#i'm really not that knowledgeable about it all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

justlemmeadoreyou · 3 days

Text

3. protectively watchful (restaurant owner!harry x chef!reader)

(part 1 here) | (part 2 here)

summary: you take up on the mantorship offer, but it creates more tensions and turmoil within you than were before. an incident in the kitchen makes harry go into protective mode, and you can't help but get turned on by this man more and more.

words: 4.8k

warnings: sexual tension (like A LOT), inappropriate behaviour, protective!harry.

***

"You wanted to see me, Chef?"

You gave a light knock on the open door of Harry's office, trying to sound polite and professional. It had been a few weeks since you had that talk with Harry about keeping things strictly business between you two. During that time, he had been a perfect mentor - giving you advice and guidance without any flirting or suggestive comments.

His coaching had really helped improve your cooking skills as you soaked up all his knowledge and experience. You were grateful to have a normal working relationship again, focused solely on culinary training. And yet...you couldn't ignore the faint lingering tension between you, that subtle underlying charge.

Harry looked up from the notebooks on his desk, his eyes crinkling in a warm smile when he saw you. "Ah, there you are. Come on in, have a seat."

You sat down in one of the chairs across from him as Harry neatened up the loose papers into a stack. Up close, you couldn't help noticing how well-fitted his black button-down shirt was, or how his tousled hair looked very touchable.

Firmly reminding yourself this was just a professional meeting, you averted your eyes politely until Harry cleared his throat.

"So as you know, the big Martin gala fundraiser is coming up in a few weeks," he began, shuffling through some folders. "It's one of the biggest events of the year for underprivileged culinary education programs. I'll be preparing the featured dish for their live auction, and I'd love for you to assist me on it."

Your eyes went wide with surprise at this prestigious opportunity. The Martin gala was a hugely famous event in Chicago's culinary scene, attracting all the wealthiest and most notable diners. For an up-and-coming chef to collaborate on the centerpiece dish was an amazing honor and chance to get exposure.

"Wow, yes of course!" you replied enthusiastically. "I would be absolutely honored, Chef. Thank you for this incredible opportunity."

Harry's dimples deepened as he smiled approvingly. "Don't thank me yet. We'll be under a huge spotlight to deliver an amazing showstopper dish. I expect you to rise to the challenge."

You quickly nodded. "You can count on me to give it my absolute best effort. I'm ready to do whatever work is needed."

"Excellent," Harry said in a slightly lower, huskier tone. "That's exactly what I like to hear."

For a moment, his voice had a heated quality that hinted at other situations where your eagerness might be welcome. You ignored the shiver it sent through you, reminding yourself this was strictly business now between you two.

Harry seemed to realize he was skirting the line, as he abruptly straightened up and all hints of flirtation disappeared as he switched fully into mentor mode. "Right, well let me walk you through my basic vision so far..."

You leaned forward attentively as he outlined preliminary ideas for a highly ambitious and avant-garde dish blending molecular gastronomy techniques with classic French cuisine fundamentals. It was wildly cutting-edge, even for a showpiece event like the Martin gala. But the more details Harry provided, the more that same thrill of adrenaline rushed through you whenever presented with a new culinary challenge to conquer.

For the next hour, the two of you bounced ideas back and forth in that unique creative flow state that chefs share. Harry's presence was magnetic, but you refused to get distracted by more physical aspects - like the stretch of his biceps against his crisp sleeves, the hint of toned abs beneath his open collar, or the raspy timbre of his voice dipping into that lower register as he passionately discussed certain techniques.

And oh, his damn tattoos.

No, you sternly told yourself as the conversation began wrapping up. Those days of getting flustered around him were over. Harry had made it clear where you stood, and you fully accepted those boundaries. Anything else was just self-torture.

"...but of course, those are just preliminary thoughts," Harry was saying as he collected the scattered folders into a neat pile. "We'll have plenty of time to refine the details over the next couple weeks."

You nodded, filing away the mental notes you'd taken during the discussion. "Absolutely, Chef. Just let me know whatever you need for prep or testing different ideas to get a head start."

"Will do." With an air of finality, Harry gathered up the pile and rose from his seat. You quickly stood up as well, not wanting him to loom over you in the enclosed space. For a beat, you both hovered awkwardly, the air seeming to thicken between you.

"Well then," Harry said, making no move to step past you towards the door. "I'd say this calls for a drink to celebrate our new collaboration, wouldn't you agree?"

Before you could reply, he turned and went to a small antique cabinet tucked in an alcove you hadn't noticed before. With a practiced hand, Harry selected a heavy glass decanter and two tumblers, placing them on the cabinet and expertly twisting off the stopper.

"Let's go with Lagavulin," he mused aloud, carefully pouring two generous glasses of the amber scotch whisky. "A good Scottish whisky seems appropriate for the occasion."

"I really shouldn't, Chef," you said reflexively, already picturing your lightweight self getting sloppy and unprofessional after even a single drink.

But Harry just chuckled softly. "Loosen up a little. It's a celebration, after all."

He emphasized this by bringing one of the heavy tumblers over and pressing the cool glass into your hand. You frowned down at the coppery liquid, worrying your lower lip uncertainly. But before you could protest further, Harry gently clinked his glass against yours in a silent toast before taking a sizable sip.

The whisky's smoky, peaty aroma seemed to wrap around you intimately. Despite your hesitation, you couldn't help giving an appreciative inhale before taking a small, tentative sip yourself. Bold, layered flavors of vanilla, caramel, and charred oak underscored by an earthy smokiness burst over your tongue. You let out a soft sigh of indulgent pleasure at the decadent taste.

"Good, isn't it?" Harry's gravelly voice made you start slightly. He was watching you with amusement, whisky glass dangling casually from those large, handsome fingers. "It really hits you in the back of the throat, makes you slow down and savor it fully."

You suddenly realized the suggestive implication behind his phrasing and felt a flush of heat bloom across your face and chest. Harry watched the play of emotions flickering over your features with relish before taking another indulgent sip. This time, you noticed the way his full lips pursed delicately to drink, the tiny furrow of concentration between his brows as he savored the flavor before swallowing.

Unconsciously, your eyes tracked the mesmerizing flex of his throat as he swallowed, the hint of stubble grazing along his chiseled jawline. A twinge low in your abdomen accompanied the thought of feeling that scratchy burn of beard between your thighs, that talented mouth working magic elsewhere on your body.

Mortified, you shut down that wayward trail of thought through sheer willpower. Your cheeks grew even hotter as you realized Harry had caught you staring, his own gaze darkly amused.

"Easy there," he murmured huskily, stepping a bit deeper into your personal space. "This dish is a marathon, not a sprint. Best to learn to savor every indulgent morsel along the way."

With a pointed look and arched brow, Harry raised his whisky to those plump lips once more, holding your gaze as he placed the rim against that full lower lip and let out an obscenely gratifying groan of pure delight.

Moments after, the tension had subsided, but the flush and blush that had creeped up your cheeks wasn’t going away anytime soon–you were sure of that.

***

You tried to push aside the lingering thoughts about the “Celebration” that were now implaed into your mind, and the way tiny droplets of the drink remained on his lips till he licked them off with his tongue–

You wanted that tongue to be yours.

Shaking your head, you focused on prepping the ingredients for the evening service. The dinner rush would be starting soon and you needed to have everything ready. As you worked, you were vaguely aware of the dining room filling up with patrons being seated. The sounds and aromas of the bustling kitchen surrounded you in a familiar, comforting way.

You were so engrossed in your tasks that you didn't notice the man approach until he cleared his throat loudly. Looking up, you saw a smartly-dressed diner smiling at you in a way that made you instinctively uncomfortable.

"Well, hello there," he said in a syrupy tone. "I was just admiring the delicious-looking fare over here." He raked an obvious look up and down your body. "The menu selections have my mouth watering already."

You stiffened, recognizing the overly familiar leer. This wasn't the first time you'd dealt with an obnoxious patron hitting on you. Keeping your expression neutral, you replied in a polite but firm tone. "I'm afraid you'll need to return to the dining room, sir. The kitchen is off-limits to guests."

Rather than taking the hint, the man leaned nonchalantly against your prep station. "Don't be like that, sweetheart. I was just hoping you could suggest something...special for me to sample tonight." He punctuated this with an exaggerated wink.

Suppressing a grimace, you turned away to continue your work, hoping he would give up and leave. No such luck. The lech sidled closer until he was nearly pressed against you. "What do you say? I'd love for a tasty little thing like you to--"

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the kitchen area immediately." Harry's firm baritone cut across the man's words like a whip crack.

You looked up in relief to see your boss standing with arms crossed, jaw clenched as he glared at the offending patron. Even from several feet away, you could sense the potent force of his displeasure rolling off him in waves.

The diner seemed to shrink slightly under Harry's censorious scowl. "Oh, uh, my apologies. I was just trying to get some personal recommendations--"

"The kitchen is off-limits and you're making my staff uncomfortable," Harry interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "I won't ask again. Return to your table or you'll be asked to leave the premises."

Looking sufficiently cowed, the lech swiftly retreated with some mumbled apologies. You exhaled slowly, trying to dispel the anxiety brought on by the unpleasant encounter. Harry stepped closer, his expression softening as he looked you over with concern.

"You okay? That asshole didn't go too far, did he?"

You managed a faint smile, oddly touched by the protective edge in his voice. "I'm fine, Chef. Just another boorish customer thinking the uniform is a dinner invitation."

His jaw tightened again as he scowled in the direction the man had gone. "That type of behavior is completely unacceptable. You let me know right away if anyone hassles you like that again, understand?"

Nodding, you found yourself blinking rapidly against the unexpected prickle of grateful tears at having Harry firmly in your corner, despite the complicated dynamics between you lately.

For a long moment, he watched you carefully as if gauging your equilibrium. Then Harry surprised you by reaching out and briefly squeezing your shoulder in a reassuring gesture. The warmth of his large hand seeped through your uniform, leaving a tingly imprint even after he pulled away.

"I've got your back, [Y/N]. You focus on doing your job and let me deal with any assholes who get out of line."

The gruff tenderness in his words made your heart do a traitorous little flip in your chest. You nodded again, not trusting your voice enough to respond properly.

With one final pointed look, Harry turned and headed back out to his front-of-house duties. As you watched his broad-shouldered form disappear through the swinging doors of the kitchen, you felt a complicated tangle of gratitude, protectiveness, affection...and yes, a lingering undercurrent of attraction that you couldn't seem to fully extinguish despite your best efforts.

You spent the rest of the dinner service determinedly pushing aside any lingering thoughts about Harry or the earlier incident. Focusing fully on your work was the only way to get through these confusing emotions that had you all over the place..

The rhythm of prepping, plating, and coordinating with the other line cooks settled into a familiar, reassuring routine. The constant flurry of chopping, sautéing, and barked orders provided a sort of meditative escape from your muddled headspace.

By the time the last diner had been served and the kitchen was winding down for the night, you felt pleasantly drained in that satisfying way that comes from a job well done. As you began breaking down your station for cleaning, Harry emerged from his office looking satisfied.

"Excellent work tonight, everyone," he called out in that effortlessly commanding tone. "Front-of-house said the new salmon dish was a huge hit. We'll definitely want to keep that one on the seasonal menu."

A chorus of tired but pleased murmurs went around the kitchen at the praise. Harry's eyes found yours amidst the small crowd, holding your gaze a beat longer than strictly necessary before moving on to the other cooks. You tried not to read too much into it.

With the nightly pep talk concluded, Harry rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white chef's coat, joining everyone in the evening breakdown and cleaning duties. You watched surreptitiously as he expertly broke down one of the grill stations, muscles in his broad forearms flexing enticingly with each efficient movement.

Get a grip, you scolded yourself, quickly refocusing on scrubbing down your own prep area. This was exactly the kind of distracted, unprofessional behavior you were trying to avoid lately around Harry.

Despite your best efforts, however, you couldn't fully ignore him moving about the kitchen, checking in with each station to oversee their sanitation. At one point, he paused to examine some utensils that hadn't been properly cleaned, tsking in displeasure before batting them aside to be re-scrubbed.

"That's never going to meet inspection," he chided the sheepish-looking young line cook in his trademark gruff tone. "Do it again, and do it properly this time. We're not running a greasy spoon here."

As much as his uncompromising attitude could be intimidating, you also found it oddly...thrilling to witness Harry taking charge so authoritatively. Not to mention the visual of those powerful hands deftly at work was sending your thoughts in an unprofessional direction yet again.

Sternly redirecting your focus, you turned your back to give the area behind the grill station a thorough scrubbing. You were so engrossed that you nearly jumped out of your skin when Harry's low voice sounded directly in your ear.

"Everything looking good over here?"

You whirled around to find him looming directly behind you, near enough that you could smell the spicy notes of his subtle cologne mingling with the lingering kitchen aromas clinging to him. Up this close, you couldn't help noticing how the top buttons of his coat had come undone at some point, offering a teasing glimpse of the toned chest beneath.

Trying not to stare, you quickly averted your eyes as you nodded. "Y-yes, Chef. All clean on this side."

"Hmm." His assessing gaze slowly raked over your work before returning to your flushed face. The tiniest of smirks played about his lips as if he could read the direction of your thoughts.

