#it makes me think of lazing on a sunday afternoon

[touch-tone-crowley]

This song just makes me think of aziraphale trying to blend in with people and him listening to it in his bookshop with his little conductors hand 😭😭 (this is also the song that was in his head when he decided to propose to crowley)

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Dio Brando x reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] Listen... stoner bff!Dio is a hard sell, but just roll with it. Join me on this ooc journey. (if this looks familiar, that's because this a repost) [ SYNOPSIS ] You get high with your bestie and reveal that no one has ever made you come before. [ WORD COUNT ] 1.5k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, porn/no plot, weed, dubcon (you're both high), oral sex, vaginal fingering, orgasm delay, teasing.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. You and your best friend, Dio, had spent most of the day lazing around, soaking up the mild summer sun that peered through your window. Neither of you had anything of major importance to do, so you both decided getting high and being lumps on your couch was the best way to utilize such a carefree day.

It started out chill, the two of you splitting a bowl with a sprinkling of kief on top. But it didn’t take long for Dio to talk up his “impeccable rolling skills” and demand that you smoke a blunt. You hemmed and hawed, not wanting to smoke that much of your stash, especially because you knew Dio wouldn’t throw five.

But of course he convinced you. Dio constantly weaponized your crush on him to get what he wanted.

It ended up that his rolling skills were truly unmatched. You watched in awe as he crafted a pristine, perfectly fat blunt. You handled it like it was holy, almost too nervous to spark it. However the blonde managed to goad you into lighting it.

You took a puff and slowly breathed out a thick plume of smoke. You passed the blunt back and forth, watching as your exhales filled the room with a smoky haze. After five hits Dio slid off the couch and weaseled his way under the coffee table.

“I cannot be perceived on a visual level right now. Don’t look at me or there will be consequences.”

“Oh, alright. Well… Wanna hear something fucked up?” you asked, passing the blunt to Dio even though he was well beyond his limit.

You looked down at him, not heeding his previous request. You needed to see him, to experience his beauty. Anytime you got high with Dio you couldn’t help but think about how his lips would feel brushing up against yours, how his fingers would feel inside your cunt. Plus he looked so ridiculous, it was distracting. His feet and arms gracelessly stuck out from under the table, limbs too long for concealment.

He was never very good at keeping composure when smoking top-shelf shit.

“Of course,” he replied as he grabbed the blunt from you. His elegant fingers rubbed up against yours and you felt lightheaded from his touch.

You giggled. “No one has ever made me come before.”

He poked his blonde head out from the table, his dark eyes radiating pity.

“Surely you’re joking.”

“Nope. I wish. Every sexual encounter I’ve had has been disappointing.”

“That’s tragic. Don’t tell me things like that,” he said, taking a hit.

You reached for it, assuming it was your turn, but Dio didn’t hand it over.

“You said you wanted to hear something fucked up!”

“I thought you’d talk about something fun like a car accident. What you said was just… sad.”

Dio took a sizable puff, blowing the smoke in your face. You scowled and snatched the blunt from him. He gazed up at you, his face adorned with a condescending smirk.

“I could make you come.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Though I can’t imagine it’d be difficult.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, getting defensive.

He made grabby hands which you proceeded to kick away. He pouted and sighed. Seeing him like this was hilarious. You almost felt like getting Dio high domesticated him. He was a little slower, a little sweeter, but still somewhat of a gadfly.

“You seem easy.”

“What?!” you exclaimed while stubbing out the joint in an empty glass.

“No, not… not easy. I mean, hm.” He was choosing his words carefully. “You would probably come fast because you’ve never come… before.”

“Okay well I don’t know if you know this, but there is this thing called masturbation and people do it.”

“I, Dio, know what masturbation is.”

“So you just assumed I don’t masturbate? Is that the vibe I give off?”

“Stop saying so many words,” Dio groaned, resuming his place next to you on the couch. “Do you want to come or not?”

“Excuse me?”

Dio was getting annoyed with you and frustrated by his inability to articulate his thoughts to his liking. “You want me to make you come, right? That’s what you’re getting at.”

“Sure?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Lay down,” he ordered. “Take your shorts off.”

You were more than happy to do so. Quickly you pulled your shorts off along with your underwear and threw them across the room. You grabbed one of the pillows and placed it on the arm rest and reclined, letting your body sink into the cushions. Dio turned to you and got on his knees before settling into a modified child’s pose, leaving his head in your lap.

It was quite a view. You ran your fingers through his thick hair, watching the silky, golden strands slide between them. He looked angelic, though with a rather Luciferian feel.

“Has anyone ever gone down on you before?”

“Kinda? A guy tried, but gave up after like a minute.”

“That hardly counts,” he said, spreading apart your folds.

You had no witty retort so you kept quiet.

Dio slipped two fingers inside your cunt, pressing them up against your walls. When he pulled them out he sucked them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. He had apparently decided he could be perceived at this time.

“You taste divine.”

“Th—thanks? Thank you.”

He gave you a quizzical look and began to suck on your clit, deeming your comment unworthy of a response. You didn’t mind; you were too focused on how your clit throbbed in between his soft lips.

“That feels so good,” you mewled.

“I know,” he said, ego untempered even though he was high.

He flicked the tip of his tongue against your clit as your body bloomed with arousal. You watched as he lapped at your cunt, his back arched like a cat. It was such a contrived position, an attempt to maximize his allure, but it worked. He had you transfixed, a successful spell cast. You surrendered yourself to him and his enchanting looks.

With each languid lick, you felt as if you were ascending to a higher plane. You cursed Dio for being right. He had barely put in any work and you were already fighting back crashing waves of euphoria. It wasn’t necessarily better than masturbation, just different. Being able to lie back and let someone else do the work was a treat.

Your legs flexed and your toes curled as Dio tongued the side of your clit. He thrust three of his fingers inside you, curling them upwards almost as if he was beckoning your orgasm.

“Fuck,” you groaned.

You clenched your teeth and tried to stave off the warmth overtaking you. It was as if every cell in your body was drowning in pleasure. It all became too much to bear and you buried your face in your hands.

Dio let out a displeased groan.

“Did I tell you to stop playing with my hair?”

You uncovered your face and met his gaze. It was cold and unfeeling. You resumed running your fingers through his hair.

“That’s what I thought,” he muttered.

He began to fingerfuck you while he traced your aching clit with his tongue. You gritted your teeth and struggled not to clench your fists. The last thing you wanted to do was yank on his hair while his teeth were so close to your cunt.

“D—shit—Dio, I’m gonna—”

“Not yet,” he cooed.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “Please!”

He encircled your clit with his tongue and managed to squeeze his pinky inside you along with his fingers. You gasped, nearly choking on your own breath.

“Hush. Not yet,” he said sweetly.

You let out a pained groan as he kissed your clit. “I hate you.”

Like clockwork he grazed your folds with his teeth. Shockingly you didn’t hate the sensation.

“So good,” you mumbled, unable to form a complete sentence.

His eyes seemed to light up, like he was proud of what he was accomplishing.

Your orgasm wasn’t bombastic. You didn’t shriek Dio’s name or flop around uncontrollably. Your body felt tingly and your muscles tensed up. Your breathing quickened and you whined a little, begging for more.

Dio sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He plucked the blunt out of the cup and lit it, taking a drag. He then laid on top of you and cupped your cheek with one of his hands. He placed his lips on yours and pushed his tongue past your teeth. You let your tongue writhe against his as he exhaled the smoke in your mouth.

“Told you,” he whispered in your ear.

You blew the smoke in his face, making him wriggle his nose.

“Yeah, yeah. It was good,” you said, trying to act as if you weren’t beaming on the inside.

“Hmph. If you think that was good, wait until I fuck you.”

[neverwanttofallasleep]

I Never Want To Fall Asleep - Chapter 4

Word count: 7,109

For pairings, warnings, and disclaimer - see Masterpost

Sunday, December 18th, 2022

London, England to New York, New York

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to London Heathrow International Airport. We are now boarding for Jet Blue flight 20 to New York City. Could all passengers in rows 17 to 26 please make their way to gate A17 and have your boarding passes ready. Thank you, and enjoy your flight.”

You stand up, grabbing your backpack from the seat next to you, slinging it over your shoulder.

“Don’t rush, Y/N. We’ve got heaps of time.” You look back at Jake, still lazing across the uncomfortable airport lounge seats, bag behind his head. 

You frown. “I’m in row 18, so I should go now.”

He grumbles, and leans over the back of the chairs to Danny on the other side.

“Hey, do you mind swapping with Y/N and sitting with Jules?” He asks.

Danny looks up at you and smiles. “‘Course not. Here.” He reaches over, handing you his boarding pass. 

“No, Danny, you don’t have to do that.”

He waves his hand at you. “Come on, I insist. I love Jules, and besides, we’ve got lots of gossip to catch up on.” He looks to her where she’s standing next to you, and she gives him an exaggerated wink.

You huff. “Okay, fine. Thanks, Danny.” You take the paper from him and hand him yours.

Danny stands up. “It’s my pleasure. Shall we, Jules?”

As they walk away, you sit back down and check Danny’s ticket. 11C.

“Now we can sit together.” Jake smirks at you as you sit back down, closing his eyes again.

“Who else is in your row?”

He opens his eyes. “No one. I’d had it booked for Lily, but, y’know, she didn’t end up making it out.”

You nod. “Okay.”

When they finally call for rows 8 to 16, Jake reluctantly stands up and stretches. The two of you make your way to the gate, with Josh trailing behind.

