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santanasaintmendes · 2 months

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make tacos, not war

part4! to the cosmic girl records

¡cosmic girl records!

summary: tacos, tequila, beaches, the mexican grand prix, beefing with charles and getting roasted by the grid, anything else?

olliebearman x reader & platonic!grid x reader

fc!: gorgeous girls on pinterest all credits go to their rightful owners!

disclaimer!: there are sensitive and offensive jokes used below so do not interact if you are not ok with those things! If there is anything that i have included that is seriously inappropriate and harmful to people contact me and let me know so i can do my best to make sure everyone is happy!

a/n: AHHHHHHH! Thank you so much to everyone who has supported the ¡cosmic girl records! so far it seriously makes my day to see all the likes and reblogs.

warnings!: talking about addiction to alcohol (the 2019 rookies call y/n an alcoholic), joking about death, y/n calls checo mr taco man, swearing, offensive jokes, british slander i’m sorry 😞, stealing of best friends, the knife emoji?

word count!: 1.6k

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, georgerussell64 and 4,472,382 others

unfortunatelyy/n: siesta, fiesta, tequila and repeat!

tagged olliebearman

view 23,392 comments

bestie1: while i rot away in my pj’s watching friends smh 😔

unfortunatelyy/n: I LITERALLY ASKED IF U WANTED TO COME TOO????

bestie1: oh yeah

user1: SHE’S SO PRETTY TF??

user2: the third pic 😍

user3: the first pic 😍

user4: the second pic 😍

olliebearman: the first pic: moments before disaster

unfortunatelyy/n: don’t expose me like that???

user9: hittin’ the man with the triple question mark, shit’s about to get real

olliebearman: she fell into the water.

unfortunatelyy/n: OPEN THE DOOR

user12: GIRL WHAT

olliebearman: NO STOP TRYING TO BREAK DOWN THE FRONT DOOR YOU PSYCHO

unfortunatelyy/n: that’s fine. your windows open

olliebearman: WHAT

user5: is he still alive

user6: he may be dead i fear

unfortunatelyy/n: update: oliver james bearman is no longer a problem in today’s society 😄

landonorris: damn hittin him with the full government name is cold

unfortunatelyy/n: shut up what do you know

landonorris: more than you that’s for sure

unfortunatelyy/n: WHY CAN’T U JUST LEAVE ME IN PEACE

landonorris: if i remember correctly, YOU were the one who wanted to be friends

unfortunatelyy/n: I WAS 5. i was young, dumb and foolish, i didn’t know what i wanted 😔

landonorris: @georgerussell64 @alex_albon

georgerussell64: hmm, i smell a liar

unfortunatelyy/n: tf u sniffing around for mf

alex_albon: damn so aggressive

unfortunatelyy/n: shut up your girlfriend’s cheating on you with me

| alex_albon: 🥲

user7: alex’s smiling through the pain fr

user8: the 2019 rookie’s goal this year: make y/n suffer

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

schecoperez: i approve, nice photos

unfortunatelyy/n: thank you mr taco man

user9: MR TACO MAN HELP

user10: okay now i’m convinced they’re besties

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

user11: I could use a glass of tequila right about now

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, georgerussell64, alexandrasaintmleux and 6,382,493 others

unfortunatelyy/n: tequila, tamales, a boy, what more could a girl want?

tagged olliebearman

view 93,392 comments

user1: did ollie so dirty in the third pic 😭

user2: that’s what happens when u cross y/n 😭

olliebearman: i take it you’re still mad at me?

unfortunatelyy/n: yes ❤️🔪

user7: NOT THE KNIFE EMOJI

carlossainz55: remind me again to never offend you in any way

unfortunatelyy/n: @olliebearman watch and learn

olliebearman: ok 😔

landonorris: yeah ollie 😒

olliebearman: why are you attacking me too 😭

landonorris: idk it’s fun

olliebearman: wow.