"Well, then. Carry on," was all he said before turning and strolling unhurriedly back towards his office, burgundy cargo pants slung enticingly low on those lean hips.

You let out a shaky breath, mentally cursing how easily flustered you still became around this man, no matter how much you tried to enforce boundaries. Resolutely, you refocused on finishing your cleaning tasks, determined to get out of there before any more distracted lapses in professionalism.

By the time the kitchen had been scoured from top to bottom, you were one of the last few staffers remaining. Wearily peeling off your apron, you were just reaching for your bag when Harry reappeared, looking unhurried and relaxed now that the nightly duties were done.

"Heading out?" he asked as you approached, one thick eyebrow raised questioningly.

You stifled a yawn with the back of your hand. "Yeah, I'm beat. Gonna try and get some extra sleep before the morning prep shift tomorrow."

He made a noncommittal sound, falling into step beside you as you headed for the employee exit out back. For a few moments, you walked in silence, oddly aware of the warmth radiating off his body this close to yours.

When he finally spoke, it wasn't at all what you expected. "You did good with that asshole customer earlier."

Your steps faltered slightly at the praise before quickly recovering. "Oh...uh, thanks, Chef. You really didn't need to step in like that."

"The hell I didn't," he countered gruffly. There was an edge to his tone that made the tiny hairs at your nape prickle. "No one treats my staff like piece of meat, especially not in my own goddamn kitchen."

Harry shook his head in disgust at the very idea, causing a lock of mahogany hair to fall rakishly across his furrowed brow in a way that really shouldn't have been as distracting as it was.

Swallowing hard, you refocused on the matter at hand. "I've dealt with guys like that before. Just comes with the territory sometimes, y'know?"

"That doesn't make it acceptable," he insisted, mouth setting into a grim line. You found yourself unable to look away from the sharp angles of his frowning profile, chiseled jaw ticking faintly with irritation, that he tried to mask.

He fixed you with those intense pale eyes, all traces of humor gone. "No one - and I mean no one - gets to treat any of you with disrespect while I'm in charge around here. I won't stand for that shit under my roof."

The ferocity in his tone sent an involuntary shiver rippling through you, though from wariness or...something else entirely, you couldn't say. All you knew was the low, authoritative resonance of Harry's voice carried an unmistakable air of command that raised goosebumps along your arms.

Maybe it was the late hour, or the fact you were walking in such close proximity out of public view. Or hell, maybe it was just the sheer presence of this man who could flip between stern taskmaster and something rawer, more carnal in the blink of an eye.

Whatever it was, you felt that subtle spark between you ignite and suddenly, you desperately needed to be alone to process the yearning that flickered to life low in your belly. Before you could consider the impulse further, you were blurting out the first excuse that came to mind.

"Well, thanks again for that. And for the whole mentorship thing too. I, uh...I actually have some errands to run, so I'll just catch you tomorrow morning, 'kay?"

You didn't even give Harry a chance to respond before ducking through the exit, muscles taut with confused tension. As the cool night enveloped you, you drew a deep, shuddering breath in an effort to steady yourself.

Whatever weird atmospheric flux had momentarily enveloped you back there was too dangerous, too distracting from the tenuous balance you and Harry had only just reestablished. No, it was better to put some space between you before things got muddied again.

With a fierceness born of sheer force of will, you wrestled your turbulent, wandering thoughts back under control. You were a professional, with goals to work towards. Getting pulled into Harry's electrifying orbit again would only derail you.

Still, as you hurried to your car, his shape-shifting countenance kept flashing unbidden across your memory - the dazzling smile, the brooding intensity, the simmering promise of authority barely restrained. All of it provided an infuriatingly potent combination that had your body humming with repressed longing despite yourself.

This was going to take more effort than you'd anticipated.

***

The next couple of weeks passed in a blur of grueling practice runs and preparation for the Martin gala. You and Harry spent nearly every waking hour in the kitchen, iterating endlessly on his showpiece dish concept.

With the prestigious event date rapidly approaching, any lingering awkwardness or tension between you had been shifted firmly into the background. The shared urgency of perfecting this culinary masterpiece became an all-consuming focus that left little room for anything else.

Still, that didn't stop you from noticing...things.

Like how the sleeves of Harry's whites had an endearing tendency to get shoved up his forearms in a way that displayed those tanned, sinewy muscles to distracting effect as he worked. You definitely didn't linger over the sight of his strong hands deftly wielding a knife, making precise, practiced cuts. And you absolutely did not imagine those dexterous fingers trailing across your skin instead of the cutting board.

At least, that's what you sternly told yourself in an ongoing effort to maintain focus.

For his part, Harry was all business during these preparation sessions - issuing clipped instructions, evaluating ingredients with a critical eye, pushing both of you relentlessly to get every component just right. Only rarely did you catch hints of something more underneath that professional veneer.

Like the time you were bent over a burner, carefully spooning out the orbs of flavored olive oil onto the waiting plate. Harry stepped up behind you to examine your work, the warmth of his body radiating against your back. As he leaned in closer to inspect the delicate orbs, his low murmur caressed the fine hairs at your nape in a way that made you shiver.

"That's it...go nice and slow with a deft touch," he rumbled in that raspy timbre that never failed to send tingles shooting straight to your core.

Heart pounding, you risked a sidelong glance to find his pale eyes already locked on yours, glittering with an intensity that contrasted sharply with his deceptively neutral expression. A charged moment stretched between you as that underlying spark you'd been determinedly ignoring flared, sudden and molten.

Just when you thought you might spontaneously combust, Harry blinked and cleared his throat brusquely. "Carry on, then," he instructed in his normal crisp tone before turning away to focus on another component.

You stood motionless for several heartbeats, fingers clenched around the spoon, skin flushed and tingling in equal measures of arousal and disbelief. Did that really just happen or had the endless hours in the kitchen started affecting your mind?

Too skittish to ponder it further, you dove back into your tasks with even more single-minded focus, the uneasy moment shelved and locked away tight. No matter what fleeting tension arose in isolated pockets, you couldn't afford to unpack it right now - not with the enormity of what was at stake.

The days ticked down in a relentless march until finally, you and Harry stood in the solitude of his spartan office the night before the big event, taking a breather from your marathon final prep session.

An ungodly number of mise en place containers filled every available surface, each holding fussed-over components of the highly elaborate and conceptual dish that would make its debut tomorrow. Harry had pushed you both to your physical and creative limits, drilling the execution repeatedly until he was satisfied you could plate it flawlessly under the anticipated scrutiny.

Now, having quality-checked and prepped every last possible element, there was nothing further to do except rest up and bring your sharpest mental game tomorrow. Harry seemed to deflate slightly as the backdrop of mounting pressure decreased for the first time in weeks.

Propping his hip against the desk with studied nonchalance, he quirked one eyebrow in a sidelong glance. "You ready for this?"

Despite your weariness, you felt that familiar thrill of adrenaline stir at those simple words - as well as a contradictory quiver of nerves. This event was a make-or-break opportunity of the highest magnitude, especially for someone like you just starting out. Either you nailed your responsibilities tomorrow, or it all came crashing down in front of Chicago's most elite gourmands.

Shoving aside the sudden flutters of doubt, you met Harry's inscrutable gaze head-on, straightening your spine. "You know I am. We've put in the work, and this dish is gonna blow them all away."

A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his sculpted mouth as he studied you appraisingly. "That's what I like to hear. Just remember - all the technique practice in the world won't mean a thing if you panic out there."

The subtle warning made you bristle defensively, never one to back down from a challenge. "I'm not going to panic," you scoffed. "I eat massive amounts of public pressure like this for breakfast."

Harry's eyes danced with amusement, and not for the first time, it struck you how effortlessly he could switch between imposing and playful. "Is that so?" he drawled easily. "In that case, would you care to make things a bit more interesting?"

Before you could respond, Harry kicked off from the desk in one sinuous motion to prowl closer. Despite your weariness, you felt your heart rate kick up several notches as he invaded your personal space, long body coiled with a loose, predatory grace.

"Let's say we raise the stakes a little," he proposed in a tone of studied nonchalance that was completely belied by the heated glint in his eyes boring into yours. "If you can prove you've got the chops to keep a cool head under fire tomorrow, I'll take you out afterwards to celebrate. Just you and me, anywhere you want to go."

Your mouth went instantly dry at the implications behind his offer. Were those...the unmistakable undertones of flirtation coloring his invitation? After the weeks of him keeping things strictly professional between you, the sudden shift was dizzying - and left you dangerously intrigued.

"And what if I choke?" you heard yourself countering recklessly before you could reconsider. "What do you get out of it then?"

His answering smile was pure blistering sin. "Oh, sweetheart. If that happens...I get to take you out too - but somewhere a bit more private."

Harry paused to let the suggestive proposition linger, backing it up with a slow, heated raking of his pale eyes over your body that left zero doubt as to his implication. Heat bloomed furiously across your cheeks as forbidden images flooded your mind unbidden - flashes of tangled limbs, straining muscle, sweaty exertion of a far different sort...

Then, just like that, the provoking spell was broken. Rocking back on his heels, Harry shrugged one broad shoulder in an easy, dismissive gesture. "But that's not going to happen, is it? You've got all the skills, you've put in the time - no reason to buckle tomorrow."

He threw one final weighted glance in your direction before pivoting on his heel towards the door. "Get some rest. I'll see you at the venue early to do our final walkthrough before we get this show on the road."

And with that parting comment, Harry strode casually out, leaving you rooted there in dumbfounded silence. What the hell had just happened? One moment, you'd merely been steeling yourselves for tomorrow's high stakes challenge - and then suddenly he was issuing some bizarrely flirtatious...proposition.

Or was that really what it was? As you stood there chasing replays of his words, his tone, his body language - the whole previous interaction kept taking on a slinkier, more salacious cast. Like maybe your presence of mind was slipping already, causing you to read into things that weren't really there.

No...no, you decided as you hefted your bag, determined to put it all out of your head for now. Harry was just his usual aggravating self, trying to rile you by dangling some imagined reward or punishment to keep you on your toes before the big event. This whole...suggestive semiflirtation thing was just the product of your own exhausted mind playing tricks.

Firmly shoving aside all unsettling thoughts, you focused on the immediate challenge awaiting tomorrow. You would plate Harry's showpiece dish to absolute perfection, prove yourself under the brightest lights, and decisively seize this career-making opportunity.

Everything else could be dealt with later.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this!

feedback | masterlist

taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli

@tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @me-undiscovered @tbsloneely

@whoreonmondays @kathb59 @avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge @harryhitties

@mypolicemanharryyy @theendx888 @ladscarlett @daphnesutton @youcan-nolonger-run @prettythingsworld @chesthairrry

@becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @hisparentsgallerryy @storyschanging @selluequestrian @islakp217 @swiftmendeshoran @princessaxoxo @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hermoinelove @chronicallybubbly @angeldavis777

308 notes · View notes

anyyyyb · 3 days

Text

SPOLER : Bridgerton SEASON 3 pt 2

sooo I just got a call from a friend in Ireland.

She works for a magazine that reviewed Bridgerton Season 3 there & she's given me ALL. THE. SPOILERS.

Skip, if you're not interested.

....

.....

I have no Idea how far down I have to go, so that spoilers aren't shown...

...

Okay, let's hope I'm far enough!

So - we already knew that Pen is gonna accept Colin's proposal.

Eloise is gonna give an ultimatum -

Blah

...

Colin finds out the truth about Whistledown at the end of EP6 - I think that was already common knowledge.

There's a HUGE. BLOWOUT!

buuuuut they "sorta" make up.

Anyway, the exciting thing I really wanted to share is - MICHAEL is MICHAELA!

So yeah, a few of us already suspected, but I have confirmation - They genderbent Michael.

Also NO Sophie in this one. But Ben indicate hell try & be there next season.

Also Bi-Ben confirmed. Y'all will see.

Also - A lot of out faves are gonna get it.

People are gonna be unhappy.

Imma keep more to myself for now & hope my friend can produce some viewing material ♡

But I just wanted to share -> Female Michael. How are we feeling?!

#bridgerton #polin #bridgerton season 3 #julia quinn #francesca bridgerton #john stirling #michael stirling #Franchel #penelope fetherington #colin bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #hannah dodd #luke thompson #spoiler alert

168 notes · View notes

moonsaver · 19 hours

Note

THANK YOU FOR READING MY RAMBLE ABOUT THIS SLUTTY MAN, I have love-hate relationship with Ratio :3 (YOUR WRITING IS AMAZING AS ALWAYS)

BUT ALSO, ANOTHER RAMBLE HERE CAUSE YOU'RE MY FAVORITE WRITER!!

I don't know if you feel uncomfortable/weirded out with this, but if you do! Please do delete this if you want, it's your choice!!

Imagine a child, it can be one of those children in Penacony or other planets. But I pick the child from the Penacony! Walking up to Ratio and S/O, who is probably bickering as per usual or just enjoying one of another times (Secretly, since Ratio wants to be a secretive or this is same past-rebelious but now Professor S/O!)

As the child tugs on S/O, calling them pretty and hugs them. THEN PROCEEDED TO BE LIKE "kay now, you're my parent/mother/father"

LIKE:

"Hey miss/mister/mx! You look very pretty/handsome/unique! Will you be my parent?"

