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musicforastylesrestaurant · 1 year

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The Pumpkin Patch.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here, huns!

authors note - in honour of finally approaching october, enjoy this little mess that my brain magically comes up with when i’m bored…and lhh as a dad because that is simply girl dinner.

word count - 2k

in which, you and harry decide to take your son teddy to the pumpkin patch in honour of it finally hitting october, the three of you decide to make a day of things, and let’s just say the day doesn’t exactly turn out how you all expected it, a series of unfortunate events occur and that all starts out with your fiancé getting annoyed that the sat nav isn’t helping him very much.

trope: fiancé!harry x reader

October holds a special place in your heart, like no other month ever could. It was the month when you first embarked on a life-changing journey, leaving your homeland to pursue higher education in the United States. It was a time of excitement and trepidation, but little did you know that it would mark the beginning of countless beautiful memories.

During those university years, October became a symbol of friendship and camaraderie. It was when you met your lifelong friends, people who would stand by your side through thick and thin. Together, you navigated the challenges of academia, celebrated achievements, and forged bonds that would last a lifetime.

One particular October stands out vividly in your memory. It was the month of your graduation, a momentous occasion that your family didn't want to miss. They flew out to share in your joy and celebrate your accomplishments. Their presence made the milestone even more meaningful, filling your heart with warmth and love.

But the most extraordinary chapter of your life was written in the pages of an October. It was in Los Angeles, while browsing through a record shop, that you first laid eyes on Harry Styles. The connection was instant, as if fate had brought you together. In the midst of music and conversation, your love story began to unfold.

It was in October when he first whispered those three magical words, "I love you," after a night of watching a scary movie that left you clinging to his chest, finding comfort in his embrace. That moment of vulnerability deepened your bond and solidified your love for each other.

During a serene picnic in the park, surrounded by the beauty of autumn, Harry surprised you with a question that would change your lives forever. He asked you to move in with him, a gesture that symbolized commitment and a future together.

The circle of life continued to expand in October when your son, Theodore, affectionately known as Teddy, was born. The joy of parenthood brought immeasurable happiness and completeness to your lives, and the autumn leaves seemed to dance in celebration.

And then, in an enchanting October evening, Harry knelt down on one knee and proposed to you. Under the starry sky, he presented you with a ring, promising a lifetime of love, happiness, and adventures together. Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you said yes, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

October, with its vibrant colors and meaningful milestones, had become more than just a month on the calendar; it was a testament to the beauty of life, love, and the incredible journey you had embarked upon. It was safe to say that October had etched its place as your favorite month, forever holding the key to cherished memories and boundless love.

As you, Harry, and your almost two-year-old son Teddy set out for the pumpkin patch in Harry's sleek black Range Rover, there was an air of excitement in the car. The vibrant colours of autumn and the promise of pumpkin picking had everyone in high spirits. However, it didn't take long for things to take an unexpected turn.

Teddy, safely strapped into his car seat, began to cry, his little arms reaching out for his father. Seeing as Harry had been up all night comforting his baby boy who appeared to be getting his molars growing, he had tried everything, and the only thing that seemed to help the poor boy was to be cuddled up with both parents in their bed, with a teething toy in his grasp.

So, when the two of you woke up this morning, you had decided to take everyone’s tired minds off of things and have a fun little day out, but that didn’t seem to be going the way you had originally planned.

Harry couldn't easily comfort him, as he was engrossed in a battle with the aggravating sat nav system that seemed determined to make the journey anything but smooth.

You turned round in your seat and leaned over to Teddy, offering him a soothing voice, "Hey, ted. Daddy's driving right now, but he'll be with you soon. Look out the window, see the pretty leaves?"

Harry, growing increasingly frustrated, muttered, "S’thing is driving m’nuts. S’like a maze."

Teddy's cries persisted, and you rummaged in the bag for a toy to distract him. "Teddy, how about this colourful toy? Can you play with it?"

Harry let out another exasperated sigh, his eyes fixed on the sat nav screen. "All I want is t’find that pumpkin patch."

The journey went on like that for about another ten minutes before Harry finally got the hang of where the sat nav was trying to take him, and Theodore succumbed to silent sniffles when your fiancé reached his hand back and let his son hold onto his finger like he was a newborn all over again.

Theodore Styles was born just a year into the two of you officially dating, on October 18th, 2013. You and Harry were only nineteen. Although both of you were only young, you both had support from your family and friends and even though Harry’s job was a very demanding one, he always made sure to put the two of you first, so fast forward to October 2016 you were the perfect family unit and you were one step closer to becoming a Styles just like your other two boys.

As you, Harry, and Teddy finally pulled into the sprawling pumpkin patch, a sense of excitement filled the air. The fields were covered in a sea of vibrant orange, and the prospect of a fun-filled day lay ahead.

Driving through the muddy terrain, Teddy was securely strapped into his car seat, but his little face was pressed against the window. His bright eyes were wide with curiosity, and he couldn't contain his delight as he pointed at everything in his limited vocabulary, his baby talk filling the car.

"Look, Teddy," you exclaimed with enthusiasm, "those pumpkins are huge, aren't they?"

Teddy responded with bursts of infectious laughter, his tiny finger continuing to point at the pumpkins, each one seemingly more fascinating than the last. His joy was like a contagious wave that washed over the car.

Harry, his long hair falling in front of his eyes, expertly navigated the muddy path. He drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on your thigh, occasionally glancing at Teddy's adorable antics.

"That's right, Teddy-Bear," Harry chimed in, his voice filled with affection, "those pumpkins are as big as y’are!"

The car rolled on, winding through the pumpkin-filled fields. Teddy's laughter and baby talk were a constant source of amusement, brightening the atmosphere in the car.

You couldn't help but join in the excitement. "Teddy, do you see those scarecrows over there? They're guarding the pumpkins!"

Teddy's laughter escalated as he looked at the scarecrows, his tiny hands reaching out toward them. His innocent joy made the entire journey worthwhile.

Harry put the car into park and turned to you. "Alrigh’ m’love,"

As you worked on getting Teddy out of his car seat, Harry made his way to the trunk. He looked at you, holding the baby bag, and asked, "Do y’think we'll need t’stroller?"

You considered for a moment, remembering that Teddy hadn't slept well during the night. You nodded, knowing that he might get tired later. "Yeah, H, I think it's a good idea. Just in case."

Harry nodded in agreement and began setting up the stroller while you gently unstrapped Teddy from his car seat. He wriggled out of your arms, his little welly boots and beanie adding to his adorable appearance.

With Teddy on the ground, you smiled down at him. "Look at you, ready for some pumpkin picking, little man!"

Harry, now with his hair tied into a man bun to keep it out of his face, locked up the car. He glanced at Teddy and then at you. "Alrigh’, s’make some pumpkin memories."

As the three of you approached the entrance to the patch, The stroller stood empty as Harry navigated it through the muddy pumpkin fields.

Teddy, in his infectious excitement, was far too eager to explore on his own. Instead, you held onto his tiny hands, and he practically pulled you along, his chubby legs wading through the mud, creating tiny boot imprints with each step.

The pumpkin patch sprawled before you, a vast sea of orange and green. Teddy's eyes danced with wonder as he darted from one pumpkin to another, each one seemingly more fascinating than the last. His little voice bubbled with delight, even though his words were a jumble of baby talk and giggles.

Harry manoeuvred the stroller skillfully, occasionally glancing over to check on Teddy's progress. Teddy's tiny boots splashed through puddles, his beanie bobbing atop his head as he explored this pumpkin wonderland.

You marvelled at the sheer joy radiating from your son. Holding his hands, you let him lead the way, following his excited tugs and twirls. The mud-splattered boots and the occasional stumble didn't dampen Teddy's enthusiasm in the slightest.

About fifteen minutes into your visit to the pumpkin patch, you found yourselves standing in front of a scarecrow, admiring its rustic charm. Teddy, so far, had been on a mission to pick up every pumpkin he walked by, not quite grasping the concept of a pumpkin patch and getting upset when you told him that you needed to find the perfect pumpkin before heading home.

