#also gimme some dreams too will ya

[emelinstriker]

Hi hello its been a while since I've had a dream to share. But I have a dream to share. It started off with LIF and Bull King going to the city for some reason and while they were walking they spotted Esau Red Son out getting stuff for his master. Naturally, they're horrified and try to bring Red Son back with them which leads to things escalating and Red Son fighting his dad. Red Son not only beats him, but like cold because he didn't recognize them so of course he did, they're preventing him from serving his master! He left and the dream ended there and I described it poorly but when I woke up I had tears in my eyes

DSHFNDSFHDS

I love myself some angst-

But yes i could absolutely see that happening- His dad would probably hold back as to not actually endanger him. Meanwhile Red Son wouldn't hold back since DBK would be seen as a distraction or enemy hnhnfhnhnghnf

[withahappyrefrain]

nsfw headcanon: bob gets so pussydrunk... i just know it. pls dont perceive me jherbgrebi

YES HE DOES also I can't stick to five sentences lol

"Darlin," His voice is strained, adoration mixing with his Midwestern accent, "You taste s'good. Can I keep goin'?"

It was nice of him to ask you, not that you could give a response beyond a weak hum of satisfaction.

He had been at this for God knows how long. You should be used to it by now; Bob was always needy when he first came back from deployments (not that you were much better).

Upon receiving your approval, Bob eagerly dove back in between your thighs, his tongue quickly finding your soaked slit.

Your head tilts backwards, the soft material of the pillow providing some comfort while your husband uses his talented tongue to bring you to orgasm number who the fuck knows.

"Missed ya s'much," His voice is muffled and it's unclear whether he's talking to you or your wet cunt. With the way his hips were rutting into the mattress, it seemed to be the later.

Your fingers tangled themselves in his dark blonde locks, now wavy due to sweat and being tugged on. A sharp gasp fell from your lips as his thick fingers entered you once more.

Bob loves it. Loves how wet you are for him, loves how warm you are, loves how he can feel your walls flutter around his fingers. He's been dreaming of this for nearly sixty-three days now.

"S'good, you're s'good," his words are now slurred, vibrating against you.

"Rob-Robby," the grip on his hair tightens as your body inches closer and closer to the edge of pleasure.

Your thighs hug his ears, back arching as your whines increase in pitch. It's much to Bob's ears, being able to hear it once more in person. That sweet sound only spurred him further, desperately rutting his hips against your comforter for some relief.

With a sudden gasp , the dam breaks. Your whole body tightens, as if it's making a desperate attempt to cling onto him. Sensitivity surges through you, mixing with the divine pleasure.

His fingers continue their ministrations, Bob feeling bold enough to add a third. After all, he's waited long enough to watch you fall apart.

"Robby!"

He only moans in response, too busy enjoying the taste of you. It's then you realize he's still going.

Weakly, you tug on his hair, trying to pull him upwards. But he's strong, deceptively so. His hands grip your thighs, pinning them down to the mattress.

"One more. Just gimme one more, please baby? Taste s'good."

You don't need to see the comforter to know that the spot underneath his hips is now wet.

Perhaps that's why you allowed him to continue. It drove you wild, seeing how desperate he was for you.

That, and his mouth felt fucking incredible.

[katyawriteswhump]

The power of love, part 10 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near-death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 11 Part 12

Contains mild kink (under-negotiated and going slightly wrong—all for plotty purposes, honest!)

(also on AO3 here)

...

Steve POV continued

“You sure about this, Stevie?”

“What part of ‘let’s do this’ do you not get?” 

Steve unwinds himself from Eddie. He peels his sweater over his head then glances down at the bandages… Screw it, can’t think about it now.

“Damn,” breathes Eddie, apparently drooling too hard to care. “I totally dreamed about this, when I luuuuurved to hate you. Okay, hate is kinda overkill but—”

“Yeah, I was a douche. Blah, blah, blah.” Steve shivers lightly, pitches the sweater at Eddie, who totally fails to catch it. “If this is some freak show revenge kink—”

“Wasn’t like that—seriously, you have no idea. It was, uh…” Eddie ventures closer. Under the quivering beams of the flashlight, his dark eyes seem impossibly large and liquid. “I used to watch you in the pool—you were so disgustingly squeaky clean. I wanted to drag you into the deepest, darkest recesses of my dungeon-master mind and, ahem…”

“I needed bringing down a peg?” Steve gets right in Eddie’s face.

“Not even that.” Eddie’s deadly serious. “Just wanted you aaaaall for myself.”

Steve smirks—best way to disguise the candy-ass swirl of butterflies in his belly—then steps back and spreads his arms. “I’m all yours. Knock yourself out.”

Eddie gets some rope, hooks it over a high beam, and climbs on a crate to fasten it in place. He then plants a palm on Steve’s bare chest, backing him up against a wooden post. Steve smirks harder than ever, if only to distract himself—and Eddie—from the heart hammering insanely beneath Eddie’s hand. Jesus Christ, don’t think! Focus on the hotness.

Eddie reaches up to grab one end of the rope, loop it around one of Steve’s wrists. Steve tugs himself free: “You do know what you’re doing here, right?”

“Believe me, my uncle is worse than any overgrown boy-scout leader. Not sure he taught me knots and shit for exactly these purposes, but… anyhoo.”

“Okay. Got one condition. You get shirtless too.”

Eddie’s grin makes Steve ache in all sorts of fun places. “Guess I can indulge you, Babe.”

“Babe? I was a brat five minutes ago. Make yer mind up.”

Eddie flips the bird, turns away and strips. Steve lolls against the post, despite longing to drag his tongue over every salty inch of Eddie’s torso. Jesus, he never knew he had a shoulder and back kink, because… Gnnng! And those tats, stark against Eddie’s pale skin? As Eddie turns back, Steve drinks them all in. Even the goddamn bats, which should be scary as hell these days, are beyond intoxicating, and seem to dance and spin and…

“Ready now?” Eddie grabs the rope.

Steve fakes a yawn. “Getting old waiting, Munson.” 

“You really are a brat, you know that? C’mon, gimme your hand.”

Eddie ties Steve’s right wrist with a loopy, hitchy knot. He tugs another part of the rope, suspending Steve’s wrist in the air above him.

“How ya doing, big boy?” Eddie grazes his fingers, feather-light, down the light stubble on Steve’s cheek.

“Never better.” 

Steve swallows hard, offers Eddie his other hand. The exquisite concentration on Eddie’s face, the tip of pink tongue at the corner of his mouth, is hilarious. Eddie’s half-naked body is totally smokin’, and yet…

Steve’s eyes drift closed. Those butterflies in his stomach are fast transforming into a horde of angry wasps. He’s had his hands tied before, by the Soviets and… Dammit, is this really distracting him from anything? I DIED IN 1978. I DIED! His breaths come faster, shallower. Nevertheless, he bites his lip against asking Eddie to stop, to slow down even. Don’t spoil this, Harrington.

“Stevie, you sure you’re okay?”

As soon as his gaze meets Eddie’s, Steve’s anxiety fades a little, and he nods. He tugs lightly at Eddie’s handiwork, now complete, and a snigger he genuinely feels tugs the corner of his lips. While the ropes don’t dig in, he doesn’t think he could easily yank himself free.

Okay, this is definitely kinda hot. Like the channel of air between their bare chests, which honestly, steams like a sauna. He’s always been in control in sexual relationships, always taking the lead. Lately, yeah, it’s felt kinda dull almost, as if he’s been going through the motions. Now, his nerves still jangle, but simply losing himself again in Eddie’s soulful eyes, he’s getting a goddamn semi. He peeps down, and the strain at Eddie’s fly suggests he’s suffering the same.

“What you gonna do next, Munson?” he husks.

“Stevie, I… I…” Eddie steps back, plows all eight fingers deep into that lush hair. “Seriously, now I got you like this, I have no clue, other than I want to kiss you so bad.”

“I want that so bad too.” 

Eddie kisses his own knuckles, dusts them across Steve’s lips, setting Steve squirming, keening even. His heart and his every goddamn fibre strain madly toward Eddie. Then an unexpected rumbling noise clamps those same fibres super-tight.

“Fuck!” Eddie’s half-lidded eyes stretch wide. “More choppers?” 

“No… No. Sounds like a truck or something.”

“How?”

“Robin said there was a track, remember? Shit, shit, shit! Turn the flashlight off. Now.”

Eddie obeys. Pitch darkness slams down. “Fine,” says Steve, struggling to keep it together. “You gotta untie me, man.”

“Right. Yeah.”

Cold sweat carves rivulets down the back of Steve’s neck, soaking the hair as his nape, while Eddie fumbles at the rope. Eddie’s frantic, singsong voice unsettles Steve further: “Nooooo. Can’t see what I’m doing.”

“You tied the dumb things? How hard can it be!”

“Stop struggling. You’re making the knots tighter.” 

“Oh.” Steve hadn’t realized he was doing that. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Eddie switches the flashlight back on. 

“Are you insane?” hisses Steve.

“Not the expert I thought I was, okay? I’m gonna have to slice them. Don’t wanna slice you.” Eddie retrieves a flick-knife from his back pocket, starts hacking above Steve’s right wrist. “Aaaaargh! You blunted this thing slashing your way through that goddamn jungle.”

“Somebody had to carve a path for you two great wusses. Just… Don’t be a klutz.”

“Aaaaah, I suck at this, Stevie. I don’t like this. I don’t like this.”

Neither does Steve. An engine revs and grinds, waaaay too close. “Turn the stupid light off. Go! Warn Robin. She’s a heavy sleeper.”

“But—”

“DO IT!” Steve’s furious desperation hits home. Eddie kills the flashlight, leaving Steve tethered by the wrists. Totally helpless.

Calm down, calm down. Focus, Harrington. Free yourself and then you can help them.

He grits his teeth, tugs again at the ropes. They simply bite deeper into his flesh. Nevertheless, Eddie has sawed partially through the rope above his right wrist. He throws everything into that, shoulder and biceps burning, until…

Snap.

His right wrist flies free, and he slumps forward into the darkness. Which makes the bonds around his left wrist snare super-tight, like he was caught in an animal trap.

Ooow! Oh great, just great.

He staggers upright to slacken the remaining rope, gives it a single strenuous tug then pulls short, gasping. At this rate, he’s gonna squeeze his own goddamn hand off.

He hears murmured voices—Eddie? Robin? Two beams of dusky white light streak through the small windows of the cabin—headlamps!?! 

His increasingly feeble struggles dry up. Whoever is coming is nearly here, and he wants to punch something, to kick something. Anything! He’d do anything to protect Eddie and Robin. Anything… Anything.

Giddiness swirls through his body like a mist. He’s nearly bent double, before the wrench through his shoulder revives him. Ow, Jesus! He scrambles to find his footing, to lighten the burden on his shoulder socket, though he’s still light-headed, his chest tight and shuddering. Are the army here? Have Robin and Eddie been taken? Oh God, oh God!

Something that feels like a mini lightning-storm consumes his brain, echoed by a deafening clap of thunder, and then…

Nothing.

…

Eddie POV

Eddie dips around the wavering beams of the slowly approaching headlights. He dashes into the bunkroom, where Robin is asleep.

In the gloom, he grabs her shoulder, shakes her. “Robin!” 

“Mind the kittens… Huh? Shit, sorry, dreaming. What the—”

Eddie flattens his hand over her mouth. “Someone’s coming,” he hisses.

“Shit-birds, what do we…” Robin sits up, slides to her feet. Her attention swings to Steve’s empty bunk. “Where is he?”

“Long story. Listen, you gotta run. Now. Hide.”

“Where? There’s only one way out.” Her arms flap everywhere. “Where’s Steve, Eddie?” 

“Gonna get him. Come on!”

They sidle out of the bunkroom, keeping tight to the cabin and the shadows. The revs from the vehicle are hard-by. “Hide in the trees,” says Eddie. “Go.”

“Not without Steve! Where is… Oh my God, oh my God.” 

Two headlight beams dazzle, as the vehicle enters the camp. A few fleeting heartbeats later, lightning forks across the sky, echoed by a deafening thunderclap. As Eddie and Robin charge deeper into the shadows, the heavens literally crack apart and a wall of rain slams down. Eddie sprints for the cabin where he left Steve, already soaked to the skin, no idea if Robin followed.

“Steve?” he whispers. “Steve! Shit! Shiiiiit!” Blundering in the dark, he discovers Steve’s completely out of it, dangling limply from one wrist. Eddie’s clumsily bracing his weight, when a flashlight sets him squinting, and a large figure blocks the doorway.

It’s all over.

Somebody roars, “What the hell is going on?” 

It sounds like Chief Hopper.

Eddie’s so stunned that he almost lets Steve drop. Fortunately, Hopper is already there—or, at least, some tall, lean, mean-looking dude that resembles him. Whoever he is, he gets his arms around Steve, while elbowing Eddie out of the way.

“Eddie? What? Why? What did you do to him? How could you? HOW COULD YOU?” Robin, holding the light, sounds ten times angrier than the thunder.

“It… uh, it wasn’t like that.” Eddie wrings his sopping hair. “I can explain?”

“Save it, Munson,” mutters the Hopper-look-alike, who’s already produced a vicious-looking blade and is hacking Steve free. Then he scoops one arm under Steve’s knees, and with a grunt, he picks him up.

“You got beds somewhere?” asks Hopper. Robin nods, before leading the way out into the easing rain.

Part 11

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 11

[shyvien]

Here are 100 random quotes from Mammon!

Sourced from the OM! Wiki, chats, devilgram, screenshots I found, etc. I made this list to help with studying to write the characters in character. (Not really proofread, sorry if there are mistakes. Also, there may be spoilers. If so, they're minor spoilers)

✧༺⚜️༻✧

“I want to [CENSORED], [CENSORED], and [CENSORED] like there's no tomorrow!”

“Hey! No touchin'! Grrr..!”

“Hey! So you're just gonna ignore me, are ya?! ...Also, I SAID you're too close! Don't get near MC! And NO touchin'! I won't allow it!”

“I don't want to have anything to do with someone like you! That's it. we're done! It's over! ...gr ...! ...! Dammit! Like I could ever really say that to you! I love you, MC! And I'II NEVER break up with you, okay?! NEVER!

“Hey, whoa! Whaddya think you're doin', huh?! You want a piece of me?! IS THAT IT?!”

“Come on, I was just kiddin' around! Now go on and unblock me. ...I'll tell ya a funny joke if you do. "Who's got two thumbs and needs some company?" 👍 "THIS GUY!" 👍 At least gimme a pity laugh, will ya?!”

“Right now it's just you, me, a bed, and no one to bother us.”

“Oh yeah? Well do me a favor and look into your crystal ball and tell me how many times I'm gonna sock you for that smartass comment.”

“I don't THINK so! Like, don't go marryin' Asmo, MC! If you're gonna marry someone, marry m...m-m-m…..m-m-ME! MARRY THE GREAT MAMMON!”

“Y'know..I wouldn't have pegged you as someone who likes to stir up trouble. But you have some pretty interestin' ideas up there in that head of yours, don't ya?”

“Whoa, hey there. Those are some pretty harsh words. Is there some sorta bad blood between you?”

“Look at those cheeks of yours. What's up with those, huh? How'd ya like me to give 'em a little poke? ...Like that! ...And that!”