IMAGINE RATIO REACTION, *IF* THE KID IS GONNA BE LIKE

"oh, you're going to be my dad as well/other father/other parent!

OR THE OTHER WAY, HOGGING S/O ATTENTION. Clinging On S/O, regardless how many times S/O tries to get the kid back at their actual and real parents here, and would sometimes spend time hanging out with the kid while also trying to search for the kid parent

(AND ALSO I'M GOING TO SEND SOME RAMBLE ABOUT ROBIN (if you Dont mind!) MY BABY DESERVES THE BEST)

Hello anon! Always happy to answer brain rots and imagines and rambles hehe. Glad to see you back in my inbox!

Also, so cute hehe.

I imagine Dr. Ratio is actually pretty good with kids. The thing with kids is most of them love asking a shit ton of questions, the most ridiculous kinds at that. And you know those people who are so damn smart and knowledgeable in their field they start thinking about possibilities of ridiculous ideas as actually plausible? Veritas would kind of teeter on that when it comes to kids and their imagination. I just can't help but imagine kids crawling all over him while he has a rubber duck in his hand and explains like.. hawking radiation to a kid who's just staring blankly at him.

Honestly, kids would love him. Hes the strange, serious man who always bends down and tells you really confusing but fun stuff about things and seems to know everything. To them, hes the "actual adult".

I imagine, in the case a lost child approaches him or him with his s/o, his first instinct would be just to gauge the general state. He'll simply watch as you pick up the kid and coo at him and all the willy nilly stuff, just glancing over and checking for injuries, signs of anxiety or confusion, frustration, or fear. After he's done looking over, he'd try to ask the child about where their parents are when they perk up about how both of you are their parents now.

Well.. he doesn't know how to respond. You see his eyebrows raise slightly at the kid's remark, but he brushes it off, and starts telling the child all about your embarassing history if you were the rebellious professor!s/o. If you aren't, just about any silly memories he has of you are at the tip of his tongue, and that you really aren't suited for a parental figure. Even if you try and shut him up, he'll simply turn to the kid like, "do not let those who oppress you, silence you." Or something lol.

He doesn't mind the child being all over his s/o, telling them how pretty they are, asking them if they want to be their parent, and so on. Kids are silly, and illogical. It's in their nature to say anything that comes to mind. Of course.. he's slightly sour inside that your conversation was cut short, and now the child's hogging all your attention, but he vehemently pushes it down, simply resolving to search for their parents with you.

It's not soon before the both of you finally find them. Veritas gives them a stern, subtle warning about losing their child while you comfort them, bidding your farewell. It slightly annoys Veritas when the child clings to you, refusing to let go, and all his parents do is laugh it off, saying "they're just very social!" Or something. He has better things to be doing, really. He just walks off and lets you take care of things from there.

If you ask him if he's jealous, he won't say anything, and stare deadpan into your eyes before shrugging it off and changing the topic back to what you both were discussing before. Both of you can have more productive conversations, really.

Although.. his thoughts teeter a bit, and he shortly ponders over what kids with you would be like.. would he want children? Maybe one.. or two.. or even three..

Ugh, he's thinking too far ahead. He resigns to simply paying attention in the present, and listening to you ramble instead.

88 notes · View notes

mousfri · 3 days

Note

do you mind talking about will's narcissism? i see ppl talk about that aspect of hannibal far more. also are you drawing a line between will being narcissistic and hannibal being egotistical for character analysis reasons or just to vary word choice? if it's the former, why do you make that distinction?

part of the reason you won't see much of will's narcissistic traits being mentioned is because a concerning number of fannibals like to misrepresent him as caring and selfless. it's highly ironic given his entire character is based around how desperate he is to pretend he meets that ideal of a loving, stable entirely conventional person.

i do tend to lean towards making a distinction between will's narcissism and hannibal's egotism, but it's not so much in relation to differences in their definitions as it is the meanings i associate with each term. you could probably use them interchangeably if you were going off dictionary definitions, but it's a good way to separate how and why hannibal and will each make self-centred decisions.

hannibal's egotism is grounded in his sense of superiority. he thinks himself better than others, and so he will nearly always prioritise his wants and desires over the wants of others. he is highly capable of observing, understanding and analysing the emotional responses and actions of others - it's what makes him such a good manipulator. he knows EXACTLY how to frighten or comfort or confuse someone. he knows what they want. he simply doesn't care. he does what HE thinks is best regardless of whether the object of that action would agree. selfish decisions are made in the conscious knowledge that he is better and so he MUST BE right.

this is what makes decisions like saving will over killing alana and choosing to give will the benefit of the doubt when he smells freddie on him particularly interesting. it's evidence of will's creeping influence on him, the significance of the opinions and actions of a man who he cannot predict but who he cannot help but hold in the highest regard.

will's tendency to be self-centred predates hannibal's involvement. it's much less evident when he's sick, but it is there. beverly basically tells him as much, although in much nicer words that i'm about to use. with jack telling will it's necessary he works on one side and hannibal trying to convince him he's too mentally ill to keep functioning on the other, you really can't justify why will chooses to keep working through his illness. he knew he was sick, he knew how often he'd begun to hallucinate violence, murder. he knew he was losing whole swathes of time, where he couldn't account for his whereabouts but was clearly competent enough to drive and navigate. despite that equal jack-hannibal dichotomy, will decides that upholding the ideal of crime-fighting, innocent, capable fbi agent will graham was far more important than the potential danger. sacrificing his health in the process was not selfless (particularly not in a universe where there are no long-term impacts of nearly becoming brain soup), it was an expression of how much harm he was willing to do to maintain his false sense of self. but he mostly hurt himself with this one. and abigail, obviously.

speaking of abigail, there's only a couple examples with her i'm going to bring up, but their entire pseudo father-daughter relationship was a projection of that false sense of self (caring, loving father figure) onto abigail. it was an expression of that particular brand of narcissism - he didn't see her, he only saw who she COULD BE in relation to who HE could be.

firstly there's the fact that he knew he was sick and yet risked going to an isolated area with her alone anyway. that obviously went super well. and then there's him telling her how ugly killing is. yes, he didn't know she'd killed yet, but where was all of that graham patented empathy when she was so clearly guilty about SOMETHING. again, his ideal is more important to him than her feelings. he doesn't actually stop to think about her at all, only how he expects her to feel, how he WANTS her to feel. how HE wants to feel. i mean even hannibal was judging him for that one,,,

moving on to s2, we've got matthew brown and related shenanigans occurring. now i'm not counting his interactions with beverly as particularly problematic because it was a fairly even relationship, and she mostly involved herself in his business (sorry bev i love you but sneaking into hannibal's house???). but matthew was a little different. quite frankly i don't care about will manipulating him, just as i don't particularly care about will manipulating hannibal - you can easily justify those decisions because lying is hardly the worst either of them have done. BUT. will knew about matthew (or at least suspected) far before the 'we're hawks, mr. graham' speech, which meant will (who by this point in the season has chilton hanging on his every word out of self-preservation, and jack slowly and surely moving in the right direction) knew matthew had killed and would kill again and did NOTHING.

matthew was more useful to him close than locked up. it would've been easy for chilton (yk matthew's boss who is totally willing to commit a little malpractice) to getting him fired at least, locked up at best. but nope, because matthew is useful to will and unlike hannibal he hasn't actually tried to manipulate him at all. it's not will's job to catch him, the ideal of will as stable and innocent seems further away than ever with bev dead, so why would he try? who cares about any innocents that get killed while he keeps matthew nice and free to be used at his convenience?

and THEN he lies to jack from the very beginning. he really says, out loud with full confidence, that nothing he did or said caused matthew to try and kill hannibal. and the insane thing is that he believes it. to an extent - in his mind, hannibal has earned this. pain, preferably death, at his hand by proxy. in his mind, he's washed his hands of it. he can still convince himself that this is not proof that he is just as murderous as hannibal sees him, and that he knows who he is (certainly not a killer, because it's not really murder if hannibal deserves it, is it? (idiot)).

comparatively to hannibal's egotism, will's narcissism is much less conscious. he often makes choices based purely on the impact it'll have on his plans, without ever stopping to consider who he harms in the process.

but my favourite example is chiyoh (<3).

he does not care about her prisoner. he does not care about chiyoh's duty. what he cares about is the fact that he wants her to go with him to find hannibal. he acts as if he's entitled to it - he sees her use to him, sees their similarities, and decides he must have it for himself. will cares so little about how she feels about killing him that he somehow STILL manages to perceive himself as some kind of victim in the aftermath. regardless of whether chiyoh kills the prisoner, will has either made her a murderer or ended a decades long commitment to hannibal lecter. fannibals who argue that will is in any way naturally caring or selfless should go rewatch that whole sequence and come back to me with a caring and selfless explanation for that move.

there are plenty more examples of this happening through the rest of the season too. will's immediate change of plans upon finding out hannibal loves him (confirmation he is wanted, finally ready to claim his prize through whatever means necessary). how easily he gives up on repairing his relationship with walt (because really he could've made ANY effort to explain). his framing of chilton as his 'pet' to get francis to respond (i mean REALLY?? man's been through enough goddamn).

the manifestation of their narcissistic traits is very different, but they're present in both of them. ultimately it's the fact that they are often exceptions to each other's rules that makes them so good together, and so compelling to think about too.

thank you very much for the ask!! as usual it has given me an opportunity to infodump about hannigram, which i always love and appreciate.

#LONG post #ask #nbc hannibal #hannibal nbc #will graham #hannibal textpost #hannibal meta #hannibal analysis

89 notes · View notes

illdowhatiwantthanks · 2 days

Text

The Carrot (The Surprise, Part 11)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, absolute smut, oral, idk just sex, pregnancy times, established relationship, explicit language (I'm bad at these but let me know if I'm missing anything) Word count: 1.2k

Summary: Emily surprises you with breakfast in bed for your first Mother's Day. But you've got a Mother's Day surprise of your own up your sleeve...

Week 21: The Carrot

“Rise and shine, honey.”

You stretched and opened your eyes, smiling as you took in Emily standing above you holding a breakfast tray. You pulled yourself into a sitting position.

“What’s all this for?” you asked as she placed the tray over your lap. Coffee (decaf), a warm croissant, and a tiny little sprig of baby’s breath–your favorite flowers–in a miniature jar. You grabbed Emily’s hand as she stood, pulling her back down so you could kiss her.

She smiled into you. “It’s Mother’s Day.”

Your heart soared. So cute. So kind and thoughtful, your wife.

“This is so sweet of you, Em. But, uh…” You nibbled on your croissant. “Mother’s Day was last weekend.”

“I know that,” she insisted, climbing into bed to sit next to you. “But I wasn’t here last weekend.” She took a sip of your coffee and you swatted at her arm.

“Hey!” you protested. “You can’t give me Mother’s Day breakfast and then eat the breakfast.”

“I can. I’m also a mother.” She took a bite of your croissant and grinned mischievously at you.

You felt a little guilty. You hadn’t even thought about Mother’s Day, except to call your own mom and wish her a happy one. Maybe you should have done something for Emily. You’d have to think about what to get her.

“What do you want her to call you?” you asked, taking your coffee back and sipping on it. You hadn’t discussed it yet–what the baby would call you both. “I want to be Mama, I think. If it’s okay with you.”

Emily looked at you lovingly, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. She nodded. “You can be Mama. You’ll be a perfect Mama.”

You blushed and smiled softly.

“What are you gonna be?”

“I haven’t really thought about it,” she admitted, leaning her head against your shoulder. “Maybe Maman. Like in France.”

“That’s pretty.” You laced your fingers with hers, smiling as her eyebrows furrowed and she bit her lip. You loved her thinking face. In fact, you couldn’t stop looking at her thinking face. She smelled like an almond croissant and her lips were so full and so kissable, and her skin was soft against your fingers and wow your sex drive was through the roof during this trimester. “You’re pretty,” you added, more to yourself than anything.

“What?” she said, looking at you, eyes twinkling.

Suddenly, you knew exactly what to get Emily for Mother’s Day. You lifted up the tray and set it on the nightstand, turning to face her, sinking your fingertips into the skin that peeked out from under her shirt and moving your face so close to hers that you could feel her breath on your lips.

“She could call you Mommy.”

Emily blinked, flustered. “W-what?”

“Or, even better,” you added, placing a sensual kiss on her neck. “I could call you Mommy.”

“Oh my god,” Emily groaned, placing her hands on your waist, already breathing heavily.

“You like that?”

She nodded, moaning as you ran your tongue up her neck and landed at her mouth, kissing her deeply.

You made out with her there on the bed, high on the knowledge that you were getting her so riled up, your mouth roaming her neck, her shoulders, her collarbone, and always, always her lips. You couldn’t get enough of her lips.

When you had her so desperate that her hips were pushing into you, you pulled away and leaned in to press your lips to her ear. “I need you, Mommy,” you whispered.

“Holy fucking shit,” Emily said breathily. “Anything, I’ll do anything.”

You sat back and she shot forward, desperate to touch you. “I want you…” you started, smirking, laying back on the bed beside her as her chest heaved. She hung on your every word. It was intoxicating. “To ride my face.”

Emily looked like she might pass out, eyes glazed, breath heavy and desperate. “Are you serious?” she asked, panting.