You’d met with Lennon and Sam in the hotel restaurant for breakfast as they’d nursed their hangovers, catching you up on their escapades from the night before. When they’d badgered you about your holiday plans, you tried to keep it vague, mentioning you were planning to do a few things in New York.

It wasn’t entirely a lie.

Last night, when Jake had asked you to come to his family home for Christmas, you’d immediately said no. You’d pulled your hand from his, sat up in bed, and turned the lamp back on.

“Why on earth would I do that?”

Jake had chuckled. “’Cause I want you to be there?” He’d sat up too, propping himself against the headboard with a pillow.

You rolled your eyes. “And you told me off for referring to us as co-dependant.”

He’d laughed at you. “I know, I know. You were right. I know you don’t really have plans, and I didn’t think you’d be that crushed not to be spending the holidays alone in New York for the hundredth time. You’ve missed out on so many family Christmases. I want you to have a happy one.”

You scoffed. “That’s not the point, Jake. I can’t just crash Christmas with your family. Besides, I don’t want to be a seventh wheel. Sammy will have Lennon, Josh is bringing his new boyfriend, he already told me. And you’ll have Lily. I don’t know your sister at all. I’d feel so awkward.”

Jake had frowned. “Lennon’s not coming, she’s with her family. That’s why her and Sam are staying in London a bit longer. And, uh, Lily can’t make it this year. College.”

You hummed, still not really considering it. “I’ve never met your parents, or been to Michigan, for that matter. Where would I sleep? It’s not like I can share a twin bed with you, what would they think?”

He leaned over and twisted your hand so he could hold it. “You can sleep wherever you like, Y/N. I don’t care what they think. It’s none of their business.”

You’d groaned. “I can’t come to Frankenmuth to be your stand-in girlfriend. That’s ridiculous. I won’t be able to contribute anything and I’ll just get in the way.”

“You already know my brothers. Well, in fact. And they love you. And Ronnie and my parents will, too. You’ll feel right at home.” You turned your head to face him, his eyes earnest. “You don’t have to contribute anything. No one will expect gifts from you, and my mom always makes way too much food.”

“Won’t you be going to see your extended family? Or having them over? That’d just be too much.”

He’d shaken his head. “My grandparents host a dinner on Christmas Eve, but only my parents are going. Danny, my siblings and I have a tradition of watching Die Hard, and, y’know, ‘cause we’re not there that long this year, we managed to get ourselves out of it. You’d just hang out with us.”

“I have to go to New York. We have meetings when I get back. I still have work to do, my break doesn’t technically start ’til December 21st. I can’t just cut and run.”

He smiled. “That’s fine. I’m not going home ‘til the 20th, anyway. I’m going back to Nashville first to get my car. I’ll get you a flight on the 21st and I can come pick you up at the airport.”

You’d looked at him properly, then. His face was hopeful. You really felt like this could be a bad idea, and you didn’t know if it was appropriate, especially given the predicament you’d found yourselves in over the last few days. But the idea of spending Christmas with a family that was warm and inviting, friends you knew and trusted, it sounded so appealing.

The thought of waking up next to Jake on Christmas morning, even if it was the only time you’d ever get to do so, was magical.

“You really want me to come?”

He’d nodded. “I can’t really imagine it without you. You’re family.”

You smiled. “Okay, then. I’ll come.”

He’d laughed, and it sounded overjoyed. You felt a warmth spreading through your bones.

You switched off the lamp as he threw his arms around your waist, tackling you, still laughing, and pulled you down into him, wrapping his frame around yours and resting his nose in your hair.

“I can’t wait. It is the Christmas capital of the USA, you know. You’re going to love it.”

You’d giggled. You couldn’t wait, either.

But you weren’t sure how to broach the subject with Sammy and Lennon, so you didn’t. You assumed Jake would update his whole family before your inevitable arrival, and you didn’t feel like you should be the one to break the news.

You’d given them both big hugs and they’d wished you a happy holidays, making you promise to send photos of yourself in Times Square in the snow, and you’d laughed and wished them a good stay in London. Sam was driving up to Michigan on Thursday, so Jake had plenty of time to tell him.

Jake lets you take the window seat on the plane. You love being able to see the city as you take off, and you try and scavenge a window seat any time you can. He sits on the aisle, your bags on the empty seat between you.

As the plane takes off, you excitedly point out Big Ben to him, and the London Bridge. While the flight attendant isn’t looking, he slides across to the middle seat for a better view.

“Isn’t it amazing? All the places you hear about, read about in books or see in movies, right there. Underneath us!”

He chuckles at you. “Yeah. It’s pretty incredible.”

The flight isn’t too long, considering it’s international, only 8 hours. You sleep a little when you can, your head on Jake’s shoulder. You know that with the time difference, it’ll only be around 6pm when you touch down at JFK.

You watch a few episodes of The Office together, snacking on the tasteless airplane food, with Josh pestering you from the row behind every so often to share a funny passage of his book.

Once you finally land and disembark in New York, your legs are jelly. You’re so ready to roll straight into your new hotel bed. You collect your baggage from the carousel.

Jake, Josh and Danny have a connecting flight to Nashville, so you say your goodbyes in the airport as Jake hunts the board for their gate number.

“Ugh. Flight’s delayed, and we have to go to the domestic terminal to check our bags again. You should just head out from here, Y/N. Freddie and Jules are waiting for you. We’ll be fine.” Jake turns to Josh to check their flight details on his phone.

Danny wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“Have a safe flight, Danny.” You tell him, resting your head back against his chest.

“I will. It’s not me you have to worry about.” He chuckles, gesturing to the twins bickering in front of you. You turn your head to smile up at him.

Josh pulls you in for a big hug. “Happy Christmas, mama. May your days be merry and bright, and all that shit.” He waves his hands in the air, in very Josh fashion.

You giggle. “You too, Josh. Don’t forget to water my plants while you’re in Nashville.”

He waves you off. “That’s Jake’s problem. If you leave it up to me, they’ll die faster.” 

You and Danny laugh. You know he’s right.

Josh looks to Jake. “Just gonna run to the bathroom before we go, brother. Meet us over there.” He points to the bathroom down the hall, gives Danny a knowing look, and they disappear with a wave.

You turn to Jake and give him a small smile. “So, I’ll see you in a few days, then?”

“Yep. Wednesday. Only three sleeps. And you get to be an honorary Kiszka for the holidays. How exciting is that?”

You laugh. “Extremely. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too.” He grins. “Michigan will suit you.”

He leans in to you, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly, yours around his neck.

“Fly safe.” You whisper into his hair.

“I will. Enjoy New York.”

“I will.”

He kisses your forehead, and with that, he’s gone.

Monday, December 19th and Tuesday, December 20th 2022

New York, New York

Your three nights in New York go by too fast. One minute, you’re waking up in your new hotel room and getting dressed to head to the office for the crew debrief, the next minute, you’re repacking to head back to the airport. 

Over the few days you’re there, you have to attend two meetings for the tour. After the debrief on Monday, you receive itineraries for the US and Canadian legs, and instructions on where to meet for the rundown the next day. 

Monday evening you meet with your college friends, drinking in a dingy bar in Brooklyn until the wee hours of the morning. You have a wonderful time, sharing stories from tour and hearing about their lives in the city.

You also have a few work appointments, some in person and some virtual, meeting with the designers for alterations and getting to see some new designs. You’re complimented on your mending and maintenance by all of them, and they each thank you for keeping the integrity of their work.

“Some professionals with 20 years of experience can’t do repairs this well.” One of them says to you.

That makes you burst with pride, as you’d really tried your best to keep all the pieces looking as good as they did when they were handed over to you. Normal wear and tear was common, but it was your job to make sure no one noticed it.

After the second crew meeting on Tuesday afternoon, you, Julie and Freddie go out for dinner. Freddie snaps the obligatory picture of you and Jules in Times Square, snowflakes dusting your cheeks, which you quickly send to Lennon and Sam with the caption:

Right through the very heart of it, New York, New York!

You eat sushi at your favourite hole-in-the-wall Japanese restaurant, and toast to your incredible jobs with warm sake. You give them your handmade Christmas gifts, charcoal and white striped socks for Freddie, and a lilac crocheted headband for Jules.

“To keep your hair out of your face for work!” You tell her excitedly.

You’re so happy, you love these people so much. You feel so lucky.

Jake has texted you a few times. 

Sunday, 11.04pm Jake: Made it home. Flight was shit, delayed and lots of turbulence. Storm coming tonight, apparently. Hope you’re asleep. Talk tomorrow x

Monday, 2.43pm Jake: <voice message> ‘Hey. I’m in the car. I, uh, thought it would be a good idea to go to the fucking mall 6 days before Christmas. It was a goddamn nightmare, I’d even made a list and I still had to leave before I got everything. Some woman with a baby in a stroller literally took a book out of my basket at the bookstore. It was so fucked. I’m never going shopping again.’

He’d sounded very grumpy, and it made you giggle.

Tuesday, 11.16am Jake: <5 photo attachments> Plants are still alive, see? The monstera looked a little sad but I’ve left it sitting in the tub with some water. Picked up the books, wasn’t sure which ones you wanted so I just got everything on your nightstand. Hope thats ok. Josh and I heading straight home from here. Will let you know when we arrive x

8.35pm Jake: We made it. Hope you’re having a nice time at dinner. That photo of you and Jules is very sweet. See you tomorrow. Bring all the warm things you have x

After dinner, you and Julie hole up in your hotel room, drinking beers from the mini-bar and eating the complimentary chocolates in your pyjamas.

You unload your tote bag full of summer clothes from tour onto her, and she promises to keep them safe in her hotel room until you return.

