it would be made of all natural materials, stone and wood. It would be unique and resemble something out of a fairy tale. It would sit a beautiful clearing with only nature to view in the distance and all the animals and wildlife would stay well away because I’m pretty much terrified of all it,

7. Who are you jealous of?

Healthy, painfree people. I am jealous of past me who didn’t realise how lucky she was and miss her.

8. What’s your favorite show to binge?

I don’t binge any show on repeat. I’d rather look for a new show to watch or enjoy, there are so many. The last shows I binged in two days was Queen’s Gambit and Emily in Paris.

9. Do you watch porn?

Yep. But struggle with it because it’s overdramatic, unrealistic and would kill or someone to make porn with a decent storyline with people that can act.

I prefer to read it if I’m honest or maybe just write it for myself.

10. Do you have a secret sideblog?

Sort of? More like my other one I used I was known for all my slash writings in F1. But now I just hang out here.

11. If you could teleport anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?

No where. The world is riddled with co-vid and well, I’m probably in one of the safest countries and I’m at risk of death should I catch it. So I’ll stay here in my safe bubble.

12. What’s one of your fantasies?

I wake up tomorrow and I’m not me. I wake up and I can take a deep breath without gasping for air, I wake up in no pain, I wake up and my body isn’t terribly scared, I wake up and can have a ‘normal’ life.

13. Do you have/would you get your nipples pierced?

Nope and no desire too. Won’t that just hurt?

14. How would you spend a million dollars?

I’d by that dream house I described, set everything up to be self sufficient. Pay and travel to try every cure available for my diseases. And then bank the rest and live off interest. Or maybe donate it. I don’t want money and I don’t really want a lot of things.

15. Are you in a relationship?

Yep and it’s a struggle and am constantly fighting to prove it’s worth continuing. Oh and that’s a relationship with myself.

16. Do you follow porn blogs?

No.

17. Are you angry with anyone right now?

No, I suppose it’s more disappointed and let down by people more than angry. I’m working everyday on letting it go but it’s not easy.

18. What tattoos do you want?

I have always wanted one, but have never found something that I really loved and haven’t been imaginative enough to create something unique. The older I get though, I’m not sure I want one. I did for the longest time though think about getting a Ferrari tattooed on my inner wrist, but pleased I never did that. I don’t love the sport or Ferrari enough anymore to want a permanent reminder of that.

19. If you could change your name, would you? What would you change it to?

I am changing name actually. Hoping to action that in the next two weeks. I would have done it earlier but they closed the borders. I have a dutch sir name that has two words. It confuses every one, systems don’t get it, it has caused issues with plane tickets. And well I’ve decided no more and am dumping a portion of it.

20. What is something you’re obsessed with?

This is a duplicate. Skipping.

21. Describe your best friend.

When you meet her for the first time she can be a little crazy and wild, and she kind of scared at me first because she’s so unlike me. But as you got to know her, the *real* her she doesn’t let people see, you realise how kind and soft she is, and she’s the most empathic person I have known. She gives so much of herself to everyone, thinks so little of herself and her needs because she’s one of the most selfless people I know. I love her more than most of my family and would do anything for her.

22. Tag someone you think is hot.

Is this followers? Uh most I don’t know what they look like? I assume they’re all hot!

23. Who are five of your favorite bands/musical artists?

Don’t have any really. My music is varied and is based on my mood and really changes around. And with most bands, I generally lean towards one or two songs. This is one of those questions I really struggle with whenever I see it. Will say however, have been enjoying The Beatles recently and a bit of old school stuff.

24. What are three places you want to travel?

Japan. Norway. Canada.

25. Describe your perfect Friday night.

Generally hanging out with people I like. Enjoying a good wine, some cheese, either playing some board game or dungeons and dragons, or watching a really good movie. Good company makes any night a good night.

26. What’s your favorite season?

Autumn. One because I think it’s neglected as a choice and every season should be loved, and two because I love the colours of autumn and the colours associated with autumn.

27. What’s your pet peeve?

I’m sure I have a heap of them, but currently it’s people that have an issue with you and instead of being an adult and talking to you about them choose to silence and blank you. I’m so tired of it, I’ve quit being peacemaker in those situations, those people are no longer worthy in my book.

28. Who is the funniest person you know?

Uh... I don’t think anyone I know is super funny. Friends and family all have a good sense of humor. But out of my circle of life people I’m always told I’m the funny one, which I find the biggest joke ever.

29. What’s the most overrated movie?

Can not think of anything off the top of my head. I will say if I think a movie is getting too much hype I refuse to watch it, whether all the reviews are raving or not. It’s why I didn’t watch Harry Potter for like ten years or any of the new Star Wars movies. I just refuse to be apart of all the hype and jump on bandwagons.

30. Tag someone you want to talk to but have been too shy to message.

I’d love to talk to everyone. I’m shy to start any conversations to be honest and I think all the people I talk to regularly were the first to message me, and I love them for it.

31. Do you like paper books or ebooks better?

100% love an old fashioned paper book. The texture of the paper. The smell of a book. That being said, I don’t think I’ve picked up a proper book to read in years. I live in fan fiction more than anything or am busy writing myself.

32. If you could live in a fictional world, what world would you pick?

Any of the disney worlds, anything from the past, or verging on fantasy like. I want a simpler time not full of technology which I grow to hate more each day. The older I get the more I’m pretty sure I’ve been born in the wrong decade.

33. If money was no object, what would your wardrobe be like?

I’d build the perfect wardrobe capsule. Everything would be of high quality, not necessarily brand name and all the clothes would be sourced from ethical businesses or be handmade.

I like classic pieces, love the fashion of the 50′s and 60s and while stylish it would be comfortable to wear and everything could be worn in public (sorry comfy tracky pants).

34. What’s your coffee order?

There ain’t no coffee order. I don’t drink it. Sorry @leoni-speedyf1 I know how addicted you are to it, happy to buy you anything you like though :P

35. Do you have a crush on anyone?

In real life? No one.

36. Do you still have feelings for any of your exes?

Not romantic. I have feelings in that I hope they’re doing well, achieving what they want and they’re all happy. I didn’t have any ‘bad’ breakups and all my relationships ended very amicably.