You leaned up to tug down on the waistband of her sweats. “Please, Mommy,” you said, licking your lips.

Emily had never undressed faster. She crashed her lips into yours, chest pressed against you, your hands searching out her nipples to drive her even crazier. You were drunk on the power you had right now.

“You’re sure?” she confirmed again, sitting up as she straddled your waist.

You ran your thumb lightly over her clit and she shuddered. “I want to taste you.”

Emily shakily moved herself up to straddle your face and your stomach did flips. She was nearly dripping and, yet still, she held herself back from lowering onto you, as if she was scared she’d hurt you. Impatient to bury your face in her, you wrapped your arms around her thighs and pulled her down, moaning as her taste hit your tongue.

You were in heaven. It was rare for Emily to let herself go like this, to let you be in charge, to do what you told her to. But if the sounds she was making were any indication of how you were doing, you’d say you were doing very well.

She started slow, fighting against the urge to grind herself into you as hard as she could. She didn’t want to hurt you. She was afraid of herself, of her own strength, but more than that, of the strength of her desire.

But you used your nose to encourage her, dragging it back and forth along her clit as your tongue explored her entrance, lapping up every bit of her that she could give you. You felt lightheaded. Would you faint? Maybe. Would it be worth it? God, yes.

Her soft little grunts and groans came faster and faster as she thrust against your face, using the headboard to pull for even more friction. You reached a hand up to squeeze one of her breasts and she moaned.

You knew Emily. You knew what she felt like, what she sounded like. You knew the way her walls fluttered when she was about to go over the edge, and you could feel her getting close.

You hummed into her and she gasped. “Come on, Mommy,” you teased her, your voice vibrating into her. “Let it go. Come for me. Come on my face.”

And Emily lost it. She was usually quiet when she came, but not today. She whimpered and whined as she rode out her high, soaking your face and you drank up every last bit of her, lapping and lapping until she squirmed away. She collapsed at your side, heaving and flushed beet red from her face to her chest.

She giggled, grinning, as she tried to catch her breath. You kissed her cheek, feeling unreasonably proud of yourself. She turned to look at you and brushed your sticky hair out of your face.

“Jesus,” Emily chuckled. “You’re a mess.”

“Good?” you asked, raising your eyebrows and smirking.

“Amazing,” she gushed. “Fuck.”

You kissed her again, letting her taste herself on your tongue. She curled around you, resting her head on your chest.

“Yeah, the baby definitely can’t call me Mommy.”

You laughed. “Only me?”

“Only you.”

“Happy Not Mother’s Day, honey,” you said, kissing the top of her head.

“Happy Not Mother’s Day,” she whispered into your chest, placing a gentle hand on your baby bump.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

130 notes · View notes

thefrogman · 12 hours

Note

Recently I took a panorama of the Pittsburgh skyline at night that got a positive response. That was done on the spur of the moment with an iPhone. I want to do that again and more, but this time with a dedicated camera setup. It's been years since I've had one, so I'm basically starting over again. I'm mostly interested in getting day and night cityscapes, and maybe the carryings-on at this year's Anthrocon. Would you have any particular knowledge to pass on as I set off on this journey?

Since you didn't specify a budget I'm going to assume it is in the $10K range.

And you're probably thinking I'm going to suggest a Leica. Every dentist and his brother (who is also a dentist) gets a Leica. But I just can't take a camera brand seriously when they charge you an extra $2200 for the privilege of not being able to shoot in color.

Sure, you can hit a single button in Lightroom to get B&W and save some money, but then you won't be able to brag about how limiting yourself to only shades of gray has opened up new artistic pathways in your brain while a clueless person responds in mumbles during their root canal.

What you really want for your landscapes is a Hassie.

They were the first camera on the moon! How could you *not* want a Hasselblad? That is some camera gorgeousness right there. And it's so reasonably priced*!

*compared to their previous $40,000 camera systems.

And if you are doing landscapes with the Hassie you'll need a nice wide angle lens to go with it. This one is actually quite affordable*!

*compared to their previous $8000 lenses.

Can we all agree that is a work of art? They even use their H logo as the knurling.

That is just so... extra. And I love it.

Out of the entire alphabet I've heard Hs give you the best grip.

Man, I almost wish I was a dentist just so I could buy a fancy camera.

Sorry... I was just having a little fun.

I never get to recommend the super cool expensive cameras. Because, ya know, the economy and the fact that only dentists have Hasselblad money.

You probably think I'm being silly but there actually is an entire community of dentist photographers keeping the high end camera market alive.

Okay, let's get started...

Landscape Buying Guide

Opening Thoughts

For landscapes I would highly suggest a full frame camera and a high quality wide angle lens.

Full frame has several advantages but it is not necessary. You can go with a smaller sensor like APS-C and get great images. Personally I would not go any smaller, but there have been some great landscapes taken on micro 4/3 and even smartphones. Technique, knowledge, experience, and composition will usually win the day over a camera, but having a nice camera makes things a lot easier.

At this point, with full frame options being very affordable now, the main reason to get a smaller sensor is if you want a smaller system that is easier to carry for extended periods and easier to pack when traveling. Or if you aren't sure you want to take on photography as a hobby, you can get an old APS-C DSLR for under $200 to learn with and test out.

So if you need a very cheap OR very compact system, APS-C and Micro 4/3 might be worth considering, but a bigger sensor will cause less frustration most of the time.

Froggie Note: The expensive Micro 4/3 and APS-C systems are the compact ones. The cheap systems are about as bulky as full frame.

The biggest advantages to full frame are low light shooting, lens selection, and field of view. Full frame cameras have many, many more lenses to choose from. And since the sensor is bigger, it is much easier to get a wider field of view that is often needed for landscapes. And the high ISO noise performance tends to be better on full frame.

However, you can use full frame lenses on APS-C camera bodies within the same ecosystem. They just get a little... zoomier. Roughly 1.5x zoomier. A 35mm acts like a 50mm, for example. So if you want to spend a little less now you can get an APS-C camera with a full frame lens and then upgrade to full frame later on without having to buy a new lens. Full frame lenses work on APS-C bodies but not the other way around.

Most landscapists have a really solid 16-35mm lens and that covers almost all of their needs. So I would suggest something comparable. Please don't get suckered into some crazy 18-300mm superzoom. Just get the focal range you need for the photos you want to achieve.

A purpose-built lens always outperforms one that was made to do everything.

As far as where to get used gear, I highly recommend using KEH or MPB when buying used camera bodies. They check every device and offer between 3 and 6 months warranty to make sure the device won't crap out on you. Lenses are typically a lot more robust and a safer thing to buy on eBay or Facebook Marketplace if you can find a better deal. But the security of having a warranty and a return apparatus if something goes wrong might be worth the extra price when using these two sites.

I am going to recommend Canon, Nikon, and Sony systems. I feel they have the most complete ecosystems with gear that spans all budget ranges. I'm not saying there aren't good cameras from other brands, but you have to remember every camera has an ecosystem surrounding it. There are accessories and upgrade paths and niche lenses that may not be available with other brands. I think Fuji has some tempting options and if you like the look of vintage film photography, their emulation options are quite stunning. Their cameras are also quite attractive and have very satisfying knobs. But I still can't recommend them unless you have a specific reason for wanting their gear.

Just remember that for every Canon DSLR I recommend there is a comparable Nikon option available as well. There are more lenses for a Canon full frame DSLR body than any other brand with Nikon coming in a close second.

So if you choose not to go mirrorless yet, the Canon and Nikon DSLR camera ecosystems are immense and have tons of gear and accessories available to go with them. And since used gear holds up really well, those ecosystems will survive for decades.

Should you buy a mirrorless camera or a DSLR?

Mirrorless cameras are the latest camera technology for interchangeable lens camera systems. At this point they are superior in every aspect and they continue to improve year by year. Because of that, used DSLRs have plummeted in price. This allows people greater access to a starter ILC (interchangeable lens camera) without a significant investment. You can get professional quality images on either format, but mirrorless has a shallower learning curve and much better automatic modes.

The in-body image stabilization (IBIS) stabilizes *every* lens and the eye tracking autofocus make "focus and re-compose" extinct. These are huge selling points for a lot of people. With IBIS you can take photos with up to 2-4 second shutter speeds without a tripod. And never missing focus on a human or animal or bird is pretty cool too.

DSLR camera bodies are no longer being designed by most of the major manufacturers. Thankfully Canon and Nikon developed plenty of bodies and lenses, so you will always have options and upgrade paths. But you will not be able to upgrade to systems with the latest advanced features.

The best DSLRs available are probably the Nikon D850 and the Canon 5D Mark IV. That is as good as it will ever get. The technology ends there. So if you want to enter an active camera ecosystem then you will have to get a mirrorless camera.

DSLR Camera Systems

Full Frame DSLR Camera Bodies

Canon

If you buy a used DSLR, there are some very affordable full frame options. In fact, the classic much-praised budget full frame Canon 6D can be had for under $300 right now.

This is an old camera. It has no fancy features. It only has 20 megapixels. It just does what it says on the tin. But it has a big sensor and a *ton* of really cool lenses available for it.

If you are specifically looking to create really high resolution panos, you could also look at the 50 megapixel 5DS R for around $1000.

There is a community of landscape pano-maniacs that love to create "gigapans" that have endless amounts of detail where you can zoom in and find new details in every photo. I was only able to create a 120 megapixel photo, but you can still find things like people starting a campfire and a dude fishing and a truck on a far off bridge. So even though this seems expensive for a DSLR, you are looking at another thousand bucks to find anything with more megapixels than this bad boy, so it is quite a good deal relatively speaking.

Nikon

Probably the best DSLRs ever made were the Nikon D800 series and you can get the Nikon D800 for $464.

This is a newer camera than the 6D with more megapixels (36) and a better sensor. It also has a more modern autofocus system and about 3 more stops of dynamic range which can come in handy for landscapes. This is an incredible camera for this price.

APS-C DSLR Camera Bodies

If you aren't sure you want to commit to this hobby, you can look into a Canon APS-C sensor body like the Canon Rebels and Canon 60D through 90D models and get good results.

And there are many Nikon DX APS-C bodies that would be great starter cameras as well. If you get a Nikon, you'd have an upgrade path to the D800 if you get hooked by the photography bug. I would miss a few very special Canon lenses like the 100mm f/2.8L macro and the 400mm f/5.6 telephoto but I'm sure I could figure out some reasonable Nikon alternatives that would do roughly the same thing.

Canon APS-C

There is a Canon 60D for $139 right now that would be perfectly adequate for landscape work on a tripod.

That was my first camera and I took some very nice photos with it. Only 18 megapixels but it has a very convenient flippy screen which was really helpful for a disabled photographer trying to get low angles.

This was in 2014 and I didn't know what I was doing but that is a pretty stellar-looking sunset for a (now) $140 camera.

Nikon APS-C

And the Nikon D3400 would be a great option as well at around $184.

You get some extra megapixels (24) and it is a bit newer than the Canon. I get the sense that used Nikon DSLRs give you more value for your money right now but I don't have a large enough sample size to confirm that.

Full Frame DSLR Lenses

Froggie Note: I am recommending full frame lenses even if you choose an APS-C DSLR body so you have an upgrade path. But also very few purpose-built APS-C lenses had superior glass. Just remember, crop sensor APS-C cameras add ~1.5x to your focal length. So a 16-35mm will have the equivalent field of view of a 24-50mm lens. Still quite acceptable for landscapes, but you may benefit from doing panoramas more often. And if you upgrade to full frame down the road, you'll already have the ideal lens.

Canon DSLR Lenses

If you get the 6D or another Canon you could pair it with the beloved-by-landscapists Canon 16-35mm f/4L.

Honestly, it is blowing my mind you can get that combo for under $600. Me from 12 years ago is super jealous right now.

If you are worried you might need something to work in lower light and still want a zoom, the f/2.8L starts at around $434.

This might be the most famous landscape lens of all time. Kinda boggles the mind how many gorgeous vistas this thing has captured the light of.

If you can live without the zoom, you could get a much sharper prime lens that can also be used in even lower light. A used Sigma 24mm f/1.4 Art lens is $439 would be a fantastic option.

24mm is still a very good focal length for landscapes and the sharpness of this lens lends well to panoramic stitches. Seriously, these art lens are so freaking sharp. Although 35mm is typically preferred for most street photography, I think this would do great for that purpose as well. It couldn't do close up portraits, but 3/4 and full body portraits would look great. I also love this focal length for doggos. It enlarges their heads a bit which enhances adorable-ness.

Though I probably wouldn't recommend the 24mm on APS-C for landscapes as it would put you near a 40mm full frame equivalent field of view.

Nikon DSLR Lenses

And on the Nikon side of things you could get the Nikkor 16-35mm f/4 for $399.

This is a great lens too. Very comparable to the Canon L glass. And paired with that D800 you would have a better shooting experience than with the 6D if it fits within your budget.

It's a little harder to find, but you can also get that same Sigma 24mm f/1.4 Art lens for Nikon at around $528 used on Amazon and in the $400 range on KEH and MPB when it is available.

The older and softer Nikkor 28mm f/1.8 is a little more affordable and easier to find.

What if you are not a dentist but are willing to save up for something a little nicer?

Enter the world of...