As you were enjoying this quaint moment, a friendly woman from another family who was passing by noticed your trio. She offered with a warm smile, "Would you like a photo of the three of you by the scarecrow?"

Harry didn't hesitate for a moment. He beamed and said,

"Yes, please!" as he quickly handed the woman his phone, which was already open on the camera. He gently scooped Teddy into his arms, holding him on his hip, and then wrapped his free arm around your shoulder.

The woman skillfully captured the moment, ensuring you were all framed by the scarecrow and the vibrant pumpkin patch behind you. Teddy, still clutching a small pumpkin in his chubby hand, looked at the camera with curiosity, and his innocent smile added an extra layer of charm to the photo.

After the picture was taken, you thanked the kind stranger, and Harry, still holding Teddy, shared a grateful smile with her.

Ten minutes after Teddy's encounter with the scarecrow, the pumpkin patch adventure continued, with Teddy now running ahead of you and Harry. His tiny legs carried him with an uncontainable exuberance as he darted between pumpkins, each one a new discovery in his eyes.

You pushed the stroller, its wheels rolling through the earthy paths, while Harry walked beside you, holding your hand. Both of you watched Teddy with hearts full of fondness as he explored this autumn wonderland. His laughter was a symphony of joy, filling the air and brightening your day even more.

The pumpkin patch seemed to be Teddy's playground, a place where he could express his boundless curiosity and energy.

About five meters ahead of both you and Harry, Teddy suddenly stopped in his tracks, captivated by a rather large pumpkin. It seemed to be the biggest one he had seen so far, and his little hands eagerly reached out to try and pick it up. However, it was a challenge even for his determined efforts.

Harry and you shared a chuckle at Teddy's determined endeavour. He didn't give up, though, and instead, he called out to Harry in his adorable baby talk, "Dada, hep! Hep, Dada!"

Harry couldn't resist the plea, and with a playful grin, he made his way over to Teddy. Together, father and son wrestled with the pumpkin, their laughter filling the crisp autumn air.

While they worked on the perfect pumpkin, you put the brakes on the stroller and crouched down in front of your little boy. You asked in a sweet baby talk, "Is this the pumpkin you definitely want, Teddy?"

Teddy nodded his head vigorously, a bright smile on his face. He wrapped his little arm around your neck, expressing his delight and contentment with the choice

“S’settled then,” Harry grinned up at you, holding the pumpkin in his tattooed arms. “Fancy grabbing a coffee at the lil’hut before heading off? God knows we need it.”

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audreyscribes · 8 months

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Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:

⚡ ZEUS: God of the Sky, Thunder & Lightning, Kingship, Honor, and Justice ⚡

author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

Before you even get claimed, it’s been a wild and long event before you get to camp. Your life has already been filled with trials and misfortune, and just when you think life can’t be any harder, the curtain has been ripped from you and the monsters and terrors are jumping out at you.

So when you arrive, people already have an idea who your godly parent is or how powerful you are. The rumour mill spreads fast.

But as soon as you arrive, you are immediately claimed and your parentage is revealed. Thunder rumbles through the sky and everyone starts immediately backing away from you and looking nervously at the sky. Then they see the claim mark above you, and everyone is immediately gaping and there’s a ruckus.

Then you hear more than one person go “Of course it’s Zeus” in the most tired voice and there was a cacophony of groans.

You are swiftly brought to the Big House with the core cabin leaders, Mr. D, and Chiron who all look uncomfortable. They all make occasional glances up towards the roof, gesturing to the sky with every rumble as everyone takes turn to explain the Big Three, their pact, then the overturned pact, and the crux of the matter that this is not the first time and doubt be the last child of Zeus they’ll be seeing coming out of the woodwork; but considering the time frame of your age and when the pact was overturned…well something exactly doesn’t line up. Then you also remember or informed about Hera, the Goddess of Marriage and Zeus’ wife, and her track record reacting towards children of Zeus…mostly being a sign of infidelity. Annabeth tells you this is because Hera, being the goddess of marriage, and Zeus’ blatantly, repeated infidelity goes against her entire being, but since Zeus is a god and is above her, and won’t ever divorce him either, she usually directs her ire towards the mortal parent and the demigod in retribution.

There’s a big boom of thunder and you see Mr. D, who you later find out who he is, makes a sour face before his face goes completely red, chugs his diet coke and slams it into a puck on the table, before standing up to yell outside the window. You all watch him yell at the sky to “quiet down and not to smite them all down because of their arguing” and Mr. D grumbling about fathers and how their children get all the backlash-

Chiron and a few other campers quickly and smoothly guide you away during the commotion and you’re then led to the orientation of everything else. All the pieces come together very quickly as thunder rolls and crackles above the Big House.

You start to get trapped in your own head about being the child of Zeus, and you try not to think about the implications, and then one night when you’re lying in bed, you jump out of your bed when your door is slammed open with thunder rumbling outside.

You stare at who the person is, grabbing your temporary weapon just in case, and lo and behold, you see Thalia Grace at the doorway. She stares at you with disbelief before a grin appears, before she introduces herself boldly to you as your new sister.

As soon you were claimed, all hell broke loose; which you would think be more fitting for a child of Hades. People were running around like they were headless chickens, some had their heads in their hands, and some were staring at you like they didn’t believe you existed or were looking right up the sky with anticipation.

You had heard more than once, from more than one person, and quite frequently, the words: “Of course it’s Zeus” in various tones; mostly exasperation. You had a faint idea of why based on your knowledge of Greek mythology, and a small heavy dread began to form. Then you were brought to the Big House, given the biggest lore dump and then you were taken to one place and another.

You lay in your bunk bed, trying to wrap your brain around what just happened and tried to process it. Basically, it hadn’t been that long since the overturned Big Three pact had made, and here you were. They could only imagine how many children of Zeus were just out there and would be appearing in Camp Half Blood in utter mass, and they feared what that meant (and Hera’s wrath).

There was a crack of lighting, making you jump before you remembered you were a child of Zeus, as much how that insinuated, it brought you some comfort you were not going to die from being smite by lightning. As you closed your eyes, the door to your cabin was slammed open, shaking your utter camp and making you fly off your bed, and onto your floor.

There was a figure at the open door and you saw the silver tiara on her head, and the electric blue eyes. The moment both of your eyes made contact, there was electricity in the air and you just knew, and she knew.

“Wow, it is true” said the figure before stepping in, “Dad did really have another child-”

“Yeah….which I’m guessing I’m not going to be the last one” you said from the floor.

There was a snort, “Oh yeah, knowing our shared father? Zeus definitely didn’t leave just you. Which is why I got called back here” she said. “Do you know who I am?”

“Yeah, Thalia Grace. The others, sort of, told me about you” you explained.

“Yup that’s me. The name is Thalia Grace, daughter of Zeus, as well as Lieutenant to Lady Artemis…and also your sister” she introduced while holding out her hand to you.

You introduced yourself while you looked at her hand before clasping it. A jolt of electricity spread between you and her, causing you to look wide eyed before you two shared a grin.

“Come on,” said Thalia she hauled you up, “first thing first, you and I have a lot to talk about before inevitably, the rest of our half-siblings start appearing on our front door.”

#pjo fanfic #pjo imagine #percy jackson and the olympians imagines #pjo #pjo imagines #pjo x reader #demigod h/cs #demigod reader #demigod imagines #demigod headcanons #demigod imagine #pjo reader insert #zeus #child of zeus #children of zeus #cabin 1 #thalia grace imagine #thalia grace #zeus cabin

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puckarchives · 8 months

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i'll take care of you: l. hughes

blurb: in which luke takes care of you while on your period. / word count: 0.9k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader (WARNING: mentions of pain and blood, period cramps too, but they are minimal.)