user3: we love savage y/n, may she reign forever

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

landonorris: y/n confirmed alcoholic

georgerussell64: y/n confirmed clown

alex_albon: y/n confirmed delusional girl

charles_leclerc: y/n confirmed idiot

user8: damn 😭

unfortunatelyy/n: DAMN WHAT DID I DO TO YA’LL

charles_leclerc: live.

alex_albon: steal my girlfriend.

georgerussell64: take my phone charger WITHOUT my permission

landonorris: @charles_leclerc what he said

unfortunatelyy/n: . . . I-

landonorris: absolutely speechless, completely baffled, rendered loquacious

user5: i didn’t realise lando had that many words in his vocabulary

georgerussell64: okay pop off shakespeare i see u 👀

unfortunatelyy/n: I HATE YOU ALL ESPECIALLY YOU @charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: it’s okay we all hate you too!

| unfortunatelyy/n: i don’t usually swear but you charles marc herve percival leclerc are one little shit

charles_leclerc: DIE.

user6: oof his ego took a hit with the full name

unfortunatelyy/n: after you, ladies first 😌

charles_leclerc: @olliebearman come and get your girlfriend she’s escaped her cage

unfortunatelyy/n: HEY THAT’S NOT FAIR @alexandrasaintmleux I’M ABOUT TO MURDER YOUR BOYFRIEND COME AND GET HIM BEFORE I DO

user4: HELP GUYS THE KIDS ARE FIGHTING

olliebearman: @alexandrasaintmleux gf/bf duty calls 😔

alexandrasaintmleux: 😔

liked by olliebearman, lilymhe, lewishamilton, alexandrasaintmleux, carmenmmundt and 3,382,382 others

unfortunatelyy/n: ready for this weekend!

tagged olliebearman

view 18,372 comments

olliebearman: thank you for the nice photos this time 🥰

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

unfortunatelyy/n: you’re welcome peasant

olliebearman: i can never win around here

user3: poor ollie 😔

user4: THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE IS KILLING ME

user1: guys we’ve officially lost her to ferrari 😔

landonorris: traitor.

unfortunatelyy/n: excuse me child

landonorris: don’t play dumb, you abandoned mclaren and here i was thinking we were best friends

unfortunatelyy/n: WHY DO YOU KEEP ATTACKING ME IN MY OWN INSTA COMMENTS FACE ME LIKE A MAN

landonorris: don’t change the subject

user2: bro took a hit on his ego with that one

landonorris: i’m calling in the reinforcements @charles_leclerc @georgerussell64 @alex_albon

unfortunatelyy/n: STOP 🛑✋

georgerussell64: she can’t even admit it

alex_albon: shame on you

charles_leclerc: why’d u call me i literally drive for ferrari

landonorris: cuz u roast her the best

unfortunatelyy/n: u guys suck

charles_leclerc: he’s not wrong

unfortunatelyy/n: I HATE YOU

charles_leclerc: the feeling is mutual

landonorris: you not only betrayed me but the other idiots too

alex_albon: i speak for all williams fans when i say FOR SHAME

georgerussell64: FOR SHAMEEEEEE

lilymhe: 🤨 whatchu hatin on my wifey for @alex_albon @georgerussell64

carmenmmundt: yeah? 🤨

alex_albon: @georgerussell64 help what do we do

georgerussell64: if anyone asks, i’ve left the country.

user5: GEORGE HELP

alex_albon: how could you abandon me like that

user6: such a fake friend fr

liked by landonorris, olliebearman, oscarpiastri, georgerussell64, alex_albon, lilymhe and 6,829,200 others

unfortunatelyy/n: cheat meal!

tagged olliebearman

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user1: she’s never beating the alcoholic allegations im afraid 😔

user2: WHY DOES THE FOOD LOOK SO GOOD, I’M BOOKING A FLIGHT TO MEXICO RN

user3: get zambrero?