Mirrorless Camera Systems

Sony currently has my favorite ecosystem of mirrorless cameras and lenses and they are consistently ahead of the other brands as far as technology and features. In fact, many other manufacturers use Sony sensors. They literally supply their competition with their own tech. They are also pretty good about updating firmware—even with older models. So I feel like Sony has a lot of future-proofing advantages over other brands. Sony has a great selection of 3rd party lenses like Sigma, Tamron, Viltrox, Laowa, Samyang, etc. These lenses often have nearly the same optical quality as Sony's G Master lenses at a fraction of the price.

Full Frame Mirrorless

Currently, I think the best value full frame mirrorless camera for landscapes would be the Sony a7R III.

This is very nearly a top-of-the-line landscape camera for a little over $1200.

That might sound like a lot, but I want to be clear...

This isn't just decent. This isn't "good enough." This is a spectacular professional grade full frame camera.

10 years ago you could spend $6500 for a *worse* camera. 5 years ago you could spend $3000 for a *worse* camera.

It can do every genre of photography except for maybe fast paced sports/action. It has an amazing 42 megapixels—which are not necessary but they do make editing and printing a lot less of a headache. The file sizes can get a little big, but storage is a lot cheaper than it used to be.

Oh, and it can be used for professional quality 4K video work too.

The a7R III comes with all of the modern bells and whistles including in-body stabilization (IBIS) so you can handhold at very slow shutter speeds. It has one of the best autofocus systems—complete with eye tracking. But not just human eyes! Dog eyes. Cat eyes. Bird eyes. If it has an eye, the Sony can probably lock focus on it. And it has an admirable 10 fps burst shooting mode.

APS-C Mirrorless

If you want to enter the Sony ecosystem but can't afford full frame quite yet, you could do the a6400 for about $600.

You still get the eye-tracking and the in-body stabilization, but you will lose some image quality at higher ISOs due to the smaller sensor size. However, you can get the same full frame E-mount lenses for it and upgrade to a bigger sensor later on and not have to buy new lenses.

Mirrorless Landscape Lenses

I think a good value landscape lens would be the very impressive Tamron 20-40mm f/2.8.

This is a newer lens so there aren't many deals on used options yet. But this is still a great price for the quality and versatility you get. You will never regret spending a little more on glass.

The 20mm range can fit an entire cityscape in the frame without needing to do a panorama. But if you zoom to 40mm and mount the camera vertically, you could stitch together several photos to get well over the 100 megapixel range.

Also, the 40mm focal range is long enough to do street photography and even head & shoulder portraits. The wide f/2.8 aperture combined with the high-ISO friendly full frame sensor and in-body stabilization means you can shoot in very low light without a tripod. You can also get some great pictures of stars if you travel to someplace with minimal light pollution.

The cheapest landscape zoom lens I could find was the Sony 16-35mm f/4 at $384.

It's one of Sony's older lenses and may not take advantage of all of the a7R III's pixels, but it would be a good option to get you started in this system and upgrade the lens later on.

Mirrorless Prime Lenses

Zoom lenses are great but you have to spend more to get tolerable quality. Kit zooms can be softer than even the tiny plastic lenses on your phone. So a great way to stretch your budget is to get multiple fixed focal length "prime" lenses. Primes can be built inexpensively while still having good low light performance and decent sharpness.

For instance, you could start with something like the Tamron 20mm f/2.8 for $175. And if you want to do more than landscapes you could add the Sony 50mm f/1.8 for $170 later on. Cheap primes will outperform any of those mediocre kit zoom lenses in that same price range. You lose some versatility and have to deal with the pain of changing lenses or zooming with your feet, but sometimes a tight budget demands a little pain.

There is also a higher quality 3rd party wide angle prime lens that is very popular right now. The Viltrox 16mm f/1.8 is only $549 and the reviews say it has similar quality to lenses 3 times its price.

If you have to choose between a better camera body or a better lens, a good lens will help your photos more than a fancy camera body.

Froggie Note: These are examples. You should always do your own research before making a major technological purchase. This post could be a year old by the time you see it and there could be new stuff that is better. But all of the principles I tried to convey should hopefully guide you to a good decision. Also, feel free to message me if you want to ask about specific gear you are considering purchasing.

More Resources

This is my Encyclopedia of Lens Terms which is a helpful primer in understanding all of the wonderful and different lens options available on ILCs.

This is my buying guide for low budget used DSLRs. Similar to this post but less geared toward landscapes.

And this guide for getting decent landscape photos with any camera.

This is a free tutorial that teaches you everything you need to get started with an ILC system.

youtube

And this free tutorial by Karl Taylor is quite good as well.

#photography #long post

55 notes · View notes

ohcorny · 1 day

Note

ok i have been rolling this thought around in my head for a while. but.

i love the way magic reinforces the themes of class in NS. the layers to Ana's story about how she developed her magic, the knowledge that not only are gemstones expensive, but that Ana doesn't even realize how lucky she was that her magic was also red like her aunt's - that it isn't as simple as her sisters having 'given up,' because if their magic isn't red, it doesn't matter how long they focused on rubies - they'd never awaken anything. and the mounting expense of trying different gemstones of varying hues just isn't attainable for their family in any way, something in the rush of her own accomplishments Ana seems to have utterly forgotten. and then contrasting Ana's relationship to magic to not just Lucy's, but Philomena's? the way that Ana, Lucy, and Philomena are three points on a triangle representing drastically different relationships to magic and class? it really is fantastic. i still think about this sometimes.

i know that many things about the story and its world weren't very, if at all, intentional... but i strongly believe magic should strengthen the themes of the text, and i think this aspect of NS really did that well. regardless of if you realized it in the moment or not, regardless of if that was an intentional part of the world building, i think it's an undeniable part of the text as it exists now.

anyway, that's all! keep it up, boss!

all the magic and class stuff was very very much on purpose and i'm really glad to read this analysis of it. i do really like my magic system (though god there are parts i should have nailed down way more) and it would be nice to return to it someday... class is my pet issue in writing lol

if you like books about class you will like hunger's bite! coming february 2025

#it's a shame all my talk about how little i planned undermines whether the stuff i Did plan was on purpose #but such is the way

56 notes · View notes

wariocompany · 1 day

Text

I normally don't talk about stuff of this nature and least of all on Tumblr where there are like three active users but here.

UniMelb, my university, is having an occupation right now of one of our buildings, by students protesting UniMelb's alleged ties with weapons manufacturers currently being used by Israel. It's called Arts West and as the name implies a lot of Arts subjects are held there. My German, Korean, Chinese and Japanese classes all have at least one held there a week. This is an escalation of the encampment after the protesters provided an ultimatum (cut ties or we won't talk to you anymore).

Classes in the building were cancelled because of this occupation, citing safety concerns. The University has not helped teachers find new rooms, to my knowledge. My German teacher held the class outside, and all the others are online. The Aussie media is having a lot of fun with this, as I believe this is the biggest protest in the country of this nature since October 7.

The media is not being honest.

What's being said: the students seized the building violently.

The truth: they just kind of went in there and sat down. There are a few tents.

What's being said: the students are threatening people.

The truth: to my knowledge, no one has been threatened. Avi Yemeni and some cronies came to harass them around two weeks ago, and another group threw bottles, fire extinguishers and other projectiles at the protesters, but no retaliation has occured so far, as far as I have heard.

What's being said: classes were cancelled because of the occupation.

The truth: this is true, but the protesters have repeatedly said that anyone may enter and have class. I have been in the building several times to test this out, and no one even spoke to me, let alone told me to leave. I made a little coffee in the kitchen here:

The University has turned off the lifts and taped them, as well as locked the doors. I am not sure why one of them remains open, but I am led to believe the protesters opened it so people could come and go as they pleased.

Since the beginning the little "front desk tent" has had a massive "Palestinians and Jews in solidarity" sheet across it. All the propaganda stickers by them are of a similar nature: one says "Not in our name, Jews for a free Palestine", and another says "Palestinian and Jewish solidarity" with a dove on it. They hold Shabbat there as well. They also do the call to prayer for Dhuhr, and possibly all of the prayers, but I'm not on campus for Fajr, Isha etc (for obvious reasons).

I don't want people reading the news and thinking being at UniMelb is hectic right now. It's really fine. Nobody even really talks about it much. Classes in other buildings are quite normal.

49 notes · View notes

applesaucesims · 2 days

Text

In between takes at the studio, Niall went over his lines again, as they kept escaping his memory. Although he was not the lead in this film, he still wanted to do good, but he could not stop thinking about what his son had told him in the morning and what that could mean.

Meanwhile, Franklin, whose wedding to the famous Laura Nielsen had immensely boosted his career, had been cast in the leading role for the first time. Seeing his co-star clearly in distress worried him, both personally and for the good of the picture. They may have been lovers in the past, but most importantly, they had been friends throughout their careers, and that had not changed. So, he made sure to be there for Niall in whatever situation he was in now.

Hearing that the issue on Niall's mind was about his son, first made Franklin slightly regret that he had offered his help. He did not really care or know anything about children, but as it turned out, the issue was much closer to his knowledge after all. It did not surprise him that his friend worried so much about just the possibility of Louis liking boys. It was hard enough to hide their preferences from the public, but Niall had always especially struggled with it. Clearly he needed someone with the same experience to help him in this situation, and Franklin was his best bet.

[TRANSCRIPT]

Plumbob Pictures Studios

Niall: *mumbling*

Franklin: "Something the matter?"

Niall: "Wh-what do you mean?"

Franklin: "You're not looking too lovely."

Niall: "Is it that obvious?"

Franklin: "I would love to say I can read you like a book, but really, you're not the best at hiding your emotions."

Niall: "Ugh, you're right. I don't know what I'm doing anymore."

Franklin: "Well, try me. I'll see if I can be of any help."

Niall: "It's my son, Louis."

Franklin: "Huh."

Niall: "I'm worried he's... you know."

Franklin: "Do I?"

Niall: *whispers* "Well, like... us."

Franklin: "I see. Are you blaming yourself?"

Niall: "I don't know."

Franklin: "You know it's not exactly inheritable, right?"

Niall: "I- I know, but-"

Franklin: "Tell you what. Let's talk about this somewhere less... public. Come around mine and Laura's after the shoot?"

#ts4 decades challenge #ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 legacy #1930s #niall mcgregor #franklin cleary #franklin in this aesthetic is so *chef's kiss*#tfw you get ur first lead role but ur ex won't stop whining about his internalised homophobia smh

43 notes · View notes

viridwns · 2 days

Text

Mannequin

TW: Forced relationship, non-consensual kissing/touching, Douma being aight?, mention of gore if you squint, also didn't check grammar or spelling :/

A/N: I am working on so many requests rn, I had to work on one of my own ideas (I saw a dress on pinterest and had to make a story out of it).

"You look like a goddess."

"So beautiful."

"She's ethereal."

"Only the best for Lord Douma."

"This shows too much skin!"

You look at yourself in the mirror, turning your body every whichway to assess the dress (or rather a piece of cloth) that has been put on you.

You felt naked.

Douma kidnapping you to his cult wasn't something new. Especially after he was sent out on a mission did he just long for alone time with you. His followers taking you, dressing you, doing your hair wasn't new to you either.

But being put in this?!

Yeah, this was something new.

They never put you in a dress so revealing.

It was a strapless dress, with sleeves flowing over your lower arm, attached with a silver chain to the main part. Your top was made out of the same silver. It barely covered your breasts. You hoped the thin closing around your neck wouldn't break. The silver was further attached to the bottom of your dress. A waistband sitting snug on your hips, a sheer cloth billowing from it, and stopping just above your ankles. Aside from your lower arms and from the waist down, you were without coverage. Your only shield that protected the outing of your breasts to the rest of the world was the flimsy silver chain wrapping around your upper half.

No way you were going to wear this in front of the demon who ripped apart countless of kimono's off you. He couldn't even see your figure in those. You don't want to find out what he'd do when you were practically bare.

You let your fingers trace the silver; these chains wouldn't even survive a slight tug from him.

"Our seamstress worked tirelessly on this. Researching the western culture without Lord Douma's knowledge was a difficult task. Plus the seamstress had to start over many times; the fabric is so flimsy it ripped multiple times!" A woman looked at you via the mirror with begging eyes. You felt a pang of guilt shoot through your gut at her words.

"It's not that I don't like it! it's the most beautiful piece of clothing I ever laid my eyes on. It's just that...It's so immodest!"

You turn your head away from the mirror, getting embarrassed from seeing your form in such a state in front of all these women.

Counter arguments started to bounce off the walls. You shook your head.

"I'm not going to prance around in nothing but see through fabric and chains!"

"You must! you're Lord Douma's spouse, send by God himself to keep him company-"

You waved your hands in an attempt to cut her off. You didn't need them to obsess over the made up story Douma fed them. You were not God send, and you were definitely not here to keep the demon company.

You wished you could tell them the truth, but that would only result in carnage; The pile of corpses Douma left for you to find serving as a efficient warning the first time he brought you here.

You were never going to tattle on his secret again.

The arguing continued, a hand already pressed on you shoulder so you would sit down.

"Just let me do your hair first okay? If you really don't like it we'll dress you in different clothing.

You reluctantly gave in. Knowing that their say was final anyway. You can't even remember the last time your opinion was taken into serious account.