“Fuck, I’m gonna miss you so much. Freddie is gonna bore me to death. If I have to hear about his damn ex from Atlanta one more time…”

You laugh and slap her leg. “You’ll be fine, Jules. It’s less than two weeks, and you’ve got the weekend with your parents to look forward to. They’ll be here before you know it, and then I’ll be back here on the 2nd, and we’ll have as many girls nights as we can squeeze in when we’re back on the road.”

She smiles and rests her head on your shoulder. “Are you gonna be okay, babe? Christmas with his family? Are you sure that’s what you wanna do?”

You sigh. “Yeah, I’m sure. He really wants me there, and I wanna go too. I really miss family Christmases, and I can’t stand mine, so…”

She laughs. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I am.”

“Then have the best fucking time. Send me all the updates. God, I wish I had a rockstar boyfriend to take me to a cute as fuck Christmas town for the holidays.”

You giggle and rest your head on top of hers. “He’s not my boyfriend. But I will. Thanks, Jules.”

Wednesday, December 21st

Detroit, Michigan to Frankenmuth, Michigan

You turn on your phone as soon as the flight attendant gives you permission via the overhead announcement. 2.28pm. You’re taxiing now, and you can see the snow dusting the sprawling green fields around the airport through your tiny window. Jake’s texted to let you know he’ll be waiting for you at domestic arrivals, and you start to feel nervous.

You disembark the plane, making your way through the gate to the luggage carousel. Your bag is one of the last to come out, which just gives you more time to stand around, tapping your foot anxiously. 

You don’t really know why you feel so nervous. You guess it’s not really about seeing Jake, but more about going to his home. Seeing where he grew up, meeting the rest of his family. It all feels very personal, like you’re about to see a side of him not many get to see.

You’re excited to spend time in the Midwest, see the Great Lakes, explore parts of your country you’ve never been to before. But you’re most excited to spend your favourite holiday with your friend. 

Your best friend. That’s what he is.

You wonder if he feels the same way about you.

When you finally see him, you feel a weight lifted. Being in his presence is instantly comforting.

When he sees you, his face lights up.

“You made it!” He pulls you off the ground into a hug.

“I made it! I’m in Michigan!”

“You’re in Michigan!” He laughs bewilderedly, as if he can’t quite believe it.

Neither can you.

He sets you down, and takes your bag as you head out to the parking lot.

You nudge his shoulder with your own. “Who would’ve thought it, hey? The famous Jake Kiszka,  guitarist extraordinare, bringing his tour wardrobe coordinator to Frankenmuth for Christmas with Mom and Dad.” You giggle.

He scoffs and wraps his arm around you. “Y/N, you’re not just our wardrobe coordinator. You’re my friend. I’m so happy you’re here.”

You blush deeply. “I’m happy to be here, too, Jake.”

“I’m glad. Wouldn’t have wanted you to come all this way and have a terrible time, y’know.”

You chuckle. “Well, it hasn’t really started yet. I might have an awful time. At least the flight was only an hour and a half. Not too much of a waste.”

He rolls his eyes as he pops the trunk of his Jeep and loads your bags.

You whistle. “Forgot you had such a fancy car.”

He laughs. “Yeah. I haven’t been using it much, but it’s good for driving up here.”

“I bet.” You nod, and climb in.

“You hungry?”

“Yeah, actually. Starving.” As you speak, you hear your stomach grumble. You look at him sheepishly.

He chuckles. “Sounds like it. Let’s get you some food.”

Jake stops for drive-through at the first fast food restaurant you pass, an unspoken agreement that neither of you wants to delay your journey to Frankenmuth any more than necessary. He orders for you, a cheeseburger, fries, and a strawberry shake, and then gives you a questioning look, as if to make sure he hasn’t overstepped. You nod, smiling. Your belly does a little flip. 

When you’re back on the highway, you sip your milkshake, staring out the window, admiring the never-ending rolling greenery bordering the road. Jake’s playing his music through the car stereo, and you smile each time you recognise a song. Some of it folky, some classic rock. All of it the perfect soundtrack for this beautiful drive.

The further north you go, the denser and more lush the trees become, with more snow dripping from the branches. You talk about your favourite Christmas traditions, which movies you watch, what carols your parents play, what you like to eat around the holidays. You tell Jake about your favourite childhood Christmas, when you managed to rope your entire family into a production of the nativity scene. None of your family were religious, but you were so excited after learning about it at school, so they indulged you. You organised the whole thing, and made all the costumes, of course. Your two uncles and your grandmother were the three wise men. Your parents played the donkey, your mom the head, and your dad the tail. Your aunt was pregnant at the time, so naturally she was cast as the Virgin Mary. You were eight.

Jake tells you about how he and his siblings would always perform Christmas concerts for their family as kids. As he put it, he was the only one who ever knew how to play anything remotely good, but Josh would bash the drum kit, and Sam and Ronnie would sing bluesy renditions of Christmas carols. Sometimes their dad would join them on the harmonica. His favourite one was when he was nine, when he and Josh learned how to play ‘Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree’, because it was Sam’s favourite. Sam got so excited that he tried to sing along with a mouthful of jell-o and ended up with it all down his front.

You feel so warm when he talks about his family. You love to hear about his past, the stories and experiences that make him who he is.

You’ve been mostly quiet for this last half hour, only making a few comments about how pretty the scenery is, him humming in agreement. You’ve busied yourself with your knitting, and you’ve almost finished Danny’s scarf.

You look over to Jake, and find him looking back at you. He quickly flicks his gaze back out the windscreen.

“Eyes on the road, Kiszka.” You scold.

He blushes and clears his throat. “Not long now. About 20 minutes. It’ll take a bit longer, but do you want me to drive through town so you can see it?”

You grin. “Absolutely.”

The main township is only a few minutes from the highway, and you gasp as he drives through the centre of it. You point out a beautiful old building, flowers and trees surrounding a circular driveway, right in the middle of the main street.

“What’s that? It’s so pretty!” You look over at him excitedly.

Jake laughs. “That’s the visitors' centre. That’s the point, I guess.”

Your smile grows wider and turn back out your window.

The town is exactly as you’d expected, and it really does feel like little Bavaria. Cute, peaked roofs and quaint European street signs. Every lamppost is decorated with Christmas lights, snow covering the sidewalks, and there are locals wandering around on their afternoon errands, bundled up in coats and hats. It’s like magic.

“I feel like I’m in a Christmas movie!” You giggle.

Jake laughs.

He even takes you past his old high school, pointing out the music rooms where he’d used to have jazz band practice. It makes you smile to see him so proud of his hometown, and so excited to be sharing it with you.

When he’d told you stories about Frankenmuth on tour, he’d always complained about the tourist traps and the kitschy architecture, but seeing him in it, he really seemed like he belonged. And even if it was just the nostalgia or the familiarity, it really seemed like he loved it here, too.

You finally make your way back out of town, and he lets you know when you’re nearing his street.

“They know I’m coming, right?”

Jake laughs. “Yes, they know you’re coming. I texted Mom when you said yes. And I told Josh and Kai on the way up yesterday.”

You nod. “Kai? That’s the new boyfriend, right?”

“Yeah! I think you’ll really like him.” He smiles. “He’s cool, grew up in LA so he’s definitely out of his element here, y’know. But he’s really nice, and him and Josh are good together. Balance each other out. You’ll see.”

You feel warm hearing Jake talk about Kai. You know first hand how strong he and Josh’s bond is, so you figure their relationships with their twin’s partners must have to be so important for them. Given their twin telepathy, you can’t imagine Josh would ever choose someone Jake wouldn’t approve of, and vice versa.

You’d never met Lily in person, but you’d heard stories from Josh, Sam, and Danny. Jake didn’t talk about her much. She’d grown up in Frankenmuth too, and from what you knew, it sounded like she’d been in and out of Jake’s life for a while before they finally got together during senior year. She came from a wealthy family, and she’d always been interested in commerce and law, but her love of literature and art was what she and Jake had bonded over.

Josh had mentioned to you once that Lily had taken him to painting classes as a birthday gift. She sounded perfect, and you were secretly glad she wasn’t going to be here this year. You’re sure you would get along, if Jake liked her, then so would you. But you were glad you wouldn’t have to live in her shadow, and even though you knew your relationship with Jake would have to change eventually, you were happy to play pretend with him for just a little while longer.

As Jake pulls into the driveway, your nerves flood back. You’re all of a sudden terrified of meeting his parents, his sister. You feel like you’re going to stick out like a sore thumb. It’s different for Kai, you’re not Jake’s partner, and you’re probably never going to be back here again. You’re just a temporary guest, a work friend, with no future in this family.

Jake pulls the keys from the ignition and looks over at you, placing his hand over yours on your knee.

“It’s going to be fine. I want you here with me. That’s all that matters.”

You nod, a little shaky. “Yep, I know. It’s gonna be great.”

He chuckles. “It is. Take a deep breath. There’s nothing to be worried about.”

He gets your bags from the trunk and you follow the path up to the house. As you’re approaching the steps, the front door swings open.

“My baby is here! Come here, Jakey, give your momma a hug!” Jake laughs and puts your things down on the porch, walking right into his mother’s arms.

“Oh, honey, I’ve missed you!” She coos, rubbing circles on his back.

“Missed you too, Mom.��� He takes a step back. “This is my friend, Y/N.” He looks at you. “Y/N, this is my mom, Karen.”

She opens her arms to you. “So good to meet you, sweetheart. Jake’s so happy you could make it, and so am I!” She embraces you in a sweet, motherly hug, and you instantly feel calm.