user2: STFU IT’S NOT THE SAME

landonorris: caught in 4k 📸

olliebearman: @unfortunatelyy/n YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU WERE GOING TO POST IT ON YOUR INSTA

unfortunatelyy/n: darling, every photo i take is for my insta

user4: oo that gave me the chills “darling”

user5: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER OLLIE SHE’S BRITISH NOW

user6: y/n now: 🤓🇬🇧

ferrari: @olliebearman pick up the phone

olliebearman: NO.

user7: RUN OLLIE RUNNNN

user8: god bless y/n for these photos may she reign forever 🙏

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

user9: smh, guys we’ve lost y/n to the tequila, only god can help her now

user10: get yourself someone who looks at you the way ollie looks at that bowl of food

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

georgerussell64: why would you expose ollie like that, let my guy have his cheat meal without the entire internet coming after him

unfortunatelyy/n: woah what happened to you

georgerussell64: im afraid to ask what you mean

unfortunatelyy/n: who knew george russell would vouch for MY BOYFRIEND

georgerussell64: well it’s better than pushing him into the barriers every weekend

olliebearman 😰

user11: i have an odd itching feeling that the 2019 rookies still hate ollie for dating their younger sister

user12: ya think

liked by olliebearman, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, carlossainz55, lewishamilton, francisca.cgomes and 5,382,493 others

unfortunatelyy/n: i cant. it’s race day.

view 38,492 comments

landonorris: wow. exposing me like that. i hope u die alone

unfortunatelyy/n: doing it for the plot 🤷‍♀️

user7: AMEN SISTER 🙏🗣️

user1: poor lando, what was the tea tho 👀

user7: y/n’s got her priorities set straight

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

user2: SPILL THE TEA LANDOOOOOOO

carlossainz55: what is tea

olliebearman: it’s a drink??

olliebearman: oh.

unfortunatelyy/n: it’s okay i still love you

olliebearman: ok 😔

charles_leclerc: SPILL THE TEA Y/N 🗣️

carlossainz55: 🗣️🗣️

maxvertappen1: 🗣️🗣️🗣️

georgerussell64: 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

schecoperez: 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

landonorris: IF YOU TELL THEM YOU DIE

unfortunatelyy/n: threatening me in my own comments, who do u think you are? |

landonorris: . . . your best friend . . . ?

unfortunatelyy/n: nah, oscar’s my best friend now

landonorris: @oscarpiastri ?

| oscarpiastri: @unfortunatelyy/n: YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO TELL HIM

unfortunatelyy/n: whoops 🫢

| landonorris: i see how it is 😔

user4: still waiting to know what the tea is

landonorris: YOU’LL NEVER KNOW

| unfortunatelyy/n: hm, we’ll see 👀

landonorris:😰

user5: oscar and y/n best friends confirmed 👍

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

user6: the y/n i know would spill the tea 👀

unfortunatelyy/n: 👀

user6: HELP Y/N

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, charles_leclerc, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes and 8,382,859 others

unfortunatelyy/n: love you to the moon and back a million times, always and forever, congratulations my love 🐻❤️

olliebearman: love you to the moon and back 🌙💞

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

user1: LOVE YOU TO THE MOON AND BACK? MY LOVE??? ARE U KIDDING ME 😭😭

user2: it’s the onions. it’s the onions. it’s the onions

user3: im not crying you are

user4: homeboy’s turning 1

user5: i can’t wait for lando to pop up in the comments it’s like whenever y/n posts he’s summoned or sum shit like that

user6: ah yes, young love

user8: OMG I’M CRYINGGGG AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

landonorris: @olliebearman u know, orange would look better on you, there’s a free seat available here at mclaren 👀

oscarpiastri: i thought you said we were okay

user9: why do they sound like an old couple tf 😭😭

landonorris: i say a lot of things i don’t mean, traitor 😤

oscarpiastri: you’re acting like a child

landonorris: no you are!

oscarpiastri: says the guy who just used an exclamation mark in an insta comment

landonorris: its official. i’m going to dive bomb you off the track next week

oscarpiastri: what? after your DNF? cuz i don’t think that’s possible

user8: DAYUM

| unfortunatelyy/n: ooooooh he got u there @landonorris

landonorris: I HATE YOU, YOU STOLE MY BEST FRIEND

unfortunatelyy/n: i can’t have stolen him if he was my friend first

landonorris: wHaT.