Pain was always a sore (pun intended,) subject for you. You were resilient, and above all else, were adamant that you could take care of yourself. Even growing up, you would attack all the cuts, bruises, or even illnesses you had ever come across in stride, never letting it get you down for too long, and always putting up a tough front. In your mind, to show your pain, to show your sickness, was only a weakness.

Luke, you realized, wouldn’t stand for this attitude, and merely two hours after you had tumbled out of Luke’s grasp from where you two were laying in the couch, and sprinted to the upstairs bathroom— where, lo and behold, a red splotch stained the inside of your underwear. When you first felt the onslaught of painful cramps and the staining of your underwear and pants, you had almost fallen off of the couch, pulling Luke along with you when he actually fell off the couch in your rush to get to the bathroom.

Groaning to yourself at the fact that you were entirely unprepared for the onslaught of painful cramps you were sure to get in the next few hours, as well as the fact you were wholly unprepared because you were staying with Luke for the weekend, you are caught off guard when you heard the brisk knock at the bathroom door. Shit.

“Y/N, honey?” Luke said, a river of worry coating his voice. “Are you okay?” he asked.

You weren’t embarrassed that you were on your period— you knew it was wholly natural and you trusted Luke not to simply walk away while you were like this, so, taking a deep breath in and trying to squeeze away the pain you could feel at your abdomen, you called out to him as well.

“Sorry, bub, I just got my period. Do you mind bringing me the clean pair of underwear from my bag? It’s on the second drawer in your closet,” you called out to him.

You heard him yell back an affirmative through the door, and then the sound of retreating footsteps from the door. As you could feel the nausea rising up inside you, however, you discarded the dirtied clothes, and waited until Luke knocked once more on the door.

“Come in!” you yelled. This wasn’t the first time he had seen you in this state, and besides— he had seen more blood on the ice this season alone than what was coming out of your uterus.

Now, however, after Luke had entered the bathroom and, instead of simply leaving you to suffer on your own, had started you a warm bath and washed your hair, you came out to an empty apartment and Luke’s keys missing. Before you could feel the inklings of sadness or even frustration, however, you were overtaken with the sound of the doorknob moving around— opening to let in a rushed Luke who held up two CVS bags— filled to what you could see was Cookie Dough Ice Cream, and in the other, a pack of pads— the same ones you used, and the same brand as well. God, your boy did pay attention.

“Hi baby, had to run out ‘nd get some things for you. You feeling better?” he asked as he walked towards you, putting his free hand on the side of your head and kissing the opposite side.

You said yes, and as he led you to the couch, you felt Luke sidle up right next to you— silently unpacking the icecream and handing you one of the two spoons, as well as putting his other hand on your abdomen— splaying out the practically built-in heating pad he had, became as skinny as his hands were, they were still much larger than yours, and always warm.

Now, however, after the events of the day waned on, here you lay: in your shared bed that Luke had carried you into, a wet towel on your forehead, and the youngest Hughes boy fluttering around you— first fluffing your pillow, checking in on your cramps and giving you the Midol and Ibuprofen, and even hand feeding you the soup he had hurriedly called his mom an hour prior on how to make— a conversation you had heard as the sounds of pots banging, a few curse words, and Luke’s newly bandaged hand brought you a bowl.

Now, however, as you laid on the bed, you took in the opportunity to be pampered— to be taken care of by the boy you loved, who was taking care of you and treating you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him; he was up and fluttering around you, always making sure you were warm and comfortable, and truly just trying to take care of you.

“Hey pretty girl, you feeling better now?” he asked as he returned back to where you laid, his hands coming to rest on your forehead.

“Mhm” you only mumbled back, still caught up on the feeling of his warm hands on you, and the immense amount of love you felt for him. Not only had he rearranged the entirety of his plans to take care of you, but hadn’t complained once. He was, for a lack of better words, the best thing that have ever happened to you— something you could quickly judge based off of the way he had taken your needs into consideration, and how he kept sneaking glances at you even now— looks that were full of adoration and love, and that you hoped your own mirrored every time you looked back at him as well.

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes

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nofingjustaninchident · 3 months

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⊹ ࣪ ˖ leah’s surprise event!

༄ hello! it is really good to be here today to present my surprise event for all of you, dear people! it happens that, as some of you may know, today, first of july, is jason grace’s birthday! and, as a very proud stan of this perfect man, i am presenting you an event! i hope you enjoy!

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

ᯓᡣ𐭩 for starters…

╰┈➤ so, what is this event? this is a tribute to my favorite character in the pjo series. if he was alive to this day, he’d be entering his thirties! percy officially has the permission to call his best bro an oldie!

╰┈➤ when is it going to happen? this event is taking place during 1st to 7th of july. i’ll start posting from 8 in the morning up to 9 in the night (brazil)

╰┈➤ what are the applied rules? there aren’t much rules besides the ones that are already applied in my blog, but the ones that are different will be carefully written in this post.

usa/mexico time zones!!

los angeles - 4 am to 5 pm

chicago - 6 am to 7 pm

denver - 5 am to 6 pm

mexico - 5 am to 6 pm

ᯓᡣ𐭩 the event!

⋆.˚ i’m going to write every request of blurb and fic (preferably not headcannons) about jason grace only for a week. every request u have about other characters will be archived for next week!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 what you can request!

╰┈➤ fluff

╰┈➤ angst

╰┈➤ crack

╰┈➤ dad!jason

╰┈➤ marriage au

╰┈➤ not demigod!au

╰┈➤ male x male (i can try! won’t be perfect!)

╰┈➤ moodboards

ᯓᡣ𐭩 what you can’t request!

╰┈➤ NSFW

╰┈➤ anything related to hate speech

╰┈➤ homophobia

༄ i honestly hope you guys enjoy participating on this as much as I enjoyed creating it. it’s made with all my heart, and i really appreciate feedback and support. love you always!

taglist! (aka moots) @cinemaconrad @maybxlle @somewhereincairparavel @ebony-reine-vibes @hopelesslyromantic-shark @pumpkinbxtch @aezuria @queen-of-weird-girl-nation @sunshine-of-ur-life @gentlehue @pinkdiorluvr

#ᯓ★ all my love #jason grace #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #pjo #heroes of olympus x reader #jason grace x reader #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you

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bakuhatsufallinlove · 1 year

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Chapter 348's "Shitty Nerd" Narrator Isn't Omniscient (And It's Not Bakugou Katsuki)

So, for a good bit there we were all theorizing about what was up with the narrator of chapter 348 calling Izuku a "shitty nerd" for not recognizing Toga's feelings for him, right?

Now, in a previous post I explained the different expectations Japanese audiences tend to have for frame narratives in weekly serialized manga. I posited that this may mean that the identity of 348's third-person narrator isn't necessarily of direct importance and, as a result, may never be explicitly revealed. I maintain the validity of this observation in general, however I no longer think it is relevant to understanding Horikoshi's approach to writing.

Because I am confident I have figured out who the narrator is: Best Jeanist.

To be clear, I do not believe that Best Jeanist is the source of every third-person narration in the series so far—I have yet to go back and research earlier chapters enough to theorize about that. I believe he is specifically the frame narrator who is explaining the critical moments of the Heroes’ final battle against AFO/Shigaraki, most notably in chapters 348 and 377.

Let’s go over the supporting evidence for this reading.

Best Jeanist's speech patterns match the idiosyncrasies found in 348

Back in February, pikahlua pointed out that 348's narrator uses "de aru” (である, also conjugated as であり, de ari) and I have been thinking about this detail ever since. Early on I described 348’s narration to a friend as sounding almost like a textbook, and it is “de aru” which contributes most to that tone. It functions as a connecting verb meaning "be" or "is," but it feels uniquely literary, even a bit archaic. Due to this, I pretty readily imagined that 348 was narrated by an omniscient figure who was telling the story to us as a historical event, like it was a passage from a book on “the great Hero Deku” or something like that.