37. Have any tattoos?

No. See above for more on this.

38. Do you drink?

Rarely. Can’t with medication and condition. But on occasion I do enjoy a good glass of red. Pinot Noir is my preference.

39. Are you a virgin?

Nope.

40. Do you have a crush on any of your mutuals?

Not in a romantic way? The ones I talk to regularly I love immensely though.

41. How many followers do you have?

42. Describe the hottest person you know.

Uh all the men I know I am not attracted to. Probably a good thing as they’re either family or partnered with a friend or family member.

43. What’s your guilty pleasure?

Can’t think of anything. I try not to feel guilt for anything I enjoy to be honest, whether it’s food or an activity. Life is too short for that.

44. Do you read erotica?

Yep. Even write it.

45. What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?

It was a few years back. I met this guy online and we went to the city and spent most of that time just strolling next to the river for our first meet up. Why was it the worst date ever? Well it wasn’t the location that’s for sure.

The guy had two kids, and I’m a firm believer all parents have favourites, though I have yet to meet a parent that will voice that aloud. This guy, had no qualms with telling me about this favourite kid, and that wouldn’t be a problem if didn’t spend just as much putting down his younger son. It kind of left me reeling and wondering how his son felt if his dad didn’t hide just how much he didn’t like him as a person. The kid was four and the reason his dad didn’t like him was because he didn’t like bikes.

And so the guy was a bmx rider so he spent the rest of the time on our walk just pointing out all the tricks he could do. He didn’t ask about me, only talked about himself. It was also lunch time and assumed we would get something to eat together, but nope, no food was offered. And when I suggested to get something to drink because it was so hot and we’d been out in the sun for like an hour, he just took me to a subway and told me to get a drink and waved me to the line. No offer to join me, no offer to pay (which doesn’t bother me btw, but this was capping off a terrible day), no offer to get food.

I was so happy to get out of there. Didn’t speak to him again once I had left.

46. How many people do you follow?

I currently follow 59 people. I don’t follow anyone that creates drama, and try and follow only people that post about F1 as that’s all I use tumblr for now.

47. If you could marry any celebrity, who would you pick?

Either Sebastian Vettel or Ryan Reynolds. Both are married though, so I don’t think that’s going to turn into a reality anytime soon.

48. Describe your ideal partner.

I want someone that shares the same core values as me. Doesn’t want kids, isn’t super religious (grew up in a cult like religion so I avoid it now), is on the minimalist side and isn’t someone that needs new things things all the time or is desperate to replace something the moment they deem it out of date. Someone that doesn’t live their life on social media. Someone that prefers simple things, someone who is kind and giving, and someone that truly loves me - and it’s the last part that I struggle with finding more than anything with all the guys I have dated.

I am currently not looking for a partner, I am not in a place for a relationship and am fully focused on myself. And I am very content with that decision.

49. Who do you text the most?

Currently my bestie.

50. What’s your favorite kind of weather?

Clear blue skies and a warm day to enjoy the sun. But there are times when I simply love the rain, hearing it on the room, watching it fall endlessly and knowing that everything will be green from it.

#all about me #long read #tried to be open and honest

2 notes · View notes

the-bounce-back · 5 years ago

Text

THE CONFIDENCE CHRONICLES IV - CONFIDENCE IN YOUR CRAFT

This is post 4/5 of my “Confidence Chronicles” series, in which I discuss the mindsets, actions and thought processes I’ve applied to build/rebuild my confidence in different aspects of my life. The goal of these 5 posts is for you readers to be able to apply relevant points to your own insecurities in order to combat them, and hopefully aid in building your own confidence over time.

_____________

Oooh, check me out with the post consistency. That’s how you know it’s a new year and decade, baby!

I’d like to start off by saying that I have been excited to write this post in particular for quite a long while now - literally since about July last year. However, my life was a bit of a mess at the time, and I didn’t want to put the previous post on hold, so it had to wait until now.

Maybe this was for the best, though - this post is going to be about confidence in your craft and the projects you put out into the world. Although I was literally planning on writing this post around 7 months ago, I can honestly say that my confidence levels in my own projects have never been higher than right now, so writing about it now makes more sense. See, procrastination helps!

Anyways. To kick this post off, I want to take some time to acknowledge my many talents. Besides my *impeccable* blogging skills, not many people know that I’ve dabbled in acting and drumming in the past, and I am currently also writing a book (more about that in a future post) and getting back into interior design, learning new languages and drawing. These are my current favourite pastimes, and what I say to people whenever I’m asked what my “hobbies” are.

The reason why I’m sharing this is because I want people to understand that unless you are vocal about your passions, how the hell are other people meant to be able to support and appreciate your work? It goes without saying that bigging yourself up and showing off your talents can feel extremely vain if you are a naturally reserved/humble person - but my hope is that this post will teach you how to be more confident in your work.

I am very excited to share this post because I am blessed to have friends of what feels like millions of different talents. Actors, musicians, podcasters, poets, youtubers, models, MUA’s, chefs, hair stylists… the list goes on, and it makes me so proud to see that they are all in their respective creative bags right now - so this post is somewhat dedicated to them as well if they ever have feelings of insecurity in their talents.

I will be talking about what I have found to be the most important factors of being confident in your creativity, not letting criticism (constructive or otherwise) make you want to give up, and getting over the initial fear of putting something you’ve created out into the world, because let’s face it; sharing something you’ve created can be incredibly vulnerable. You are essentially sharing a private aspect of yourself for the world to critically analyse, and it’s normal to find this daunting - however, it’s all about how you handle it.

Based on my own experiences and anonymous examples from my friends, I will try my best to explain how best to develop a deep sense of confidence and pride in your creative endeavours.

1. Ensure that you are doing your craft out of passion.

Regardless of if you are creating content solely for your own enjoyment or to capitalise on it, I definitely think that it is imperative that what you are doing fills you with joy and that you are excited to do the activity. This may sound like a no-brainer, but I feel like I see a lot of people nowadays forcing themselves to pursue certain endeavours due to influences from social media, or are forcing themselves to capitalise off a hobby they used to love, but now hate because of the added pressure of having to create content/products for the target audience.