oscarpiastri: ah yes, the magic of childhood friends

user7: HELP WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT

landonorris: but she’s american and you’re australian. . . right?

unfortunatelyy/n: mhm sure

olliebearman: 😦

landonorris: 😦

taglist time!: @ilivbullyingjeongin

a/n: thank you for reading if you got to the end! I hope it made you laugh, have a great day xx

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copperbadge · 3 months

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I am home! I am festooned in cats.

I think about a third of the time, when I travel, I get clocked as a local even though I'm not one, at least until I open my mouth. This is wild considering how poorly I do at blending in, but I do also move with more confidence than I ever feel, and people tend to notice that I look like I know what I'm doing. I have no idea what I'm doing most of the time but I'm great at faking it. In New York I got asked for directions multiple times.

I would guess most of the rest of the time I'm seen as "foreign but don't fuck with him" to judge by how I'm treated. Like, people see that I'm not from around here but don't see me necessarily as a tourist, someone who doesn't know their way around. This is slightly more comprehensible to me because, as above, I exude a confidence I do not possess and it can be intimidating.

And then of course occasionally I do get correctly identified as a tourist, especially in tourist districts, but it's usually not systematic. It'll be like, I've been taken for a Bostonian all morning but the server at lunch will ask, "So where are you visiting from?" immediately.

I have never been so clearly and consistently marked out as a tourist as I was in Nashville. Holy hell. Even in Paris when I was the least Parisian it's possible to be I still got taken as French repeatedly, and then when I said I only spoke English I'd be assumed to be British.

In Nashville, everyone I interacted with even involuntarily was like "he's not from these parts and possibly he's a mark." I had a guy try to panhandle from me while I was trying to get off a bus, and when I pulled an admittedly Chicago-style attitude on him, he was visibly shocked. (I generally give to panhandlers but he was literally preventing me from getting off the bus so I barked "Hey, do I look like I have time for this right now?" and pushed past him, which I think I only managed because he was so surprised.)

I have no idea why I stuck out so badly in Nashville, unless it was that I did more typical touristy stuff than normal, but it's not like I never go to museums and kitschy shopping districts in other places. Come to think of it I think the last time it happened this consistently was Amsterdam, which I'm still in a fight with.

Anyway, I enjoyed Nashville and I'd like to go back, since there was a lot I wanted to do and didn't get to. But I also really misjudged it as a city, so when I do, it will be a very different kind of visit I think. For one thing, I am definitely not going back anytime between April and October. I'll wait until it's ten below in Chicago and then head down to balmy Tennessee.

#the biscuits and bbq trip #sam travels

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 1 month

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One For The Road [1]

Cecil Dennis x AFAB!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals• masterlist • ao3• want to be tagged? • request info • ko-fi •

Series Masterlist

Summary: Cecil forgets he invited you over.

A/N: The biggest thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for beta reading this and fixing some of my British-isms <3 I owe you my life!

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed, weed use, fleshlights, Cecil talking about 'Catcher In The Rye', fingering, Cecil coming in his pants, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 3404

You Sit and Talk to Me on the Floor

You lean back against the sofa, getting comfortable as your high pleasantly buzzes in the back of your head.

You’d been pretty pissed when you’d got here and Harry was nowhere to be found. (You, him and Cecil and Harry’s new girlfriend Mary-Ann, who you hadn’t met yet, had plans to hang out and watch a film. Or at least that’s what Cecil had told you.) He’d grinned when he’d opened the door, “What are you doing here?”

Turns out he’d been high (unsurprising) when he’d messaged and asked you. And had promptly forgotten all about it without letting Harry or Mary-Ann know.

And now Harry was ‘working’. Or something. Cecil wasn’t exactly clear.