It's always about pleasing the demons', never about what you would like.

You watched the skillfull hand of the woman behind you doing your hair in the dressing table mirror. She was braiding it into a crown around your head, letting the back stay the way it is. She intertwined some white roses into the braid; it looked like you were wearing a flower crown.

Even though you did find yourself pretty in these fancy clothes and hairstyles; you couldn't enjoy yourself. You were treated like a dress up doll for the demons', only being allowed to look pretty for them, never for yourself.

You had forgotten the giddy emotion you got when being gifted a new dress and twirling in it in front of the mirror for the first time.

Another sigh, another careless smile from one of the followers.

"You couldn't look more beautiful. Lord Douma will ravish in the sight of you." The women all agreed in unison, complimenting you on your beauty.

You turned around to face them, a small smile on your lips.

"I will make sure to praise your work in front of Douma." A wave of excited and thankful shrieks came over you.

Douma tended to let the women you like live longer so you can enjoy their company more when you're here. You had to mention them in front of him.

A male follower came rushing into the room. The women all forming a protective circle around you-you were only to be seen by Douma's eyes.

"It's almost sunset, come quick." He rambled, waving to everyone to come with him. Urgency laced his words.

It was time for Douma to give the message of the Lord to his people.

Prick.

You stood up, relief slowly eating away the nerves that had build up in your stomach.

Sunset also meant that Akaza could go outside and get you out of here.

One thing about Douma is that he never asked if he can take you with him, he just does.

And hell be upon him when the rest finds out you're missing, coincidentally at the same time Douma isn't present either.

Akaza is always the one to get you, even if he can't stand up against Douma, he somehow always gets Douma to give you over.

Maybe it's because of the threatening shadow of Kokushibo always leaning over Akaza from behind; piercing his three pair of eyes into Douma's soul (if he even had one, you were fairly certain he didn't).

You feel the corners of your lips tug upwards at the sight of Douma being beheaded.

Maybe if you puppy-dog-eye Muzan enough when you get back he'll take away Douma's mouth for a bit. You could use a bit of peace and quiet.

You didn't notice you were being lead to the main hall, so lost in your daydreams that you only noticed where you were when a heavy silence deafened your ears.

The hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at you, gaping at you, had you realize what you were wearing, or what you weren't wearing. Your arms slipped over your figure in an attempt to keep as much hidden as you could. Your futile attempt in creating a shield for yourself was met with two female followers grabbing both your hands and forcing them to your side, keeping you in place with their determination to show you to their Lord.

Your eyes were pinned forward, gaze focused on the tall figure slowly rising upright from his cushion.

Douma looked the same as he ever did. Same hair, same clothes, same cursed eyes and his trusty hat.

The only thing different was that his expression was...well not his usual 'grin'.

His eyes were wide, mouth closed. He was unreadable. You couldn't figure out what emotion he was wearing on his features.

You noticed his hands were in taut fists by his sides.

What was up with him?

"Douma?—"

That's when he stood up, rising to his full height. You swear you could feel the floor shake as he strode towards you.

You didn't—couldn't—move. Why was he so much more terrifying when not smiling?

The women let you go; getting on their knees as their Lord approached—heads touching the floor.

He didn't acknowledge any of them as he took your wrist in his hand. You saw his sharpened nails. bile climbed up your throat, you forced it down again as you swallowed.

Douma dragged you behind him, pace quick, eyes determined. You spluttered his name, trying to ask what was wrong. He was not himself, he never acted this way.

"Douma, what are you do-"

"Just shut up."

You were taken aback by his tone, shutting up immediately. He never had any emotion except for faux happiness in his voice. Now his tone was just empty, devoid of anything.

You could hear his heavy breathing as he took you outside. You spotted the white circle gifting the world with a guiding light in the darkness high up in the sky. It was a full-moon tonight.

Your eyes snapped to Douma as he stilled his movements. He shoved you in front of him, placing you in the holy glow of the moon. You faced him with confusion lining your features. You could not figure out what he was trying to do.

He took a few steps back; basking in the sight of you. He swallowed thickly. His eyes trailing slowly over you body, analyzing every dip, mole, crook, wrinkle, imperfection and perfection you had.

You looked like an angel in the heavenly glow of the nightlight. Douma couldn't stop inspecting you. When you walked into the hall, not wearing a kimono like always, he was put into a trance. He had never seen you wearing western clothing, and even though this was extreme and probably not accurate to the western style at all-he was captivated.

You had never looked more beautiful than you did at this moment. He wasn't used to emotions sizzling in his blood. He didn't know how to put the burning sensation in him out. For once he didn't want to throw you on a bed to eat you up to your very core, but he just wanted to take in you.

You played with the ends of your sleeves as you felt yourself getting smaller under Douma's multicolored gaze. You hated not knowing what to do, not being able to gauge the demon's feelings.

A snap of twigs made your head turn away from the stone-turning stare of Douma.

You sighed in relief.

"You bastard. You can't just take her with you! Not without Lord Muzan's permission! Love, you must've been te-."

Akaza stilled, his eyes met yours and slowly drifted over your body. You cocked your head.

Not him too.

"What are you wearing? What is she wearing?" He pointed an accusing finger to Douma,

"Doesn't matter, she is gorgeous."

You had to keep yourself upright form the whiplash Douma gave you with his words. He had never sounded to sincere, so soft.

Akaza walked over to you, his footfalls not heard. He was about to hold your hand when Douma spawned next to the two of you and gripped Akaza's hand in a bone-breaking grip. His muscles were bulging under his skin as he kept Akaza from touching you.

"Let her stay like this for a little." Douma never was serious with Akaza. Always letting the upper three do what he wanted. Akaza stopped all his actions. He knew Douma could kill him in seconds if he resisted him now.

"Douma I want to go. I don't feel comfortable." It was nerve-wrecking to break the tension. It was something you never dared to do, scared of loosing a limb if you did. The air was thick and if you had a knife you swore you could cut it.

Douma turned his focus towards you. Just like that you could breathe again, all tension leaving. It was like Douma realized that he had dropped his act.

You grimaced when his grin returned on his lips. You saw Akaza visibly relax when he did.

"Whatever you wish princess."

You looked at him with suspicion. He was never this easy to persuade. Usually he would whine for an hour before inevitably giving in.

Akaza shared a glance of doubt with you. He cautiously took your hand and within the blink of your eyes you were standing in the chaos of walls, lights, floors and stairs.

You felt light-headed, your stomach sloshing inside of you. This was never going to get easier.

You held Akaza's hand as you got your bearings, slowly pushing away the nausea and pressure that was building in your head. If it wasn't for him you would buckle and fall.

"You okay? I don't understand how you aren't used to this yet." Akaza rubbed your back. You shot him a glare and released your hand out of his.

"What is she wearing?" You pursed your lips in annoyance as Kokushibo appeared in your line of sight.

"I'm getting out of this dress right now, don't worry about it." You snapped, done with this whole night already. Why were they all acting like you never dressed up before?

You were wearing a dress for the first time though...maybe that's what had them reeling like this.

"No, I like it. You look beautiful." The upper one stared down at you, his hand resting at your shoulder, slowly gliding down to your lower back as he assessed you.

"We should get you more dresses, and have Daki braid your hair more often." He mused. A shiver ran up your spine as his cold fingers kissed your skin.

"I don't feel comfortable in this. I am practically naked." You objected, looking up at Kokushibo through your lashes.

"Only bonus points if you ask me." Douma winked, his eyes dark with lust as he cocked his head with a cheeky smile.

It was like whatever happened a few minutes ago never did. He was back to his old self. Much to your relief and dismay.

"Stop acting like an animal in heat you idiot." Akaza sneered, but the dust of pink on his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by you.

"Which one of you took her out of the kimono I picked for her?" There it was. A voice, cold as ice, heavy as stone and threatening like a knife against skin.

Muzan was standing across from you. His head high, hands behind his back and maroon eyes radiating annoyance.

Muzan was very controlling of what you wore, ate and just did overall.

Douma was in for a lot of shit.

"Ah Lord Muzan! isn't she pretty? My followers know exactly what to do with her!" Douma pushed you forward, showcasing you to the demon king.

You slightly pouted your lips. You hated being pranced around like an animal in a zoo. You just wanted to change into comfortable-covering-clothes.

Muzan took you in, walking around you as if he was deciding to buy a new piece of furnace. He was judging you.

"I've seen this style before. Did your followers research her western background?" Muzan asked as he let his hands wander over the material; tracing the silver that were hiding your breasts.

"They did, and they did such a magnificent job."

No they didn't. You never wore anything like this back home.

Home. You missed it.

"I wore dresses at home-" Muzan grabbed your jaw, you coughed.

"-back in my former country, they were nothing like this." You managed to get out with the aching grip of the demon king on your jugular.

You had to stop messing that up.

Muzan loosened his grip just a tat.

"You look nice in this. Maybe I should let you indulge in your own culture more."

Your eyes grew big.

"Are you serious?"

"Dare you question me?"

You shook your head no as best you could with his hands still lingering between oxygen and choking.

When was the last time you had enjoyed something from your culture?

When was the last time you spoke in your tongue?

Sadness tugged at your heartstrings when you made that realization, but you quickly cut the emotion off as you went down on your knees. Muzan letting your go to have you grovel at his feet.

You bowed down; head touching the floor the way he loved.

"Thank you, my lord." You felt the insides of your stomach climbing up your throat as you said it, but you forced it down. You had learned quickly enough to do what Muzan likes, and thank him for the smallest bit of gratitude.

Having you call him 'lord' was another one of his manipulation tactics. he wanted you to know the power dynamic between the two of you. He wanted you to know where you stood exactly.

Muzan hummed in satisfaction. You rose to your feet again with the help of Kokushibo, who so kindly stuck out his arm for you to take.

"No, stay on your knees." Muzan commanded. Your mouth fell open, but without any hesitation you bend down on your knees again. Your dress spread around you in a perfect circle.

Muzan tilted your chin up. He raveled in the way you looked up at him with those innocent eyes. You looked so fragile with those flowers in your hair and the white clothing your skin.

He felt his trousers tighten just at the thought of corrupting the innocent thing before him.

You felt the eyes of the three demons behind you burning holes in your body as Muzan traced his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Kiss me." He whispered.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment. you weren't feeling up to this right now, but the consequences of rejecting Muzan-rejecting the demon king-would be a grave mistake.

Muzan couldn't handle that a mere human could reject a near God like himself. It hurt is ego immensely.

You gently stood up, not breaking eye contact with him once, you let your breath fan over his lips, mentally preparing for what was about to come. Muzan grabbed your hips as he watched you.

Pushing back every urge to stop, you lunged forward, crashing your lips on the frozen ones of Muzan. Your warmth enveloped Muzan's nerves as he reciprocated the kiss. He was more fierce, more eager, and after a second he took back control. Forcing you to stay in place as he explored the cavity of your mouth. You felt your oxygen running out as Muzan bit and tugged on your bottom lip. He dominated you easily. Your hands were taut around Muzan's shoulders. Squeezing as the need for oxygen became to extreme.

The moment spots started forming in your vision, Muzan broke the connection. You heaved, chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm. You didn't stop looking at him, you knew he saw looking away as a form of 'not wanting' (even though that's what you did feel). You felt your lips swell and your face heat up. Your eyes were glossy and Muzan wore a small grin on his face.

He loved seeing you like this. Lips plump read, face hot and bothered and eyes doe-like.

"You are talented in putting on a show, darling." You furrowed your brows, Muzan guided your face in the direction of the other demons'.

You felt your muscles tense at the sight of all three looking at you like you were the first source of water they found after days of traveling in a dessert.

You felt fear fluttering in your stomach like moths pouncing on a flame.

You barely made it out alive when with one of them. You wouldn't be able to take all four.

"N-no, please, I-" Muzan raked his sharpened nails over the silver, it broke without any resistance, just like you predicted.

"Don't worry. They'll do as I say, and for now I want them to watch."

He kissed your shoulder as the shield slowly broke off your body.

You got what you wanted though, you got out of the dress.

#yandere kny #yandere kimetsu no yaiba x reader #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere demon slayer x reader #yandere demon slayer #yandere muzan kibutsuji x reader #yandere muzan kibutsuji #yandere akaza x reader #yandere akaza #yandere kokushibo x reader #yandere kokushibo #yandere douma x reader #yandere douma #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba

44 notes · View notes

ughgoaway · 2 days

Note

I’m the anon who asked about requests earlier!!! Ik feeling uninspired/writers block is tough and never a great feeling but just know that myself and soooo many others will DEVOUR anything you write — even if you don’t love it lol.

I had a thought if teacher girly maybe when she’s pregnant or just after he’s born and her and Matty playing him Mattys music for the first time and him having a positive reaction. Maybe him smiling or laughing for the first time and Matty getting so excited (and maybe tearing up a bit lol). Little Annie is singing along of course. And it’s just all mush and fluff lol

ahh, you are very sweet, my love. writers block does suck, and I really hope I'll start feeling better about everything soon!! luckily, your idea was so cute that I was able to write a little bit!! It's not great, but I'm just glad it's something lol <3

also, this is one of my favourite things ever with babies, I love when they react to their parent's voices and start giggling and dancing!!