But I kept wondering if, among all the fanciful characters in MHA, there was anyone who fit the bill for this type of language. Lo and behold:

On top of Shigaraki escaping, we sustained tremendous damage. But… nevertheless, we Heroes must continue the fight with the threads of our faith utterly unrent! This is the hope of our scattered comrades, and it will be spun into a new era… Plus Ultra!

The back cover of the Japanese volumes all have in-character narration blurbs that match the speech patterns and personality of the character featured on the spine of the book. This is not replicated in the English releases, so the above translation is my own. Here, Best Jeanist uses “de aru” (highlighted in blue) for that same literary effect 348 uses. I looked through other volume covers and a few dozen chapters, and I found only a couple other uses of “de aru” in total--by Iida and a member of Spinner’s army shown in 370, neither of whom are likely candidates for 348’s narrator.

Best Jeanist in general speaks in a deliberately refined, elegant way. He uses polite speech at times and, even when talking casually, his word choices are rather serious and poetic. Notice the top orange text highlighted: 一糸の綻び (isshi no hokorobi) meaning the tear of a single thread, an evocative metaphor. Keep this and the bottom orange text in mind (散って, chitte, describing the “scattered comrades”).

Side note: Best Jeanist has used “kare” (彼, meaning "he") in canon to refer to Izuku, seen here in chapter 323:

This is less of a smoking gun than “de aru,” but the politeness of 348’s narration and the word “kare” specifically rule out Katsuki as a potential narrator, so it is worth mentioning.

Volume 31 covers chapters 296-306, with the last chapter entitled, “The Final Act Begins.” I think it is significant that Best Jeanist is the narrator on this volume cover; it may be foreshadowing for his role as the narrator for the Final Battle itself, which leads us to...

Best Jeanist's Threads of Hope

Best Jeanist's Quirk and his entire schtick are about fibers and threads. He makes this a direct metaphor for the Heroes’ struggle against the League of Villains in 292 where he says that they will stop the League by weaving "threads of hope" (一縷の希望, ichiru no kibou). He develops this metaphor further in 294, describing their victory over Gigantomachia.

He also used this kind of language in 311 and 317.

And don’t forget, he sutured Katsuki’s damaged heart back together in hopes of reviving him.

Then, we got this sequence in 377:

A faceless, elderly individual speaking about the Final Battle in the past tense. This person directly references that thin thread to describe the Heroes’ chances and their gambit against the villains.

The blue text in the top panel, which is curiously absent from the English release, says:

「舞い散る桜のように・・・」

maichiru sakura no you ni…

Like falling cherry blossoms…

The verb for “falling” here is actually two verbs joined together meaning “to fall as if dancing.” Literally, maichiru means dance-scatter. The Heroes’ gambit relies on dividing the villains, and in their efforts, they themselves are being scattered, like cherry blossoms. Remember how Best Jeanist described his comrades as scattered? The second verb here is that very same one.

The thread and snap (or cut) wording even gets brought up six chapters later by Tsukauchi:

The “hope” part is technically not present in the Japanese here, but I think official translator Caleb Cook caught on to the thematic parallel. And in my opinion, it is a pretty significant parallel.

So, with all this in mind: My bet is that Best Jeanist is the primary narrator for the final arc of the series.

This is a very interesting choice; it definitely raises questions about whether All Might survives. Best Jeanist is currently in his late 30s, so for him to be the elderly narrator seen in 377, he would have to be relaying these events from 30-40 years in the future, which might mean All Might survives the final battle but dies of old age later.

Whatever happens in the battle against AFO/Shigaraki, I think both Best Jeanist and Katsuki survive. Sometime post-battle, everyone gets the explanation for what happened when Izuku was warped away by Toga, and Katsuki—hearing that Izuku didn’t recognize Toga’s feelings for him—utters some iteration of 348’s infamous line about how, no matter what he does, he is still "a shitty nerd.”

Best Jeanist quotes him in 348’s narration, because... well, even though it is vulgar, it is a pretty accurate and even affectionate description of Izuku’s oblivious nature from his childhood friend, who knows him quite well. I think Best Jeanist, having mentored and watched over Katsuki all this time, deferred to him on the subject of Izuku’s personal life.

But he also did it because it’s funny as hell, and we should never forget that MHA is a comedy.

#translations #meta #mha manga spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #final battle predictions #mha 348 #mha 377 #more bkdk adjacent #due to different readings of 348

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bitchinbarzal · 1 year

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Not Just Friends | Cole x Bestfriend!Reader

quick blurb for my Cole anon! it’s short I’m sorry and it’s not as angsty as I hoped I had to rewrite it

After the weekend away in Oregon, Cole was on cloud nine.

You had spent the entire weekend wrapped up within one another, cuddling ans mumbling sweet nothings to another another.

So why now was cole seething after you’d just introduced him as your friend.

After Oregon you’d both flown to Los Angeles for Trevor’s girlfriends birthday party. The party was huge, with her being in the influencer space the party was filled with people who cared more about logo’s than anything else.

You’d attended a few events with her friends before by Trevor’s request and always found it very humorous when they would start bragging about how much money they had to the likes of Jack or Cole only for someone to humble them very quickly.

These parties were also always attended by people who cared too much about what they looked like, always trying to be the hottest person in the room.

That’s why Cole was currently sulking in the kitchen of the house after you’d just introduced him as your friend to one of the guests

He was feeling insecure

You’d gone to find him not long later, finally catching him in the backyard.

“What’re you doing out here? It’s freezing!”

He looked up at you “What’re you doing? Shouldn’t you be inside”

“You left” You shrug, sitting next to him.

“Yeah because you were talking to that guy”

You smirk at his tone “Someone jealous, coley?”

He rolls his eyes, not that you can see and grumbles “I’m not jealous, I just think it’s shitty you introduced me as your friend”

“We are friends!”

“We are not just friends and you know it!” He retaliates.

You sigh “Cole… what’s going on?”

“You called me your friend” he mumbles “and we’re not just friends”

You look at him “Well what are we then?”

“You’re my… well you’re my girlfriend”

“You never asked me that” you reply curtly “I don’t recall this conversation”

Cole runs his hand down his face “I’ve been calling you my girlfriend since Oregon”

You stifle a laugh “Ask me”

“What?”

You poke his arm jokingly “ask me”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

You hum for a moment as a joke to which he gently smacks your arm “Ok yes! Now let’s get inside so I can reintroduce you as my boyfriend!”

#Cole x best friend au

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justinspoliticalcorner · 4 months

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Jason Wilson at The Guardian:

A Guardian investigation has identified former University of California, Irvine (UCI) lecturer Jonathan Keeperman as the man behind the prominent “new right” publishing house Passage Press and the influential Twitter persona Lomez. The identification is based on company and property records, source interviews and open-source online materials. The reporting has revealed that Keeperman’s current status as a key player and influential tastemaker in a burgeoning proto-fascist movement came after years of involvement in far-right internet forums.

Much of that journey coincided with his time at one of the country’s most well-regarded writing programs: Keeperman first came to UCI as a master of fine arts (MFA) student, and was also a lecturer in the English department from 2013 to 2022, according to public records. The emergence of Passage Press and other such publishers has been a key part of the development of a swathe of the current American far right, which is seeking to capture US institutions – or develop far-right equivalents – as part of a political and cultural war against what it sees as the dominance of a liberal “regime” in America. In a June 2023 podcast interview, Keeperman characterized Passage Press and its literary prize as part of this effort to “build out alternative infrastructure, alternative institutions”.

It is a fight wholeheartedly embraced by Donald Trump and his supporters in the Republican party, especially in their railing against “the deep state” and promises of retribution should Trump win the 2024 presidential election. The Guardian repeatedly contacted Keeperman requesting comment on this reporting, at a personal Gmail address and a Passage Press address, and left a voicemail message at a telephone number that data brokers listed as belonging to Keeperman, but which carried a message identifying it as belonging to a member of his household.

[...]