This is partly why I am apprehensive about ways of monetising this blog - or any of my other creative projects, for that matter. I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t crossed my mind, but my biggest fear is starting to resent an activity I once loved because of external pressure such as deadlines, not having full creative control and having to “tread carefully” with the messages I put out, if that makes sense.

Pursuing a hobby for the sole purpose of others is never going to make you feel that what you’re creating is good. Constantly trying to please the masses as opposed to just doing whatever makes you feel happy is always going to make you feel anxious and scared of the reception, I think. Instead, I’d suggest that you evaluate what is more important to you: approval or enjoyment. If it’s the former, then by all means… keep forcing yourself to pursue hobbies that may or may not give you recognition. Who knows - maybe you’ll blow up and get the sponsorships, money and fans that you want, and I don’t even mean this in a petty or sarcastic way. If that’s what you set out to do, then I’d be very happy for you.

However, I reiterate: pursuing a hobby for anyone other than yourself runs a great risk of becoming a burden in the long run, as well as a risk of losing your self confidence when you don’t get the attention or accolades that you believe that you deserve.

I think I have an issue with the above because it relates back to past posts in which I’ve discussed humans’ desperation to be approved and acknowledged by their peers. It alludes to a deeply rooted insecurity in yourself, your abilities and your belief in said abilities - I only say this because this literally used to be me before deciding to sack everyone off and do whatever the f*ck I wanted.

Personally, my dream scenario would be for people to find a hobby that they are truly passionate about and that they can capitalise off in a way that doesn’t restrict their creative process and that is on their own terms. Because, let’s be honest - receiving money and accolades doing something that you truly love is a major confidence boost… regardless of if the money and recognition motivates you or not. But the bottom line is that your confidence in your creativity should not be rooted in anything else but your own joy.

2. Appoint a/some constructive critic(s).

It goes without saying that true confidence comes from ~*wItHiN*~, but there is nothing wrong with looking to friends and/or family for opinions and support. In fact, I’d even go as far as saying that having someone who understands your vision and wants you to achieve your goals is a must.

This someone is a crucial part of the creative process, because they will ideally motivate (aka bully...exactly like the gif above) you into meeting the deadlines you set for yourself, give you honest feedback and give you a kick up the arse on the days where you don’t really feel like doing anything. They will remind you of the reason why you started your project when you feel like giving up - and having someone like this in your corner that unconditionally believes in you is a massive ego boost.

Something that’s even better than having one person in your corner is having multiple people in your corner. And something that’s even better than having multiple people in your corner, is having multiple people in your corner that are also creative and have their own projects going on. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a group of people with the exact same hobby as you (although this definitely helps too!), but surrounding yourself with people that are also making things happen for themselves gives you a beautiful sense of community. I can only speak for myself, but forming friendships with other creatives has definitely helped me come out of my shell. I still remember when I first “pitched” my blog idea to my friends - thinking that I’d get a lukewarm response (because let’s face it… a lot of people unfortunately don’t enjoy reading anymore) - but the positive feedback and support I got is what gave me the confidence to actually start. And when I was on my hiatus, I’d be harassed for updates on when my next post was coming, and brutally dragged when I didn’t post on the days I had promised. The same goes for their projects as well - it was only recently that we had to bully someone for not releasing their podcast when they said they would.

Another aspect of having a group of critics that believe in you is the motivation you get from seeing them putting their plans into action. Honestly. Seeing my friends’ work ethics and how hard they grind makes me want to be better - not only to keep up, but for myself in general.

The bottom line is that although you don’t need people in your corner to get started, it is definitely a major asset to have. You should be confident that your work is great by your own accord, but getting it confirmed - or receiving feedback for improvements - is just another key to improving your confidence.

3. Do not be afraid of vulnerability (if your craft requires you to do so).

Believe me… I get it. Putting out something you’ve created for the entire planet to see can be incredibly daunting, especially if a lot of emotion has gone into it. It feels like you’re putting a very dainty and vulnerable part of you out on a perilous battlefield, out in the open where nowhere to take cover. This is where a lot of us (myself included) tend to overthink sharing our work, or in some cases chose not to share it at all. If only you guys knew how many draft posts have ended up in the bin because I was worried about being judged (they’re being revived though, fear not!)... it’s mad how much fear and anxiety can hold you back from being great.

This is where it’s important to understand the power of being able to be vulnerable, honest and open through your selected medium. As cringe as it sounds, opening your heart to the world and letting people see your insecurities, unresolved issues and things you’d much rather hide leads to the situations power over you significantly diminishing. And the more you do it, the closer you get to the situation no longer being able to hurt you anymore - because once it’s out in the open, nothing or no one can actually tell you sh*t. Once you get to the point of no longer caring who knows what your internal struggles are, I promise that you feel insanely confident and empowered, because you are no longer living in fear.

Another beautiful aspect of vulnerability in relation to self-confidence is that ever so often, you get to hear that your work has genuinely helped, inspired or motivated someone. I know I said that validation and approval from others isn’t the best reason for pursuing a hobby, but this is different in the sense that you’re doing your thing regardless of if you get positive feedback for it - the recognition is truly just a bonus, but a contributor to increased confidence all the same.

Hopefully, utilising these three methods will make you feel a great deal more confident about your creative projects/side hustles for the following reasons:

You’re doing this project primarily because it brings you joy.

The way I see it, taking time out of your day to do something that makes you genuinely happy is an act of self-care and incredibly empowering, in the sense that we are choosing to not be distracted and led astray by the infinite amount of garbage media that is constantly in our faces due to social media. Being able to make time on a project - whatever it may be - that brings you happiness and engages your right brain is a massive blessing in our age group, as we take on more and more responsibilities that eat up our time and drain us.

A cute metaphor for this could be that your day to day routine is a desert. Going to work/uni, doing work/uni related projects, doing chores around the house and all your other responsibilities is walking around for hours in the sun, making us drained, famished and parched. Our hobbies should be like a much-welcomed oasis, providing us with water, food, shade and somewhere to recharge (joy, inspiration, motivation and a well-deserved break for the brain).

Okay, that was a bit cringe. But you get the point - allowing ourselves to have something in this hard life to enjoy is a confidence boost in itself.

After paying attention to the feedback you get, you’ll become even more skilled at your craft over time.