“Would ya look at that? The Great Mammon really has an eye for spottin' shiny and expensive things! Who knew such a little shop would have uncut gems like these? Hehehe, come to daddy...”

“What's this here...an emerald? You're a looker, aren't ya? Wanna come home with daddy?”

“Lemme go! I'm not gonna rest until l've landed one really good hit on Levi!… Beel! Lemme go, ya muscle-bound son of a...! …All right, bring it on! Do it...see what happens!”

“Man, what's got your panties in a wad all of a sudden?”

“Yeah-heah-HEAAAH! Sweet, sweet treasure! COME TO PAPA!”

“No frickin' way!”

“Geez, I oughta wrap you up for pullin' a stunt like that!”

“Y'see, I was plannin' on hanging out with MC in my room today. And I wanted to create a romantic atmosphere, y'know? So I lit about 500 candles, and the room caught on fire. Scared the bejeebers outta me!”

“You think a little w-warnin' like that would be enough to s-s-scare me off? He thinks I'm gonna stop s-s-spyin' on him because of that? As if!”

“Folks around here won't let us forget it. But they're just labels. By now, no one knows better than us that labels don't mean anything.”

“Th-That's so coooohohohohold! Ahahaha! Why you guys gotta be so meeeeean?”

“C'mon, man. Make with the mouth openin'. The rest of us are waitin' for our turn.”

“Yeah, I know what you're thinkin'. How'd I turn out to be so awesome? You can tell I've been through both highs and lows, and that I'm self-assured and totally sexy.”

“If I can land a nice, clean blow on Lucifer just once, then whatever happens, happens.”

“And I hate the way you lock eyes with Lucifer...and then like smile and stuff... Don't do that, okay? Don't even breath in front of him, okay?!”

“Exactly. Nothin' of value is missin', except for the stuff I sold.”

“That's rough, buddy.”

“You might not know what I'm talkin' about, but I know what l'm talkin' about! Quit showin' up in my dreams uninvited! Ya gotta give me time to prepare before you go bustin' in like that!”

“D-Dummy! Don't go makin' me say it!”

“Have you forgotten? I AM evil! Demon, remember?”

“What? No, you must be mistaken, Your Wonderfulness. I said absolutely nothing of the sort.”

“Whoever's disturbed my...*yawn* my sleep... I got a pile driver with your name on it”

“Hey, you sure you'll be satisfied with just leaving things at my head?”

“If you're wondrin' where I'm at, that means ya got it bad for me, don't ya? ...Please don't pull that "stay" thing on me.”

“Levi, you son of a-- You just full-on PUNCHED me!”

“Eh, still... It feels nice when you run your hand through my hair like that. So l'll go ahead and let it slide.”

“Wha? No, I wasn't tryin' to make fun of ya... Little guy.”

“Damn straight.”

“Anyway, he said he'd be willin' to lend me money again if I managed to pay back everythin' I owed. Obviously, there's no way I can, so I pretended not to have seen anythin' and ran like hell.”

“Nighttime's when I kick into gear! Let's go out on the town! Your treat!”

“I'm still laughin' my ass off over here!”

“You're the only thing more dazzlin' than a gold credit card! Almost blinding, I'd say!”

“Final boss, my ass! Listen up, 'cause the Great Mammon's got some truths for you haters!”

“Just this once, l'II let ya film me in a bathtub full of money! How's THAT for fan service?!”

“So? Waitin' like a good boy's gone and earned me some kinda reward, right?”

“I'll raise my favorability score with MC lickety-split, profess my love, and win this game before you even know what hit you!”

“...Aww. ...I mean, now listen, you! Dammit. You really play dirty, you know that...?”

“Ah, there ya are! How'd you like to hit the casino with me, huh?! Right now! I'm feelin' lucky today. REAL lucky!”

“Just so we're clear, I ain't afraid of no horror movies. Not even a little! Not even a teensy-tiny bit, all right? Like, seriously.”

“Just to be clear, it's not like l'm afraid Lucifer might catch me if I go alone. That's not what this is about. Seriously, that's not what this is about! For real, it isn't!”

“I've got some serious business opportunities lined up for after classes tomorrow. I'm talkin' makin' some mad cheddar, yo! If Lucifer asks about me, tell him I was called to the human world by the witches, would ya?”

“You don't sleep until I do, you got that? And would ya look at that?! The ol' Sandman forgot to sprinkle his magical sand in my eyes! So strap in, buddy! We got a looooong night ahead of us!”

“Listen, Lucifer is gonna be all over my ass once he finds out…”

“No need to worry your pretty little head. I'll be around for meals and sleep. The bed's pretty big, after all”

“Yeah, a real gold digger, that one.”

“I wasn't about to give in to that jerk's demands. I've got more self-respect than that. So, I told him what the deal was: I get the room rent-free and he can shove his two-year contract where the sun don't shine. But then that snake threatened to snitch to Lord Diavolo and Lucifer if I didn't pay up.”

“Cheap shot callin' a guy stingy cause he's lookin' out for his pal.”

“Bet your wonderin' how a guy like me-drownin' in debt, frozen credit card, more lint in his pockets than Grimm-“

“Using my power and influence, I'll push you through the auditions and get you the chance to model, no strings attached! Well, maybe one string: front and center's all mine. Hope the edge is good enough for ya!”

“I swear, I'm not tryin' to pull a fast one on ya, MC, ol' buddy ol' pal!”

“We're pals, right? If ya really wanna know the details, I'll tell ya for 500 Grimm. If you've got the cash on-hand now, I'll tell ya for half the price. So, what'll it be?”

“Hey! MC! Why ya runnin' BUDDY?”

“Ya know, just a peek! So, help me out by opening the door, just a little?… But I caaaaaaaaan't! Open the door and let me see already!”

“My dear sunglasses just took their last breath... I kinda accidentally killed them. I crushed them...with my rear end. That's right, my poor sunglasses...and bum.”

“I'll whip up my special cup ramen! I'll bring it up in a bit, so just sit tight.”

“Look, l'm sendin' ya a ping! So get your butt over here, pronto!”

“Seriously, I'll bust my ass and get there at Mach speed!”

“Crap, that really does make me feel all warm and fuzzy. Thanks, MC. I love ya a whole bunch, too!”

“I got a raffle ticket when I went shoppin' today, so I tried my luck, and booyah. Jackpot, baby!”

“I've got jack all to do! JACK ALL!”

“Listen to what I'm saying, dammit! Can't someone shut this guy up?!”

“Huh, ya don't say. Whoopsie.”

“If you're thinkin' of saving that picture of me on your D.D.D., I swear I'll put a curse on ya! I'll make it so that you never find money layin' on the street again! And don't you forget it...”

“Jealous? Wanna join me, right? Well, this isn't the sorta place that humans can just go lollygaggin' about in, so keep your pants on.”

“Haha! That's all ya got?!”

“It's an honor to be fightin' ME!”

“Muahahaha. ALL points for MAMMON! Bow down to me!”

“Hehehe, I'm feelin' GOOD today. I got ya somethin'!”

“Oh...? Yeah, that's the spot! Right there!”

“That's a good human. You're gettin' the hang of it, aren't ya?”

“Yo. So ya dropped in to pay Mammon a visit, eh? Good on ya!”

“Missin' the Great Mammon, were ya? Heh, welcome home.”

“Hey, not there! That tickles!”

“What are ya, a spoiled brat?”

“I guess everyone's like that with their first. Who knew ya could be so cute. Hey, why dontcha be more greedy? That way you'd really win my heart.”

“Hey... Oi... All right, already! Pay attention to me!”

“Hey, can't ya be gentle?!”

“Ya know what do to, doncha? Thanks!”

“Eeeew, take that back. Give it to someone else.”

“Hahaha! Is that all ya got? It's nothing compared to Lucifer's swing!”

“Don't think you can get away with this!”

“Here, I got a present for ya! Beach time, you and me! Let me show you how well I can swim!”

“Also, I'm goin' wakeboarding but... I'm gonna bring you along too, 'cause ya know, I like hangin' out with ya and stuff.”

“A Red Demonus after a long day's work is the best! Why doncha grab one too?”

“It's cool if we chill here and drink together, yeah?”

“This looks so flippin' good!”

“Hey, why don't we go this year? Keep the date open, all right?”

“They're very nice, so I thought it woulda cost ya a pretty penny!”

Couple extra for my boy

“You wanted to match with me, ya say?! Cute!”

“Someone put a photo frame in your room, right? That was me. You were eyein' it up in the shop so I bought it. You put a picture of everyone in it, but I really wanted you to put one of just us t... Never mind.”

✧༺⚜️༻✧

I love this goofy fucker

𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

𝒮𝒽𝓎 𝒲𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓇 ༝༚༝༚

[chenfordspiral]

I feel the need to apologize for what clearly became angst day central here, so, with that being said, give me 5 fluffy moments you want to see, this season or any future season.

Fulfill your wildest dreams!!

Nooo, absolutely no need to apologize, Becca! It’s angsty season now for Chenford so of course it's angsty season for us too 😂

But I’ll gladly list 5 fluffy moments I’d love to see!

1. Cuddling in bed. Listen, it’s not even negotiable anymore. I NEED IT 🥺

2. I wouldn’t say no to a happy hug for once. Bonus points if one of them hugs the other from behind.

3. Oh, date night! Uninterrupted. I’d also love to see them hang out with another couple, maybe like a double date.

4. Speaking of spending time with other couples: wouldn’t a game night type of thing be fun?! With everyone there so we can get aaaallllll the family vibes. Gimme something like 5x13 at Nolan’s again. We know we all want it.

5. Technically, I already said cuddling, but… oh well. Cuddling with Kojo! Don’t care if it’s on the couch or in bed, but I’d love to see the boy actually spend some time with his humans, and all three of them cuddled up together would absolutely make me melt.

Can I add a sixth? No? Cool, imma do it anyway.

6. Mentioning "our kids" again! And, ya know, if they feel like it, they could also talk about moving in together (officially) and potentially finding a whole new place together while they're at it? I would die dead. Over and over. If we're talking about things for in, like, three seasons.. yeah, I'm gonna need to see them with their baby. Just imagine the family cuddles with the three of them (and Kojo!) on a lazy, rainy Sunday... okay, clearly I want lots of cuddles for them lol.

Thanks for asking, Becca! This just made me emotional for totally non-angsty reasons 😭😂

[chiprewington]

QUICK GIMME NIGHTTIME AND OR WHATEVER CHIP HC’S YOU HAVE! I GOTTA KNOW 😯🤔 (Also if you wanna throw in any self inserts in there ya cans!)

ough... I've covered some of my thoughts regarding Chip and Sleep in a previous headcanons post BUT... I wont turn away at the opportunity to do bullshit with perry (SILLY)

The usual is still applicable. Chip still doesn't dream and has that module turned off due to frequent nightmares. The only difference is that he much more frequently retreats to his private quarters when Perry is around during maintenance hour. He actually lays in his bed for once!

His bed, of course, is still the same old "way too cramped for him" tiny thing. Perry, however, is small and can very easily fit in order to cuddle that big cranky chainsaw robot.

And this may come as a surprise, but he's the little spoon. Now, Perry likes being the little spoon, but ey don't mind being the big spoon at all. Though... usually this means latching onto his back like a koala or wrapping eir arms around his neck and feeling the warm air from the vents consistently blast in eir face. Yes, he can hold people, but honestly he just wants to feel held himself.

He's not one to usually initiate physical touch, as that's not his preferred love language. However, he wont shy away from it either if Perry's the one to initiate (who's preferred love language is, in fact, physical touch). Surprisingly, a solid steel machine can be very sweet if he wants to be.

[thislovintime]

You might recall older posts featuring audio and/or quotes from Peter's June 1983 interview with NPR (such as here, here, here, and here). There are also some audio snippets on this fan page's YouTube channel. But since the full audio is too long to upload to YouTube, I transcribed the full audio interview, and thought I'd share that transcript here for anyone who might be interested in reading this snapshot of a moment in time.

Terry Gross: "Um, you wanna wait for the coffee before we start?" Peter Tork: "Yes, let’s wait for the coffee." TG: "Good. It’ll be a couple of minutes. We’re waiting for the coffee. Yeah." PT: "Push the button that says stop. [long silence] Does he have to get a key to stop the tape machine? (chuckles)" TG: "So, soon as the coffee’s ready, we’ll…" PT: "We’ll just hit it. (Speaks louder) Okay, now, the thing about the songs is, snatches, this is that, the piece of this, that’s all right, but if you put on songs, then I’m just gonna be the whole..." [recording cuts off]. TG: "Are you comfortable talking about The Monkees?" PT: "It’s a mixed bag. Sometimes I am. Actually, to tell you the truth, I’m not comfortable but it’s not because I… about talking about The Monkees, it’s because I haven’t had a cigarette since yesterday." TG: "Do you wanna light one up?" PT: "Noooo." TG: "Oh, you’re trying to stop." PT: "Well, I’m trying to put it off." TG: "(laughs) Savor it a little." PT: "Put off the next cigarette for, well, hopefully for a very long time, but just not smoke one right now." TG: "Okay. How did you first hear about the Monkees audition?" PT: "Stephen Stills called me and said, 'Go try out.'"