Scary ideas – and wanting to be recognized

Passage Press books include a Tucker Carlson-blurbed anthology of writings by “human biodiversity” influencer Steve Sailer; a similar retrospective from “neo-reactionary” guru Curtis Yarvin; and a print version of the biannual Man’s World. Like many other far-right publishers, Passage’s list is bolstered by reprints of out-of-print or public-domain books by historical fascist and reactionary writers. These include books by radical German nationalist and militarist Ernst Jünger; Peter Kemp, who fought as a volunteer in Franco’s army during the Spanish civil war; and two counter-revolutionary Russian aristocrats, White Russian general Pyotr Wrangel and Prince Serge Obolensky.

[...] Passage Press differs from many others in its niche in offering new work by the contemporary far-right’s intellectual celebrities, and in curating in-person events and a far-right literary award. The publisher also produces high-end limited editions of selected titles. The “patrician edition” of Noticing, a book by Sailer, for example, is “bound in genuine leather, gold-foil stamping” and “Smyth-sewn book block”, according to the website. Though lavishly produced, the “patrician” offerings appear to have generated significant income for Passage. At the time of reporting, Passage had sold out its limited run of 500 patrician editions of Noticing at $395 apiece, according to the website. This equates to some $195,000 in revenue. An earlier patrician edition of winning entries in the 2021 Passage prize sold 250 editions at $400 apiece, according to the website, representing another $100,000 in revenue. The publication of Noticing – also available as a $29.95 paperback – was spun out into a series of in-person events in Austin, Los Angeles, Miami and New York City, held in March, April and May.

The Guardian reveals that the identity of far-right X account Lomez belongs to UCLA lecturer Jonathan Keeperman.

#Jonathan Keeperman #Lomez #University of California #UC Irvine #Passage Press #Steve Sailer #White Nationalism #Right Wing Extremism

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thechanelmuse · 5 months

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My Book Review

Morgan Jerkins was trending during the release of Kendrick Lamar's Drake hit diss record, "Not Like Us," after culture vulture DJ Vlad attempted to get her fired from her teaching position at Princeton University for telling him to mind his mf business. Black folks digitally hemmed him up for his spiteful retaliation, and he began backpedaling only after he discovered Morgan is the niece of legendary producer Rodney "Darkchild" Jerkins.

Seeing her name trend quickly made me recall her memoir, Wandering in Strange Lands: A Daughter of the Great Migration Reclaims Her Roots. It was one of my favorite reads of 2022. I headed to this site to reblog my review. Lo and behold I never posted one on here 🙃. So here we are.

From the moment I read the title, I knew this book would feel familiar, taking me back to the my early days of deep curiosity, personal discovery, and documented confirmation while uncovering the long paper trail of my ancestry and land. (For info on lineage tracing, refer to my post here.)

Morgan Jerkins' familial journey through Georgia, Lowcountry South Carolina, Louisiana, Oklahoma, and California made me think of my own as a granddaughter of grandparents who headed to New York during the Great Migration by way of Georgia, South Carolina and North Carolina extending to Louisa County, Virginia and Boley, Oklahoma. Morgan's memoir, which is divided into four sections, is engrossing, detailed, and reels you into a seat next to her on her journey.

Here's the book's blurb:

Between 1916 and 1970, six million Black Americans left their rural homes in the South for jobs in cities in the North, West, and Midwest in a movement known as The Great Migration. But while this event transformed the complexion of America and provided black people with new economic opportunities, it also disconnected them from their roots, their land, and their sense of identity, argues Morgan Jerkins. In this fascinating and deeply personal exploration, she recreates her ancestors’ journeys across America, following the migratory routes they took. Following in their footsteps, Jerkins seeks to understand not only her own past, but the lineage of an entire group of people who have been displaced, disenfranchised, and disrespected throughout our history. Through interviews, photos, and hundreds of pages of transcription, Jerkins braids the loose threads of her family’s oral histories, which she was able to trace back 300 years, with the insights and recollections of Black people she met along the way—the tissue of Black myths, customs, and blood that connect the bones of American history.

Genealogy is a never-ending process of search and discovery for Black Americans that's met with hidden documents and some areas paper genocide, due to destroyed documents, misclassification, and several stages of racial/ethnic reclassification for our ethnic group implemented by the US government since the 1790 census. I'm pretty sure even after concluding this book Morgan continued her search, working back through her long lines. It's layered like an onion. I've been working on mine for almost two decades reaching the 1600s for a few. It gives you a sense of awakening that's an everyday feeling. It'll never dissipate, especially being able to pull black the veil and unearth the identity of ancestors whose names haven't been said for hundreds of years.

#morgan jerkins #wandering in strange lands #lineage #genealogy #black history #thechanelmuse reviews #book reviews

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thehistoriangirl · 11 months

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Free candy blurbs!!!

I will be writing some blurbs as a treat or treating event until November 2nd (bc Día de los Muertos amirite)

Well, in case you want one/have an idea, don't be shy and send an ask :3

Just send in the blorbo you want the blurb pls

Okay bye~ *mwah*

#arcane viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #jayce arcane x reader #jayce talis x reader #mel x reader #mel medarda x reader

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spoopydooblr · 11 months

Note

Omgggg you’re back! A blurb about how Kendall goes all out for Stella’s birthday?? Imagine how much he would do if he did all that for his 40th!

ohhh so true hahah he would! we already know he gets her gifts just for fun, so he'd go alllll out for holidays, but ESPECIALLY her birthday. i think that he likes to see her get older (bc hes so old lmao) and seeing her grow into herself and become better every year is something he cherishes.

in the dating stage i think that he would do the most because he wants to impress her. i think the first birthday he plans is typical kendall, over the top and extremely unnecessary. stella fucking hates it but puts a smile on her face as she greets 500 of her closest friends. there's a small theater playing her movies on repeat and a mini museum about her character's storyline on delirium. a giant glamor shot (kendall made her get them done) of stella and her dog hangs next to a buffet of her favorite foods. shes so flattered that kendall did all of it but is mortified by the amount of gifts and barely makes it through the night without having a panic attack. it was just so overwhelming.

"you loved it, right?" he asks in the limo home, still wired even though it's four in the morning and they were just leaving the venue.

she nods, yawning, but fesses up in the morning and insists for smaller parties from now on.

"what about the babies?" he pouts.

"what about the babies?" stella cocks an eyebrow at him.

he pulls her in close. "can i go all out for their birthdays?"

she laughs, but agrees, both of them knowing deep down he was infertile and babies were a long way away if they even were to try.

. . .

but speaking of!

you better believe when those girls turn one hes going insane. one child's birthday is stressful, but now it was doubled. stella tries to calm him down, reminding him that they wont even remember it, but he's too far gone.

its a backyard bash at their los angeles home, featuring all of their friends and family. there's ice cream, there's cake, there's even a chocolate fountain. its way more of an event than it needs to be but everything goes according to plan and kendall finally feels like he did something right.

all other birthdays are pretty average, rich people affairs. before the kids are born i think kendall would chill out a bit, per stella's request, but still, those parties are going to be lavish.

i think big birthdays like stellas 30th or kens 50th would be a similar vibe to his 40th in the show.

thanks for this request it was so fun!

send me moreeeeeeee

#kendall roy x oc #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy

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rainingskyguy · 2 years

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Can I fall in your arms and call it home?

Had the amazing opportunity to participate in the fan event Sweet Delight to celebrate the Aether/Xiao ship! I wrote a fic in collaboration with Oolah (artist), depicting Aether and Lumine if they were Yaksha instead.

Summary:

The Yaksha Generals receive an addition to their ranks: a cryo adeptus by the name of Lumine, and her twin brother Aether, the only dendro adeptus to fight in the war. Xiao does not approve.

Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42735069

Archive warning and tags and a short blurb under the cut!