It’s no conundrum that experience equals expertise, and that constantly improving your creative process in accordance with feedback from someone you know understands your vision will make you more sure of yourself in the long run.

Think about it: if you’re already doing something you genuinely love, and you have a trusted person/trusted people in your life to turn to for genuine opinions, how can you not win?

By “winning”, I mean your work getting progressively better over time, combined with a feeling of security and support from your peers. I mean becoming more emotionally, mentally, spiritually and maybe even financially (if you’re so inclined) stable through doing something you genuinely love. The prize is peace of mind, feeling supported, and full creative control of your work - and I honestly can’t think of anything more satisfying.

You’re taking control of your doubts and insecurities and flipping them into assets.

For me, this is a no brainer. What could possibly be more confidence-boosting than overcoming insecurities and being able to use them to your advantage in your creative endeavours? It’s literally what my entire blog is based upon, and writing about things that have caused me a great deal of pain in the past has ended up being a very therapeutic and cathartic experience, as well as extremely empowering - in the sense that I don’t allow certain situations have control over me anymore. I can now focus on continuing to heal, and help others who may come across my work in the meantime.

Having a personal project that challenges you to face and overcome your insecurities is something that I think everyone should try to have. It might get hard at times and extremely tempting to quit, but once your work is ready for the world to see I promise you that you’ll get a boost in confidence.

By keeping these three points in mind, I can pretty much guarantee that you’ll feel infinitely more confident in your creative projects. Knowing that you’re putting your entire heart into a project that you are sharing with the whole world, knowing that you have supporters that you can trust with honest opinions and feedback and knowing that you’ve stayed true to yourself regardless of if the norm enjoys is an ideal state of mind to be in.

On a final note, I want to reiterate that there is no “wrong” or “right” way to have a hobby and gain confidence from it. This post is just general guidelines that really helped me come out of my shell creatively, and I’d like to think it’d work for others too. However, you know best how comfortable you are with exposing your work and what your existing confidence levels are like, so please proceed accordingly (and don’t blame me if things go tits up because you decided not to take the time to listen to yourself!).

Love,

Liv

#selfhelp #selflove #goals #empowerment

2 notes · View notes

ronniesshoes · 7 years ago

Text

Keep Yourself Alive

It’s ten past nine, Tuesday evening, and despite the meeting having begun not twenty minutes ago, the table is a right mess already; littered with old magazines and library books he doubts will be returned anytime soon, Freddie’s sketches and scribbles, Roger’s Macbook, and a knocked over jar of glitter that was already there when Brian got home. He supposes Roger and John might have something to do with it, because there’s a fair amount of glitter in the bassist’s hair, and a speck just beneath Roger’s left eye.

“Okay, so, stagewear,” Freddie says, holding up his index finger as if about to start counting, and Brian, having been designated as scribe, starts scribbling, “and, no matter if we get signed or not, ideas on how to promote the next album. Personally I think we might as well go full glam, because as of now it seems like we are unsure of what’s going on ourselves. Anything else?”

John’s eyes drift towards the ceiling, and Roger, brow furrowed, is drumming a pen against his thigh. Brian reaches out to stop him.

“Well?”

“The website is still not up and running,” Roger begins slowly, having now begun to draw small triangles on the thigh of his jeans, “and we should probably talk about who’s in charge of social media as well, because as of now, the few people who actually write to us may never get back a reply.”

Freddie nods. “Right, yes, the banner is almost done, and you’re right about social media. Brian, what about your friend, what’s his name?”

“Daniel. He promised to get back to me before next week,” he says, making a mental note to do a follow up tomorrow.

“Good. Let’s start with stagewear, shall we?”

Brian drops his head in hand, attempting to hide his smile. Dressing his band for concerts and photo shoots is no doubt one of Freddie’s favourite pastimes, right up with researching Oscar Wilde and trying to persuade them to get another cat.

“I like these,” John says, holding up two of Freddie’s sketches of different batwing costumes which he has been examining, “on you two, at least. I’m thinking it would look really good on stage.”

“I looked at some of Zandra Rhodes’ designs,” Freddie says, reaching for one of the books, “obviously she does a lot with colour, but look at this wedding dress, for example. Imagine very large sleeves with pleats like that, how great a visual effect we could achieve. I’m sure I could ask Mary to make something like that.”

“I think it’s great, it goes well with the whole black and white theme we’ve got going,” Roger says.

“So we’re keeping that?”

“Didn’t they wear lots of colours back then?” Brian wonders aloud, trying to recall the pictures Roger and Freddie have shown him on various occations.

“They did, but to be perfectly honest, things like coloured satin and sequins and the like looks rather cheap to me,” Freddie says with distaste.

“Basically we’re taking the best of glam and ignoring the things we don’t like,” Roger says, tipping his chair back.

“Yes, but what I don’t understand is why we haven't had a glam revival yet,” Freddie says, sitting up straighter, “today’s rock scene is so ... insipid; really, it’s the perfect time to spice it up a bit of flamboyance, to provoke and to provide a bit of fun in a time where music has sounded pretty much the same for the past three decades. And, I mean, I understand the importance of the movement back in the 70s, but most of the performers who dressed up and did the whole androgynous thing were straight men, and now we have the opportunity to create a space where actual queer artists can express themselves. I mean, how often do you hear someone like Jobriath mentioned?”

Despite the rhetorical question, Roger shrugs, expression bemused. John purses his lips.

“So obviously we’ll have to find a new drummer,” Brian says, lazily adding to his stick figure portrait of only drummer present, already wearing a hat atop significantly longer locks and dressed in a tutu.

Roger opens his mouth to retort, but Freddie is quicker. “Don’t worry, dear, a dash of glitter and a haircut like Brian Connolly, and no one will notice!”

That comment makes John snorts into the crook of his elbow, and Roger looks like he's not sure whether to feel indignant or to laugh.

“The token straight,” Brian continues with a sigh, merely laughing when Roger socks him in the arm. Ziggy, disturbed by the commotion, hops down from the armchair he’s been sleeping in for the past hours, and starts rubbing his head against Freddie’s leg until the singer starts petting him.

“We can’t really go fully glam with short hair, though,” John points out, and they all fall silent, exchanging tentative glances.