Ever since he’d been dumped by his girlfriend Cecil had been staying with his cousin to ‘get back on his feet’, or more correctly, ‘make a mess, panic, tidy the house in a crazy rush to a standard that would put a professional kitchen to shame and then repeat’.

He’d apologised for a good fifteen minutes when he realised his mistake, and had offered you a brownie as he ushered you inside.

“Is there weed in this?”

He stared at you like you’d grown an extra head. “It’s a brownie.”

“You know pot isn’t a standard ingredient, right?”

He’d pulled a face that made you laugh. “What’s the point in that?”

Cecil sits on the floor, leaning against the sofa and lolling his head back as he talks to you, “I’m really glad you came actually, sorry again,” he smiles shyly, “I was kinda lonely.”

“You can hire people for that.” You tease and he snorts.

“No, that’s not what I mean. Besides,” he shrugs, “I’m broke.”

You giggle, finding it far funnier than you normally would.

He grins and takes a swig of his beer before another hit from his bong.

“How many brownies did you have?” You ask, interested, you’d only had one.

“Two… and a half.”

“And you’re smoking too?”

“Yeah? I mean,” he puffs up his chest proudly, “I got a high tolerance.”

“If there were an olympics in getting high you’d probably get a gold.”

“I definitely would get a gold, I bet they used to have that, weed consuming, in the olympics I mean. They used to have poetry and people competing naked and everything, and then it got ruined.”

“With clothes or lack of poems?” You smile.

“Both.” He nods confidently. “Though maybe some clothes is a good idea…” He ponders for a moment, “I bet if you run and you got no pants on your dick just,” he flops his hand around like crazy and you giggle, “I mean, that would hurt. And boobs!”

“Boobs?” You wheeze out.

“Yeah, I bet some boobs would hurt too, you need those high impact bras and all that.”

“How do you know about that?” You run your hand through his hair absentmindedly, he always did have such soft, rich curls.

“I’m a guy of knowledge, you know. I know many things.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Like what then?”

He leans a little into your touch, smiling as you stroke his hair. “Erm, I know that this,” he taps the part of the sofa he’s leaning against, “is called a sofa skirt.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.” He grins at you when you poke out your tongue. “I know the sky’s blue because of Rayleigh scattering-”

“What’s Rayleigh scattering?”

“Why the sky is blue.”

“Cecil…” You roll your eyes playfully and he giggles.

“Okay, okay, it’s to do with light particles and how they,” he waves his hand to the side making a buzzing noise, “move about when they’re in a wavelength.”

“How do you know that?”

He shrugs, “I dunno. Just do. Something stuck once I guess.”

You nod, “Pretty impressive skill.”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, “I don’t control what sticks, I’ve literally read every single math book I ever could on how to do algebra when I was in high school and nothing.” He pauses and then smiles, “I can quote Catcher in the Rye to you though.”

“What?” You shift a little, leaning closer. “Like the whole thing?”

“Mostly,” he shrugs again but he puffs his chest out, obviously pleased at your interest. “But I guess I could just be making it up if you don’t know it word for word and don’t have a copy in front of you.”

“I trust you.” You say kindly and he beams.

“Well, okay, look, first paragraph, because it’s easy,” he swallows and clears his throat.

“If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.” He puts on a voice as he speaks, at first it’s jokey as he tries to poke a little fun at himself, but as he continues it relaxes, becomes more like he’s inhabiting the voice of the character.

“That’s very, very cool.” You grin and he smiles shyly, looking down at his hands before taking another hit. “Yeah, well, doesn’t help much.”

“You like Catcher in the Rye?”

He nods. “Got an A+ on that report.” He grins, “I always thought it was sad, you know? The story I mean. Just a kid trying to be an adult because that’s what society implies, when really he just wants to be… you know… enjoy his childhood.” He nods a little. “I like that his little sister is more mature than him, that he has this innocence to him. That even though the story is about a loss of that, in the end, I dunno, I don’t think it fully happened.”

You incline your head, staying quiet so he’ll continue.