Everything was gonna be okay.

When you step back, you look at Jake questioningly.

“Didn’t you get here last night?”

He laughs as he grabs your bags and Karen ushers you into the house. “Yeah, I did. But Mom was out of town at our aunt’s place. She only got home while I was out getting you.”

“You can imagine how excited I was to get home to my kiddos, only to discover half of them weren’t even here!”

You look toward Jake guiltily and he cracks a smile. “Well, I’m here now, momma. And Sam will be here tomorrow, so you’ll have all of us together.”

She grins, a huge smile that lights up her face. “Yes, I will. And don’t worry, Y/N, I’m not upset that Jake went to go pick you up. But you can understand, if have to be stuck with only one of my boys, Josh certainly is the most painful.” She laughs.

“Already telling Y/N who your favourite child is, momma? Geeze, let her breathe. She’s only been in the door 30 seconds.” Josh pokes his head out into the entryway.

You give him a small smile. “Hi, Josh.”

He comes out and sweeps you up into a hug. “Well, you certainly pulled a fast one on us. I take back the Merry Christmas I wished you at the airport. Gotta save it for the real thing.”

You giggle. “Yeah, sorry about that. Thought Jake should probably tell you himself.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry, lover. The more the merrier!”

Two new faces now poke out from the room Josh has just emerged from.

The small brunette girl smiles at you, her long, golden brown hair flowing down her back.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Ronnie.”

“Nice to meet you too, Ronnie.” You grin at her. She looks so much like Jake.

The other, a tall, dark haired man walks over to Josh and places his hand on his waist.

Josh looks up at him and then back to you.

“And Y/N, this is Kai.”

He has a sweet smile. “Hey, Y/N. Glad you’re here. Takes the pressure off a bit, I reckon.”

You giggle. “Hey, Kai. Glad to be of assistance.”

Jake looks to Karen. “Where’s Dad? I thought yesterday was his last day of work.”

Karen sighs. “Nope, they managed to rope him into staying ’til Friday. He should be back around 6, so you’ll see him for dinner.”

Jake nods. “Alright. Y/N, lets get your bags upstairs, hey?”

You smile at everyone as they trudge back through to what you assume is the living room, Karen giving your hand a sweet pat, and you follow Jake up the stairs.

The first door at the top of the staircase reads ‘Sammy’ in little wooden letters. You smile. You follow Jake down the hall and to the left, and he swings open the door.

“Welcome to my room.”

You giggle. 

It’s quite a large bedroom, and when you look around, you see walls covered in band posters, a stack of vinyls in one corner. The walls are painted a navy blue with white trim, and there’s glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling. There’s a desk, piled high with books, and guitar rack with a few acoustics and one electric. There’s two dressers, overflowing with clothes, and one closet in the corner that also looks like it’s bursting at the seams. 

Against the two far walls, there are two twin beds.

One of them is made up neatly, fresh towels on the end. The books Jake picked up from your house sitting on the nightstand. The other, the one under the window, looks mussed up, and you guess this must be where Jake slept last night.

You linger in the doorway as he puts your bags down on the untouched bed.

“Is this yours and Josh’s room?” You ask.

He chuckles. “Yeah. He and Kai are on the fold out in the basement, though. So it’s just you and me in here.”

You walk over and sit down on the made bed, nodding.

Jake sits on his bed. “Is it what you expected?”

“Yeah, I think so. I don’t know, really. You never told me you and Josh shared a room.”

He laughs. “Didn’t I? Sorry. I think it’s why I like sharing a bed so much, y’know. Grew up with snoring 5 feet away from me. Now I can’t sleep without it.”

You give a little smile. “That makes sense.”

He frowns. “You don’t snore, Y/N. Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” You look at him. “I’m just a little overwhelmed, is all.”

“Were you expecting we’d share a bed?” He’s looking you over, as if trying to read your mind. “‘Cause I kinda wasn’t sure if you’d want to. I didn’t know if you were joking, what you said at the hotel. If you want, y’know, you can share with me anyway. At least with two beds in here, no one will have to know.” He grins.

“It’s okay, Jake. Really. We don’t have to share. We’ll have each other’s company, anyway.”

He nods. “Alright. Do you wanna, uh, unpack? Or do you wanna come downstairs? Up to you, no pressure.”

“Meet you down there in a bit?”

“Sure, no worries.” He smiles and leaves, closing the door gently behind him.

You don’t know what came over you just now. You guess you hadn’t really given too much thought to your sleeping arrangement, and you'd figured you’d either be bunking in Jake's bed or set up in a guest room, somewhere. You hadn’t imagined that you’d be just sharing a room, having him so close, yet just out of arms reach. That felt worse, somehow.

You’re here for 12 nights, which is kind of a long time, when you think about it. You’d originally only agreed to stay for Christmas, but Jake had talked you into staying on for Danny’s birthday celebrations and into the New Year, excitedly telling you about their plans to set off fireworks at the lake for New Years Eve.

“We’ve just spent one too many in cities, y’know. We need a break this year. It’ll be just us, no party or anything. You’ll love it.” He’d said, trying to convince you, and you’d eventually agreed.

As you unpack a few things onto the nightstand, plugging in your phone charger, you centre yourself. This will be fine. This is what you signed up for. You’re going to have a great time.

You eventually make it downstairs to find everyone in the living room, Joni Mitchell playing on the record player by the fireplace. Kai is on the recliner, Josh sitting on the ottoman between his feet. Jake and Ronnie are sitting at opposite ends of the couch, and when Josh sees you, he gestures to the spot between them.

“Come sit down! We’re catching Ronnie and Kai up on tour stories. I’m sure Y/N has plenty to share about how she deals with us troublesome boys on the road.” Josh cackles.

You giggle, sliding in next to Jake, and he leans over to you.

“Want a drink?”

“Uh, yeah, yes please. What are you having?” You eye his glass.

“Scotch, but there’s beer and wine in the kitchen. What would you like?”

You hum. “Beer sounds good, thanks.”

You all spend a few hours chattering and catching up, getting to know Kai and Ronnie. Jake and Josh boast about you to the others, commending you on their costumes. You brush it off, clarifying you were just maintaining the work of the designers. In turn, you compliment the boys on their music, calling out your favourite songs or particular performances from Europe that you'd loved. 

When Kelly, Jake’s dad, arrives home, Karen calls you all in for dinner. You migrate to the dining table, where Karen, Ronnie, and Jake serve everyone’s plates, and you all end up with huge helpings of roast chicken and vegetables.

“Thanks so much, Karen. This all looks delicious.” You give her a warm smile.

“Yeah, thanks, Mom, but why did you make a roast? Won’t we be having like 3 more roast dinners over the weekend? You didn’t have to go all this trouble, I would’ve been happy with something simple.” Josh looks perplexed.

Karen laughs, and Kelly answers. “Your mother loves to cook for her family. Any night with you kids here is a special occasion.”

You all laugh.

Josh scoffs. “Unlike you, Dad. Last night we were left to fend for ourselves. Kai and I had to eat instant ramen.”

“Oh, hush, Joshua. You’ve made a terrible impression on our guest.” Karen scolds. “We’re not usually such bad hosts, Kai.”

Kai shrugs. “I didn’t mind it.”

Jake shakes his head at Josh. “Well, maybe if you’d learned how to cook, that wouldn’t be a problem.” He looks to Karen. “Thanks, momma. It’s special for us, too.” He smiles, and his hand brushes your thigh under the table, where he leaves it to rest.

You feel your cheeks warming.

Karen reaches over to pat Jake’s other hand. “You’re welcome, baby. Any time.”

Kelly pours the wine and raises his glass. “To my beautiful children, and their friends and partners,” he smiles at Kai, and then at you, “thank you for being here. We’ve missed you very much and we’re so proud of you. Welcome home.”

Karen looks like she might cry. “One more night, and I’ll have all of you under one roof.”

You all cheers, and dig in.

After dinner you’re all left sufficiently full, Josh collapsed on the couch in a food coma with his head in Kai’s lap. Ronnie goes to retire to her room, she flew in from Chicago this morning and is ready for bed. You wish her good night and she gives you a hug, telling you how great it was to meet you.

“My brother is so happy you’re here. Couldn’t stop talking about it last night.” She says in your ear.

You pull back, blushing. “I’m glad to be here, too.”

She pulls you aside, out of earshot of Jake and her parents talking in the dining room.

“I know about him and Lily’s arrangement, you know, so I won’t pretend I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you.” She smiles. She doesn’t look upset with you, but there’s something underlying her tone. “Don’t worry, Mom and Dad have no idea. Just… be careful. I know my brother, and I know he often bites off more than he can chew. He’s got a big heart, and he doesn’t know where to put all that love. Don’t let yourself get in over your head.” 

You nod, her words dropping like rocks in your stomach.

“We’re not sleeping together.” You say quietly.

She hums. “All the more reason. No sex, and he’s this attached to you? Just don’t do anything you can’t get yourself out of. Lily will come back, she always does.” 

She gives you a small wave and heads upstairs.

You feel sick. Everything Ronnie said, you already knew. You just didn’t want to have your suspicions confirmed. Honestly, you were surprised Josh hadn’t given you the same talk.

After cups of tea and biscuits at the dining table with Jake’s parents, you decide it’s time for you to go to bed, too.

You stand up, and Jake follows suit. 

“I’m gonna head upstairs. I’m exhausted.”

He nods. “Alright, me too.”

You give him a small smile. “Good night, Karen. Thanks again for having me here. I really appreciate you making the room.”