“I suppose it’s not uncommon to see guys with long hair anymore,” Roger says after a while, “I do have a some trouble imagining it, though.”

He’s not the only one; every long haired guy Brian can recall seeing has been a whole other type, one he doubts any of them fits, especially not if they are going to adopt the glam style, which in and of itself is way out of Brian’s comfort zone. It may be less of a trouble for Freddie, who already owns a fair few pieces from that era, and generally dresses more or less glam already, if perhaps a bit more subtly, and Roger, who gladly lets Freddie dress him, and whose style spans from pretentious art kid to burnt out rock n’ roll star to a walking Adidas ad, and that despite not having engaged in any kind of sports since leaving Cornwall as far as Brian is aware.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Freddie says, “we should give it a go.”

“As long as I’m allowed to keep my hair as it is,” Brian says, suppressing a grimace at the thought of himself with long hair.

“What, no! If we’re all growing our hair out, you’ll have to do it as well,” Roger protests.

“Not with curly hair," he says, going for patience but finding it hard to, "I’ll end up with an afro, and I doubt that’s the look we’re trying to achieve.”

“It looked fine on Bolan!”

“Don’t know who he is, and it doesn’t matter anyway, I won’t do it,” he says, ignoring Roger’s outraged expression. He reaches for his Mac, punches the keyboard buttons, and shoves the screen into Brian’s face, showing a pretty faced guitarist who indeed works both long and curly hair.

“See?” Roger urges, a slightly manic expression on his face, “and Jimmy Page! You practically drool every time you see a picture of him, how can you doubt that curls and long hair don’t go together?”

“I would’ve phrased it differently, but I have to agree with Roger, dear, almost everyone wore their hair long in the 70s, and no doubt it will look good on you, too.”

“John and Freddie have curly hair as well, you know,” Roger offers, like he’s being helpful.

“Not the same,” he says, but when even John’s usually neutral expression shifts just slightly enough to convey his opinion on the matter, Brian knows he's lost. “All right, fine. I’ll complain, though, and if it looks stupid, I’ll cut it short again.”

He pointedly ignores the way Roger’s face fills with glee and Freddie looks pleased, opting instead to exchange glances with John, who merely lifts one eyebrow a fraction, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Right,” he says, looking down at his notepad, “promotion?”

“Yes, right,” Freddie says, pausing for a second as if about to reveal some no doubt grand, but probably a bit mad, idea, a slightly worrying glint in his eyes, “I’m thinking a nude photo shoot for—”

“You’re thinking a what?” Brian interrupts, certain he’s heard wrong. Roger also looks uncertain, John plain uncomfortable.

“A nude photo shoot, of course,” Freddie repeats, like it’s no big deal.

Brian hides his face in his hands, wondering not for the first time how he's survived living with these maniacs for this long.

“I think Stones did that for Sticky Fingers though,” Roger says, and Brian looks up to see him already tapping on his keyboard.

“What?” Freddie exclaims, looking mildly outraged, “let me see.”

“No, sorry, it’s only Mick,” he replies, handing his laptop to Freddie, “I remembered it as all of them.”

“Well, I’m thinking more along the lines of Performance, now you mention him. Only less hippie and more stylish, you know.”

“We still haven’t seen it, Fred,” Brian says, because it’s not the first time Freddie has referred to a weird art film, and especially Performance he has talked about a lot for a movie he claims to hate.

“You don’t have to,” Freddie says dismissively, “you wouldn’t like it anyway, but here, look.” He turns the laptop so they can all see the picture of Mick Jagger, seemingly naked, reclining on a large bed. A moment later, Roger gets up and disappears into the kitchen.

“I want us all in the nude, sprawled on a large bed with expensive sheets and a bottle of champagne,” Freddie continues, raising his voice enough for Roger to hear.

“So just an ordinary day, then?” Roger asks as he return with more beers, making John laugh and Freddie hide his teeth.

“And why exactly is it that we have to be naked for this to be glam?” he asks after a moment. John, newly-brought beer can to his lips, shoots him a glance, and Brian thinks he looks relieved.

“It’s provocative, and that’s all I’m about, dear, you know that. God knows that it shouldn’t be, but here we are. Obviously you don’t have to be naked, it just has to look like you are.”

"Fred, I don't—"

“Oh, I know, Fleetwood Mac definitely had a picture taken where they were all in bed,” Roger interrupts.

“Roger,” Freddie says, tone saccharine, but when the drummer turns to look at him, he chucks a piece of crumbled up paper at him, “shut up.”

“But we’re trying to sell music, Fred, not ourselves,” Brian tries to reason, “I know you want us to be outrageous, but to be honest I can’t really see the point.”

“Of course we’re trying to sell ourselves,” Roger says, looking up from where he’s been inspecting the tattoo on his right wrist, “that’s the whole point, isn’t it? I mean, no one’s asking you to get your cock out on stage, but I agree with Freddie that it’s possible to do this with taste. Personally I think it’s a good idea.”

“You just want an excuse to show off,” Brian grumbles, annoyed that the two of them always gang up on him, “like we don’t see more than enough of you already.”

“Brian,” Freddie warns.

“I don’t— what are you talking about?”

“Forget it,” he says, working hard to keep his voice level, “if you really want to, I suppose there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Well,” Roger says after a beat, looking uncertain, “what do you think, John?”

“The four of us sprawled naked on a big bed might be a bit much,” he allows, “but I don’t see anything wrong with having pictures taken from the waist and up, for example. It comes down to the photographer as well. Did you have anyone in mind, Fred?”

“I thought maybe Tim, he’s been doing lots of weird art films lately, I’m sure he would be happy to do it if he’s not busy.”

Brian nods along with the others and quickly scans the bullets on his pad. “Should we keep our music on Soundcloud or extend it to Youtube as well? We all know Roger’s opinion on the matter, but what do you two say?

“It might be easier to share new songs on Facebook,” John says, “it looks neater with actual videos, but unless we keep it up to date and reply when people comment it just looks unprofessional and has the potential to do more harm than good.”

“John is right, and Roger mentioned it earlier as well, we need become better at checking up on social media,” Freddie agrees.

Brian caps and uncaps his pen. “Any volunteers?”

“As long as you check up on it once in awhile as well, I suppose I wouldn’t mind too much,” Roger offers.