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

M/M

Fandoms:

原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game)

Relationships:

Characters:

Kong | Aether (Genshin Impact), Ying | Lumine (Genshin Impact), Yakshas (Genshin Impact), Xiao | Alatus (Genshin Impact)

Additional Tags:

Yaksha Xiao | Alatus (Genshin Impact), Yakshas as Found Family (Genshin Impact), Yaksha Kong | Aether, Yaksha Ying | Lumine, Yaksha AU, Archon War (Genshin Impact), Pre-Relationship, I messed with the genshin timeline a bit, Made-up Dendro Reactions, Written Before 3.0 Update (Genshin Impact), The overall idea I mean, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse

Summary:

The Yaksha Generals receive an addition to their ranks: a cryo adeptus by the name of Lumine, and her twin brother Aether, the only dendro adeptus to fight in the war. Xiao does not approve.

Blurb:

Aether had told his sister he would just ignore Xiao from here on. So of course, it wasn’t even two days later when they were both deployed to protect the sealed remains of Retuo. Together.

(He was going to refuse Bosacius’ command. But when the big Yaksha had crossed all four of his arms, asking him if he was okay with pairing up with Xiao, Aether had immediately snapped that he had no problem with it.)

It had been fairly easy to ignore one another during the heat of battle, as they each led their battalion against the neverending anger of a betrayed god, successfully vanquishing the demons that appeared.

Both Generals had sent their men away as the sun finally sank over the horizon, not wanting to risk engaging when the shades were strongest under the glow of the moonlight. But Aether had lingered, needing to make sure nobody had fallen behind, and that there was no danger lurking.

He was about to call it a day when he realized he never did see Xiao leave the area. While his fellow General had made it obvious his life was none of his business, Aether went back to check.

And lo and behold, under the ever-haunting shadow of the tree that sealed off a god, he found the Conqueror of Demons hunkered on the bloodied ground. His ankle was bent at an unnatural angle, trapped in a gnarled upraised root, and black tendrils of cursed energy dripped from his shivering form.

#aexiao #xiaother #genshin impact #aether genshin #xiao genshin #aetherxiao #yaksha genshin

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mortwig · 2 years

Text

He compartido 2325 publicaciones este 2022

¡Son 1776 más que en 2021!

36 publicaciones originales (2 %)

2289 reblogueos (98 %)

Estos son los blogs que más he reblogueado:

@sincericida

@booksandcatslover

@physicallyunwell

@withahappyrefrain

@slightlyrebelliouswriter23

He etiquetado 764 publicaciones en 2022

#dracula daily: 217 publicaciones

#✌️: 202 publicaciones

#eurovision: 43 publicaciones

#andrew garfield: 34 publicaciones

#tick tick boom: 19 publicaciones

#nwh: 19 publicaciones

#nwh spoilers: 16 publicaciones

#peter parker x reader: 12 publicaciones

#esc 2022: 11 publicaciones

#pride and prejudice: 11 publicaciones

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#also given my trend of falling in love with older men i feel like i'm closer to finding someone who i like who's acceptably old for me

Mis publicaciones más populares este 2022:

masterlist

Hi everyone!

I started writing fanfiction a few months ago. I generally post on AO3 first, but I've decided to post my works here as well. Here's what I have so far:

Spider-man fics (based on TASM!Peter Parker but flexible):

SFW

Four drinks I'm wasted: 600, ex dynamics, angsty short blurb.

NSFW 18+

Cracked Glass: 5,6k, strangers to lovers, fluff, smut

Night Monkey: 7,1k, enemies to lovers, slow-burn, smut

A Fortuitous Reunion: 6,4k, ex dynamics, porn without plot, 100% smut

Flowers In Your Hair: 4,8k, flower shop + sex pollen + professional rivals, entry to Wicked’s “Kink or Treat”

Any and all feedback welcome!

40 notas. Fecha de publicación: 27 de abril de 2022

Cracked Glass

18+ EXPLICIT [minors DNI] - Peter Parker/Spider-man fanfic

Words: 5,6k

Pairing: fem!reader x Peter Parker (based on TASM!Peter but flexible)

Summary: Set after the events of "Spider-man: No Way Home". Reader meets Spider-man under awkward circumstances and they end up spending some time together.

Tags: 18+ explicit, smut, nudity, fluff, minor violence, dark humour, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, vaginal sex, mild praise kink, some swearing, minor mentions of past trauma, reader is kinda goofy, all characters are 18+, numerous Tick Tick Boom! references.

Song inspo: Green Green Dress

[I'm more updated on AO3 than I am here. Check my profile out here. I posted the link to this some time ago, so sorry if you've already come across it!]

Your mouth drops open.

“What the f…“

You’re walking backwards as you speak, trying to put some distance between you and whatever is going on in the dark alley.

You suddenly trip over a bulk, barely hidden between two rubbish bins.

You look down briefly to make sure it’s not a dead body. No, just a backpack. Probably drugs.

You look back up and reassess the situation. So there’s a giant ring of sparks in front of you, in a dirty, creepy New York alley in the middle of the night. And you’re pretty sure it’s a portal because what you see on the other side looks like a river.

And suddenly a figure appears out of nowhere in a flash, crosses the portal running and before you know what is happening, they have body slammed you and you've collapsed the ground. And the person is awkwardly on top of you. It takes you several seconds to react, and then you start screaming and moving your limbs. It feels a bit like a dream, where you want to escape but your body feels heavy and doesn’t move. Except this time it’s not a dream, just some weirdo in spandex crushing you.

They start screaming as well, struggling with their own limbs and finally rolling away on the ground. The light from the main road finally illuminates what turns out to be none other than Spider-man. You assume it’s the real one and not just a cosplayer from the fact he just appeared literally from thin air.

Your mind is quickly getting to all the logical conclusions and calming down, but your body works at a different pace and you realise you’re still screaming and your arms and legs are still flailing around uselessly.

“Oh my god I am so sorry, are you okay?”

“You’re Spider-man!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He’s looking around now. “What time is it? Hold on. What day is it?”

“Um.” You check the old watch on your wrist. “2.45, I guess the 11th of February now”.

“How much time does multiverse travel take? Does it take longer to different realities?” he’s muttering to himself now, you’re barely catching any of it.

You probably should leave him, but you can’t stop yourself from staring. A real superhero. Right in front of you. No one back home would believe you.

Regardless, you try to give him a moment and focus your attention in gathering yourself together. You get up, accidentally stepping on the drug backpack. You’re surprised to hear a bit of a crunch. Drugs are big and solid and... metallic?

You pull it up to inspect whether it’s a murder weapon, taken from a crime scene maybe. Your mind wanders, you could join the FBI, does the FBI get to meet superheroes often?

You pull a vintage camera out of the backpack, the lens cracked. “Oops” turning it around you read the handwritten sticker on it with its owner’s name. “I’m sorry Peter Parker...”.

“What for?” a voice interjects.

You’re still talking to yourself “...unless you’re a serial killer and this is to take pictures of your prizes”.

Your brain takes a few seconds to process what just happened. You look up, the eyes on Spider-man’s mask seem to occupy all of his face. He’s absolutely frozen, and so are you.

“You’re a drug dealing serial killer?”

Descúbrela

41 notas. Fecha de publicación: 27 de abril de 2022

Flowers In Your Hair

Entry for the amazing’s @wicked-remarks ‘ “Kink or Treat”!

18+ EXPLICIT [minors DNI] - Peter Parker/Spider-man fanfic

Words: 4,8k

Pairing: fem!OC* x Peter Parker (based on TASM!Peter but flexible)

Summary: Flower Shop + Sex Pollen + (kind of) Professional Rivals

Tags: 18+ explicit, mostly strangers to lovers, smut, nudity, vaginal sex, mild praise kink, oral sex (both F and M receiving), no bed in sight, some fluff, all characters are 18+.

Song inspo: Flowers in Your Hair by The Lumineers

*[I say OC because it’s written in the third person, but can be read as reader because she uses a codename the whole time and her physical appearance is barely described]

The bell over the door rang for the third time that day, and Peter barely had the energy to look up. It was probably someone “just looking” or a tourist hoping to take some aesthetic shots for their travel log. Slow days like this made him want to close the shop and swing himself far far away from here.