TG: "He auditioned?" PT: "I don’t know whether he auditioned exactly, or whether he had just met the producers socially, but… Steve was a friend of mine on the Village streets in early 60s. He, as a matter of fact, hit town and became instantly known as that guy who looks like Tork, which was my name in those days. And I ran across him on the street. I said, 'I know who you are. You’re the kid who looks like me.’ He said, 'I know who you are. You’re the kid I’m supposed to look like.’ Anyway, so we cut back again to a couple of years later, and Steve knows this guy, and it turns out to be Bob Rafelson, one of the producers, who says to him, in his own inimitable way, 'Well, we like ya a lot, but your hair and teeth are wrong for our production, they ain’t photogenic. You know anybody who looks like you who’s got good hair and teeth?’ Stephen said, 'My friend Peter.’ And so Stephen called me and said, 'Go try out for this thing.’ And I said, 'Yeah, yeah, sure, Steve, yeah, right, instant success, gimme a break.’ And he said, 'No, no, really, try out.’ 'All right, all right, all right.’ So, you know, I took my hard-earned savings, which I’d been making washing dishes at this club in southern, way southern California, fifty miles south of Hollywood, and took a bus up to Hollywood and back down again, and up and down for auditions. And eventually won the part." TG: "What was the audition like?" PT: "Well, it started off with just a huge gang of kids in the office. The office had one secretary type and two offices, one on either side. You went into which ever one was free next and if they didn’t like you, that was it. If they did like you, then you went into the next guy’s office when he was free, and if he liked you, then they sent you to this — they gave you a, what they called a personality interview: they just had the cameras running on the set of I Dream Of Jeannie or something, and they asked you questions. And then, if they thought that was… that was actually also, I think, a photogenic test — photo genesis test (chuckles): Were you born in the camera? But after that, then came the regular screen test, which was scripted, and they had a set there, and a director, and he said, 'Do this and do that, and don’t do this and do this other thing.’ And they had, by that time, had gotten down to eight guys, and they divided them up into teams of two, and each one of them did the screen test with the script and the stage actions: 'Hey, man, what’s really the matter?’ 'Aw, I don’t know, it’s about Celia, you know.’ 'Yeah, yeah, I know, man.’ Like that." TG: "So that was the audition." PT: "That was, well, that was the whole audition process." TG: "Did, did they test you for chemistry with each other, since this was a band that was put together by producers?" PT: "No, they made, they made their assumptions and shot. They said, Well, we need one of these and one of these, two from column A and one from column B." TG: "Yeah, so, so what were the types that you were supposed to fit?" PT: "Well, I actually think that what they did… They didn’t just say, 'Actually, we need one of each of these.' What they said was, 'We’re going to need a bunch of qualities and pretty much the qualities… and we need them somehow or another combined among these guys.' I think basically one of the reasons I was chosen was — I can think of two good reasons why I was chosen. One is that I brought that character of the dummy to the audition. And they needed an odd man out, a guy who is like a little, you know, slightly turned from the other guys; straight-ahead rock and roll band, and one kind of simpatico, simplicico kind of a guy, and that was my character. And so that was one of the reasons why I was chosen. The other reason I think I was chosen is because I did the screen test in one take. At least, I thought it was impressive, I hope they did, too. In any case, it was like that, I got — I was the odd man out, Davy was the little British or romantic, and then two other guys, one of them light and crazed, and the other kind of dark and serious. And so that was the way it was balanced out." TG: "Were you asked to watch Beatles movies or listen a lot to Beatles records to develop the kind of sound and image that they had?" PT: "No." TG: "Were you self-conscious of The Monkees being considered to be like a Beatles imitation band?" PT: "Well, I — there was a lot of criticism to that effect and I think I took it to heart, and now I think I took it to heart too much. Because, really, it was, I think in some ways, Micky and Davy had a healthier attitude about it as I look back on it now. They didn’t go for that imitation this or organic that, you know, they just read their scripts, they came to the studio and read their parts, and that was all they ever cared about doing. You know, 'Give me a part and pay me at the end of the week.’ That’s all. And if I’d had that attitude, I would have been a lot happier. I would have been able to not worry. Because I heard a lot of different criticisms — and it all sounded as thought it was coming from one seriously important source, to me in those days. That was how I was. And I now see that each person had their own little carping to do. For instance, nobody ever said, to, in my knowledge, in those days, that we were a bunch of talentless actors. Everybody said we were talentless musicians, but not talentless actors. Because in Hollywood, we were respected pros doing what we had to do, cranking out this stuff week in and week out. You got it out, you were a pro; that was all anybody cared about in Hollywood. And so I said, Well, at least we had that much respect.’ I later find out that the struggling New York actors crowd are calling us talentless actors. But what I heard was the struggling musicians crowd in L.A., and all of the would-be-goods that are going, Well, these guys don’t play their own instruments,’ and all that… horseradish." TG: "You find that the rap has changed about the program? Because so many people look back on it affectionately now as being, like, a real pop piece from that period?" PT: "I don’t — it’s a good question. I don’t know whether the rap itself has changed, but I’m hearing more good rap about it. Which maybe comes to the same thing." TG: (laughs) PT: "You’re laughing because I spilled my coffee." TG: "Because you spilled your coffee, yeah. Did the studio control your personal life or your image? Like, was it okay to have girlfriends?" PT: "Oh, sure." TG: "Um, was it okay to be seen with them?" PT: "It’s okay to have sex. (laughs)" TG: "(laughs) You never know with studios, like how much control they’re exerting or what they want you to look like to your public." PT: "Well, they wouldn’t let us criticize the war in Vietnam." TG: "Really?" PT: "Really." TG: "Did you want to?" PT: "Yup. I actually did, to a New York Times reporter, and they made me, asked me very seriously, very strenuously, to call her and ask her to withhold that section of the interview. And I did, and she did, she was very kind about it. But it was… I look back on it and it seems kind of silly, but I think that the whole point of the project was: don’t make waves. Look like revolutionary, look like something new, but don’t make waves. On the other hand, in the experience of an awful lot of our audience, we were something new. So I can’t knock that." TG: "Do you think you would have been more of an activist if you weren’t part of TV at the time?" PT: "I don’t know. I never did march, you know, I never did carry a sign. The only thing I ever did was a sit-down strike someplace. Not much. You know, I never really did get into activism, and I don’t know whether it’s just because I’m a flat-out coward or I have some deep understanding of the cosmic truth of the fact that it doesn’t do any good or whatever, in whatever case, that’s just — that’s what it is, I don’t do it much." TG: "Bob Rafelson, who was one of the producers of the show, is now also known as a director of such films as Five Easy Pieces. Have you kept in touch with him at all?" PT: "No." TG: "Did you, like, go to see his other movies?" PT: "I happen to have seen some of the other movies… Of course I saw Five Easy Pieces because we were still associated with those guys as that movie was being put together. I mean, Easy Rider, and then I saw Five Easy Pieces because it was Jack Nicholson who helped us make the movie Head, the Monkee movie. And, and I think, I think Jack is super. And of course, one of the things that I — I have a feeling about Jack because I see the crazy guy that he portrays on screen and I see him in life and he’s still got that, that something, you know, out of bounds is still there, and still, in his actual character, he is one of the great open-minded, open-hearted sweeties that I know. And to see a man with that, these vast, seemingly vast, differences, working and playing these crazed people on screen, and still — I mean, the reason that he’s as big a star as he is, is because he does have the capacity to be abstract about his own work. You should have heard, you should have seen what it was like working with him. He’s a great technician, which is one of the great attributes. You can’t be a crazy maniac like that and not be a good technician if you want to have a career. Because you’ll just go out of bounds without any kind of viewing. And… wow, how’d we get off on that?" TG: "Did you want to pursue acting after The Monkees?" PT: "I didn’t care what I did. I, I’m an entertainer. If I act, or play music, or like I’m doing tonight at Godfrey Daniel in Bethlehem, if I do that… I have a rock band now, it’s called The Peter Tork Project and we’ll probably be swinging through here. And we play thumping rock and roll, we just really beat the bejesus out of things and really stomp. And we have a hard time getting people to believe it, because I do my acoustic act and it depends almost entirely on rapport, and I don’t rock out too much because how much rock and roll can you do on an acoustic guitar or a piano? But… I do, so it’s very, a kind of quietish show, it’s a nice, mild show." TG: "What kind of material do you play solo?" PT: "Well, I do essentially… it’s like there’s an overlap. I do a large part of the same material in both shows. I do do some old Monkees songs, just because I know people want to hear that kind of stuff. And I do do some oldies, ‘50s rockers. And with the band, then we go on to the more heavy rock and roll, the band plays that and rockier stuff. And acoustically I play that and farther out stuff, more ballads, some… a J.S. Bach piece on the piano, one, count ‘em, one. And… like that. So, it’s old, old tunes; I play some more introspective stuff in an acoustic set." TG: "What kind of music do you listen to when you have time to listen?" PT: "Baroque, reggae, current pop from time to time if I happen — I don’t buy current pop records but I get them from my family for gifts and so on. I like Men At Work, I got that for Christmas, I thought it was great." TG: (laughs) PT: "That kind of stuff. The Police. Good — I like good music in almost every form. About the only kind of music that I really have a very hard time taking is opera, and Mozart. For some reason, Mozart I think is awful. I don’t know how come he’s so revered and so treasured. Out of about every dozen pieces that I hear, I think one is inventive and interesting, and the other seem to me just to be scales with flourishes." TG: "Well, I’ll send you all the angry mail when we get it. (laughs)" PT: "No thanks!" (laughter) TG: "Peter Tork is my guest, if you’re just joining us, who got started in, um, and came in very young when he was in The Monkees." PT: "Wait a minute, wait a — that’s not my start! I was playing in the Village for two and a half years. (jokingly) Made his mark in the entertainment industry, you might say, that, that would be fair." TG: "What kind of material were you playing in the Village?" PT: "Folk songs. Just the old folk songs, and 'Blowin’ In The Wind,' and protest songs and folk songs, five-string banjo stuff." TG: "Word was on The Monkees show that it was really studio musicians who were doing the instrumental part while The Monkees were actually doing the singing. Is that true?" PT: "The first two records. After that, we did a record all by ourselves, almost all by ourselves. And then after that, we went into a mixed mode, where it was a professional drummer and I’d be playing bass, or, you know I’d be playing guitar and we’d have a professional bass player, or something like that. At the outset it was — and the thing was that nobody was sure whether we could play, nobody had any idea of how much time. I mean, they really, you know, when you hire a professional studio musician, you know what you’re getting, you know that you can knock off a complete track of two tunes in three hours, maybe more. Just take them in, put the music in front of them, and hit it. And say, More of this, less of that, and okay, you got it. And that’s the way it goes. And they just didn’t know what it was like, and so because our services were needed most critically for making the TV series, it was just regard… also, Donnie Kirshner didn’t like to have people who couldn’t be told what to do. As a matter of fact, you may have noticed that, after he and The Monkees parted company, he decided that The Monkees were not plastic enough for him, went and did the Archies." TG: "Did he organize them also by audition?" PT: "The Archies? You’re kidding." TG: "I don’t know the whole folklore of the Archies." PT: "You know — have you ever seen an Archies comic book?" TG: "Yeah, oh! Of course. What am I thinking? Right." PT: "The Archies were those comic book characters, and whatever singers were willing to do what Kirshner paid them to do, did the records. And after that, they left. There were never any Archies, there never were. (laughs) Like I said, The Monkees were too real for Don Kirshner." TG: "Did you think of Kirshner as being an absurd character?" PT: "Yes." TG: "But powerful." PT: "Well, in his time he was powerful enough. He just was one of those characters whose set up and system happened to jibe with the commercial demand of the times. I don’t think Kirshner knew what he was doing at one level. At another level, he knew perfectly well what he was doing. He was… he listened to music, and he created music that he liked, and it sold millions to thirteen- and fourteen-year-olds." TG: "I’m getting the feeling that you were in a kind of awkward position of kind of understanding what kind of manipulation was happening and at the same time being willing to go along with it because it was good for your performing career." PT: "Well, I don’t know whether it was good for my performing career. The reason I went along with it is because I never took any initiative of anything on my own account. Really basically, I just did wherever I was pointed. You know, Stephen said, ‘Go try out,’ I tried out. They said, ‘Come here, do this.’ I did that. ‘Sign here.’ I signed there. And really, I’m just — I’m only recently now getting to the point in my life where I’m beginning to say, ‘Let me figure this out. What is it that I really want? What steps do I have to take, and what…’ And even then, you know, I have to recognize that I have no control over events. All I can do is say, ‘This is the kind of thing that I’d like, and this is the kind of thing that I have to do to make my chances better.’ And then I do that, and then I have to just let the results be whatever they are, to get into trying to make results happen, you know. As a matter of fact, in some ways that was one of the problems that… when I broke up with The Monkees, I left because I couldn’t get those guys back into the studio to do the same kind of thing that we’d done on our third album, which was Micky on drums, Michael on guitar, me on piano, our producer on bass, Davy Jones playing rhythm sections, and then hiring the occasional string player or something like that. Micky said, 'You can’t go back.' He thought he was Thomas Wolfe. And Davy said, 'I don’t wanna be banging a tambourine day in, day out. You guys, it takes you 54 takes to get your parts down, I’ve got my part down first take. Just bang a tambourine. I’m sick of banging a tambourine, Peter, I hope you don’t mind.’ 'Okay, Davy.’ And so we went into this mixed mode. But I wanted the guys to be a real, live group. I had this Pinocchio/Geppetto complex, you know. And when they wouldn’t go for it, I really — it burned me out. And there I was being burnt out because things wouldn’t happen my way, and it was a case of His Majesty The Baby, trying to, you know, have his own way. If I had had the good sense God gave me, I might have noticed that I was having my own personal way, that is, in the sense that I wanted for myself was happening. I could be in the studio playing bass or guitar or piano on every single cut The Monkees did from then on if I wanted to, but that wasn’t enough for me, I wanted things for other people to do, otherwise I wanted to produce and direct and write the script for the whole shebang." TG: "Why did you want everyone to be playing? Because you thought it was more honest? Or was there another reason?" PT: "I thought it was more honest, I thought it was a bigger deal, I wanted a real live group, I thought that this was the way things were done; I was a victim of the same illusions that other people were criticizing us for shattering in their lives. In other words, you’re not a — you don’t just do this all by yourselves, you’re not an organic group, you don’t this, you don’t that, and how could you, you’ve broken my heart.’ As if, you know, as if we’ve broken their heart, as if it wasn’t the shattering of false illusions. If you hang on to false illusions, of course your heart’s gonna get broken." TG: "Did you try to organize the band to maybe rebel against —" PT: "Mh-hm." TG "— the producer." PT: "Well, we did organize the band, and we did get — rebel against Don Kirshner, but it was Mike and me wanting to — each for reasons of our own — and Micky and Davy went along. And then we did the thing, and then everybody said, 'Well, that’s enough of that, thanks very much.’ And I went, 'No, no, no, you’ve got to do it the way we planned, the way I had in mind for us to do,' you know. The fact that everybody went along with what looked like my plan obscured my vision of the fact that everybody was doing what it was they thought they had to do for reasons of their own. And when their reasons changed, and their behavior changed, and my plan didn’t change, I went after them screaming to try to mend my shattered illusions. What a jerk." TG: "(laughs) How did being a television star and a recording star affect your schooling and your ability to have friendships and things like that?" PT: “I don’t know that it affected my ability to have friendships. Basically I don’t think I knew how to be or have a friend beforehand, and I don’t think I learned while I was in that operation. I mean, I had some good buddies, you know, but that wasn’t the same thing, I didn’t really understand. There was only one person in my life that I could turn to when I was hurting who happened somehow to know what it was, what it took to stop me hurting, and that was a woman named Karen Harvey, who later joined me on the West Coast. And I thought, well, here’s a friend come to join me and this will be a real friend. And we were pretty good friends, I guess, but there wasn’t any that, you know, that — I didn’t know what a friend did in a sense of how, on a day-to-day basis, do you maintain your friendships, do you go out of your way to make sure that things are nice and right and, you know, the kind of work that a friendship takes. You don’t just have a friendship without work. And I didn’t know that. And I’m not so sure I know it now. I can say it, but I don’t know if I have, I have the real gut understanding it takes. But in any case, so that… And my schooling, the reason that I was in entertainment was because I’d flunked out of college for the second time, and I never did finish and get a graduate — I mean, I never did get a bachelor’s degree. And to this day, I haven’t got one and I don’t know whether I ever will." TG: "Well, you don’t exactly send resumes around when you’re playing concerts. (laughs)" PT: "No, they didn’t ask me for my degree when they asked me to play Bethlehem. At the Godfrey Daniel tonight in Bethlehem, PA. Those of you who are within driving distance of there, who are within the sound of my taped voice now should hustle out there and take your money so that you can get in." TG: "Speaking of money — how much profits did people in the band, of The Monkees, have, from the millions of records that were sold, and the TV profits and syndication?" PT: "We got the usual — we got standard minimum shares of the TV show and the records. We got a raise, a modest substantial raise, some, you know, medium kind of a raise, after about six months they gave us a raise. We always got the standard record deal, which was: the group gets five points, which was five percent of ninety percent, and so we split one and a quarter points, which is, what, one and three tenths percent each person of whatever the going price was. And we get that today. If they sell a record, The Monkees Greatest Hits album is still on the Billboard middle-of-the-road or some — there’s some special chart that Billboard has that we’ve been on for weeks and weeks and weeks and weeks." TG: "How do you feel about that?" PT: "Well, it’s money, I don’t care." TG: "Did you retire as a wealthy young man from the —" PT: "No. No, I didn’t. I retired as a man with some indeterminate amount of money which somehow indeterminately ran out." TG: "So, when you left, did you want to be known as the former Monkee or did you want to erase that part of your past —" PT: "I tried to erase it." TG: "— and start anew?" PT: "I tried to erase it completely." TG: "How do you do that?" PT: "Well, you just don’t do anything connected with it, just absolutely refuse to have anything to do with it, and… basically what I did was I retreated into — I wound up retreating into Marin County, California, which is just north of San Francisco. And there I worked, I belonged to a worker-owned restaurant, waited tables and was part of the cooperative that owned and operated the restaurant. Nominally owned the restaurant; it was actually owned by this guy whose parents had left him some GM stock, and he bought this thing and the co-op was supposed to pay him to buy him out over the long haul. I think they have done finally, I think it’s now a real workers’ co-op. And I worked there, and I retreated, and nobody said anything to me about my Monkees past except one or two guys said, You know, I’m glad to see you just on the street schlepping around, that kind of thing, which made me feel good. I belonged to a few groups; I belonged to a thing called the Fairfax Street Choir, which had 35 voices in the rock section and was very hard to stage. (laughs) Those little coffee house stages, 35 guys and women. And I also belonged to a kind of second on the bill act in San Francisco called Osceola for a year or so. And that kind of thing. And nobody said anything about The Monkees to me." TG: "Are you in touch with the former members now?" PT: "Occasionally." TG: "I would imagine that some people would be happy to see, like, a reunion. Would you ever imagine that happening? PT: Yeah. The only problem with that is mounting it and making it acceptable to everybody. The problem is, the real problem is that I can’t much see myself going onstage and doing an hour of Monkees greatest hits playing bass and getting offstage. I don’t think that any amount of money would particularly… I don’t suppose that no amount of money, but I don’t think that any amount of money that anybody would be interested in paying me would make me want to do that. I… And I don’t see what conceivable creative project could interest the four of us that would be backed with enough money to make it worth our while to develop any good germ of an idea into something full-blown. I just, I don’t see it happening, I just think that the chances are astronomical against it. It’s possible. We’re all alive. The Beatle reunion is not possible. I’m just reading Lennon’s interview, and he says that thoughts of a Beatle reunion are like going back to high school. Why don’t you go back to high school? When are The Beatles getting back together? When are you going back to high school?" TG: "Is that how you feel?" PT: "I — like I said, I would think that any just simple remounting of The Monkees greatest hits songs on a stage would be that, yes." TG: "Oh, but if you were able to do other material." PT: "That’s what I’m saying. If I thought that it could be creative and useful and engage everybody to the fullest of their capacities, I would, I would consider it. But who’s gonna, you know, pay for us to have hotels, to keep us supported in the styles to which we are accustomed for the two months or three months that it would take to create, carve, mount, produce and rehearse a show that would involve all of us to the maximum of our new capacities. I don’t think it can be done." TG: "How do you feel about audiences?" PT: "What do you mean, (laughs) how do I feel about audiences? What kind of a question is that?" TG: "Okay, because fans have kind of played it both ways with the members of The Monkees, you know, I think when the TV series was on and when millions were being sold, there were millions of fans who were really adoring. And then when you leave a group like that and everybody wants to hear from you only in that context, it’s probably —" PT: "How long have we been on that topic, on this? We’ve been a half an hour, we’ve been almost the entire show on that topic." TG: "What topic?" PT: "The Monkees." TG: "Right. So…" PT: "(gently) So what’s your question?" TG: "So do you have a mixed feeling about fans and audiences?" PT: "Well, fans and audiences are different. Audiences come and they catch the show and they like what I do or they don’t, and that’s up to them, and that’s just the way it’s supposed to be, no matter whether I ever was a Monkee or not. And fans… if a fan, if somebody really needs to remember The Monkees and identify with that, I have nothing to say about that because I don’t know what’s going on with them or what chord I may have touched at some point way back when that they still need to strum on themselves. And it’s none of my business." TG: "So where are you living now?" PT: "I live in Venice, California, legally and technically. As a business matter, I spend most of my time in New York. I still am a registered voter in southern California, my driver’s license is southern California, I’m married, I have children in southern California, I go back there as often as I can and be part of the family, I just don’t get out there very often, and as a business matter, I spend most of my time in New York. Eighty percent." TG: "Where have you been doing most of your performing?" PT: "The New York area these days, mostly. I went to southern Canada, southern Ontario to do a few shows, I’ve been to Boston, I’ve been upstate New York, and I did Pittsburgh a couple, about a year ago, I guess. You know, I operate out of New York basically because you can’t operate out of L.A. You cannot make a living as an entertainer operating out of L.A. Not that I make such a great living operating as an entertainer out of New York, but at least there’s a sense of whatever level I’m on, I can go to the next level and operate on that level for a while. In L.A., you either have to make it or you die. That’s it: you’re either making it or you’re dead. And once somebody has been to the top and come away, you don’t, as far as I see, get much of a second chance in L.A. I tried to knock around as a character, comic character actor for a while, and I got people to: 'Hi, you know, it’s good to see ya,' and they laughed at my jokes, and then they never invited me back." TG: "Um, I forgot what I was gonna ask you." PT: "(laughs) A hell of a note for a professional interviewer." TG: "(laughs) Oh! Do you watch TV much now?" PT: "A fair amount." TG: "Do you watch it very critically, having been — and also seeing what kind of roles are available, I imagine…" PT: "No, no, I don’t watch mass media pop TV much. Hillstreet Blues, that’s about it. The rest of what I watch is CNN, cable news, I don’t know if you get it here." TG: "We don’t get cable here yet." PT: "You don’t have cable in Philly? (jokingly) Oh, you poor people! MTV, also on cable, and, um, the odd cosmos show. I, I saw Carl Sagan say astrology had been completely debunked on a scientific basis. And I go, wait a minute. Not that I’m such a fan of astrology, but there’s no scientific proof that — it’s like, anything you don’t like, if you define it the way you don’t like it, you can prove it doesn’t exist. Like, he said, 'The premise is that the stars have a profound influence on life.’ No, that’s not it." TG: "Do you watch a lot of rock video?" PT: "I watch a fair amount of rock video, and a few pop, the news, you know. Then I listen to music and I read, and I perform and I rehearse, and I run around and take care of business, and that keeps my days filled." TG: "Will you be performing tonight at Godfrey Daniels?" PT: "I’ll be performing at Godfrey Daniels in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania." TG: "And which instruments will you be playing?" PT: "I’ll be playing the guitar, the banjo, and the piano. All at once. (laughter) No, no, seriously, folks, all kidding towards one side, I’ll be playing those three instruments, if they have a decent piano in Bethlehem; I didn’t bring my piano with me." TG: "I want to thank you a lot for talking with us. Thanks very much for being here." PT: "Well, I’m — it was all right, thank you, and I, I just, I just hope it turns out an audience in Bethlehem, that’s all." TG: "Thanks for coming." PT: "Okay." [audio cuts off]