(p.s. All my baby development knowledge does come from Google, so take this with a grain of salt. Also, this is extremely sappy sorry lol)

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

So, baby boy is generally a very smiley baby. He does kinda early at about 6 weeks. But when it comes to laughing, he's stubborn. You, matty, and the boys do everything to try and make him laugh, pulling faces, tickling him, laughing around him to try and get him to copy you. But still, he just smiles.

“Annie was such a giggly baby. Why are you so grumpy, hmm?” You hear Matty whisper to Arthur in his crib one night as he's putting him to bed, tickling his belly lightly in an attempt to even hear a tiny giggle. Still, he doesn't laugh, but he does give Matty that familiar gummy smile and starts pulling at his hair. which, in turn, makes matty laugh, freeing his hair from Arthur's grip and kissing him on the head before he leaves.

Eventually, you settle in bed, and Matty can’t help but bring it up, “it's been over 2 months since he smiled, and he still won't laugh. Annie used to giggle whenever she saw my face,” Matty said grumpily.

“Maybe you just had a funnier face back then,” you joke, but Matty doesn’t even really process it. He’s too deep in thought as he's flipping through the various baby books you bought. He wants to check if Arthur is just doing it out of spite or if you need to see someone.

“Matty, he’ll laugh soon, I promise. Just be patient, my love.” you pull the books out of his hands and settle yourself on top of him, not in that way (although Matty would love that) in the way you do when he's overthinking and just needs to feel something other than his own heartbeat pounding in his chest.

He sighs heavily and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you both down until you're practically fully lying on top of him. In the early days of your relationship, you used to be worried you'd crush him when he asked you to do this. But after a lot of reassurance, you’ve just started letting yourself relax, knowing the pressure of your body on his is the easiest way to ground him.

/////

Matty tries to forget about it all for a few days, but you can tell he's still thinking about it. The only thing that gets his mind off it is going to the studio, something he’s not properly done since Arthur was born. You tell him over and over again to go and make music, but he is insistent on staying with his little family for as much time as he can before he’s whisked off on tour again. But after months of badgering, he crumbles and calls George for a little studio session.

“But promise me you’ll call me if you need me, yeah? I don't want you getting all stressed out, s’not good for you” Matty says for the thousandth time that morning. You give him a peck and assure him you'll call the second you need help before shoving his keys in his hand and waving him out of the door.

You, Annie, and Arthur decide to go on a walk whilst he is out. She stands on the back of the pram as you push, and Mayhem quite happily trots beside the three of you. It's a lovely day, so when you pass an ice cream van and Annie flashes you those eyes, you immediately crumble and buy yourself and her ice cream. You end up with three ice creams, though, as the man in the van insisted on making one for mayhem too. Free of charge, of course.

Annie can't stop giggling as she watches Mayhem inhale the ice cream in about 2 bites, wagging his tail wildly the whole time. You send a video to Matty, making sure to show baby Arthur watching with a big smile, but still not laughing. You caption it, “Even mayhem can't make him laugh. He's definitely just being stubborn. sounds like his dad tbh”

Matty loves the video, showing it to George with a big smile on his face and sending a jokey message back about being hurt that you got ice cream without him. But it does reassure him a bit that he's not the reason Arthur's not laughing. The world just clearly isn't as funny to a 3-month-old.

Matty comes back a few hours later, walking into the house to see you and Annie colouring on the floor and Arthur having tummy time next to you, staring at the coloured pens with wide eyes. You can always tell the studio session went well when Matty comes in with an iPod.

He insists on downloading all the half-finished songs on there so he can come home and show you as soon as possible. He says the iPod adds nostalgia and that's why he can't just play it off of his phone, but you think he just likes the extra drama of setting the iPod up and connecting it to the speaker.

So when he comes home with that familiar pink iPod in his hands, both you and Annie perk up. “Daddy, can I plug it in pleaseeee?” Annie asks, fluttering her eyelashes in the way she knows will always make Matty do what she wants, he nods and passes it to her, settling next to you on the floor and pressing a kiss to your lips.

It's a bit more intense than you usually get at 3 pm on a Tuesday, but who are you to complain when your musician boyfriend comes home from the studio and kisses you in a way that makes your head spin?

Your hand moves to his cheek as his settles behind your neck, pulling you in impossibly closer and using his tongue to trace the seam of your lips. Just as you open your mouth to welcome his tongue, Annie comes over and squishes herself between the two of you, holding the remote for the speaker in her hand with a cheeky grin on her face. Matty scoops up Arthur in his arms before he lets Annie press play, smiling down at him and letting Arthur’s hand surround his thumb.

Before long, Matty's voice starts coming out of the speakers, and you feel your muscles relax by themselves. It's a beautiful song, his soft vocals surrounded by a mix of acoustic guitar and piano.

The lyrics are repetitive, but not in the way pop songs on the radio have. It makes you feel familiar with the song like you've heard it a thousand times over, even if it was your first time listening to it. It felt like that same warm blanket you've loved all your life being laid over you one more time.

In typical 1975 fashion, the beat is addictive despite it being a slower track, and you can already see Annie swaying beside you and getting into the music.

Matty starts singing along without thinking, and soon enough, Annie joins in, too, their voices together making you grin immediately. But a new voice soon joins the medley, little Arthur giggling at his dad's voice and swaying.

You and Matty freeze as soon as you hear it, eyes meeting each other as Annie keeps singing and moving obliviously. Arthur stops when Matty does, but after you nod softly at Matty with a smile pulling at your lips, he starts singing again and right on cue, Arthur’s soft giggles start back up.

“Ohmygod” Matty whispers, his wet eyes swapping between you, Annie, and Arthur cradled in his arms. Annie quickly takes notice of the mood shift, looking concerned before you assured her that they were good tears.

“your brother is laughing sweetheart, go look!” you say, rushing her over to stand next to Matty. She scrambles up, moving as fast as her little legs can take her so she can stand by Arthur’s head.

You slide into the spot she left, leaning your head on Matty’s shoulder and watching as Arthur starts giggling and smiling as soon as Matty starts singing again.

Annie claps and starts laughing back, which only makes baby Arthur laugh more. Eventually, he’s laughing so hard his little eyes are screwed shut, and Matty is so excited he can't stop smiling and singing along to keep his laughter up.

You Facetime Denise immediately, and she's smiling and cooing down the phone at the three of you. At first, you only text the boys, but after many demands for a video, you end up just facetiming each of them and letting them watch Arthur's face light up.

George comments about how he must really be Matty’s son because they both love the sound of his voice, which earned him an eye roll from Matty and a laugh from you and Annie. After that, Arthur won't stop laughing. Everything is suddenly hilarious, and you and Matty couldn't be happier.

Anyway, this is extremely soft and sappy, oops! <3

#ace... writes something???#unheard of at this point!!!#sorry if this is ass #I'm rusty lol #but I love my teacher au babies!!!#anon!#teacher au!

35 notes · View notes

brf-rumortrackinganon · 3 days

Note

Does the public really care about Harry's visa though? On a practical level, it's not like he took from someone else or took someone else's opportunity and entered US. Most people just assume that since Harry is -

a royal

a very very rich man

a celebrity

friends with some very influential people

entitled

married to a US national

has visited US several times before 2020

has children that are US nationals

has business interests in the US

(the list could go on ..)

- he would and could very easily come and stay in the US.

But the government does have a problem on their hands with his visa. Mainly because no govt wants to be seen as granting one individual bspecial favours because of connections. His drug use is an issue, but then again, he hasn't commited a drug related crime or a crime while under the influence. Technically, it should be a problem, but lots of recreational users do get it.

What would be a problem though is of it is some sort of royal status related or LOS related A1 visa, then it reflects very badly on the UK government. And it exposes a diplomatic loophole that governments of either countries, or any country that has a recognised royal family and LoS, would not want to be made public knowledge.

One could argue however, that it is the fear of public outcry, that would deter the govts from exposing his stutus. It is also public outrage that would make the govt show accountability. Would it actually have any consequences on Harry himself? Sadly, no I don't think so. We know by now he is far beyond shame of any kind.

I'm going to break your post down point by point.

Does the public really care about Harry's visa though? The general at-large public does not care. There are other, more important things for most people to worry about.

But there are some people who do care, and care deeply enough, and have been loud enough that it's become an issue. It's a bit of a niche issue, but it's an issue for them and one that has gone all the way to the courthouse.

On a practical level, it's not like he took from someone else or took someone else's opportunity and entered US. Most people just assume that since Harry is a royal, a very very rich man, a celebrity, friends with some very influential people, entitled, married to a US national, has visited US several times before 2020, has children that are US nationals, has business interests in the US, etc., he would and could very easily come and stay in the US.

A couple of corrections first:

Harry is not a very very rich man. His father and grandmother are. We have plenty of nepo babies here. No one cares about that.

US national vs US citizen. It's a nitpicky semantics thing (and makes me think you're not American - that's okay! Welcome, hi, glad you're here.) It's better to call Meghan, Archie, and Lili US citizens because they do actually have American citizenship, because you can be a US national but not a US citizen. The semantics boil down to someone who has citizenship (citizen) vs someone who has allegiance to the country (national).

Yes, you're correct. Harry didn't take someone else's place in the immigration queue. No one cares about that.

Yes, Harry has a lot of qualifying factors - and don't forget the ultimate one: he's a white man - that helps his case with immigration and allowed him to jump parts of the queue. No one cares about that either; we're all for jumping the queue when we can. Legally and appropriately.

But the government does have a problem on their hands with his visa. Mainly because no govt wants to be seen as granting one individual special favours because of connections.

There's two governments here that we're complaining about. The US and the UK. For the US to accept Harry on a A-1 visa means Harry needed the cooperation of the UK government and the monarchy too. He needed to present to the US credentials from the UK - which are issued in the sovereign's name - to be allowed in.

No one cares that Harry has connections or that the governments give each other special favors. Everyone knows governments do this all the time.

The issue is that someone lied. Because in January 2020, we were told that Harry was stepping down as working royal and would be "just" a family member. Family members don't get diplomatic protection. Family members aren't sent on diplomatic missions. Family members don't represent the head of state in any capacity.

So for Harry to be allowed in means someone in a government somewhere lied. That's not a special favor because of connections.

His drug use is an issue, but then again, he hasn't commited a drug related crime or a crime while under the influence. Technically, it should be a problem, but lots of recreational users do get it.

Whether he has committed a drug-related crime or a crime while under the influence isn't the issue either.

The issue is that he is a known, habitual, and current drug user, which he admitted to being in Spare, and that the law, 8 USC 1182, clearly and specifically states anyone who is a drug abuser or addict is ineligible to receive a visa and ineligible to be admitted into the US.

So we have someone who was admitted to the US and received a visa and who later confessed to drug abuse in his memoir before, during, and after coming to the US. That admission led to the following questions:

Did he lie on his visa and immigration papers that he did not abuse drugs?

Did he declare his drug abuse and history on his paperwork and some official let him in anyway?

And why, for the love of god, did the lawyers let Harry keep those sections about his current drug use in the book? A good lawyer worth his paycheck would've told Harry to take all of that out knowing the problems it would cause with his visa.

The other thing to know about the US is our history with drugs. Specifically, our legal history with drugs. Thanks to a very effective 'war on drugs' campaign beginning in the 1970s, which was more or less government-sanctioned racial and socioeconomic discrimination (that's another rant for another day), tons of people have been impacted by it. People have lost jobs, careers, families, education prospects, lives, homes, rights, freedom, and yes - even citizenship because of it.

So when certain populations saw someone like Harry - someone embodying everything they hate about society - admitting he broke the law and got away with it, of course they're going to complain about it. Of course they're going to ask questions about how it happened.

So that's the issue. It's not that Harry is a drug user and doesn't have a criminal history related to it. It's that his history was ignored because he meets other criteria, other criteria that's designed to keep other kinds of people out.

Yes, the royal-related or LOS-related A1 visa reflects poorly on the UK if Harry still qualified for it despite giving that up. But that's not the issue that Americans such as myself and Empress and plenty of others are angry about.

We are aware that by being born into a royal family with a hereditary line of succession gives those family members certain privileges and abilities that the rest of the world can only dream of. We get that. We know that. (That's why we kicked them out 250 years ago.) We also know that even though our government doesn't do royalty, our culture and our society does. That's why members of all royal families are treated like wealthy celebrities, vs politicians or heads of state. So inherent to that, we know that members of royal families will be using their status to gain certain favors and access. Because that's what our wealthy famous people do, so why should someone else's wealthy famous people do something different?

What we are angry about is 1) our government conspiring (allegedly, because that's a strong word to use here) with a foreign government to permit or admit someone to the US that our laws prohibit from being here in the first place, 2) obscuring or covering up the partnership that allowed that to happen in the first place, and 3) lying about or falsifying the justification to allow it.

We know the government lies to us. They lie to us all the time. Some lies we accept. Others we don't. It's when the government covers it up that people get pissed off. It's when the government reminds us of socioeconomic inequality ("rules for thee but not for me") that pisses us off. It's when the government appears to be aiding foreign governments' manipulation of our laws and systems that pisses us off.

And that's what this is. It's a cover-up. If Harry's here on a special A-1 visa connected to his status in the Line of Succession, just come out and say that. But the fact that they've gone to such great lengths to obscure that that visa exists? There's more to it.