She huffs and waves her hand at you. “Don’t be silly, sweetheart. It’s our pleasure. You’re so important to Jake, so you are to us, too. If you need anything, just let me know.” 

She stands up and comes around the table to give you both a kiss on the cheek.

“‘Night, Mom.”

Kelly doesn’t get up, but he smiles warmly at you both.

“‘Night, kids.”

“‘Night, Dad. Thanks for the bourbon.” Jake grins.

“Good night, Kelly. Thanks again.”

He nods. “Sleep well.”

You make your way upstairs, Jake on your heels.

You collect your t-shirt and shorts for bed and toiletries from your duffle, and Jake points you in the direction of the bathroom.

You have a hot shower, and it soothes the anxiety radiating through you. Once you get out and into your pyjamas, you comb out your hair, leaving it out to dry while you sleep. You brush your teeth, applying some skin care, and giving yourself one final once-over in the mirror.

You head back to Jake’s room and find him already in bed, curled up with one of your books, reading glasses on. You giggle.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear glasses.” You say, shutting the door behind you and padding over to Josh’s bed.

He looks up from the page and smiles at you. “I don’t really on tour. I’m always so tired I never really get to read, y’know.”

“They suit you.”

“Well, thanks.”

You slip under the covers, scrolling through Instagram for a while. You send a text to Jules to let her know you made it here safely, and everything was all good.

A few times, Jake breaks the quiet, reading a you passage from the book that he thinks you might like. You don’t tell him you’ve already read that one, but he chooses all your favourite parts anyway. You like to hear him read aloud. 

After 20 minutes or so, Jake switches off the light, and you plug in your phone, curling up in the small bed.

“Are you happy you came?” Jake speaks into the dark room.

“Yeah, of course. Your family are so nice. I feel really welcome.” You’re glad he can’t see your face.

“Good, I’m glad. Are you comfortable over there?”

You giggle. “Yep, snug as a bug.”

He laughs too, and it’s silent for a few minutes.

“I’d hoped you’d want to share with me. My bed, I mean. Sleeping by you, it’s different than with Josh. I just like knowing here’s there. But with you, it’s more. I like to have you next to me.”

You hum. “Is it really okay for us to be doing that, though? Here, in your parents house? I know on tour you’re like a free agent or whatever, but don’t you share that bed with Lily, when she’s here? Doesn’t it feel weird to you?”

He sighs. “I’ve told you, Y/N. I need you. I don’t really have an answer to any of that, I guess I should feel weird, or guilty, or whatever. But I don’t. All I know is that you make me feel happy, and comfortable. And I know you’re only just over there, but, I miss you.”

You feel like you might be about to cry. You miss him, too. You just keep hearing Ronnie’s words on repeat: ‘don’t let yourself get in over your head.’

The problem is, you already have.

After deliberating in silence for a few minutes, you pull back your covers, quietly padding over to Jake’s bed. It’s dark, but there’s enough moonlight coming through the window that you can see his face on the pillow. He looks sleepy, but he smiles widely, and scoots over toward the wall, holding the blankets back for you.

You slide in, and the bed suddenly feels very, very small. You do your best to stay on your half, but he’s facing you, and you can feel the entirety of his front pressed against your side.

“It’s okay.” He mumbles. “The bed is small. We can cuddle.” He puts his left arm over your tummy, his right sliding under the pillow behind your head. You breathe out a deep sigh and scoot down, letting your head be level with his chest. You turn to face him, inhaling his smell, wrapping your arm around his middle, tangling your legs with his. He’s wearing a t-shirt and boxers, and you thank the heavens he didn’t decide to sleep shirtless tonight.

You finally feel yourself relax, all the stress from the day washed away now that you’re here in his arms. You belong here. You belong to Jake, all of you, especially your heart.

But, as you’re falling asleep, you have to remind yourself. He doesn’t belong to you.

Chapter 5

@ohgodthefeeling-gvf @profitofthedune @sinarainbows @klarxtr

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[velvetgoldminecherry]

*Sasori and Deidara laying in bed and wrapped in sheets, lazing on a sunday afternoon, while Sasori gently kisses all over Deidara’s freckles*

Deidara *chuckles and blushing softly*: Danna! Stop doing that, you’re tickling me!

Sasori *smiling and keep kissing Dei over and over again*: I can’t help it my love *kisses him* You are just so beautiful *kiss* That I can’t have enough of you *kiss* I love all your little freckles and your tiny nose *kiss* and your silky lips *kiss* and your stunning blue eyes

Deidara *holding Sasori’s face between his hands*: Sasori you big corny idiot, you're one to be talking about beauty, you’re just so gorgeous my man. But, why are you so obssesed with my freckles anyway?

Sasori *smiles and rubs his nose against Deidara’s*: I don’t know my love, I just think they make you look adorable, in fact I could marry them if I could

Deidara *getting closer to him*: Or you could just marry me so you can have my freckles next to you every single day of our lives

Sasori: Is that so? Well then my sunshine. Would you give me the honor to.became your husband and allow me to make you happy for the resto of our lives?

Deidara: Oh Sasori my love! Of course I wi-

Hidan *screaming and hitting the wall*: For Jashin sama's sake! This is the third time this week! You two have been married for almost ten tears you godamn homosexuals!

Sasori *picking up a poisoned kunai*: Get ready to meet your creator Hidan

[thegettingbyp2]

Hi love! I have an idea for an Anthony Bridgerton x reader fic

They are married and one day while Anthony is out she has an accident, and maybe they can’t find him and when they do it has been like 3 hours so he doesn’t really know what happened and how she is?

I Did This

‘Do you really have to leave today, my Lord,’ you whined as you rolled over in bed to rest your head on your husbands chest as you lazed about in the cool breeze that was blowing through your window on a warm Sunday morning. You were on your honeymoon in Aubrey Hall and Anthony’s brothers, Benedict and Colin, we coming to join your husband on a hunting trip.

‘I believe you’re the one who encouraged me to go and spend some time with my brothers this afternoon, my love,’ Anthony replied, humming happily as he wrapped his arm around you, holding you close to him.

‘Well you shouldn’t listen to me,’ you laughed lightly.

‘I’ll remember that for next time,’ he said, kissing the top of your head before getting out of the bed. ‘I won’t be long and when I get back, I want you waiting here in this bed for me,’ he leant down to kiss you deeply before he had to physically pry himself away from you.

After he had left, you decided that instead of wandering around the house all day, waiting for Anthony to return back home, you were going to take your horse for a ride around the grounds. You got changed into something a bit more suitable for horse-riding and headed down to the stables on your own, telling the maid that you wouldn’t need anyone with you because you weren’t planning on leaving the grounds of the house.

‘Hi, handsome,’ you said gently to your horse, running your hand lightly along his nose and giggling when you felt his nose press back against you. ‘It’s been a while hasn’t it?’

As soon as you had everything in place, you hopped on the back of the horse and slowly started to make your way over to the big field that was behind the house. When you reached the field, you finally allowed yourself to speed up slightly, laughing in delight at the feeling of the wind brushing through your hair and you vowed to yourself that you were going to come out with your horse more often; maybe you could bring Anthony sometimes.

You had been riding for a while, allowing yourself to completely relax and let the horse gallop around, only needing you to direct him every now and then, when you heard a gunshot. The loud noise spooked the horse and as he reared up onto his back legs, you felt yourself be thrown from the saddle, landing funny on your wrist and hitting your head quite hard on the solid ground; rendering you unconscious.

---

‘We’ll have to start doing this more often,’ Anthony said to Benedict with a pep in his step as the two brothers headed towards Aubrey Hall to have a drink; Colin declining the offer, preferring to get straight home.

‘That would be down to you, brother,’ Benedict replied, clapping his hand on the back of Anthony’s shoulder, causing his older brother to chuckle, ‘you are the married one now after all.’

‘Yes, and as soon as you leave, I shall head straight back to my darling wife.’

‘You seem happy,’ Benedict said simply, noticing how relaxed Anthony now seemed.

‘I am. For the first time, I think that I am truly happy.’

The two brothers walked through the doors to Aubrey Hall and immediately noticed the sombre tone from the butler who was waiting for them.

‘Is everything okay?’ Anthony asked the butler as he shrugged his jacket off, handing it to the butler who had his hand out, waiting to take the jacket.

‘Lord Bridgerton, while you were out, Lady Bridgerton was brought back to the house injured and unconscious. She hasn’t woken up yet.’

‘What do you mean? She wasn’t going anywhere, what happened, where is she now?’ Anthony asked, panic seeping into his voice.

‘She is resting in your bed chambers, my Lord, the doctor is still with her. He wanted to wait until you returned so he could tell you what happened.’

Anthony bolted to the stairs, taking them two at a time as he raced to get to you as quickly as he could, Benedict hot on his heels. Both brothers crashed into the room and Anthony felt his breath catch in his throat as he saw your body, looking so small, lying in the centre of your shared bed, your wrist wrapped tightly and a faint stain of blood on the pillow beneath your head.

‘What happened?’ Anthony asked lowly, staggering over to sit on the edge of the bed, gently taking your hand that wasn’t bandaged in both of his, staring down at you.

‘One of the grounds gardeners brought her back to the house earlier this afternoon, claiming that he found her unconscious and bleeding on the ground. He said that he saw Lady Bridgerton riding her horse when a gunshot sounded, spooking the horse which caused him to throw the Viscountess off; they’re out looking for the horse as we speak, Lord Bridgerton.’

‘Will she be okay? When will she wake up?’ Anthony asked, his skin whiter than a sheet, not taking his eyes off of you.