I uploaded the full audio to Google Drive, here.

[shooting-love-arrows]

Me to Mortician!Yandere:

/) /)

ପ(˶•-•˶)ଓ ♡ Gimme more plz (I’ll be a corpse if ya want me too)

/づ づ

I finally figured out why I can send the picture! It is because Tumblr doesn’t like anons sending em ૮₍⇀‸↼‶₎ა!

Also, I love love love Mr. Mortician because I actually want to be a Mortician! It’s one of my dreams!

As odd as I know that may sound ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა

So I think me and him would get along swimmingly!~

I love the way you wrote him and I can’t wait to see more of him!~

On another note, how do you think Mr. 1950’s Husband or even Mr. 1950’s Rich Man would react to a Mortician darling? I actually was thinking about asking and then you posted about Mr. Mortician, lucky timing I suppose ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა!~

Anywho, I’ll give ya another *squeeze* and some bread since ya seem to like it so much on the way out, and hope you have another dazzling day/night my darling honeybun!~ <3

Also, hope you enjoy TWST (Twisted Wonderland)! I’ve fallen in love with it too! Who’s your favorite as of right now? Mines Idia!~ ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა

- ໒꒰ྀི ˶• ༝ •˶ ꒱ྀི১₊˚⊹♡

Dear ໒꒰ྀི ˶• ༝ •˶ ꒱ྀི১₊˚⊹♡ Anon,

You don't need to be a corpse but sometimes it's better to pretend to be one. After all, you are dealing with a walking red flag. But remember to remind him from time to time that you are alive. Oh, he loves you too. In fact I belive you are love of his life. This man falls last but harder. If you want more of him and you have some ideas, my inbox is at your disposal (requests will be written after I'll reopen them)

Wow, I didn't expect that. It's not odd at all, dear. What an interesting choice of career! You're the first person from my surroundings who’s interested in becoming a mortician. I certainly hope you'll achieve your dreams. It's such a pity! Well, I'm certain your fanart is fantastic. No need to feel sad about such trivial matters. Remember, do things that will make you comfortable. I have a favor to ask you, if you could send me a part of your post about how my yanderes would react to mortician! reader again. I'll gladly write them later but now I'm focusing on completing the requests. You can just copy and paste that part. Thank you for understanding in advance. Thank you for your squeeze. I needed it. Well, my day is fine but it seems that sickness decided to pick me as its next victim 😔 About the bread. I mean, there is this anon jumps in my inbox from time to time and gives me free food. (I appreciate the thought behind it!). Who am I to decline it? Anything you will give me is fine dear. Now I'll go and eat this bread with some good, homemade jam. Hope to hear from you soon and have a wonderful day (even if it's not daytime), my darling pink rose! P.S So far I enjoy it. Perhaps it's because I love the stories they were based on. Right now, I am stuck on Vil. Our unapproachable and mean Queen is just pulling me in. India, my spiritual animal, has a great potential to be an adorable husband. Imagine a reverse version of the myth about Persephone and Hades. Instead of Hades aka Idia seducing you it is you that do so. He would stop functioning, I'm telling you. P.S.S I went all out on this answer, huh?

@shooting-love-arrows

[sl-newsie]

Cool Your Jets- Ch. 6: Under Arrest (Riff x newcomer)

At the police station I find the odda Jets have been brought in for questioning. Everyone except Riff. The cop has me sit down on a bench next to some odda goils. On of ‘em (I think it’s Anybodys) and the odda Jets get into an argument, but I’s too dazed to listen. All I can think about is how noivous I am ‘bout being questioned, how scared I am for Riff, and how anxious I am for Tony and Maria. God, my whole world’s turned upside down in one day!

Soon Anybodys escapes the officers and leads a chase outta the room, leaving only me, the lady next to me, and the Jet boys. Baby John must also share my uneasy nerves ‘cause he keeps pacing back and forth.

“He ain’t ever been arrested before?” I hear the lady ask.

“He ain’t ever been noth’n before.”

She looks at me. “What about her?”

“Hey Marylin, ever been arrested?” Mouthpiece asks from the bench across from me.

My eyes widen. “Arrest? As in… locked up?”

“Technically you wait for a trial but yeah, locked up.”

“N-No I haven’t. But- But I can’t stay here! I thought I was just being questioned! I don’t wanna be arrested-!”

“Too late!” Action calls from across the room.

Panicking, I run over and try to bust open the locked door.

“No no no! Let me out! I don’t belong here!” I cry against the window.

“Better believe it, toots. You’s here same as the rest of us,” Diesel remarks.

“B- But I’m good… I’m a good person! I’m… I’m not in a gang!”

“Still. You associate with us, you become one of us.”

All because I wanted to make friends!?

I punch the glass and cut my wrist, causing Mouthpiece to gasp.

“Marilyn! Ya shouldn't hurt yourself! What would Riff say?” He comes over and starts wrapping my hand, only I yank it away.

“I don’t give a damn about what Riff thinks! I don’t give a damn ‘bout what any-a you’s think! All I wanted was to have a halfway-decent fresh start, but I guess I don’t even deserve that- let alone to have my parents back!” I slope against the door.

“Let me go

Far away

Somewhere they won't ever find me, and tomorrow won't remind me of today

And the city's finally sleepin'

And the moon looks old and gray

I get on a train that's bound for Santa Fe…

And I'm gone,

And I'm done!

No more running. No more lying.

No more fat old man denying me my pay.

Just a moon so big and yellow, it turns night right into day!

Dreams come true. Yeah they do. In Santa Fe.”

Mouthpiece puts a hand on my shoulder. “Aw, c’mon Marilyn. You’re get’n yourself all worked up. Be’n a Jet ain’t so bad-”

I push away and shake my head. “I never wanted to be a Jet! I wanted friends, friends who could be there for me when I needed them and not bring more trouble into my life!”

“But ya gotta admit… the Jets have always had your back.”

“I’ve known you for a day, and I’ve already been arrested! Now I just godda get oudda here before I’m imprisoned!

Where does it say you gotta live and die here?

Where does it say a goil can't catch a break?

Why should you only take what you're given?

Why should you spend your whole life living trapped where there ain't no future,

Even at 17!?

Breaking your back for someone else's sake!

If the life don't seem to suit you, how about a change of scene?

Far from the lousy headlines, and the deadlines in between.

Santa Fe, my old friend,

I can't spend my whole life dreaming.

Though I know that's all I seem inclined to do.

I ain't getting any younger,

And I wanna start brand new!

I need space. And fresh air!

Let 'em laugh in my face. I don't care!

Save my place, I'll be there.”

I wipe the tears from my eyes, and give a desperate sigh.

“Just be real is all I'm asking,

Not some painting in my head.

Cause I'm dead if I can't count on you today.

I got nothing if I ain't got Santa Fe!”

The guys are all stare’n at me, but I don’t care. All I want is my life back.

“C’mon, cheer up! You’re a mess, we’re a mess, we’re all in one big mess!” Mouthpiece trots up with Krupke’s hat on. “Look at you’s, you feckless frigg’n disappointments. Now gimme one good reason I shouldn’t throw the book atchya!”

He looks at me with a serious frown, and I can’t help but give a small smile. Now the boys get the hint.

Diesel looks around, then sings:

“Dear… kindly Sergeant Krupke,

You gotta understand.

It's just our bringin' upke

That gets us outta hand.”

“Our mothers all are junkies.” Big Deal adds.

“Our fathers all are drunks!” A-Rab pretends to drink from a bottle.

“Golly Moses, naturally we're punks.” Diesel shrugs at Mouthpiece. Then he pulls me up and leads me to stand with the odda Jets.

“Gee, Officer Krupke, we're very upset:

We never had the love that every child oughta get.

We ain't no delinquents,

We're misunderstood.

Deep down inside us… there is good.

There is good!”

A-Rab joins in:

“There is good, there is good.

There is untapped good.

Like inside, the worst of us is good!”

Mouthpiece snickers. “Aw, that's a touchin' good story!”

Diesel spreads his arms. “Lemme tell it to the woild!”

Mouthpiece shoves him towards Diesel. “Just tell it to the judge!”

Diesel gets pushed in front of Balkan, who stands on top-a the desk pretend’n to be a judge.

“Dear kindly Judge, your honor

My parents treat me rough.

With all their marijuana

They won't give me a puff.

They didn't wanna have me,

But somehow I was had!

Leapin' lizards!