“Great,” Freddie says, “now, does everyone have an outfit for the concert at King's College?”

“I don’t,” John says. Brian dips a finger in some of the glitter still on the table and carefully inspects it.

“Come down to the stall Friday, we’ll find you something,” Freddie promises. “Roger, I’ve seen yours already, Brian? Not gonna show up in one of those awful shirts, are you? I age ten years every time you wear one in public.”

Brian rolls his eyes, about to say a thing or two about some of the singer’s more outlandish clothes, but he holds his tongue. “No, Fred.”

He looks at his notepad again. “So I’ll call Daniel, Freddie will talk to Tim, Roger is responsible for social media, and John ... please turn it down a notch with Bonnie Tyler while you shower. It’s a bit disconcerting.”

“I’ll try to keep it down,” John offers, a smile tugging on his lips when Roger lets out a snort of laughter.

"If that's all, I'm off to bed," Freddie says, pushes his chair back, and stands. He pauses for a moment, looks at the table, and adds, "I hope this mess is gone tomorrow", before he disappears into their bedroom, Ziggy close on his heels.

♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛

It’s completely dark outside when he stumbles out of bed some hours later, half asleep still, but he barely registers it, his only thought revolving around the pressure on his bladder. It takes lots of fumbling before he finds the light switch, and when he does, the sudden light is too bright, and he has to screw his eyes shut again. He somehow succeeds in shoving down his pyjama bottoms and pushing up the toilet seat without ever opening his eyes, but he doesn’t trust himself enough to have a go at it and end up missing the bowl, and so he tentatively opens one eye, inwardly cursing himself for drinking those extra beers.

It is as he’s making his way back that he notices faint noises coming from the living room, and despite his desire to get back to bed as quickly as possible, he stops to push open the door to blearily peek in. Roger is there—or at least his blond head of messy hair is—huddled up in a corner of the couch watching A Clockwork Orange for the umpteenth time. Brian steps into the room, and Roger turns, startled by the creak of the floorboards, before his face quickly morphs into a smile.

“Why aren't you in bed?” he asks, and Brian waves a hand towards the bathroom with a grunt, too tired to form a proper sentence. Roger seems to understand, but there’s an amused smile playing on his lips. He decides to ignore it, and instead sinks onto the couch, his whole body melting into the soft, worn cushions.

He thinks about staying here for a while, because the couch really is soft, and conveniently enough he’s already sitting on it, whereas his bed is in another room, and now his eyes are falling shut anyway. If only he had something to support his head on, because the back rest really is too low and, weird, it never struck him how bony it feels, not at all like the rest of it, and ...

“Wanna lie down?” At the sound of Roger’s voice he looks up, and, wow, he has got a lot of hair. Finally registering the question, he lifts his head from where it appears to have settled on Roger’s shoulder, and nods, once, before shifting back to lie down with his head in the drummer’s lap. Only for a moment, though, then he is going back to bed. Said moment passes, and then Roger's hand comes down to thread through his hair, and no, he is definitely okay with staying here. For a while he tries to focus on the movie, but his eyes are heavy and stinging and keep falling shut. The scenes from the movie are in his head, created by memory and sounds, and even though Roger's thigh could've been softer, there are certainly less comfortable places to rest. If only it wasn't so cold, he thinks, and he really does want to open his eyes and go back to bed, it’s just so, so far away. Roger shifts underneath him then and removes his hand, and Brian tries to communicate his displeasure with a small noise in the back of his throat. A moment later, something warm and soft is draped over his body, and Roger's hand returns, lightly massaging his scalp with calloused fingertips. A minute or less, for sure, later, and Roger's voice, soft and gentle albeit somewhat distant, sounds, and then he's manipulated into first sitting up and then standing, and with the blanket around his shoulders he is dimly aware of the fact that he is being lead into his room, too dazed to even realise he is walking, before he falls into bed with a warm sort of gratefulness. ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛

The next morning, early but not too early in case he’s sleeping in, he calls Daniel. Brian doesn’t actually know the guy, except that he attends the same course as Brian, and that he has a knack for setting up websites. He has been very sweet and helpful about it all, but they haven’t even discussed a price yet, and the whole thing makes Brian stressed and unsure and a bit nauseous. When he gets the answering machine, it’s with equal measures of relief and exasperation that he throws his phone on his bed and gathers his books to finish his assigned readings. The kitchen is blissfully quiet, Freddie having left half an hour ago and John and Roger most certainly not up yet. It’s with some envy that he thinks of this, because his body is stiff and heavy from lack of sleep, but before readings and phone calls and his afternoon lecture are well over, he can’t justify going back to bed.