‘She should make a full recovery with bed rest. As for waking up, I’m afraid that it’s hard to say, she could wake up later today or she could wake up weeks from now, possibly-’

‘Thank you,’ Anthony interrupted, knowing how that sentence was going to end and not wanting to hear it. He couldn’t think about the fact there was a possibility that you wouldn’t wake up. The doctor quietly excused himself from the room after informing Benedict to call upon him if your conditioned worsened, knowing that anything he said to Anthony, he wouldn’t remember in that moment.

The door closed and Anthony let out a shaky breath, his head lowered. ‘I did this,’ he said brokenly, tears starting to fall from his eyes.

‘How on earth did you come to that conclusion?’ Benedict asked, lowering himself into the seat by your bed, looking at his brother.

‘He said it was a gunshot that spooked the horse and we were the only ones shooting on the ground. I didn’t think she was going to leave the house while we were out, she said she was going to the library or I would have arranged for us to go elsewhere.’

‘Exactly. The doctor said a gunshot, not your gunshot brother. For all we know, the gun could have been from somewhere outside the grounds of this house, you can’t blame yourself for this.’

Anthony laughed coldly. ‘I made a promise to her that I wouldn’t let anything happen to her; it was a part of my vow to her on our wedding day. Just this morning, she asked me not to leave, if I’d have known-’

‘Anthony, you can’t protect her every hour of everyday, it’s impossible. You love her and she knows this, that’s enough, brother.’ Benedict said softly, standing up and placing a comforting hand on his older brother’s shoulder. ‘I’ll head downstairs and give you two a moment.’ He said before leaving the room.

 Now he was alone in the room with you, Anthony allowed his tears to fall more freely, lifting your hand to his lips and placing a soft kiss to the inside of your palm, holding your hand against his cheek. ‘I’m so sorry, my love. I love you,’ was all he managed to utter before moved to sit in the chair, placing his elbows on the mattress, your hand still encased in both of his, as he prepared to sit with you, wanting to be there when you woke up.

[mxlfoydraco]

For you ask game ✨: all for Draco!! 1, 4, 8, 9, 10, 33, 37 and 44

1. Canon I outright reject

That he married a woman. Yeah right lmao.

4. Favorite line

‘… everyone thinks he’s so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick –’
‘You have told me this at least a dozen times already,’ <3

8. Unpopular opinion about them

Draco wasn’t forced into being a death eater, he did want to become one. It was his parents who didn’t want him to.

9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character

Robe scene robe scene robe scene. He’s already such a snotty little peacock completely unaware of how tactless he is I adore him.

10. Best moment on screen (or in the book)

Ooh, listen I love how symbolic the white birb scene is in the HBP movie. The manor scene though…. Fiendfyre…. Sectumsempra… I’m fueled and fed….

33. Something guaranteed to make them cry

Scorpius. Draco will cry when he cries, when he laughs, because he’s cute, because he said papa, because fell asleep sitting up, because he’s just… existing? Just there?

37. What they really think about themselves

He’s the perfect narcissist. He’s simultaneously the best and the worst, but he’s also the best at being the worst.

44. Their happiest memory

It’s probably a really unassuming day. It’s a sunny sunday, he wakes up wrapped around Harry. They laze around in bed until afternoon, having soft slow sex. Then have a jam filled brunch. Draco does his crosswords while Harry fusses with his plants, he calls out to Harry when he gets stuck and plays with his ring as they go back and forth trying to guess the answer. They have nowhere to go and nothing to do. For a second he stops and thinks, this is my life. This is our life. He smiles and puts in the word Gulping Plimpies bc he wouldn’t have known that if it wasn’t for Harry’s hangouts w Luna.

Random Character Asks

[allthe-queens-men]

okay so here are my anato opinions

under the cut for people who don't want negative takes

“Bohemian Rhapsody”

Perfect song. No notes.

Is probably actually the greatest song of all time.

“’39”

Nearly perfect song.

My only quibble is that Brian’s voice isn’t strong enough to cut through the music (on the verses in particular), but I think even this was fixed a bit on the remaster.

“Seaside Rendezvous”

This one is just fun. This sounds like probably the most fun they had on the album.

The “instrumental” section in the middle is especially a delight.

“You’re My Best Friend”

A really sweet song, definitely one of Queen’s better love songs.

The keyboard sound is really not very good and is the one bad mark on this song for me.

A little played out for me personally, would probably rank higher if I hadn’t heard it so many times.

“Death on Two Legs (Dedicated to…)”

I always want to like this song better than I actually do.

“You’ve taken all my money” is one of the most iconic moments in a Queen song, period.

There are some other really great lines in here.

And then there are some schoolyard taunts that are so lame they immediately take me out.

Could’ve done with another rewrite, get some better insults in there than “bad guy.”

(Also parts of the song sound weirdly off-beat? And it’s not the only one on this album either)

“I’m in Love with My Car”

Underwhelming when I’m used to the live performance.

Without getting to watch/hear Roger going beast mode all I have left are the stupid stupid lyrics.

The bane of the Roger Canon.

Still slaps though.

“Sweet Lady”

What a mid song.

The hook is actually really good though.

This is another song that sounds off-beat.

A prime example of what I’m gonna call the Brian Plod.

I still actually like it well enough not to skip, which is more than I can say about some of the others.

“Good Company”

The lesser of the Brian vocals on the album.

Very upbeat and can be fun in the right mood but kind of a slog to get through.

“Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon”

This song reminds me of Spongebob.

“Love of My Life”

I tried to remove it from all the context surrounding this song and especially how it was included in Bor Hap but I still don’t like it very much.

Not a big fan of Queen ballads in general.

Rhyme scheme pisses me off lol.

“God Save the Queen”

It’s an instrumental. It’s a decent instrumental, maybe even pretty good. I associate it with their concerts so that’s probably bumping it up.

“The Prophet’s Song”

I have almost nothing good to say about this song.

The lyrics are okay when they’re actually happening.

Absolutely should’ve ended at 3:30 but unfortunately there’s another 5 minutes after that.

The middle echoing section is nothing to me. It is absolutely vacuous when it isn’t unpleasant to listen to.

Sounds like Brian was tasked with/trying to write his own “Bohemian Rhapsody” and it didn’t work.

Also sounds like it could come off their first album which probably shouldn’t be happening on your fourth album.

General

I think this album has some really fantastic songs, some okay songs, and one just really not good song, and none of them go together. It’s the lack of cohesion that ruins it for me. I get nothing out of listening to this album all the way through, and for me that’s what makes it subpar as an album.

[askwhatsforlunch]

Pistachio Ice Cream

I’ve indulged in quite a bit of frozen treats in this long hot Summer, happily tucking into Pineapple Frozen Yoghurt or, licking a spoonful of Basil Apricot Sorbet or Rose Ice Cream. But so far, I had managed without the ice cream maker. Until this weekend, where I thought of putting the bowl in the freezer. A momentous occasion, so it called for something a bit more fanciful than Vanilla Ice Cream (although I do love Vanilla Ice Cream!) Thus, I made Pistachio Ice Cream. I don’t often eat it; there are far too many tempting things at the ice cream parlour for me to pick it. Mum would though, as she is quite fond of it. And I reckon she would be quite fond of this one, too! So, I shall be lazing the sunny afternoon, eating my Pistachio Ice Cream and thinking of her! Happy Sunday!

Ingredients (makes about 1 pound):

1/2 cup shelled, unsalted pistachios

¾ cup double cream

¾ cup semi-skimmed milk

1 plump vanilla bean, split lengthwise

3 large egg yolks

¼ cup caster sugar

1 tablespoon white rum

2 tablespoons shelled pistachios

1/3 cup double cream

1 tablespoon white rum

In a large frying pan, toast pistachios over medium-high heat until just fragrant. Remove from the heat and let cool completely. 

Once cooled, spoon toasted pistachios into a food processor, and blitz until reduced into a powder, the consistency of coarse meal. Set aside.

In a medium saucepan, combine double cream and milk. Scrape seeds off the vanilla bean, and add both seeds and empty pod into the milk mixture. Bring to a simmer over medium heat.

Meanwhile, energetically whisk egg yolks with caster sugar until pale yellow and the mixture falls from the whisk like a ribbon. Gently pour a bit of the hot milk and cream mixture over the eggs yolks, whisking constantly. While still whisking, add the rest of the milk, until well-blended. Pour mixture back into the saucepan, and return over medium heat. Stir constantly with a wooden spoon until custard thickens, about 3 to 5 minutes. Remove from heat, and stir in white rum, mixing well. Then, thoroughly stir in pistachio powder.

Pour pistachio custard into a bowl, and cover with cling film directly on the custard to prevent a skin from forming. Chill in the refrigerator, at least three hours to overnight.

In a small frying pan, toast pistachios over medium-high heat until just fragrant. Remove from the heat and let cool completely.

Once pistachio custard is well chilled, pour cold double cream in a bowl and beat with an electric beater, increasingly increasing speed, until soft peaks form.

Gently fold whipped cream into pistachio custard, to loosen it. Fold in rum as well.

Pour mixture in the bowl of an ice cream maker and follow manufacturer’s instructions. Churning should take about 25 to 40 minutes.

Roaghly chop toasted pictachios.

Spoon Pistachio Ice Cream in an airtight container, sprinkling with chopped pistachios. Store in the freezer a couple of hours before eating.

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Dang...

So July.

A definite crescendo of a month. Especially for one that starts off with explosions.

One month after moving back to the house after four years living on the Hill, it turns out the correct answer was...

Moving back to the house.

What can I say?