That's why I'm so bad!”

Balkan bangs a hammer and looks over at Mouthpiece.

“Right!

Officer Krupke, you're really a square

This boy don't need a judge, he needs an analyst's care

It's just his neurosis that oughta be curbed

He's psychologically disturbed.”

Diesel shouts: “I'm disturbed!”

The odda Jets join in:

“We're disturbed, we're disturbed,

We're the most disturbed!

Like we're psychologically disturbed!”

They start whooping and hollering, with Mouthpiece pull’n me all around the room. When Balkan bangs the hammer again we all look up.

“Hear ye hear ye! In the opinion of this court, the boy’s depraved on account of he ain’t had a normal home.”

Diesel looks around. “Hey, I’m depraved on account of I’m deprived!”

“So take this nut to a headshrinker.”

Mouthpiece shrugs. “Ooh, why not?”

“Wait no no-!” Diesel gets shoved up against a lean’n table, a makeshift therapist chair, while A-Rab stands over him.

“My father is a bastard,

My ma's an S.O.B,

My grandpa's always plastered,

My grandma pushes tea.

My sister wears a mustache,

My brother wears a dress,

Goodness gracious!

That's why I'm a mess!” His eyes widen.

A-Rab points a finger at him and looks at Mouthpiece.

“Yes!

Officer Krupke, you're really a slob.

This boy don't need a doctor, just a good honest job.

Society's played him a terrible trick,

And sociologically he's sick.

Diesel shouts again: “I am sick!”

Now everyone sings, and I decide to join in with a smile on my face.

“We are sick, we are sick!

We are sick, sick, sick!

Like we're sociologically sick!”

A-Rab paces back and forth in front-a Diesel.

“In my professional opinion, what we got here is a run-of-the-mill juvenile delinquent!” He gives Diesel a slap. “And juvenile delinquency-!” Slap!  “-is a social disease!”

Balkan gives a disgusted grunt as we crowd around. “Ew, Diesel, you got a social disease?

A-Rab nods. “Bring him to a social worker.”

As Diesel walks off, Mouthpiece calls: “Wait, can I catch it by touchin' him?”

Diesel walks up to Big Deal, but then Baby John pushes up front.

“Dear—”

“Kindly social worker,

They say go earn a buck.

Like be a soda jerker,

Which means like be a schmuck!

It's not I'm antisocial,

I'm only anti-work!

Gloryosky!”

We all sing: “That's why I'm a jerk!”

Big Deal scoffs, pretend’n to be a lady social worker.

“Officer Krupke, you've done it again!

This boy don't need a job, he needs a year in the pen!

It ain't just a question of misunderstood,

Deep down inside him, he's no good!”

Baby John shrugs. “I'm no good!”

We all chant:

“We're no good, we're no good

We're no earthly good

Like the best of us is no damn good!”

By now we’s all scattering papers, kick’n over chairs, and push’n Diesel left and right.

Mouthpiece smirks. “The trouble is he's crazy!”

“The trouble is he drinks.”

“The trouble is he's lazy!”

“The trouble is he stinks.”

“The trouble is he's growing!”

“The trouble is he's grown.”

We all sing:

Krupke, we got troubles of our own!

Gee, Officer Krupke

We're down on our knees

Diesel shrugs. “'Cause no one wants a fella with a social disease!

“Gee, Officer Krupke

What are we to do?

Gee, Officer Krupke-”

Just then the door opens, revealing Krupke himself.

“Krup you!”

The officer just stands there look’n around at the mess we’ve made as the Jets start to trickle outta the office. I follow Mouthpiece, who quickly turns back to hand Krupke his hat.

“This is for you.” He then grabs my arm and leads me out. “So, ya feel bedda now?”

I try to hide my smile and give a surrendering nod. “Yeah.”

Mouth grins. “Good, ‘cause I don’t want Riff see’n you’s so upset! Now c’mon, he’s wait’n for us.”

I give him a pointed look. “I don’t got anything to say to Riff. He knows where I stand, and I can’t change his mind.”

Mouthpiece considers this. “True, but have ya thought ‘bout what peace of mind you could give him before the rumble? Even just a quick ‘good luck’ would help him out a lot. I know it. He really does care for ya, Marilyn.”

I really wanna believe him, but I shake my head. “If he cares, he wouldn’t be do’n this stupid rumble. He’s fighting one-a my friends’ boyfriends, and I feel like i’m the one caught in the middle-a this mess. One way or anodda, somebody’s going down and i’m gonna get dragged down with ‘em. If Riff wins, Anita won’t ever speak to me again. If Bernardo wins, I-” I play with my hands and avoid Mouthpiece’s heavy gaze.

“You what, girly? You care for him too, dontcha?”

I bite my lip. “Yes! I do care! If Bernardo wins and Riff dies I- I don’t know how I would take it! He’s supposed to be a wicked, racist bastard, but something inside him is… scared. Call me a lunatic, but I’ve grown to luv a complete stranger in one day! How does that even happen, Mouth?!” I turn away to hide my shuttered crying.

Mouthpiece don’t say anything and instead wraps his arms around me in a soft hug.

“You’s been through a lot in the past month, so it’s all ok to be feeling all this. You just gotta trust that things’ll get bedda, Marilyn.”

I chuckle dryly.

“That's life.

That's what people say.

You're riding high in April,

Shot down in May.

But I know I'm gonna change that tune,

When I'm back on top, back on top in June!”

I start marching towards my apartment, still followed by Mouthpiece.

“I said, that's life.

And as funny as it may seem,

Some people get their kicks

Stompin' on a dream.

But I don't let it, let it get me down

'Cause this fine old world it keeps spinnin' around

I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate

A poet, a pawn and a king

I've been up and down and over and out

And I know one thing

Each time I find myself flat on my face

I pick myself up and get back in the race

That's life! I tell ya, I can't deny it!

I thought of quitting, baby

But my heart just ain't gonna buy it!

And if I didn't think it was worth one single try,

I'd jump right on a big bird and then I'd fly!”

When we reach my apartment building, all the Puerto Ricans are giving Mouthpiece odd looks, But when they see he’s with me then they leave us alone.

Before we start up the stairs, Anita rushes down.

“Marilyn! There you are!” She seethes. “You tell those- those- those fiends that they are not welcomed here!”

I frown. “Who? What happened?”

Anita scowls and points up at my apartment window. “Your boyfriend and his gang are in your apartment, so please kindly tell them to vamos!”

With that she storms off towards the market, leaving Mouthpiece and I exchanging panicked looks.

“Riff’s holding a Jet meeting in my apartment, in a Puerto Rican neighborhood?!”

This can’t be good.

[amoonglove]

A Pouch of Gil

[5 Years Ago]

Anthea picked her way carefully through the bushes of Eastern La Noscea with a smile that wouldn’t dim. She had lost her only family over six moons ago but she was on her way to making her dreams come true, finally. She’d spent her time since leaving the Arcanist’s Guild traveling Vylbrand, working in any and all taverns, inns, and shops that would hire her. She scrubbed floors, served ale, washed dishes, and tended gardens, saving every gil carefully before moving to the next place that would have her. After all of her work and saving, she finally had it, the five million gil that would allow her to purchase her own plot of land. She would now be able to open a shop like she had always dreamed. 

She stayed low and walked carefully to avoid the seedkin, just like grandmother had taught her; and only gathered herbs, fruits, and vegetables that were well out of their way. The sun was beginning to set a bit earlier than she had anticipated and she could see rain clouds pooling above the treetops. 

It was quite fortunate, then, that she spotted a wooden hut built into a small recess in the cliffside. She made her way there, staying in the shadows and keeping quiet. She approached cautiously but saw no signs that anyone was living there, she knocked at the door and there was no answer. Anthea found a small space to huddle just under the eaves of the hut and placed her pack onto her lap for warmth. She would just wait until the rain passed before making her way back to Wineport, hopefully before dark.

She had only barely closed her eyes for a nap when she felt the edge of a knife pressed firmly against her throat. “Scream an' I’ll end ye.” came a deep, raspy voice.

Anthea froze, fully awake, and opened her hands, palms up, to show that she was unarmed. 

“Gimme this 'ere sack an' ain’t no need fer bloodshed.”

She relinquished her bag of food without moving her head at all. She felt the pressure of the knife release and in a quick motion the man had pulled her sack into his own arms. She whirled around to look up at him. 

He towered over her, with pallid skin and long scraggly hair that was unkempt and slick with rain. His clothes were ragged and dirty, and his eyes were ravenous. “Where’d ya get alla this? Huh?”

Anthea tried to catch her breath but her heart was in her throat. “I-I gathered it from the hills just a ways away.” 

The man peered out over the surrounding area, scowling, “I’ve been up and down them hills, ain’t seen nothin’ like this... Git outta here.” With that, he pulled a large tomato out of the sack and shoved it into his mouth, biting down voraciously, like a wild beast. He opened the door to the hut with a kick of his boot and strode in, “Here!” he yelled once inside. 

From the entrance, Anthea could hear a muffled noise coming from inside, something like an animal whimpering. She found the courage to crawl to the door and peer in, and it was no animal but a Hyuran boy bound and gagged naked on the floor of the hut. The man had just tossed some vegetables to the floor and was laughing like a maniac. Anthea heard something like a roar coming from the far corner, she peered further into the doorway and saw a large Roegadyn boy also bound and gagged, crying out.

“Don’t you worry ya beast, I’ve got some fer you too.” He spit on the boy. Another round of sickening laughter ensued.

She will never know where the strength came from, but Anthea stood up and pushed the door fully open. “Leave them be!” she said. 

The man’s laughter died, his eyes became serious as they focused on the dark-skinned girl. “Or you’ll what? Didn' ah tell ya ta git?”

Anthea’s knees buckled as she looked up at the grizzled man, her eyes widening in fear. “I-I’ll bring you more food, lots more! If you’ll leave them unharmed.”

The hut filled with the sudden, full howl of the man, his eyes rolling back into his head. “An' if you don'… they ain’t gonna see tha' sun rise.”

She ran. Her legs carried her like wings through the pouring rain to Wineport.

At dawn, she returned to the hut, arms full of fresh ramhorn zucchini and maiden artichokes. The man sat in the corner, smirking devilishly as she pushed the door open. He waved dismissively at the floor and she placed the offering carefully at her feet before making eye-contact with the Hyur and Roegadyn. The Hyur seemed to be pleading with her while the Roegadyn glared at her, his stare even. Their gags were still in place and they were both in nearly the same positions as the day before.

Every dawn for the next four suns, she returned with more. Fruits, vegetables, dried meats and grapes from the vineyards. And every time, the man would scarf her offerings and leaving scant for his captives before yelling for more and shoving her out the door. On the fifth dawn she arrived with nothing.

“Huh?!” The man rose from the corner menacingly, his strength had grown over the past few days. “Whereza food?!” he bellowed. The man walked over and put his foot onto the Hyuran boy's face. The boy choked on his gag, shrieking loudly and the Roegadyn boy growled in response.

Anthea shook her head, “I have a better offer!” She hesitated for a moment but it made the man stop, he looked up at her.

“Do ye? Whaddaya got? I don' like womenfolk. What else ye got?”

She stared at him wide-eyed. “I have gil. I want to buy them! I want to take them safely from here and in exchange... you leave in peace too.” Her voice was small but clear.

The boys looked up at her, tears collected in the Hyuran boy’s eyes; the Roegadyn’s face softened. These were no criminals, they didn’t deserve to stay here with this monster.

“So what’s ta say I don' kill ya and jus' take it?” He pulled a dagger from his waist and took his foot off of the boy’s face.

“The Maelstrom are on their way here now and they know there’s a smuggler in this hut,” she lied. “Either you take this and go in peace now, or they find me dead and hunt you until you join me.” Anthea's eyes glittered with a beautiful ferocity. She put everything she had into convincing him of this lie. “How much do you want for them?”

The man laughed heartily, it was a deep, hollow cackle. “Mayhaps one day you become a smuggler yerself. Two million for tha Hyur, he’s well-used.” He smiled a twisted, disgusting smile at this, “And three for the Roe. I ain’t broke him yet, so he’s… pristine.” The man relished this last word, like it was a rich dessert. "I betcha don' even have that kinda coin little lady..."

Anthea gasped as realization fell over her like a heavy wool blanket. She took the large gil pouch from her waist and loosened the drawstring at the top, revealing the currency inside. She placed the gil pouch where she had placed the offerings, in the middle of the entryway, then stepped warily toward the boys, watching the man the entire time. "Five million gil, right there," her voice crackled as she said it.

He took the cue and scooped the bag up, fleeing the hut and moving quickly South. Anthea went to the door to watch him leave, just in case, before collapsing to the floor in tears. She breathed hard trying to digest everything that had just happened before turning to cut the boys loose with her botanist’s tool. 

She removed their gags and helped the Hyuran boy to sit up. He winced and sat crookedly to one side. “You’re gonna be alright, love. Do you have a name?” The boy shook his head, sobbing. His face was caked with grime and dirt. Anthea looked to the Roegadyn boy, “How about you? Where do you come from?” He just stared at her, silently. “I see… Let’s get you both to Wineport, if we lean on each other we can make it there quickly.”

[be-with-me-so-happily]

Summary: Y/N applies to be a styling intern for the One Direction crew during the Where We Are tour. As she gets better at her job and closer to the band and crew (especially Harry Styles), some of her dreams seem to be coming true, but so are some of her fears.

A/N: Have you recovered? I hope so. There's a lot of feelings being felt right now. The start of the 'One The Road Again' tour kicks off!

Warnings: Some language, heartbreak, angst

~~~~~

CHAPTER 19 -

WHERE DO BROKEN HEARTS GO

Feb 3rd, 2015

As you wake up and blink your eyes open, you have to adjust to remember that you are back in the guest room of Levi's house. The realization causes your chest to tighten and the tears return to your eyes. You didn't realize you had any more of them left to cry.

You hear a faint knock on the bedroom door.

"Y/N/N, you awake?" Natalie's voice sounds through the door.

"Yes."

"Can I come in?"

"Yes."

You have no intention of talking anymore about it today. You did as much as you could last night through the sobbing, and you can't get your heart to replay those moments again. It's too crushed. You curl into the comforter even more.

"Do you want some food? Levi made a big breakfast and there's a ton left over. I can bring up a plate." She offers.

"I'm not hungry."

"Honey… please? Let me just bring it up and you can eat it when you want it." She strokes your hair. She's always by your side and always taking care of you when you need it.

You nod, barely, and she shuffles quickly out of the room.

She returns with a big plate of food and sets it next to you on the nightstand.

"Are you going to call Amelia today?" She asks.

You nod.

"So, you're really not coming back on tour?"

"I just…" the crying starts again. "I just can't."

She rubs your back. "Do you want me to stay while you call her?"

"Yes please."

You slowly and sluggishly grab your phone, moving your body as little as possible. You hesitate and sigh before dialing Amelia's number.

"Hey Y/N!"

"Hey, A. I… I have to quit. I'm sorry"

"What? Why?"

"I just… I can't do it anymore."

You start vigorously sobbing again, so Natalie grabs the phone.

"Hey, A. It's Nat…" She walks out into the hallway and you bury your face into the pillow, hoping that it'll soak your tears enough to stop them.

Natalie comes back in and hands the phone back and sits on the edge of the bed right next to you.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry girl." Amelia says.

"Me too."

"I so badly want my best lady to come back, so if you change your mind then come back right away, but I understand that it would be way too difficult. So, I'm bummed and disappointed that I'm losing you… might even ignore Harry for a bit because of all of it… but I'm not mad and I'll miss you a bunch."

"Thanks, A."

"If you need anything, gimme a call."

"Okay."

"Bye sweetie, love ya."

You hang up the phone and drop it onto the other side of the bed.

"You know I'll stay with you in a heartbeat, right?"

"I know, Nat."

Even through all your tears last night, you demanded that she go back on tour. She loved the job, and her boyfriend, and you would not keep her from that.

"I'm going back to my mom's tomorrow. I'll be with people."

She kisses the top of your head. "I'm here all day. I've gotta pack anyway. So yell if you need me, or stop me if you want to watch a movie." She leans closer and starts to whisper. "I also know that Levi has a baseball bat, in case there's an expensive car that needs some smashing." She chuckles.

"I'll keep it in mind."

She leaves the room and you grab your phone again so you can text Sam.

:you: i'm gonna be back tomorrow

You put your phone back down but you immediately hear the ding of your notifications.

:harry: you will?

You look at your messages and realize you accidentally sent the one for your brother to your now ex-boyfriend.

[Geez, you're a fucking idiot Y/N]

You're not sure if you should reply but you see that he is typing another message, so you rapidly type one out before he sends his.

:you: that wasn't for you. won't happen again, goodbye harry

With that, the little 'typing' message goes away, and you decide to block his number. You are relieved, but then the heartbreak kicks in, and the sobbing resumes.

You wonder if eating will force your tears to stop, so you sit up, have a few bites to eat, and then lay back down. The crying has cost you so much energy that you start to drift back to sleep quickly.