Two hours later and halfway done, he is just contemplating whether to take a break when the door at the far end of the living room opens and the rhythm section appears, both bleary-eyed in bare legs and jumpers and with their hair mussed from sleep, John wearing two different socks as usual and Roger only wearing one. “Good morning,” Roger says around a yawn, even though it’s closer to noon. Still, they’re up unusually early considering. “Morning,” he replies, “you’re up early.” “The bloody neighbours started having sex again,” Roger complains, flicking on the kettle and reaching for two cups. “They’re pensioners,” John explains, “suppose they don’t hear very well.” “They could at least close the window. It’s november, bloody freezing anyway,” Roger says, dumping tea bags into the cups, “can barely look them in the eye when I meet them. You want tea as well?” “Please,” he says, handing over his empty mug before returning to his work. “Do you actually colour code your stuff?” Roger asks a while later, so close to his ear it makes him jump. “It’s what I imagine Freddie does because he thinks it looks pretty.” “He does,” John confirms. “I don’t do it because it looks pretty, I do it because it helps me stay organized. You should try it sometime,” he says pointedly. “What, being organized?” Roger yawns, “nah, never works. I find comfort in chaos.” “Unless you’re late and can’t find your earphones,” John says, filling up a bowl with granola until it’s almost overflowing. “Or your phone,” Brian adds. “Okay, but everyone loses their phone once in awhile, that doesn’t mean I don’t know exactly where every other thing in my room is.” “Under your bed,” John says. “Exactly,” Roger says, pointing his spoon at John like he’s the one who really gets it. Which he probably is, because he’s not much better. He tries to return to his readings once again, but the two of them together make for a pretty big distraction, even when he does his best to stay out of the conversation. He picks up the tea Roger made him and reads the same line over and over again until his head is swimming and he starts thinking about everything on his to-do list. “Are you up for practise later?” John asks around a spoonful of granola, pulling him from his thoughts. “Sure,” he says, and dies a little inside. It's when they've finally buggered off that he realises just how tense he's feeling. He rolls his neck and shoulders, trying to work out some of the tension, but it only serves to make him even more aware of the stiffness. He idly wonders if a good, long wank is what he needs, but quickly decides that hoping to be left alone long enough is unrealistic. He doesn't fancy doing it in the shower, his body not responding to being naked the same way it does when he's in bed, but unless Roger has a lecture, even a few hours alone very unlikely to happen. John and Freddie both work Wednesdays, so it's practically the only day of the week where there’s a slight chance he can get some time for himself, but most often the drummer is there to keep him company. And it’s not as if he doesn’t like to spend time with him, but he really is not at all like Roger who thrives off company, and sometimes all that socialising is a bit much. Sighing, he packs up his stuff, saves his notes for the thirteenth time, and closes his laptop. He drains the rest of tea, long gone cold now, and allows himself a minute to just sit. He tries one of Freddie’s meditation techniques, but immediately feels stupid and stops. It would just be his luck for John or Roger to walk in on him. As it happens, Roger does have a lecture, and appears again half an hour later, smartly dressed which means the girl he fancies is going to be there, grabs a bottle of juice from the fridge, and hangs around for a good five minutes to chat. “Didn’t you have a lecture?” he hints when it becomes clear that Roger has lost all track of time during his not particularly asked for review on the new Roger Waters album. Roger stops mid-sentence, lets out a laugh, and puts on his shoes, waving at him before disappearing outside. Appreciating the near-silence immensely, Brian goes back to brainstorming his next paper. John appears again a while after to make another cup of tea, but he doesn't strike up conversation, and for the next half an hour, Brian manages to fill three pages in his notebook. Satisfied with his work, he puts it away and mentally goes through the rest of his tasks. There's that phone call again, which he supposes he can't really put off any longer, and afterwards there's lunch, and then he thinks he should be able to squeeze in a wank before he leaves for uni. “Right, I’m off,” John announces, patting his coat pockets, “see you later.” “See you. Have a nice shift!” John thanks him and leaves, and Brian is left alone. No point in putting it off any longer. He walks back to his room to get his phone and lies back on his bed, scrolling through his contacts until he finds Daniel’s number. While waiting for him to pick up, Brian eyes wander to the large poster of a deliciously sweaty Jimmy Page on the opposite wall. He thumbs at the hem of his trousers, his own cold fingers making him shiver when he brushes against the bare skin of his stomach. “Hello?” Daniel says, and Brian almost drops his phone, guiltily snatching his hand away. “Hi, uhm, hi,” he says, immediately feeling stupid, “sorry to bother you, but you never called me back, and—” “Right, yes, sorry about that. It’s just about done, I thought we could look over it after the lecture today if you’re not busy?” “No, that would be great, thank you.” “Alright, Brian, see you in a couple of hours.” “Yeah, alright. Bye!” Embarrassed by his lack of social skills, he finds that he’s not particularly horny anymore, and so deems it to be too much work. Glancing at his watch, he finds that he still has an hour to kill before leaving for class, and so he retreats to the studio and picks up his guitar, relaxing properly for the first time that day. ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛

“Yes, mum— No, I told you today is not so good,” he says, phone pressed against his ear as he steps up the stairs from the Tube, “but I don’t work Saturday, how’s that?”

“The Parkers are visiting, dear, I told you so the last time we spoke,” mum says.

“Right, sorry—”

“Are you sure you can’t come by today? Surely the guys won’t be cross with you for skipping band practise this once, I imagine they have mums who miss them, too.”

“It’s not just band practise,” he says, weaving through the crowd and wishing he was home already, “and I can’t skip, mum, I already agreed— hold on.”

He passes a group of construction workers drilling, and returns to the phonecall.

“What about tomorrow? I finish work early.”

He will have to move a few things around, and stay up after practise to rewrite his lecture notes, but there’s that.

“Oh yes,” mum thrills, “how’s it going with, what’s his name?”

“Louis,” he says, narrowly avoiding bumping into an old woman, “and it’s going fine. But mum—”

“Louis, that’s right. You know, I talked to Deborah, and I told her you started tutoring recently, and she’s looking for someone to help her son with maths, and I told her that I’m sure you’d love to, but she’d have to call you herself to make an arrangement, so I gave her your number, and—”

“Mum,” he says, unable to keep the slightly whiny tone from his voice, “I appreciate you trying to set me up with more work, but I’ve got enough on my plate as it is, and I’m not sure I have the time.”

“Of course, dear, but you know it would really help them a lot, and it’s only twenty minutes by the Underground.”

“Right,” he says. Twenty minutes to the station, and then he has to walk for twenty more to get to their house if memory serves him well. “I’ll think about, but I really can’t promise anything.”

“Oh, she’ll be thrilled,” mum says.

“Bri?” someone calls, and he spins around to see John a few blocks down.

He waves at him and says to mum, “how was tomorrow for you? I can probably be there around five-ish, is that alright?”

“Five is perfect. Dad will be happy to see you, I know he has quite a lot to talk to you about. In fact—”

“No, Mum, sorry, but John’s here, I really have to go now. Please tell dad I said hi, and then I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“See you tomorrow. Tell John hello from me!”

“I will,” he says, just as John catches up with him, “bye, mum!”

“Wanted you to skip practise?” John guesses as Brian lets out a sigh.

“Like always,” he says, smiling in spite of himself. “How was work?”

“It was all right,” John says mildly, “did you talk to that Daniel?”

“Yes, he showed me how to set it up and everything, it looks really good,” he says, following John up the stairs to the flat.

“Seems like everything’s coming together then,” John replies, opening the door to the flat and the music coming from inside.

It’s Roger singing and playing Don’t Play Your Rock and Roll, which Brian has only ever heard him sing in the shower, and that only once or twice. “It’s not half bad,” he says genuinely, toeing off his shoes.