The reasons that made the choice such a difficult one not even two months ago... weren't so tough to navigate after all. Especially the commute side of the equation. It actually does work better than we would've guessed. Plus... the house is super chill, very quiet. Which makes sense since I-5 doesn't run right in front of it. Plus, though the remodeling of the house wasn't actually intended for us, it sure makes the house more optimized for what we do and want.

So yeah. A great call.

July fifth was our dating anniversary, the date of our establishing being July 5, 1990. Kind of a while ago. We lazed the morning. Went to see Indiana Jones & the Dial of Destiny at the Crest Theater, hit the Ballard GoodWill for some random browsing, derailed a trip to Trader Joe's by going to PCC across the street instead for orange creamsicles we subsequently enjoyed on the roof. Had a picnic on the shores of Smith Cove in front of Expedia. Did a walkabout of the Seattle Center for old time's sake. Finished off at Tapster on South Lake Union all—

On a sunny summer's day.

It was a fantastic dating anniversary.

Moving through the month, the next big event was this year's 48 Hour Film Project competition with the Combat Wombats, the production team that was kind enough to invite me to be a Wombat a coupla years ago for their short film, "Cleaners". This year's effort, "PTAgent" was, yes, hard work and a delight for all of us. It also feels like we're getting better at this having begun the journey at a high level to begin with.

By the way, the 48 Hour weekend was also proof of something Kimmer created: my edit suite. This was basically the shakedown cruise for using the room as intended, including the space for clients.

Initially I was thinking the overstuffed couch should be replaced with something a more sleek. That is... until Saturday night and Sunday during the day when the weary director and producer of "PTAgent" put its overstuffed comfort to good use.

The end of the 48 Hour extravaganza always features a dinner out with Kimmer. It's a tradition we didn't know was gonna be a tradition... but a tradition we started with my first 48 Hour Film Project editing "Cleaners", an experience that kept me up that particular Saturday night until 5AM Sunday morning and then up again by 9... four hours later. I think I finished with the edit around 4 that afternoon? At which point Kimmer offers dinner at Maggie Bluffs, our first such celebratory dinner with this year's, our fourth, at Las Brisas in Edmonds. ☺️☺️☺️

The reward for our 48 Hour experience, of course, was the opportunity to watch our work on the big screen at the Uptown Cinema in lower Queen Ann where, once upon a time as a youngster, I watched Young Sherlock Holmes.

Moving on, the second half of the month was definitely the most incredibly packed half. 

So the 48 Hour Film Project competition began the evening of Friday, July 14 ending on the evening of July 16. Four days later, Thursday the 20th, Kimmer 'n I drive up to the neighborhood behind the Grand Avenue Park Bridge, park our car, and walk down to the Everett Marina where Linzy's performing with the band The Little Lies.

Two days after that, Saturday, middle of the day, we join the band again at their Bite of Seattle performance that's taking place on one of the busiest weekends in Seattle history including but not limited to a Mariners game, the Capitol Hill Block Party, various cruise ship departures, and a Taylor Swift at Lumen Field mega concert. All of which conspired to bring everyone into the heart of Seattle.

Every place in the city was packed, is all I'm saying.

Same deal the next day, Sunday the 23rd, when we return to the Bite to see another band of which Linzy's a member: Midnight High (more on that band in a moment).

The Midnight High performance was around 1 in the afternoon after which we went back to the house as Linzy went on to that evening's Taylor Swift concert which, according to everyone, was a VERY big deal. Certainly for Linzy who basically grew up as a musician with Taylor's career. 🤩🤩🤩

Now, while all these shows were happening, as the world premiere of the film I cut approached, Kimmer was also up to her eyeballs... having officially applied to a doctorate program at her alma mater. And, by the time the screening happened, she was officially accepted.

HUZZAH!!!!!! 😁😁😁

And the doctorate program?

Doctor of Science in Integrative Health from the American College of Healthcare Sciences.

So there it is.

We all three were having a very busy week.

A coupla evenings later, Tuesday the 25th, I'm prefunctioning at the home of the Combat Wombats' director as most of the team gathers for pizza oven cooked pizza and drinks and talking shop and talking life… before heading to the Uptown Cinema for the world premiere of "PTAgent" on the big screen. By the time I get home, it's already a half hour into Sunday the 26th, the morning on which we're leaving for southern California to visit family and check in on Kimmer's aunt. At this point, we've gotta be out the door in six hours but manage to eat one of those hours watching an episode of Madame Secretary, a series that's turned out to be a big deal for us this summer after we blitzed through the eight episode season one of The Diplomat four times in a row.

Yeah. We desperately needed another show to watch.

So credits roll on Madam Secretary and now it's a little after 130AM. The way things work out, we'll be up three and a half hours later at 5AM, ready and on the road to the airport by 640AM, in the air by 8, and so on.

Which pretty much explains how tired we were the rest of the day.

Our California family's family, though, which means they give us a huuuuge shot of energy for four solid days of taking our home life on the road, an essential part of which is about seeing Kimmer's aunt who lives in a memory care community.

By the time we're home again, we're into the first minutes of Sunday the 30th, a day that we figured will be a normal-ish, chores-ish day that suddenly turns into the world premiere of Linzy's music on the radio.

One of the bands in which she performs harmonies and keys, you see, is called Midnight High, their latest gig being that one at the Bite of Seattle. And Sunday evening, our day back from California, they're on the Locals Only show on KNDD-FM 107.7 The End. They're promoting their new album, "Swimming Lessons", showcasing a few songs from that album and sharing some of their favorite music including "I Don't Wanna Know" from Linzy's debut Dream Patrol project EP titled "Made For TV".

Dang.

That made for a very "That Thing You Do" moment for us at home and for Linzy over at her place.

And yup.

After a crazy busy July, that's seven months down.

Five to go.

🤔🤔🤔

[lindsaystravelblogs3]

Days 16-18 – Saturday-Monday, 10-12 June - End of Tour and On to Sicily

Saturday

It was supposed to be a ‘MyTime’ day today but people were being encouraged to take the train to L’ile Rousse, a pretty village in the hills behind Calvi.  We decided not to go – we needed a quiet day and a chance to catch up a little with our blogs.  In the end, nobody took the train, but most people went on our coach.  It was really just a three-hour trip up and back with time for lunch and a few photos – none of which we felt obliged to enjoy.

We deliberately slept late and did a few puzzles together before going down the brekky.  We have hardly done any puzzles this trip because most mornings, we have had to have breakfast and get on the coach instead of lazing around in bed.

We had to repack everything so we could move on tomorrow – the last day of this tour – but we also wrote a lot for our respective blogs during the day.  We went out for a while around lunchtime because I have mislaid the USB connector for my wireless mouse and we wanted to buy another one.  I am sure it will turn up, but working without a mouse was just getting too frustrating.  We were told to go to the supermarket around the corner where they sell everything – and they really do.  It was a huge place, and I got my new mouse as well as a few extra nibbles to go with our lunch.

A lot of our crowd went into the pool after they returned to the hotel and we have seen them from our window that overlooks the pool – a very pleasant outlook, even without the pool.  We all met in the lobby at 7pm to walk the six minutes to the restaurant where we were all having dinner.  The 'six minutes' was important because our leader had been teased about everything being just ten minutes away.  He had Googled it and Mr Google said it would take six minutes to walk to the restaurant.  After six minutes, I called out ‘Stop – we must be here now’.  Alas, only another seven and a half minutes to go!

The meal was quite good, but they applied a rigorous limit to us of two drinks each – so we bought a bottle and shared it wit those nearest to us.  The table behind us simply walked up to where the wine was stored and took bottle after bottle as a means of topping up their quota.  Some people have no conscience and Aussies bad manners sometimes embarrass the shit out of me.

Sunday

We left the hotel at 8.30 – or would have, except that our leader was late – so make that 8.40am.    A few of our group were either staying on in Calvi for a few more days, or flying out later in the afternoon, but about twenty of us boarded the coach and off we went.  The others stood about and waved us all goodbye. 

It was quite a scenic drive to Bastia where we were to catch our ferry to Livorno. We detoured via the Bastia airport to shed a few more of our group and drove through town to the ferry terminal.  What a schemozzle!  The whole ferry experience was a nightmare.

We were there before 10.30 but the terminal didn’t open until noon – except that it was doing a brisk business before 11.30.  Boarding time was 1pm – except that the Security line didn’t open until 1.15 and absolutely everything had to go through the X-ray machine.  Needless to say, the X-ray picked up our tiny picnic knife, so we had to unpack that whole big bag and show it to the stupid kid who obviously imagined we intended using it to hijack the ship.  Once she saw it – and the scissors and other implements far more dangerous than the little knife – she said everything was OK, and left us to repack our bags.  I think I may have made to odd comment on the absurdity of the security process on a couple of previous occasions – but this one was even worse than the airports.  Others of our group experienced similar frustrations. All the Security staff we encounter seem to belong to a class of their own - Moron Class.

We eventually walked out to a huge asphalt paddock with no signage to indicate how to board the ship, but we found a porter who pointed us to a yellow band painted on the ground and said that was the pedestrian walkway.  We followed that for a couple of hundred metres until we were shouted at to tell us we were on the wrong yellow line – we were supposed to be on the parallel one two metres to our left.  We quickly changed lanes and twenty metres further along, that one merged with the one we had already been on.  Little minds abusing the little bit of power they have to make it as difficult as they can for we poor tourists.