~~~~~

Sleep is disrupted when you're startled awake by yelling. You quickly, and sleepily, stumble out of bed and through the door.

[What the hell is going on?]

You make it to the hallway when the fog lifts from your brain and you halt in place when you see Natalie standing at the front door, her back towards you, yelling at whoever is there. It doesn't take you long to know who it is.

"Seriously, fuck off Harry! And don't come back!"

"Just let me apologize to her!"

"No fucking way! No fucking way are you ever going to talk to her again! Now go away!"

You instinctively grab your necklace. Then you realize you actually still have the necklace. You don't want to keep it anymore.

[You need to give it back, now.]

"Wait!" You blurt out and jog up to Natalie, standing behind the door and out of Harry's view.

She glares at you, confused.

"I'm giving this back." You unclasp the jewelry and hand it to her, unable to ignore the smirk she has in her face.

She extends her arm out to him. "Here."

You hear a sad exhale as he utters , "oh," and your head drops down.

[That was it. That made it real. For both of you]

"Y/N? Please… I'm so sorry."

Tears start trickling down your cheeks again and you wrap your arms around your own waist. Natalie quickly glances at you to gauge what you want to do, but you shake your head. You know you shouldn't see him, that you can't see him.

"Doesn't matter anymore dickhead. Goodbye. I'll see you in Australia. I can't say it'll be pleasant, but it'll stay professional."

She slams the door in his face and instantly wraps you up in a hug.

"I'm so sorry Y/N/N. I'm so, so sorry."

All you can manage is a shake of your head before all of your tears are unleashed, again. She holds you there until you manage to settle the sobbing down a little.

"Would you like a bath? I'll draw one up for you, with all the luxury spa amenities."

"Okay." You agree.

She runs to the guest bathroom and you head back to change into a robe.

"Okay, I lit some candles, added your favorite vanilla bath bomb, and the Bluetooth speaker if you want to play some music." She beams.

"Thank you, Nat."

You walk in, bring your phone for some relaxing tunes, and dip into the bath.

It feels so good. It's not a cure, but the warmth of the water and candles, the vanilla scent swirling around, and your favorite (non-boy band) songs are creating a tiny temporary peace.

It all scatters when you hear a very familiar song starts to play.

(Mamma Mia)

I've been cheated by you

Since I don't know when

"For sucks sake!" You yell, and you grab your phone to stop the song. You let out a loud growl. "Why can't I get away from you!"

You pull yourself up and hurriedly get out of the bath, wrapping yourself in a towel and opening the door.

Natalie is just outside and gasps in surprise when you walk out. "What's going on?"

"I just want to go to bed. I need to shut my damn mind off." You try to give her some sort of smile before you enter the room. It's not very successful.

You close the door, grab some clean pajamas, and burrow yourself back up under the covers.

[Will you be able to enjoy any of your favorite things without being tortured by memories of him?]

~~~~~

Feb 4th, 2015

This morning you get up at a decent time to pack your things. You don't want to stick around much longer. You just want to be back with your family. It's taking you a bit longer than you were hoping, as your heart just isn't in it to do much.

"Hey, got some coffee to go…" You hear from the doorway. You turn around and manage a small smile as you actually see Levi standing there, holding out a disposable coffee cup towards you.

You walk over to grab it. "Thank you."

"Of course." His eyes dart around a bit before he speaks again. "I'm Nat's boyfriend, but I'm always here for you too. Okay?"

You nod. "Thank you. For everything. Seriously. You have done so much for me. This place feels like a second home now."

"It is Y/N. It always is." He replies. "And you can stay here if you really want to. Otherwise I'm just putting it on Airbnb." He chuckles.

"Thanks. I gotta get away. I just… gotta be home."

He nods. And you add, "plus, you can actually make some money from it now."

"Who said you'd be staying for free?" He laughs, trying to reel it in quickly after.

You smack his arm a pick and stick out your tongue. "Punk."

"Oh, umm, Ryan is also a phone call away too. I'm sure he'd help out if you need anything." He offers.

"Okay." The thought makes you slightly uneasy. You're not entirely sure why, but the awkwardness of that movie night replays in your mind.

[If you weren't ready for something back then, you definitely aren't ready for anything anymore now]

~~~~~

You're all packed up and are ready to go.

"Okay, well, I mean… call or text me and shit. We'll be back 'round in a few months I think…" Natalie says as she starts getting teary, and you follow soon after.

This is one of the first times in a long time that you two have really been away from each other, at least with as much distance as it's going to be, and for as long as it's going to be.

"And as soon as you are, I'm taking you back from Levi." You grab her in your arms to make your point, which makes them chuckle.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay, honey?"

Natalie asks.

"No, Nat. You're going." You demand.

"Thank you Y/N/N." Levi smiles.

You all give hugs and do your best not to get too weepy in the car, so you can be safe driving for the next couple of hours.

You want to keep the radio off, so you don't stumble across a memory-inducing song, but you also don't want to be alone on your thoughts, so you throw on a 'summer vibe' instrumental playlist and focus on the road home.

You finally arrive at your mom's house, and when you turn off the car, your heart sinks. You're glad you can be home, but the reason why is once again weighing heavy on your heart. The last time you were here, you were going through the first breakup, but this one feels so much worse. You hadn't just broken up with your boyfriend this time, he has broken your entire heart and you no longer have his. You feel a tightness in your chest and you grab your bags to head inside.

"Sweetheart!" Your mom states, as she wraps you in a big hug. "I'm happy to see you!"

"Me too, Mom."

She pulls back and studies your face. "Oh Y/N… are you alright?"

All you had told her was that you weren't going back on tour, because you weren't loving the lifestyle. But she is looking at you like she knows better.

You try to play it off. "I'm just tired, probably from the drive. I'm going to take a nap."

"Okay sweetie. I can have lunch ready for you later if you'd like."

"Thanks Mom."

You make your way to your room, and drop your luggage down as soon as you get inside. You close the door and drop onto the bed. Now you are alone with your thoughts again. And worse, you are alone with your feelings.

You crawl into the bed and do your best to think of anything but the heartache.

[Anything, think of anything]

Nothing works. Nothing comes to mind that doesn't remind you of Harry. All of your memories are tied up in him now. Even things from before you started the tour, have been tainted by his presence, because you talked about it all with each other. He had your heart, he basically had all of you, and now you feel like you have nothing.

The tears quickly make an appearance and you bury your face in your pillow. The heartbreak process easily tires you, and you feel yourself powering down to sleep.

~~~~~

You wake up to a gentle knock on your door, as it slowly opens.

"Hey sweetheart. Just checking if you want some lunch?"

You wipe your face to hide any evidence of crying and sit up in bed. "I'm not super hungry."

"Okay, what about some soup?"

You don't really want to get out of the bed, ever, but you know she might start to nag you and ask questions which you're not ready to answer, so you accept the offer. "Sounds good."

She heads to the kitchen and you somehow convince your body to follow her. You sit at the table and place your head down on your arms as they lay folded on the tabletop.

"Are you alright?" She asks.

"Mhmm." You mumble.

"Sweetheart, you just took a three hour nap and now you're resting. I've never seen you this… inactive … before." She replies.

You prop your head up to look at her. "It was hard. It's just all catching up to me."

"Do you know what you're going to do now?"

You straighten up. "I… honestly haven't even thought about it."

"Well, knowing you, your resting period won't last long, my little go-getter." She smiles and she places your soup in front of you.

The idea of finding and doing another job was causing your brain to go on the fritz. You really didn't like the thought, and you really had to fight back tears. You shoved a spoonful of soup into your mouth and tried to make conversation with your mom about anything other than yourself.

~~~~~

:niall: why did i just hear that you're not coming to australia?

:you: because i'm not :(

:niall: what? who is going to make me beautiful?

:niall: when are you coming back?

:you: i'm not… i quit completely

:niall: no. y/n… no! why?

:you: nat can tell you

:niall: i can't believe this.

:you: i'm sorry bud, i'll miss ya so much, tell the other boys i'll miss them too

:you: umm… but not h.

:niall: damn it, he's the reason isn't he?

:you: :( i'm sorry, i love ya

:niall: love ya too

~~~~~

Feb 7th, 2015 - Concert Day

<< HARRY'S POV >>

"Hey Nat…" Harry says.

"Oh hello asshole." She replies.

He groans. "Is Y/N around? I don't want it to be weird later, so can you just gimme my outfit now?"

She looks at him with a confused frown on her face. "Okay, but she's not even here…"

"Okay, good timing then."

"No you dumbass, she quit." She states, scoffing and shaking her head.

Harry looks shocked. "What?? She loves this job!"

Natalie furrows her brow even more. "Did you really think that she wants to be here with you strutting around? No, dickhead! This time she can't handle it."

"Shit." He drops his head. "I fucked up everything for her." He mumbles.

"Yep, ya did. Here's your outfit, it's boring, she had better taste." She throws him his clothes. "Now leave… please." She rolls her eyes and he walks away.

His heart breaks a little more knowing that he crushed yours, and now also your dream job. It's bad enough that he isn't going to 'be with' you on tour, but now he has to actually do it completely without you.

[Bloody hell, this is going to really be shit]

He walks back to his own private room and grabs his notebook.

(If I Could Fly)

If I could fly

I'd be coming right back home to you

I think I might

Give up everything just ask me to

He drops the pen onto his notebook and rests his face in his hands.

He doesn't notice Niall walking in.

"Hey, man. You alright?"

"No. I think I really fucked up Nialler." Harry answers, lifting his face from his hands.

"Yeah, I'd say you did." Niall responds.

"Not bloody helping." He scowls.

"Whatcha want me to say? Y/N is one of my best friends… she is awesome."

"Yeah " he sighs. "She's… perfect." His face returns back to his hands.

"I'm sorry, we've got like an hour 'fore we get on stage."

"Okay." Harry responds.

"Can I see?" Niall asks, peering down at Harry's notebook.

"Oh, umm… sure." He hands the notebook for Niall to read. Niall looks over the lyrics and his mouth drops open.

"Wow… you really are torn up." Niall pats him on the back.

"I love her." He whimpers, tears forming again.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm still always here for ya."

"Thanks mate."

"You got it. But we've got to put on'a good show tonight." Niall reminds him.

Harry nods his head, and grabs the outfit Natalie handed him. "I know. I can do it. I think"

~~~~~

The buzz of your phone's notifications woke you up. You look at the time and see that it's 4am in the morning.

[Who the hell is texting you this early?]

:niall: ah! missed ya!

:you: but how was it?

:niall: amazing, i love australia

:you: i know you do, glad it was good.

It makes sense now. The concert must be over, and with the time difference, it's late at night for them.

:louis: i'm so gutted that you're not here

:you: me too tommo

:louis: right so come back then

:you: i can't, i'm sorry bud

:louis: I know love

As if your heart hadn't been broken enough, the realization of not being with the other boys, your other best friends, is hitting hard. You, Natalie, and them had all gotten so close that you're devastated you aren't there with them all.

You check your last new messages.

:natalie: miss you so damn much

:you: me too

:natalie: the boys are sad you're not here

:you: me too

:natalie: get sleep honey, we'll talk later

You set your phone back down, hoping you'll get a couple more hours of sleep before your mom wakes you up with her usual 'welcome home' breakfast feast.

Before you drift off, you get one more notification and decide to read it before you put it on silent.

:niall: i just wanna tell you something

:niall: don't be mad

:niall: harry is absolutely torn

:you: don't! please don't do that.

:niall: i'm sorry, really, i just… thought you'd want to know

:you: i really really don't

And with that you completely turn it off, and roll back over, wiping away the few tears welling up in your eyes.