He had been trying for a good hour to focus on the physics problem due for tomorrow evening’s class. Frustrated from the lack of inspiration, he finally looked up to see a young woman admiring the carnations displayed near the door.

“Good morning!” Peter said in his best customer service voice, stifling a yawn. “If you need anything let me know.”

“I will, thank you.” The woman shot him a smile that barely reached her eyes. She seemed focused... Too focused for a simple visit to the flower shop, Peter noticed.

Peter’s tingle rang loudly at the back of his mind, pulling him off his stool. He cleared his throat and casually made his way to the woman.

“They are just beautiful, aren’t they? Those yellow ones arrived only this morning.”

She hummed an approval and took a step away from him, now seemingly inspecting the coloured roses.

“Disappointment.” Peter intended for his tone to be playfully stern, but it turned out harsher than expected. This caused the woman to turn, a mixture of surprise and mild panic taking over her features for a split second, before settling into a controlled expression of confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“Disappointment, rejection. That’s what yellow carnations mean.” Peter smirked, leaning forward as if confiding. “But don’t tell anyone, I don’t think many people buy flowers to express disdain anymore.”

She laughed and took another step away, her hand now on the door handle. The sound of her laugh warmed Peter’s chest, and for a second he forgot he was suspecting her of… of what exactly? Of acting shady in a flower shop?

Come on Peter, get a grip, you’re just sleep deprived from the night patrols. He thought to himself.

“Let’s not give them any ideas.” And with another ring of the bell, she was gone.

Peter stood there for a few moments, taking one last look at the yellow carnations before closing the shop for the day.

It was around 1 am when Peter woke up in a cold sweat. Another nightmare. He got up to get some water. He tried to remember what the dream had been about. It was about work. Conventional work. Flower shop. But also, Spider-man? Carnations. Yellow carnations. The woman looking at the yellow carnations. What was she wearing? Wide-brimmed hat. Red wide-brimmed hat. Like that night about a year ago at the docks. Red wide-brimmed hat amongst diamond smugglers…

Peter’s hand let go of the glass of water he was holding as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place in his brain.

By the time the glass shattered on the floor, he already had half his suit on and was headed towards the window.

It wasn’t often that criminals walked in through the door of the local superhero’s side job, Peter thought to himself. He hoped he wasn’t too late as he dropped down to the ground a few buildings away. Approaching by foot, he didn’t see anyone inside, nor anywhere around him.

In the shop, everything seemed to be in order. He approached the carnations. He thought about the new provider who had brought them. Mrs Hernandez had said they had shown a lot of interest in getting the flowers in the shop as soon as possible. This was nothing new, one would think, in the flower industry. But even Mrs Hernandez, with 50 years in the business, thought their approach was odd. “Muy raros, Peter. But the claveles are beautiful, ¿no?” she’d said.

Descúbrela

52 notas. Fecha de publicación: 26 de octubre de 2022

Four drinks I'm wasted

Peter Parker/Spider-man blurb

Words: 670

Pairing: gn!reader x Peter Parker (based on TASM!Peter but flexible)

Summary: Reader's thing with Peter didn't end on a good note, but they still miss him. So they try to drown the loneliness in alcohol.

Tags: angsty, a bit fluffy maybe, ex dynamics, alcohol consumption, drunk characters.

Song inspo: Talia by King Princess

[Check my AO3 profile out here.]

Peter Parker ghosted you for the last time 6 weeks ago, give or take a few days.

You were embarrassed at how much it had affected you, ending things with him. It’s not like you had been together (if you could even call it that) for that long. Nor had he treated you that well. But he was sweet, and thoughtful, and hot.

He just kept leaving you stranded, with no explanation, no apology text, nothing. And you didn’t want to get hurt.

Six weeks without hearing from him. You had done so well, not drunk texting him even once, given your record.

But today is not a good day. The week is going terribly at work. You haven’t been able to call your mum, because she’s on holiday. And you dropped your coffee on your laptop this morning. So you deserve a drink.

Do you deserve four drinks? Maybe not. But the alcohol is burning so good down your throat. And you haven’t indulged in a long time, so it’s going straight to your head…

When the fourth shot hits the back of your throat, you’re positively wasted, and you are loving it. You swear you can see Peter standing right there in front of you, hand stretched out towards you, asking you to dance. He’s smiling, he’s leaning down to kiss you. You’re both lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, laughing at each other, locking eyes, kissing again. But it’s all in your head and you know it, deep down you do know it.

So after enjoying the fantasy in your mind for a long, long time, you feel a few stray tears falling down your face. You feel ridiculous for feeling like this about someone who clearly hasn’t spared you a single thought since saying goodbye. You get up to open the window. The fresh air will clear your head and tomorrow will be a better day. Or so you’re trying to tell yourself.

But you freeze in place, barely a step away from the window. You can’t believe your eyes. Spider-man is sitting on your fire exit, just outside your window. His mask is off, his head is resting against your window but looking down. You see the tear roll down his cheek before you even recognise his face.

He turns to you and you lock eyes just as it all falls into place in your mind. Peter Parker is Spider-man. That’s why he kept ghosting you. That’s why he never gave a good reason for his behaviour.

And now he’s at your window, and he’s crying, and his eyes show a longing that can only be a reflection of your own.

You open the window and you continue to look at each other, neither knowing what to say.

“Peter…” you say softly.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out in response. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I was so awful. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to commit. I’m sorry I let you go. Now you know why I did it, but it’s still no excuse. And I’m sorry I showed up like this today, it’s creepy and it’s wrong, but it was a quiet night and I got drunk and all I was seeing was you. It was like I could taste your lipstick, and I just needed to see you.”

You could keep listening to him rant for hours, but you have other things in mind. So you put a hand to the back of his neck, and you pull him in for a kiss. He doesn’t hesitate long. He reciprocates the kiss with passion, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer.

He jumps in through the window, and now he’s standing right there in front of you, hand stretched out towards you, asking you to dance, although no music is playing. He’s smiling, he’s leaning down to kiss you again. Soon, you’re both lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, laughing at each other, locking eyes, and kissing again. And this time, it’s not in your head.

55 notas. Fecha de publicación: 7 de mayo de 2022

Mi publicación más popular de 2022

Night Monkey

18+ EXPLICIT [minors DNI] - Peter Parker/Spider-man fanfic

Words: 7,1k

Pairing: fem!superhero reader x Peter Parker (based on TASM!Peter but flexible)

Summary: Peter Parker takes a trip to Europe, where he encounters (and ruins the day of) an unnamed superhero (reader). Reader then demands help in return but they have to go into hiding together for a few days.

Tags: 18+ explicit, enemies to lovers, smut (if this is what you're here for, it's at the very end), slow burn, nudity, lots of sexual tension, minor violence, corruption (the political kind), misunderstandings, anonymity, cocky Peter, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, mild praise kink, mildly dubious consent, light choking, tied hands, some swearing, some mentions of past trauma, all characters are 18+.

Song inspo: Shame by InnerCut & mori

[I'm more updated on AO3 than I am here. Check my profile out here. I posted the link to this some time ago, so sorry if you've already come across it!]

Night monkey.

He publicly called you night monkey. Night. Monkey. On live television. With the whole world watching.

What kind of absolute rubbish superhero name is that. Who gave him permission to say it. Why was he talking about you in the first place.

Your first public appearance after being stung by that god forsaken black jellyfish.

It happened about six months ago. It had been just another normal day at the lab. Being a clumsy person in science had always been a struggle, but that particular day you were feeling unwell on top of it. You don’t remember what happened, you were running late, the lab coat got stuck on a chair, you tripped and banged your head against one of the tanks really hard. You opened your eyes, still lying on the floor, just in time to see the crack in the glass spreading. Next thing you know, the jellyfish that had been genetically engineered to remove plastic from the ocean was wrapped around your neck and the pain was unbearable. Your airways had swollen, you thought you were going to die from asphyxia, but then your vision became clear again. By the time your colleagues had run in from the neighbouring labs, you were actually feeling fine and you insisted to everyone that you did not need to go to hospital because the jellyfish was not dangerous. You didn’t know that for sure, actually, but you despised the doctors in the local emergency room and you really did feel fine. In fact, you felt better than you had all day, maybe even all week.