One could argue however, that it is the fear of public outcry, that would deter the govts from exposing his stutus. It is also public outrage that would make the govt show accountability.

Nope. They're not scared of us complaining about it. Not here in the US. It's our First Amendment. We're allowed to speak about their decisions, petition them about it, and assemble for it.

Likewise, the US government doesn't fear us holding them accountable. In the grand scheme of accountability, this isn't going to end anyone's career. No one's going to say "I didn't vote for XXXXX because they let Prince Harry in." No one's getting fired over this. The US goverment is not worried about accountability from the American public. We can demand accountability all we want but we're not a loud enough group of people to force action. The Heritage Foundation (who is suing the government on this) might be able to get something, but it's not likely. Worst case scenario, there's a congressional hearing about the "don't let drug users into the country" law that grills the USCIS staff. It's a slap on the wrist.

What the government fears is two-fold:

First, establishing a precedent. The lawsuit over Harry's visa paperwork is essentially about freedom of information. The public has a right to stay informed of the government's activities, which means they have a freedom to government information. But it doesn't mean "all" information; the government can redact and restrict the kind of information it gives in response to these information requests based on certain requirements for privacy, need to know, and authority. Essentially, if the court finds in favor of the Heritage Foundation in the lawsuit, then the court is saying that the government can no longer use certain restrictions and requirements to control certain information about private citizens...which then opens the floodgates for people to request information on other citizens - information they don't have the authority to access and information for which they don't have a need to know - on the basis that they're famous and may have used that privilege to obtain government services. You can see the privacy implications, right?

Second, what other countries will do. The US government is scared of other countries finding out about what privileges Harry and the UK government received that no one else can get. They're worried about other countries holding them accountable for this. They're worried about how other countries - especially our adversaries like Russia, China, and North Korea - will exploit these loopholes. And that is an incredibly dangerous prospect.

Would it actually have any consequences on Harry himself? Sadly, no I don't think so. We know by now he is far beyond shame of any kind.

Of course Harry won't see any consequences. He's not going to get raided by ICE. He won't be frogmarched out of a hotel speech. He won't see any consequences except for maybe Meghan divorcing him and taking custody of the kids because she's not moving back to the UK or to Africa.

Everyone else will see consequences though, and that's what this is about: protecting themselves from consequences.

The US government is protecting itself from what other countries, especially our adversaries, will do. They're also protecting themselves from an American public that will 100% exploit their loopholes and laws to demand equal and equitable treatment.

The UK government is protecting itself, and a weak King, from their people. Charles is on pretty thin ice for wanting Harry back while the British public doesn't. If they were to find out that the King, and the government on the King's behalf, lied about Harry being his representative? Man, that's a crisis. Is it an abdication crisis? I don't know. I'm not British. I couldn't tell you. But it is a crisis of faith and what happens to the monarch in a crisis of faith? Protests, calls for abolishing the monarchy, and an even more public shift in loyalty to the heir.

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

I know this is long and I know I come pretty hard for anon in some places, but I hope this makes it clear: this is about more than Harry's visa. It's about systemic oppression and discrimination by a legal system and government that favors wealthy white people. It's about a potential government conspiracy to obscure someone's diplomatic status. It's about international relations. It's about a fickle fragile monarch who doesn't like criticism and can't afford any more negative coverage.

#brf #in this essay i will

43 notes · View notes

thalialunacy · 2 days

Text

[for the @calaisreno MayProWriMo, which we're halfway through, whaaaat. take heed: I'm gonna call this one nc-17/nsfw/explicit; also smol cw for John being a middle-aged white dude who tries hard.]

16: experiment

'The true method of knowledge is experiment.' -- William Blake

John's birthday do turns into a Rosie-themed party, but he doesn't mind. He's chuffed, truth be told. And not at all biased.

Luckily, all the other adults present are also not at all biased, so she has a willing audience for her various toddler antics, and throws herself into them full-speed.

'Perfect,' John says aside to Sherlock as Rosie demonstrates to the twelfth guest how to use her new rocking horse. The thing is solid. 'She'll wear herself down and pass out as soon as I put her to bed.'

Sherlock glances down at him from where he'd been watching a folded-up Stamford give the toy horse a few rocks before listing to one side and plonking down onto the carpet dramatically. 'You have plans?' he deduces easily while Rosie's giggles spin through the air.

John clears his throat. 'Possibly.'

Sherlock's lips curve into a smile, even after he turns his focus back to the room. 'Indeed.'

---

'In the spirit of science, there really is no such thing as a 'failed experiment.' Any test that yields valid data is a valid test.' -- Adam Savage

In true contrarian form, Rosie fights the fight of the exhausted and over-stimulated when John tries to start her bedtime routine after finally shoving all the guests out the door. He gets more water on him than she does during her bath, she ends up with backwards jammies on because she absolutely refuses to wear them any other way, and she has declared her disgust with every single one of their normal bedtime stories before he can blink.

John loves her to the ends of the earth, but he's suddenly feeling some strong nostalgia for his bachelor days. Very strong. Very. Strong.

A few moments before his patience is truly drained to nil, there's a knock on the door and Sherlock sticks his head in. 'Rosamund?' he asks, walking over and meeting her gaze. 'What's all this?'

'Don't want bad story!' she exclaims with watery eyes, like the idea is tantamount to state-sanctioned torture.

Sherlock glances at John, who just shrugs wearily. 'There's no accounting for taste.'

Sherlock snorts. 'Alright, Watsons. Here's the plan. Watson the Elder will go have a bath and some tea, and Watson the Younger will listen attentively while I tell the most riveting story of all time.'

He tucks her blanket back around her and she settles a little at his touch. Then he starts in with That Voice, and she's no match. 'Long ago, there once was a woman named Marie. She was from a land far, far away called Poland.' John makes a noise, and Sherlock in turn makes a shooing motion at him.

Plodding his way down the stairs, John muses that all of Sherlock's Rosie stories have involved female protagonists, usually non-fictional. They're not a particularly outwardly 'woke' bunch, the residents of 221 Baker St, but John reckons it's the little things. Like raising a daughter with heroes like Marie Curie.

It's not something they've even discussed, as her caretakers, and affection for Sherlock hits John hard in the chest. He's the luckiest bastard in the world, he really is.

---

'Argument is conclusive, but it does not remove doubt, so that the mind may rest in the sure knowledge of the truth, unless it finds it by the method of experiment.' -- Roger Bacon

That appreciation is still lingering when John exits the loo in his bathrobe to find Sherlock sprawled on the kitchen table, which is a new one, reading a book that looks about as old as the earth itself.

'Feel better?' he says without lifting his eyes to John.

John nods, approaching him. 'You left out the part where Marie Curie died of radiation poisoning, yes?'

'Obviously,' Sherlock says, easing his legs over the edge of the table until he's sitting on it like a normal person, but still reading. 'That will keep until she's at least four.'

'Right. What's the book about?' John asks as he makes his way between Sherlock's knees.

Sherlock holds up a pointer finger. 'One moment.'

John shakes his head with a small smile, then without really considering it he rolls his palms up Sherlock's thighs. The detective is still wearing his party trousers, fine wool John really doesn't want to know the cost of, and it feels smooth and satisfying under his skin.

He leaves his hands at the top of Sherlock's thighs, pressing lightly into small spaces. Sherlock coughs. 'If you distract me, it'll take even longer.'

John raises his hands. 'Fine, fine. I'll just be in bed.' He lowers his voice a little. 'In your bed.'

Sherlock goes very still, eyes staying glued to the page. But his thighs tighten around John when he tries to back away.

John chuckles, and debates the merits of keeping his hands to himself. But before he's decided, he's interrupted.

'Done,' Sherlock announces loudly, slapping the book shut and putting it down on the table with only a modicum of care. He pulls John into him immediately, but his brow is a little furrowed. 'Do you mean it?'

'We've shared beds before,' John strings him along with.

Sherlock tuts. 'John Watson, don't be coy, it doesn't suit you.'

John sobers, and then nods. 'I want… ' He goes for the plain truth. The opposite of coy. 'I want to sleep in your bed, and I'd prefer it'd be after some orgasms.'

Sherlock makes a noise John's not sure how to interpret.

'If you want,' John adds lightly.

Crystalline eyes search John's face. 'Aren't you tired?'

His smile blooms slowly. 'Yeah, I am. But not too tired for this.' He reaches up to cradle Sherlock's face in his hands, and kisses him, slow and steady, feeling the beat of his heart.

---

'If I experiment enough, I get a deeper understanding.' -- Terence Tao

The first word gets drawn on Sherlock's right hip.

John's left index finger traces eight letters while his right hand tucks into Sherlock's pants and draws them down and off, his mouth following then trailing along hot, hard skin. He knows Sherlock's watching, and likes the idea that he's being at least a little unpredictable.

He's not done this before, but he's done this before. His tongue, and palate, and salivary glands adjust without much fanfare.

The second word, also eight letters, is then stencilled into Sherlock's right thigh, where the hair is downy, and the tendon cords under John's hand.

'John--' Sherlock murmurs roughly. 'What--'

John, on a whim, tries a thing with his tongue, and Sherlock cuts off with a groan. Then John finds himself so involved he forgets to do the next word until Sherlock pulls him up into a tight embrace.

John lets him, because it leaves him in the perfect position to tongue the ten letters into Sherlock's long, exposed neck.

'John, really. Your penmanship is--' His breath catches as John uses a few teeth. '--terrible.'

John huffs a laugh, genuinely amused. 'Doctor, remember?'

'No excuse,' Sherlock says blithely, then starts pulling away.

John is unashamed to admit he tries to stop him, tries to keep him close. Sherlock's gaze softens, and he leans back in.

'Not going further than this bed,' he says against John's mouth. 'It's just that I have something I wish to do.' He smiles, slow and long, and says, 'You did just have a bath, did you not?'

John searches his face, feeling scorched down to his toes at the implied invitation. His thumb traces the fourth word, only four letters, into the thin skin of Sherlock's unbroken wrist, and Sherlock's eyes widen fractionally.

'Perfect,' Sherlock says, then captures his mouth in another kiss. 'Turn over.'

'Your fracture,' John protests. 'It isn't fully healed.'

Sherlock rolls his eyes, and John is reassured he's still the same as he ever was. 'Which is why you should turn over. I'm going to kneel at the foot of the bed. That alright with you, Doctor?'

'Oh, hell. Yes.'

The fifth word-- Well, John is surprised it took this long for the tables to turn, really, but the fifth word gets bitten into the rounded flesh where John's upper thigh tucks into his arse, before he has a chance to rise up onto his hands and knees. All seven letters, nibbled precisely into sensitive skin while Sherlock's uninjured hand teases at the goal.

'Jesus God,' John mutters weakly. 'Sherlock--'

'Up,' Sherlock says with a tap. John levers himself into position with a grunt, and barely has time to steady himself before Sherlock licks into him.

'Fuck,' he hisses, almost surging forward but being caught round the hip by Sherlock's good hand, steadied.

And then absolutely taken apart.

'Sher--' he falters, ages and a moment later, panting and trying to hold onto his clanging heart. 'Please, come here, I want-- I want you to come with me-- Oh, fuck.''

Sherlock's groan reverberates into him, and John falls onto his forearms, arse held in the air purely by strength of will. He'll congratulate himself later.

When Sherlock pulls away and climbs back onto the bed, John is caught in a messy web of lust and turns over just enough to pull Sherlock down onto his side. 'Please,' he says roughly, reaching for Sherlock's prick. 'Can I--'

'Yes,' Sherlock hisses, seeking out reciprocation. 'Whatever you want.'

And they sync up without too much struggle, racing to bring the other pleasure, and John can't quite remain tethered when he feels Sherlock's tongue tracing the sixth word over his heart. 'Sherlock,' he whispers. He tenses, and it's over; he's awash with sensation and floating away.

---

Seven steps of the scientific method: 1) Question 2) Research 3) Hypothesis 4) Test 5) Analyse 6) Conclusions 7) Communicate.

'You know,' Sherlock says enough moments later that John can focus on him again. 'The seventh step is debatable.'

John smirks sleepily, reaching blindly for his pants to wipe the majority of the evidence off their skin. 'I'd say communication is the most important part, actually.'

Sherlock huffs; John feels it on his temple and decides he's not moving for a while. And it takes a while for Sherlock to say what John can tell is brewing in his mind, anyway. It's alright. He can wait.

'What was that about, truly?' Sherlock finally asks quietly.

'Well,' John says, thinking as he traces figures, meaningless figures this time, into Sherlock's arm. 'Sometimes experiments are about demonstrating a known fact that’s already proven. '

'And this one proved…?'

John's hand comes to a stop. 'Oh, come on, you know what.'

Silence stretches after that statement, and John finally raises his eyes to meet Sherlock's. A smile spreads across his face at what he sees there.

'Just that I love the hell out of you,' he says matter-of-factly.

Sherlock lets out a stream of breath he'd apparently been holding. 'A reasonable conclusion,' he mutters, bringing their mouths together.

John grins, knowing exactly what Sherlock is saying with those words, and lets him have it.

[❤️]

#It's gonna be MAY 2024 #mayprompts2024 #BBC Sherlock #parentlock #johnlock #Rosie is def a toddler #first time #here there be sexytimes

50 notes · View notes