[How much can a heart even break? You feel like yours doesn't have anything left]

~~~~~

Series Masterlist || Chapter 18 || Chapter 20

Taglist: @watermelonsugacry @tw1nflamebruis3 @slut4lilyrose @pinktakeaway @hopefulwastelandcreation @tenaciousperfectionunknown @his-only-angel-1989 @queenmadi2 @runway-to-my-aid @theekyliepage @be-yourss

[katyawriteswhump]

WIP ask game: You've built it up and now I HAVE to know more about your Power of Love fic. I love long fics too much not to ask!

I am so very sorry! I thought I answered this Tuesday, but actually saved it as a draft. Whoops!

Also, thank you soooo much for asking :) Not sure about building up, I was being pretty honest with the 'deeply unbeloved' but I guess I still kinda love it. I really hope to finish it soon in a satisfying way for those who stuck with me, as I've had it planned out for ages.

It's basically s4 fix-it fic. Steve saves Eddie and they go on the run from the police etc. together with Robin. Meanwhile Steve develops mysterious powers, though ones that come with a price...

If anybody is interested, the full fic so far is on tumblr here and on AO3 here.

Excerpt:

“You sure about this, Stevie?”

“What part of ‘let’s do this’ do you not get?” 

Steve unwinds himself from Eddie. He peels his sweater over his head then glances down at the bandages… Screw it, can’t worry about scars now.

“Damn,” breathes Eddie, apparently drooling too hard to care. “I totally dreamed about this, when I luuuuurved to hate you. Okay, hate is kinda overkill but—”

“Yeah, I was a douche. Blah, blah, blah.” Steve shivers lightly, pitches the sweater at Eddie, who totally fails to catch it. “If this is some freak show revenge kink—”

“Wasn’t like that—seriously, you have no idea. It was, uh…” Eddie ventures closer. Under the rays of the flashlight, his dark eyes seem impossibly large and liquid. “I used to watch you in the pool—you were so disgustingly squeaky clean. I wanted to drag you into the deepest, darkest recesses of my dungeon-master mind and, ahem…”

“I needed bringing down a peg?” Steve gets right in Eddie’s face.

“Not even that.” Eddie’s deadly serious. “Just wanted you aaaaall for myself.”

Steve smirks—best way to disguise the candy-ass swirl of butterflies in his belly—then steps back and spreads his arms. “I’m all yours. Knock yourself out.”

Eddie gets some rope, hooks it over a high beam, and climbs on a crate to fasten it in place. He then plants a palm on Steve’s bare chest, backing him up against a wooden post. Steve smirks harder than ever, if only to distract himself—and Eddie—from the heart hammering insanely beneath Eddie’s hand. Jesus Christ, don’t think! Focus on the hotness.

Eddie reaches up to grab an end of the rope and loops it around one of Steve’s wrists. Steve tugs himself free: “You do know what you’re doing here, right?”

“Believe me, my uncle is worse than any overgrown boy-scout leader. Not sure he taught me knots and shit for exactly these purposes, but… anyhoo.”

“Okay. Got one condition. You get shirtless too.”

Eddie’s grin makes Steve ache in all sorts of fun places. “Guess I can indulge you, Babe.”

“Babe? I was a brat five minutes ago. Make yer mind up.”

Eddie flips the bird, turns away and strips. Steve lolls against the post, longing to drag his tongue over every salty inch of Eddie’s torso. Jesus, he never knew he had a shoulder and back kink, because… Gnnng! And those tats, stark against Eddie’s pale skin? As Eddie turns back, Steve drinks them all in. Even the goddamn bats, which should be scary as hell these days, are beyond intoxicating, and seem to dance and spin and…

“Ready now?” Eddie grabs the rope.

Steve fakes a yawn. “Getting old waiting, Munson.” 

“You really are a brat, you know that? C’mon, gimme your hand.”

Eddie ties Steve’s right wrist with a loopy, hitchy knot. He tugs another part of the rope, suspending Steve’s wrist in the air above him.

“How ya doing, big boy?” Eddie grazes his fingers, feather-light, down the light stubble on Steve’s cheek.

“Never better.” 

Steve swallows hard, offers Eddie his other hand. The exquisite concentration on Eddie’s face, the tip of pink tongue at the corner of his mouth, is hilarious. Eddie’s half-naked body is totally smokin’, and yet…

Steve’s eyes drift closed. Those butterflies in his stomach are fast transforming into a horde of angry wasps. He’s had his hands tied before, by the Soviets and… Dammit, is this really distracting him from anything? I DIED IN 1978. I DIED! His breaths come faster, shallower. Nevertheless, he bites his lip against asking Eddie to stop, to slow down even. Don’t spoil this, Harrington.

“Steve, you sure you’re okay?”

As soon as his gaze meets Eddie’s, Steve’s anxiety fades a little, and he nods. He tugs lightly at Eddie’s handiwork, now complete, and a snigger he genuinely feels tugs the corner of his lips. While the ropes don’t dig in, he doesn’t think he could easily yank himself free.

Okay, this is definitely kinda hot. Like the channel of air between their bare chests, which honestly, steams like a sauna. He’s always been in control in sexual relationships, always taking the lead. Lately, yeah, it’s felt kinda dull almost, as if he’s been going through the motions. Now, his nerves still jangle, but simply losing himself again in Eddie’s soulful eyes, he’s getting a goddamn semi. He peeps down, and the strain at Eddie’s fly suggests he’s suffering the same.

“What you gonna do next, Munson?” he husks.

“Stevie, I… I…” Eddie steps back, plows all eight fingers deep into that lush hair. “Seriously, now I got you like this, I have no clue, other than I want to kiss you so bad.”

“I want that so bad too.” 

Eddie kisses his own knuckles, dusts them across Steve’s lips, setting Steve squirming, keening even. His heart and his every goddamn fibre strain madly toward Eddie. Then an unexpected rumbling noise clamps those same fibres super-tight.

“Shit!” Eddie’s half-lidded eyes stretch wide. “More choppers?” 

“No… No. Sounds like a truck or something.”

...

(so, this is one of my favourite bits, among the heavy, heavy angst... maybe not representative of the whole thing, but perhaps there'll be more like this to wind things up... it doesn't not fit with my story plan ;))

AO3 link

[notanotherreidgirl]

Masterlist

Hi! Hello! Welcome!

My main is @bacchanalianbabe so follows, likes and comments will be from there (I also accidentally reblog stuff there sometimes)

You can learn a bit about me here!

Join a taglist here! However, if you’d like to join the Mommy & Ma’am taglist, please send an ask instead of using this form.

I’m on Kofi!

You can find all my Spencer x Reader fics below. They’re mostly Fem!Reader.

Requests: Open/Closed - accepting for blurbs and fic requests. If you send a concept please state whether or not you want me to do a fic/blurb on it otherwise I will just react. Thx!

As a note, I don’t write non-con, dub-con, more intense BDSM, omorashi, omegaverse, race play, slave!aus, underage content, self-harm, weapons play (ex. knife play), unsub!Spencer, actual people (MGG in this case), unhappy/sad endings

Upcoming works!!

Okey-dokey, here ya go: 

Lanie’s 1K Celebration/Masterlist

SFW

Dad!Spence concepts: Just a little self-indulgent list of how I think he would be as a dad

It’s Doctor: Spencer stands up for Reader against a disrespectful police sheriff

Lesson Plans: Spencer’s TA helps him organize his class all while developing a crush on him, little do they know that he feels the same way

Lukewarm Is No Good: Spencer finally tells Reader how he feels when he finds out she’s going to get married

On Being Mrs. Reid Collection

I Love You This Much: Being married to a profiler is no easy feat - Reader struggles with Spencer being away all the time

Make You Feel My Love: Spencer makes changes for the better as he starts to see himself as a husband and father first

So This Is Love: Spencer comes home late after a case to find Reader has stayed up for him

More Than A Memory: Spencer doesn’t want to forget you

NSFW (no minors please and thank you)

Blurb Masterlist: Short, smutty little concepts requested by all you lovely people

Patience is a Virtue: Reader lets Spencer, her TA, know how she feels after a whole semester of tension. 

Break My Rules: Reader and Professor!Reid have office sex

Strip: Months of teasing finally comes to an end over a game of strip poker

K-I-S-S-I-N-G:  Spencer doesn’t recognize a song JJ was singing and Reader helps him out

Truth or Dare: Virgin!Spencer feels nervous about being with an experienced Reader and she puts his worries to rest.

Let’s Get Physical: Reader has a little fun with Spencer when he has to wear a Holter monitor

Just Gimme Them Babies Collection

Surprise: Reader has some exciting news for Spencer

Baby Fever: Reader convinces Spencer to have another baby

Mommy Kink Collection

Mommy’s Here: Spencer can’t control himself around Reader so she decides to do something about it

Wake Me Up: Morning sexy times

Dreams Come True: Spencer is a tease and Reader teaches him a lesson

I’ve Got You: Reader and Spencer try something new

No Strings Attached: Spencer and Reader’s no strings attached relationship starts developing some pesky strings

Why Don’t You: Spencer is being a brat at work so Reader puts him in his place

Make You Mine: Reader gets jealous and reminds Spencer of who he belongs to

Extracurricular: Professor Reid is being a brat so reader puts him in his place

Ruin Me: Spencer has been very needy and bratty so Reader teaches him a lesson

Trop Difficile d’Attendre (Too Hard to Wait): Spencer’s punishment is a week without coming

We Shouldn’t: Reader hears virgin!spencer moaning her name through the walls of her apartment

Series

Mommy & Ma’am (NSFW): Everyone has a devil and an angel sitting on their shoulders. For Dr. Reid, they’re both in his bed. 

Thanks for checking out my work! I think it goes without saying that likes, reblogs, comments and messages (on or off anon) are very much appreciated! If you let me know what you like then I’ll know to write more of it.

<3 Lanie

[pies-writes-and-more]

drunk haikyuu boys singing to you

Synopsis: how some haikyuu boys sing to you while they’re just slightly drunk

Characters: Sugawara, Ushijima, Bokuto, Kenma, Yamaguchi, & Kageyama - all with a Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, some swearing probably, mention of a suggestive song (but nothing specific!). All characters in this fic are assumed to be of legal drinking age :)

Haikyuu Masterlist

Sugawara will literally sing to you anywhere anytime. Backup dancers no backup dancers, stage or no stage, drunk or not drunk. He is READY.

He’s definitely embarrassed you in the park before, singing to you at the top of his lungs some adorable little song that he’s now obsessed with. He has a really great voice but omg Suga please shush, people are staring at you.

But drunk Suga? Oh that boy is going to SERENADE the shit out of you. It probably won’t even be a romantic song to be honest. He’s probably singing some really suggestive song at you, winking with both eyes because he’s very tipsy (“m not drunk Daichi, I can totally handle another shot if you would jus gimme”).

He’s basically scream-singing because the music at the club is loud so it’s a lot of dance moves and hand gestures too. Tries to grind on you but again, had a few drinks, so he’s kinda just flopping around lol.

Has Daichi and Asahi singing backup for him even though Asahi doesn’t really know what the lyrics are so he’s just nodding and humming along (cut to his :O face when he realizes how suggestive the song is).

Ushijima doesn’t sing out loud in public sorry. But after a couple of shots that Tendo just keeps pouring for him, he’ll happily sit somewhere in the pub with you on his lap. His lips will continuously press kisses to your forehead and you can hear him softly hum or whisper the lyrics of the love song that just came on the speakers.

He’ll brush the hair away from your ear so he can continue softly humming to you with each kiss, smiling cause you’re so embarrassed but you’re also loving it??? And he loves you and just wants to tell you that. He might not be the greatest at words but this song seems to be lovely and has a good melody so he gonna at least hum it to you, singing out the parts that he really connects with.

You’re not even really sure if he remembers it in the morning cause you can’t really? tell? when he’s drunk? He becomes slightly more okay with PDA and his cheeks go a nice red but like tipsy vs drunk you got no clue.

But you catch him humming the song again later the next day and he catches your eye and gives you that smile again and like ugh butterflies.

Bokuto is has been preparing for this FOR AGES. He’s already thrown back a few shots but serenading you has been like a dream of his for AGES. So the shots are just adding to his confidence. Once they announce the start of karaoke, he is ALREADY on the stage.

Akaashi is ike sir please no just come back here and don’t embarrass us, but Bokuto is insistent because he is the best at everything so why would he not do it??

Gets on stage and picks some like very dramatic song, (if you’re a Brooklyn99 fan, imagine how Gina is dancing to Beautiful by Christina Aguilera to those teenagers cause that’s what I’m imagining rn lol) and at the beginning of the music, he just pulls the mic off of the stand like some cocky pop star, looks you dead in the eye and points at you saying, “This one is for you, hot stuff”.

You’re just hiding behind your fingers but like peeking through them because as entertaining as this is, you can also feel everyone staring at you and that is just a no thank you.

Akaashi is filming it and sends it to the group chat so everyone can laugh with him at how confident Bokuto is. But also like ??? Bokuto has a good voice and the team has only ever heard him singing in the locker rooms (but most of the time that’s like speak-singing? if that makes sense?) whereas right now he’s going full out because he loves you.

Kenma like Ushijima really doesn’t want to sing out in public. You might catch him humming along to his game’s music but karaoke? ya no sorry. Not unless it’s just the two of you in a private karaoke room, then maybe he’ll quietly sing along.

But the two of you are just chilling in a pub, watching some other volleyball players play a version of Never Have I Ever that’s about their volleyball teams (“Never has my teammates gotten a penalty for screaming at each other.” “Kuroo you ass.” “Not my fault, drink up Daichi, and all you Karasuno boys too.”)

Kenma had had a few drinks and was feeling pretty mellow. He felt like he could fall asleep right here with you in his arms but he was just nodding his head off to the music.

Then you started humming and quietly singing along to the music and he recognized it as something you had sung along to at home too. It gets to the part where the lyrics say something like “baby you’re everything to me”, and Kenma sings it with you.

You look up at him in surprise cause you honestly thought he was sleeping, but his eyes are wide open now, looking at you with literally all the love in the world.

Yamaguchi has literally the prettiest voice in the world and you cannot change my mind. He sings to you all the time at home, dancing with you in the kitchen while you’re trying not to burn dinner, or in the car while you two are singing at the tops of your lungs, but he’s never done it in public before. Cause that shit scary.

But after a few drinks warm his whole body, he’s smiling at you with closed eyes, swaying to the music.

“Are you okay, Yams?” You laugh, brushing your fingers through his hair and he just nods and holds your hand to his face while he half hums, half sings some of the lyrics to you.

“Holy shit, Yamaguchi can SING?” The Karasuno boys would go crazy. Cue Sugawara asking the owner of the establishment you guys are at to play a specific song he knows that Yamaguchi loves. All of them crowding around you guys like some acappella group, singing along with Yamaguchi.

You’re just like oh my god what is wrong with you all but like it’s the cutest thing ever. You filmed it. Posted it on your Insta.

Yamaguchi is famous now because girls are DYING over his voice and how he looks at you when he sings. He is very embarrassed but likes that you were so proud of him that you posted about him because this boi insecure please go love him the way he deserves.

When I think of Kageyama drunk, I’m thinking of his little dance before the meat BBQ scene at training camp LOL (note the gif above). This boy is dancing very awkwardly but he moving because he happy. But also like singing? Um no, he’s nervous thank you very much. He doesn’t really hum or sing in general so drunk Kageyama isn’t much different but if he hears you singing??? He starts giving you puppy eyes because he loves your voice so much. So you start singing to him and he’s nodding along with a little smile on his face. And then he starts singing too? At first it’s more like speak-singing but then he gets really into it (while also dancing very awkwardly) and he has???? such a nice??? voice???? like sir??? Why have you spent so much time yelling at Hinata when you could be singing?

He’ll like pinch your cheeks a little while he’s singing to you and is all red-faced because a) drunk and b) his inner self is like omg this is embarrassing please stop but he loves you so much he can’t help himself.  

** ** ** ** ** **

As usual, reblogs, comments, and likes and any sort of feedback are all appreciated! :)

Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added to a permanent Haikyuu taglist!) @aurumk​ (just cause I told you I was writing this and I know you were excited for it haha)

[milks-writings]

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ ｡⋆♡° ✫  ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ ｡⋆♡° ✫

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ PAIRING: Atsumu Miya x Male!Reader

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ WARNINGS: mention of stabbing, Hurt buT LOTS OF CUDDLES AND COMFORT AFTERWARD, mention of death (meaning of the red anemone)

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ REQUEST: all right so.. atsumu ⭐️ can you please write m!reader and him being teammates and reader being a big friend of osamu. he knows that reader is gay and in love with his brother, so he always like.. quietly supports him and takes care of him, helping with reader’s crush on his chaotic brother :D so imagine a training camp mhm, the team spends all the time together and reader has all this *gay panic* since atsumu is always there, near him (i also just can tell atsumu is damn handsy person) atsumu is mocking reader (in a loving way of course, cuz he crushes over a sweet boy himself) since reader is that shy and cute, but he doesn’t understand his words hurt him because reader is too sensitive to his words and actually thinks that atsumu is making fun of him. so just one day without any intense atsumu makes reader cry with his mocking and like.. he has no idea what to do and he’s like “eey.. wait.. wait! samu! he’s crying! what should i do?!” :0 please gimme some hurt/comfort 🤍