You still took the day off after the incident, mostly to settle everyone else’s nerves. You were surprised to see that by the time you got home, the swelling on your head had disappeared completely and the pain was gone. The red mark on your neck was still there, but it was painless. It actually looked more like a birthmark than a scar.

You were in the shower when things started to get properly weird. Your skin was glowing blue. That was weird enough in itself. But then when you tried to reach for the towel some kind of filament actually flew out of your wrist. From inside your skin.

You knew, rationally, that you should be freaking out. This was all extremely concerning, health wise. But you hadn’t felt this balanced in years. You also felt energised, almost like you could go for a run. That was very unlike you. But you did. And with every step you took it was more and more obvious that your body was undergoing some serious changes. But also, with every step, you felt you were gaining control over said changes. Not even a few hours had passed and you could control the glowing, the filaments (which you’d found out the hard way they stung), the newfound ability to detect and identify chemicals in the environment without need for any equipment, the ability to stay underwater for long periods of time and even the instant regeneration of your cells when injured or in pain.

You’d since become Rome’s silent guardian. You’d done your best, and mostly succeeded, at staying in the shadows, literally and figuratively. Your existence went by mostly unnoticed, other than a few rumours going about. You didn’t want the fame or the recognition or the drama that others enhanced individuals were attracting. You just wanted to do some much-needed good.

That is until, for whatever reason, Spider-man showed up today in Rome.

You were following a corrupt senator, trying to gather enough evidence of his murky businesses with the local drug-dealing elite. You were just off the Piazza Navona when you saw him on top of Neptune’s fountain. Spider-man. The absolute clown of the superhero guild.

That was enough distraction to lose sight of the senator. You cursed under your breath. You hated this job. But you also knew this was the only way of making Rome, even Italy, a better place.

Irritated, you went back to the Piazza and hid behind a street food cart to watch the scene unfold.

Spider-man seemed to be causing a panic, fighting a fish-like creature that emerged from the fountain. You had no intentions of intervening. It was way too exposed and surely the one and only Spider-man could handle it. But then that absolute moron snapped an arm off one of the stone angels and that was crossing the line.

Dressed in your black suit and mask, you’d dashed to the fountain, had a brief struggle with the creature, stung it with your filaments, and handed it to a stunned and speechless Spider-man. You’d then ran to hide in the nearest dark corner. Too late, however. A local TV station had been filming something for the news report nearby and had instantly shared the images with the city and then the world. It was the first time Spider-man had been spotted outside of New York. It was a big deal. You appearing in all the footage was collateral damage, but damage your regenerating cells could not repair.

You’d just entered a café, changed into street clothes, when you saw Spider-man being interviewed on TV.

“Really who we should thank is... Is... That person. I don’t know their name.” He was stammering.

He was being pressured into giving more information about his “assistant” as the reporter called it.

“Assistance is what he’s going to need when I catch him. Moron.” You whispered to yourself.

And that’s when he said it. “The Night Monkey.” In all fairness, it did sound like he was just desperately trying to get away from the journalists. But that was no excuse for coming up with such a horrendous name.

Your mouth is still agape, eyes glued to the screen, when the barista hands you your change and your coffee. She coughs quietly for you to move along. You finally react and practically run out of the café.

It’s just your luck that you run straight into someone walking past in the street, your coffee spilling all over both of you.

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205 notas. Fecha de publicación: 26 de abril de 2022

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ezcater · 1 month

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#indianapolis catering

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wadjaya · 8 months

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So, in our vampire: the masquerade game, we periodically get free xp for writing little narrative blurbs or poems or whatever. This one probably isn't as strong without some of the surrounding context, but I enjoyed it-

Before the Events of the Eclipse

Shit has officially hit the fan.

He should have known better- calm always means a storm is coming. He doesn’t deserve a moment’s damn peace.

Technically, this didn’t even need to be his problem. Los Panteras wouldn’t go after his, they just want the Kindred to own the underground. That should be good for him, it would be a meteoric rise in power for him.

But he understood it would be wrong to allow it to happen. Were the Stricats any better? Debatable. But they weren’t a Cartel. They weren’t Kindred. They weren’t…

Sabbat.

The Constable rests, seated in the emptying office of what once had been Joseph Trainor’s Warehouse. A truck stop dead on the water as gang activity in the area falls massively sideways. Joey would hate knowing that this is what became of his business, but it’s not as though there was much Wepwawet could do about it.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, considering how best to even proceed. If he could get an idea of what actually happened, he could prepare a countermeasure. Eyewitnesses weren’t helpful. Maria wasn’t helpful. Hopefully she would be, at least. With the clear threat, maybe his offer to help wouldn’t fall on deaf ears.

This was his fault. He had the power to end it all, in one fell swoop. But he fell too in line with the law and order of his Barony, the one he meant to leave anyway.

He got too comfortable, playing a secondary role.

Maybe he got too distracted, with the personal shit.

Wepwawet leans back in his office chair, his head rolling back to rest atop it and stare up into the ceiling.

Despite the guilt, the strife, the struggle in these last couple weeks- there were bright spots. Maybe he shouldn’t have had those, those distracting moments.

A certain Gangrel’s acceptance of his plans going forward. A beautiful young woman, allowing her eyes to shine like they once had with him. A kind King, returning a treasure he had cast away.

A Baron, guiding him away from conflict he had no part in.

A Lost Love, desiring his happiness from a distance.

A Ruler, supporting him in his endeavors.

A Blood Bond, encouraging him to undo those chains he set upon himself.

These people believed in him, when he never really believed in himself. Times like these, he was reminded why he hated himself so strongly. Why he had been so ambivalent to the concept of his own demise for so long.

They also reminded him why he feared death, sometimes.

“I want to see you happy. I want to see a world where you understand how valuable you actually are…”

“You wouldn’t look a crying man in the eye and shut his life down. Not like you’re telling yourself you would.”

“A fight is no fun if both people aren’t giving it their all.”

“For even the smallest chance, we will fight. For them, and ourselves, we will remember.”

The Revenant sighs and pushes himself to his feet, glancing about the mostly empty office space. Times were changing, rapidly. Would he be able to keep up? Only coming on nine years of this shit, and already it seemed things were speeding up around him.

In the space of a week, the most powerful gang in the city was knocked down a few pegs. Along with everyone else.

Except him. An issue that would probably be noticed.

Or a testament to his abilities. Who could say?

He wanders out into the open warehouse floor, shelves largely empty and each one supporting the leaning weight of various people who’d escaped harm. People who’d come to him, seeking safety in territory that had yet to fall. An illusion of safety, yet to crack. From the sound of things, it wouldn’t.

But there was a very real possibility his head would come onto the block, eventually. That’s what Kindred do.

He offers a nod to a man sitting beneath the brightest light in the room, just eating some cup noodle as if it was his last meal.

Would Click enlist his help? Was there help which he should enlist? Should he be coming up with a plan? Or would a plan be given to him, a role to play?

“There are a thousand people who will continue to tell you what to do.”

He couldn’t sit idly by and watch these people suffer. It was needlessly cruel, an evil position to place them in. A man’s will being exercised on a world which did not need him to proceed. On the contrary, likely would be better off without him.

By placing themselves in his care, Wepwawet was now responsible for their safety. These were his people, now. Not just Ammut, but members of all the major gangs in Virginia Beach. Even the Stricats.

He could feel his Beast coiling around them, demanding their safety. The Revenant, the Constable of Ace’s Barony, Wepwawet Wadjaya feels a determination rising within him.

He would be making a choice. Not a wise one. But a choice, nonetheless.

#dako writes #wepwawet wadjaya #therabloggin #crossroads vtm

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