“What’s more baffling,” John says, not sounding baffled at all, “is how the two of them manage to play all three instruments at once.”

Brian is surprised to discover he is right - it’s a slightly stripped down version of the original, but never mind that, he already has trouble wrapping his head around the fact that they indeed are playing both drums, guitar, and bass. “How are they doing that?”

John shrugs and pushes his boots to the side with his foot. He’s wearing a sock patterned with pink octopuses, Brian notices. The other has The Great Wave off Kanagawa on it.

He follows John into the living room just as the door to the studio opens and Roger comes bouncing out, waving the drumsticks still in his hands. “Oi, there you are! Thought I heard you!”

“How did you—” he begins, but then Freddie and Tim both appear, Tim with John’s bass hanging from around his neck, and the pieces fall into place.

“Tim! How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good. Just stopped by to pick up the drinks dispenser.“ He looks at John, “I hope it’s okay I borrowed your bass.”

“Of course,” John says, dodging Roger’s attempt at putting his arms around him. “Roger, stop, you’re all sweaty.”

“Tim,” Roger says, dragging out his name, “this is our new and better bass player, Deacon John. John Deacon. Deaky.”

“I know, Roger,” Tim replies with great patience, “I’ve known him for two years.”

This apparently strikes Roger as terribly funny, because he starts laughing so hard that no sound comes out and John has to hold him upright, all the while trying his best not to smile.

“Who let him have sugar?” Brian asks, watching with slight worry as Roger gasps for breath.

“Tesco had a 3 for 2 offer on all sweets,” Freddie replies, and knowing Roger’s absolute weakness for Tesco offers and sugar in general, Brian thinks this explains it very well.

Roger, seemingly able to breathe again, brightly offers to get the last bag to share, but luckily, everyone reclines.

“I was actually about to leave,” Tim says, “did you want me to have a look at your ideas for a photo shoot before I go?”

“That would be great,” Brian says, “Fred?”

“Right, yes,” he begins, before launching into a detailed description of his idea, one that impossibly enough involves even more nudity than the night before. He opens the door to their bedroom, and they all follow him inside. “I’m thinking my bed,” he says, gesturing to his god-awful rococo bed, “it’s as big as Brian’s but much nicer.”

“I see,” Tim says, tone neutral.

Roger, now looking bored, and clearly on the way down from his sugar rush, looks like he is strongly considering lying down on either bed. Brian takes a step to the side, blocking his own.

“I’m afraid I don’t have time the next couple of weeks, but things slow down quite a bit for me after the 1st,” Tim says, “I’ll get back to you, yeah?”

Hugs and claps on the back are exchanged then, and soon after Tim leaves with the drinks dispenser in hand, and another promise to stay in touch.

♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ Thursday morning sees Brian waking slowly, reluctantly, stirred from sleep by melancholic piano play he instantly recognises but doesn't remember. Eyes still closed, his attention is stubbornly focused on the warmth of his covers, the way his sleep-heavy body merely exist in this warm cocoon that is his bed. When he finally opens one eye—the song he now recognises as Für Elise still playing— Freddie is sitting in his bed, looking sleepy rather than tired, and lets the music play instead of turning the alarm off right away.

"Good morning," he says, and Brian's murmured remark gets lost somewhere between his lips and pillow. "It's nice, this, isn't it?" Freddie continues, wriggling out of his pyjamas and turning down the heat before reaching up to crack the window open. Brian pulls his duvet tighter around him. "Better than his 5th, definitely," he says, watching as Freddie rummages through his closet, "or that awful one, Rossini I think it was." Freddie's sudden interest in classical music and insistence to use a new piece every day for his alarm the past month has at times been trying, and while some of it is quite nice, Brian is unable to enjoy any kind of music before breakfast and two cups of coffee, and that's no matter how great a masterpiece it supposedly is. Freddie laughs. "Never seen you up so fast." He grimaces. "'m not a morning person." Nine months of living together, and it still seems necessary to point out ever so often. He envies John and Roger at times, because their sleeping arrangement seems to work quite well. While Freddie is in the shower, Brian lies in bed, face buried in his pillow, torn between getting up and go about the day, and staying in his bed, the internal struggle an as important part of his day as his morning coffee and Freddie's shower first thing in the morning. At last he gets up, albeit reluctantly, and if only to shut the window. Throwing on a warm sweater, he heads into the living room. John and Roger are there, still playing Mario Kart by the looks—and sounds—of it, just like they did when he went to bed last night. There's a crumbled bag of Walker's crisps under the sofa, and John is chewing on a strawberry lance, a concentrated look on his face. “Morning,” he greets. Receiving no answer, he tries instead, “have any of you fed the cat?” “I think Freddie did,” Roger replies distractedly, before letting out a shout of “bastard!" Brian checks Ziggy’s bowl and puts on the kettle, leaning against the counter while idly watching the other two play. "So who's winning?" he asks, already knowing the answer. "Not Roger," John says, face arranged in a carefully blank expression, but there's a smile in his voice, which breaks onto his face when Roger elbows him in the side. "Did you eat at all?" he asks, looking through the cupboard in search of coffee. "A bag of Cheese and Onion," Roger replies before throwing his whole body to the left to avoid crashing into another player. "Maybe you should get some sleep," he suggests, blowing at his tea. "I just need to win, just one more time." John keeps quiet, and races past the goal line. While waiting for the water to boil, Brian takes out his phone to check his university email. There’s a new one from one of his favourite professors, but he rarely ever writes emails. Curious, he opens it, leaning back against the counter while waiting for it to load. He glances at John and Roger who is finally turning off the TV, and when he looks at his screen again, a rather long mail has appeared. He scans the contents of it rather quickly, at once filled with excitement and quite a bit of nausea. “Fuck,” he whispers, just as Freddie enters the room, dressed in a kimono and drying his hair with a towel. “You alright, dear? You look terribly pale.” “No, I—” he begins, dimly aware of John and Roger turning to peer curiously at him as well, “my professor, he wants me to be a part of a team going to Tenerife.”

#i forgot i was supposed to post it this week hah #but that means two chapters in less than a week #i also couldn't come up with a summary but if anyone's dying to write one for me i'll include it

58 notes · View notes