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ A/N: OMG YES ATSUMU REQUEST HASHDFHIXOANSDF THANKS SO MUCH I LOVE THIS MAN--

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ Masterlist

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ Scenario: After one loss would always follow one win

Shuffling over the court and leaving some squeaking noises behind was almost a calming sound that came to your ears, echoing through the big volleyball court. Between the two sides, of your teams side and the other teams side was only a net that divided the thick air. There would be always one team at least one point ahead, and depending on who it was, the air seemed to be bearable or rather toxic and suffocating.

It was only a training camp, yet the feelings were fatal. Each point would cause the opposite team to get panic, to fill up with the anxious feeling that screams ‘Just one point’

No one would give up so easily. No one wanted to give up so easily. It was just a training camp, yet it felt like their life depended on this whole game. Each point felt like the string was about to just cut into a half, but no one knew who would get the longer string since the scissors were wandering on the string, waiting for some random moment to finally break the nervous atmosphere and end this whole game that drove everyone insane. The heavy breaths filled the court with some kind of beat, since at this point everyone just wanted to rest, yet no one was ready to give up already. Until the last bit of power would they fight.

For a brief moment, you thought, only a brief second, Atsumu would look back at you. The tiring game must’ve made you delusional. It was quite some while since you guys played against such a great team, also known as Itachiyama. Osamu had told you quite often that Atsumu never really labelled himself with a sexuality, giving you at least some rising hope. Honestly, your crush towards him felt like trying to take care of an almost dead flower. And not just one flower, it was the well known  red anemone that symbolizes death or the act of forsaken love. For some reason, it never wanted to open up. The petals stayed up, risen to the sky and not showing the truth behind the facade of the red petals. The secret was just laying on the stigma of the flower, waiting to get opened like a present and to outshine everyone's appearances. But as long as the flower wouldn’t open, the love felt one sided.

The last point felt like a long moment of silence. It wasn’t a real game, yet it was laying heavily on your shoulders. Your team lost. Kita would be disappointed, but you just knew that he wouldn’t scold you. As a Libero it was literally your duty to keep the ball over the floor. Even if it was one centimetre, one finger between the ball and the floor, anything could be done to win this god damn game. For a moment, your mind tricked you into thinking that this was an actual game, but seeing the others just walking off with the words “thanks for the training game.”

Osamu already had taken place beside you with two bottles of water, passing you one of the ones he held while just letting out a small sigh. “That was intense” He admitted, and if he said such a thing he really meant it. He was fucking right. This game was intense.

The water slowly went down your throat, giving you a cool down and filling your senses with some refreshing thoughts, among with the thought of Atsumu.

That’s right, the boy you have a crush on, the boy who is the twin of one of your closest friends, Osamu Miya. It was like your thoughts had to manifest the boy that filled your mind with worries but also with dreams you never thought would come true. “Hey!” The setters hand landed on your shoulder, making your cheeks heat up and leaving a pinkish blush on them, almost like it was naturally after a hard game. But sadly the blush didn’t blend in, it rather made your red exhausted face ever worse. You could swear, for a moment the wind hit the anemone, almost opening the flowers with the sweet sound of the wind blowing but somehow the windflower stayed closed, not letting you enter yet.

“Ya wanna grab some food with me and ‘Samu?” Atsumu asked you, making you slowly nod in agreement.

It has been a curse or a blessing that Atsumu always suggested you three to hang out. Being around those Twins was like walking on a thin rope, over the water with shaky feet. You could never know what would happen, if the rope would just tear apart or if you would fall into the water out of balance and if anyone would safe you. “I didn’t even agree, jerk!” Osamu huffed out at Atsumu’s statement. And there they went again. Barking at each other like two mad dogs, yet they didn’t rip their heads off since they still loved each other as siblings. Osamu soon snapped out of it though, and gave you all his attention again. “Ya want onigiri?” His eyebrow raised in sync with his words, like the words were pulling it slowly up and the question mark set an end to the pulling, but instead tilted his head to the side. With slowly moving your head up and down as a nod, you answered his question. It was the first day of the training camp so the left overs from the drive to the training camp were still good and it would’ve been a pity to let them get bad. “Yer just tryna to get him fat!” Atsumu snapped at Osamu, somewhat sounding mad for something. You weren’t sure if Atsumu preferred skinny people -- or if he was trying to make sure that Osamu wouldn’t feed you too much so you could still eat together. Nevertheless, you didn’t take it personally, yet. Just brushed it off and moved on, thinking that nothing too bad could happen with ignoring that. “No I am not! Back off pisshair!” Osamu complained with a hiss. Sometimes he could only wonder how you could fall in love with such an idiot like him. “Let’s grab some food” You finally broke the heavy and almost hatred atmosphere that was among you three thanks to the twins. No one could blame them though. It was just a typical conversation between two siblings.

A small wind seemed to have blown over the flower when you three were sitting in the small cafeteria and chatted. The anemone was about to open, to show it’s real colour, but you got hit with the train of disappointment as soon as Atsumu let his guards down again and begun to mock you. “Yer aren’t in yer top form today huh?” Atsumu smirk only grew with the last words, beginning to push you into the corner of just a breakdown. “Not really” You honestly admitted. It always had been him mocking you, him pushing you off your edge emotionally. With pressing your lips together you hoped to swallow the slightly painful comment down your throat, but nothing seemed to help. “Yer gotta be more self confident!” Atsumu implied, almost complained about you. He wanted to help you. For the three people on the table, Osamu, Atsumu and you it was very clear that Atsumu cared about you, but the way he would say things would be sometimes sharp, like a stab in your heart. But in reality he would be patting your head and stabbing your negative feelings instead of you. “Listen, it’s not easy you know” Your voice laid hoarse in the room, creating a short yet uncomfortable silence. Just when Osamu was about to butt in, Atsumu had taken advantage of the situation. “What if yer-” Just as Atsumu was about to continue his sentence, the tears that you had swallowed down along with the rice balls had just came up, running down your cheeks. The mocking sometimes got overwhelming to you. All you wanted were sweet words, but all you got was sweet mocks. Of course, it was probably his way to tell you that he liked you… or not. “No no pretty boy don’t ya cry!” Atsumu’s voice was filled with worries and confusion, immediately jumping up and sitting besides you. Osamu, who sat on the other side of you, just let Atsumu be. He should take care of you. He was the one who thought that mocking was a way for flirting and a way of showing someone his love. “Osamu what should I do?” he asked confused, but his twin just carelessly kept eating the Onigiri, like you two had been ghosts.

The tears that had been just streaming down your cheeks were like a soft, yet meaningful wind that had blown over the red windflower. With the soft wind blow, the dead petals fell down onto the ground, and the flower opened like a present, showing of its beautiful colourful petals. They were glowing under the rain, almost like the sun kept on shining behind the clouds. If a human eye would get to see the bright presence of the flower, they could forget for a second about the rain that was pouring down. And if someone, who saw the flower opening up and showing their beauty, would see that it was actually a white anemone, just waiting to show their sincerity.

“Hey hey hey- I didn’t mean to hurt you!” Atsumu said while getting a hold of your hands, “I really like you, you know and I tried to flirt with you” It was like he begun to rant his heart out, not trying to find an excuse to hurt you, but to explain the situation to you. To make you understand better, to cheer you a little up. “Let’s uh… Let’s get some food, huh? Or a warm tea?” Atsumu offered, not letting you talk until now. The tears that had been streaming down your face became less and less after seeing the not red, but actually white anemone in his eyes. The rain stopped.

“You… you do like me?” Your voice was dipped in some spark of hope, and also sealed with some confusion.

“Do ya want tea?” “Atsumu do you really like me or did you use it to cheer me up?” “I am not sure,” “You have to give me an honest answer. Yes or no.” With a sigh the boy finally gave in. It was useless to fight with you now. “Yeah kinda like ya” a small pout formed on his lips, seeming to be rather a little embarrassed than pleased by saying that.

“I like you too” There was nothing to save or to destroy now. You had been at your end, emotionally, and Atsumu also just opened up like a book, letting you read whatever had been written deep down in his feelings and mind. “Yer want cuddles?”

That question took you off guard.

Cuddles was the last thing you would expect him to ask you, but could you say no?

With a small sob that had been still saved from the crying just a few minutes ago your head slowly motioned to a yes, making his goofy smile grow. “Good thing we share a room!” He cheered, ruffling your hair.

After that sentence you can guess what happened.

Lots of loving cuddles and hugs were exchanged this night.

After one loss would always follow one win.

«𝐛𝐲 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞»

[anothertimdrakestan]

Sweater Weather (Damian Wayne x Reader)

words: 1.4k

req from a lovely anon: “Could maybe please write a songfic for Damian and the reader? The song being Sweater Weather? It could be sfw or nsfw, whatever you're comfortable with. However, if you're not comfortable with this request, that's ok! I LOVE your writing and respect you as the author. Anywayssss, have a great day! 💞💞”

hi love!!! thank you for the req! i’m not very practiced at songfics but i tried and i stole all the inspiration for this story from my real life eheheh so here’s some insight to my messy love life lmao. also! for my songfics at least i don’t include lyrics because for me they pull me out of the story but if you know the song you’ll notice a lot of dialogue/descriptions are pulled straight from the song hehe! i hope you enjoy!

“I’ve got the taser, kick them in the balls if they try me, and scream” you repeated in your head as you made your way down the streets of Gotham, was it quite late to be going out for a bite to eat? Yes. But you’d been studying and felt that a midnight snack was well deserved. 

Bag of food in hand you were headed back, taking a familiar shortcut you used to get to downtown all the time. Unfortunately, you failed to remember that the alleyway on fifth was never safe after sunset, but your mind auto-piloted you that way and now you were about 85% sure you were about to have to beat some ass to defend your food in a few minutes. 

“C’mere princess gimme a smile” a deep voice slurred as you continued past, other deep growls of agreement and hoots echoed around the alley. “C’mon babe I don’t see anyone with ya! pretty gal like you’z should be snatched up” you cringed at his wording hoping there was no double meaning as you hurried past. “Tt, she’s with me” a voice hissed as a cloaked vigilante dropped in front of you. “Hey Rob” you smiled sheepishly, knowing he had probably been watching you for a couple minutes. “Y/n, come, let’s go” Damian’s slightly fake Robin voice always made you roll your eyes but you knew there was no chance in hell he was letting you walk away, so you let him loop his left hand around your waist and pull you out of the alleyway towards your favorite rooftop. 

Before your feet touched the rooftop you were getting lectured. “Y/n you know I’m a call away when you want to go out like this! It’s not safe here you know this!” you looked at him with a bored expression. “Dames I’m not a baby plus you trained the crap out of me I could’ve easily protected myself and you know it. So why the heroism tonight?” you asked, cocking your head to the side while Damian did his favorite move besides pulling out a sword: changing the subject. “It’s too cold, look, you’re shivering. Here.” he grumbled, pulling off his cloak and draping it around your neck as you clasped it, grateful for the warmth but angered from the lack of answers. 

You didn’t need to bug him, just give him a knowing look and he was soon sitting with you on the rooftop staring out at the skyline. And you just sat like that, in silence, for a little bit. Not that you minded- there wasn’t much for you to say while Damian clearly was deep in his own thoughts.

“I wanted to save you” he broke the silence. You turned to him, “you’ve been saving me since we were kids man it just hasn’t been a recent thing. What aren’t you saying?” you cut off your thought to see if he’d give you more. 

“Trust my y/n there’s nothing I wouldn’t want to tell you about” his whispered before standing up with his grappling hook. “You don’t want your food to get cold” he mumbled as you silently agreed, moving to take off the cloak. “It’ll be cold, leave it on” were the last words before he whisked you home, helping you sneak through your window like always. “Bye Dami” you whispered, meeting his domino mask covered eyes that just stared at you for a couple seconds, but with a little nod he was off. 

With a stretch you decided to leave the cloak on, it was surprisingly warm and you didn’t want to lose it as it was probably quite expensive. You got out your food, just a couple bites in when you heard a knock on your window. Getting up was Damian, this time without his mask on, sat with unreadable eyes that were searching frantically until they met yours. 

Sliding the window open you stepped back to let him in when he pulled you out of the window and onto the roof of your home. With a small yelp you stared at him, waiting for an explanation. 

Damian took a deep breath. “I didn’t finish answering your question” he said gruffly as you cocked your head to the side. “Okay?" you replied.

“I wanted to save you,” his eyes cast down and his tone quieted as he said “because I couldn’t imagine my life without you y/n” You felt your chest tighten, all the nights you spent wondering if Damian would ever feel the same way you did, the nights you spent writing Y/n Wayne on papers then erasing it with a giggle, and all the moments where you considered how difficult it would be to go from best friends to something else- all started flooding to the front of your brain. “Play it cool y/n” you chided. 

“Aw Dames you know I couldn’t either!” you nodded, giving him a soft smile which got wiped off your face when he shook his head. “No, not like that- god I am so bad at explaining this” he groaned, looking like he was going to give up. But he continued, “what I want is different, different from what we’ve got. I want a future, a person who wants me, a love, I want love.” his voice was strained as he paused to look at you. 

“You want those, with me?” you gulped. 

He nodded. “Yeah, i-is that bad?” you could tell he was holding his breath.

“Not bad, definitely the opposite. Good, very very good” you mumbled, watching his eyes fall down to your lips. 

“So if that’s what I want, what do you want?” he whispered, toying with the material of his cloak that you were still wearing. 

“I want you Dami” his eyes snapped to yours, like he was processing everything hitting him all at once. 

His hands had made it higher up the cloak now, and you felt him tentatively tug you forward, his eyes meeting yours one last time to confirm that everything he’d been dreaming about for months was really about to happen. 

And then he kissed you.

It was soft, and tentative, and careful. But it was also warm and overflowing with love. His hands moved to cup your cheek while you linked your arms around his neck, pulling him into the kiss. 

Pulling apart Damian’s lips were upturned into the tiniest smile, but it said more than a million words to you. 

“So you gonna ask me out orrrrrr” you teased with a wink while Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, was the moonlit kiss not good enough for you ms. l/n” he scrunched his nose while you laughed. “No I just wish I could’ve filmed your whole ‘I want love’ speech. It was very un-“i-was-trained-as-a-baby-assassin-with-no-emotions” of you! I’m quite proud wanna give it another go so I can show Bruce?” you laughed as Damian glared at you. “Don’t make me resend my offer, I could change my want’s at anytime you know” he said very matter-of-factly while you couldn’t help but snort. 

“Puh-leez you’d give the speech again if it meant you could steal another kiss” you tapped his chest knowingly when his hand shot out to grab yours. He laced his fingers in between yours saying, “from my knowledge you were the one of said you wanted me, and since I’m yours and you’re mine, I pretty much get a kiss whenever I want, it’s hardly stealing” he finished by pulling your lips onto his as he smirked into the kiss. “Hm whatever you say lovebird”

“You cannot call me that”

“I’m pretty sure I get to call you whatever I want lover boy” 

“Absolutely not”

“Love bird, lover boy, softie, cutie, baby bird, wow there’s like infinite nicknames here” you gasped with laughter.

“What have I gotten myself into” he chuckled as you grinned, diving in for a quick peck before you decided it was enough loving for one night, the cloak was warm but it was nothing compared to the sweater you’d stolen from Dami a couple weeks past. You’d been outside more tonight than in the last month and desperately needed something to warm you up. It was finally sweater weather after all.