Of course, we are lugging all of our luggage – no trolleys are provided.  Is there a lift, sir?  Just along the side of the bulkhead!  Unfortunately, it was locked, but there are stairs – only seven floors up to Reception!  We eventually found someone else to ask and he arranged for the lift to be unlocked.  A maximum of six people were allowed in the tiny box and with our luggage, there was really no room for our feet so I sat on our cases.  Then the lift wouldn’t work.  It took about ten minutes before another guy told us that one of the bags was blocking a hidden sensor.  Once that was remedied, we were delivered to Reception on Level Seven.  There we were given our reserved seat numbers and told the seats were on the next level up on the left.  Unfortunately, there is no lift!  We lugged our stuff up the stairs but there are no seats anywhere – we were just faced with three ‘do not enter’ doors.  I went back to Reception to be rough-handled by the French crowd and screamed at by the guy at Reception – ‘No English, no English – one stair up and then left – one up, left!!!’  In the meantime, Heather had been guarding our bags on the landing one stair up and discovered that ‘one’ apparently means ‘two’ in French.  We trudged up another flight of steps behind one of the Do Not Enter doors to an area of two hundred seats of which thirteen had been reserved for those of us who had paid for reserved seating.  For most of the trip, twenty-odd blocks of four seats were occupied by snoring sleepers who had not paid extra to be there.  No skin off our nose, but the whole show really was Mickey Mouse stuff.  I washed my hands in the Gents toilet – two of the three cubicles were out of order, as were both the hand-dryers.  When they made the announcement about what to do in the unlikely event of us sinking, I really started to get concerned.  There are no dogs allowed in the reserved seating area, but the noise from the dozens barking two decks below us is loud and incessant.  And people (lots of them) smoke and vape anywhere and everywhere over here and just flick their butts anywhere – it doesn’t really bother me, but it is so different from the very restrictive (some might say, civilised?) requirements in Australia.

The whole experience was awful.  The ship was filthy, there were crowds everywhere, the bar was closed 15 minutes into the trip, nothing worked as it should – maybe that is just Italy in a nutshell, but we were really glad to get off the ship after standing around for an hour, waiting for all the vehicles to be unloaded so the pedestrians could disembark.

We shared a cab with another couple from our group who were staying at the same hotel but when we came to check in, there was no record of our reservation.  They looked under both our surnames and Christian names but found nothing.  We showed him all the paperwork, proving the reservation and that we had paid for it in full.   The concierge was just so helpful and apologetic, and he was very diligent in his searches but the upshot was that, after close to an hour of searching, we had to pay full price again.  At least, there were plenty of rooms and he gave us an upgrade for our troubles.

The other couple from our group were going out as we were making payment and they said that the rooms were microscopic – but ours was more than comfortable with a great outside terrace overlooking the river.  Heather had almost finished an email to our travel agent explaining the situation when the phone rang.  The concierge had found our reservation and payment, and could we please come back to Reception so he could process an immediate refund.  The booking had been made in the name of Heather Wheat - but somewhere along the way, they think a computer translated it to Erica (the botanical genus for heather) Grano (Italian for wheat).  The booking was located under Erica Grano’s name!!  Can you believe that?  I wonder what the computer would have made of Lindsay Doig?

After sorting all of that out, we went to a little openair cafe around the corner.  It was almost 9pm, but a beautiful balmy night, quiet except for the nearby traffic, with a gentle breeze and owner-staff who couldn’t do enough to ensure we had an enjoyable time.  I ordered a seafood crepe and Heather had pasta.  The servings were sensible, an ideal quantity for us, and my crepe was absolutely delicious.   We had a couple of drinks each and when they found that we were Aussies, it was like a family reunion – the owner had visited Brisbane several years ago and welcomed us with great enthusiasm.  We also enjoyed a delicious complementary Limoncello each and sat over our meal for well over an hour.  It was quite delightful and we both loved it.  Then it was bed, deep sleep and numerous night-cramps for both of us.

Monday

Today was really quite enjoyable with somewhat less time pressures and nobody else to consider.   Despite our fatigue after yesterday, we were up around 7am and down to breakfast soon after.  The other couple from our previous tour had an early train to catch so we never saw them.

Our driver for the trip from Livorno to Florence arrived a few minutes early, but we were already sitting outside the door in a shady, flowery portico, so we loaded up and set off for our first stop at the Vespa Museum (more properly, the Piaggio Museum) in Pontedera.  I had no expectations of the museum, and felt that allowing a full hour to look at a few old scooters was overkill, but when we got there, we found that it was closed anyway.   Monday it is closed every week and today is Monday.  The manager saw us at the door and came over to us and explained the situation with many apologies.  We weren’t too fussed, but our driver told him that we had a booked tour and that we had come all the way from Australia just to see it.   ‘Australia! he said, come right in’ - and we were left to our own devices to explore at will - and without paying for tickets.  We did and it was FABULOUS!

They must have close to a thousand items on display, including racing bikes (Vespa’s first foray into road racing was on the day Heather was born!!), artistically decorated bikes, touring bikes - one with an Aussie flag attached and one painted to honour a spell in Townsville - and all sorts of amazing special purpose bikes.   One room was devoted to the first ever motor bikes built by a Mr Gilera in the 1890s, but all the rest were Vespas.  A fire truck, racing bikes, one used in a movie as a bike, helicopter and submarine, one of six hundred used in the desert by the French Foreign Legion (equipped with a rocket launcher and a couple of bundles of rockets), a tram, a mobile bookshop, ornate tuk-tuks - you name it - Vespas have done it – even marine and aircraft engineering.  It was amazing and we really needed at least an extra couple of hours to take it all in.  A few other people saw us in there through the window and wanted us to unlock he place so they could get in, but we tried to hide to avoid anyone else getting cranky when they were locked out while we had the run of the place.   It was a fantastic hour and a huge privilege, and we thanked the manager profusely.

A tram guarding the Museum entrance, a few Vespas in the massive display, and a 'Bike Rack".

Next stop was Lucca, a very old town surrounded by the usual elaborate fortifications and a high wall all around.  The town now spreads out around the fortified area, but we had a couple of hours to wander on our own.  Our driver gave us a map and told us a couple of places to go, one being a large ‘round square’ with lots of shops and restaurants.  

The round 'Square' and a nearby tower featuring both round and square architecture.

We checked it out, but it was crowded, noisy and hot, so we wandered back through the maze of tiny twisting lanes and came upon a church with a photographic display that was pretty special.   One of the photos is a well-known one that has featured on the cover of National Geographic, but they were nearly all great portraits.  We spoke to the photographer who was busy selling prints and it turns out that he was born in Lucca and still lives there.  He wants to photograph in the Amazon but can’t afford the fare.   He was a bit jealous that we had been there so recently.

The famous photo (on the right). The figure on the left might be just as famous to some viewers.

We had a light lunch, very enjoyable with a long cold one, at a shady quiet café, just across the road from where we were to meet our driver, and timing was perfect.  She drove up just as we were crossing the road to meet her.

Then it was on to the Florence airport.  We had a bit of a wait, but we were the third to check in and security was a five-minute breeze - the easiest and best I have encountered for at least the past twenty-five years!  Of course, not everything can go to plan and boarding was delayed by more than an hour.  Not sure quite why, but it seems that they needed to board two people in wheelchairs but could only find one chair.  Despite that, we boarded surprisingly quickly, and take-off was only delayed about thirty minutes.

It was actually quite a fast day for us slow Aussies.  Our driver seemed to be a quite competent driver, zipping in and out of traffic fairly smoothly, if a little faster than altogether necessary.  But then we got out on the Autostrada and her foot went down.  There were short sections where the speed limit was 40, 50, 80 or 110 kph and she sometimes slowed to 140 in those areas.  I could see the digital speed display on the GPS on the dashboard and although I wasn’t watching it all the time, it was displaying 150-plus much of the time and touched at least 166 on several occasions.  Then despite boarding our flight more than an hour late, we were only about ten minutes late landing, so maybe there was some extra speed there, although we were not aware of it.  And then, when we arrived in Palermo, we were met by our hotel transfer driver in a Porsche and our trip to the city had him driving at 150-plus for most of the trip.  We never felt in danger at any time, but people seem completely at ease with much higher speeds here - and even at those speeds, plenty of other cars were passing us.

We checked in at our hotel and did a minimum of organising ourselves before going out for something to eat at 10.45pm.  The hotel told us how to get to a bar a kilometre away because everything else was closed.  Luckily, we found a takeaway place halfway there and bought some hot fried things back to our room for ‘supper’ – more than we could eat and very rich with an oversupply of cheese, as seems common over here.  Then bed at last a bit before 1am!

[supervillain-penpal]

My First Penpal Mix

Pretty excited. I think it came out good! Tried to keep it upbeat. How did I do?

SIDE ONE

"Hurry, Hurry" by Air Traffic Controller

"Necromancin Dancin" by Bear Ghost

"Eat You" by Caravan of Thieves

"Higher Grounds" by Cats on Fire

"The Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth" by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

"i wanna bite your face" by Eve 6

"We're From Barcelona" by I'm From Barcelona

"Crayola Doesn't Make A Color For Your Eyes" by Kristin Andreassen

"Fuck You" by Lily Allen

"i think i wanna be alone" by mazie

SIDE TWO

"Summertime" by My Chemical Romance

"The Days Go By Oh So Slow" by Nightmare Of You

"Only In The Movies" by Plumtree

"What, Me Worry?" by Portugal. The Man

"Love My Way" by The Psychedelic Furs

"Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon" by Queen

"Let's B Goblins!" by Ratwyfe

"CHICKEN TERIAKI" by ROSALIA

"How Can I Love You If You Won't Lie Down" by Silver Jews

"My Leather, My Fur, My Nails" by Stepdad

[beevean]

Katawa Shoujo

Ease