“I mean, I think he’s still innocent. Still playing at being an adult. Like everyone is.” He shrugs, shaking his head. “But whatever.”

You give his shoulder a light shove, “But whatever? Cec,” you lean forward, your hand still in his hair, “that’s so good, like insightful.” You say sincerely.

He gives you a bashful smile, his eyelashes fluttering a little as you compliment him. “Yeah, you know, thanks.” There’s the smallest flush to his cheeks. “You’re so smart and everything so that means a lot.”

“Cec,” you say softly, shaking your head, “you gotta think better of yourself.”

He nods halfheartedly.

“Really, you got to, you…” You pause, trailing off as something catches the light and inadvertently, your eye. It’s shoved to the side, on the floor between the right hand side of the sofa and the wall.

Cecil looks around to where you’re staring, mildly interested for a moment before his eyes widen. “Oh, shit, sorry!” He goes to push it further under the couch and out of sight but doesn’t reach far enough and ends up falling onto his side and flailing about.

“Is that what I think it is?” You giggle, unable to stop yourself.

“Erm…” He looks up at you, trying his best to give you a winning smile from the floor. “That depends on what you think it is?” His voice is hopeful.

“A flesh light?”

He groans and puts his hand dramatically over his face.

You laugh harder.

“Ugh.”

“It is?” You ask excitedly, unsure why this is amusing you quite so much.

“Mhmmm.”

“Yours?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my goooooood,” you lean down and ruffle his hair until he has to take his hand off his face to bat you away and starts laughing, “Cecil getting it on in the living rooooooom.”

“No!” He lies.

“Ohhhhh, is that what you were doing before I got here?” The glee in your voice is palpable. “Is that why it took you so long to answer the door?”

“Stop.” He tries to pout but keeps laughing. “I hadn’t got that far yet.”

“Yet?”

“You came over! That’s more important than jacking off.”

You snort loudly. “I’m honoured.”

He pulls a playful face and lightly smacks your calf.

“I wouldn’t have stopped having a wank just because you came over.” You joke and Cecil bursts into hysterics.

He manages to calm down long enough to spit out his next words, “I wouldn’t ask you to stop.”

“What?”

“If you wanted to get down and whatever, that’s fine, I’d just hang in the kitchen.”

It’s your turn to have a laughing fit. “Oh, you’re so slimy.” You tease, adjusting your skirt as you move.

“No, no,” he sits up, still giggling, his cheeks flush. “I wouldn’t watch or listen, I’m not being a perv.”

“Sure, sure.”

“Hey! I don’t need to spy on people, I can, you know.”

“What?” You grin.

“See it on the TV whenever.”

You start laughing again. You had been expecting a bit of macho, ‘I can pick up willing partners whenever I want to’, not ‘I’ll watch some porn’.

“Yeah?” You prod him in the arm playfully.

“Yeah.” He nods, “that’s what I was doing before you came over.”

“Oh, good to know.” You chuckle. Part of you knows it’s the weed that’s making you a little less guarded than you usually were, but you can’t help yourself. “What were you watching then?”

“Well, I hadn’t decided yet.” He shrugs, but he’s grinning, obviously quite happy to talk with you about this. “I was having a look.”

“On what?”

“PornHub,” he shuffles towards the TV on his knees and grabs the remote and then his phone. “I cast it, see,” the screen mirrors his phone as he scrolls through. “I was just browsing.”

“You say that so casually.” You goad him playfully.

“Yeah, well, I mean why not? Most people look at porn.”

You nod.

“Don’t you?” He asks, quite innocently as he cocks his head to the side.

Heat rushes under your skin. “Well, erm, yeah, I mean.”

He grins, but not in a gloating way, more pleased that you’re both sharing something.

“What, erm,” you squirm a little, feeling foolish and trying to push the focus back to him. “What do you normally watch?”

“Like porn wise?”

“Mmhmmm.”

He grins, “lots actually, my tastes are very varied.” He says like he’s talking about wine. “Sometimes two girls, sometimes a guy and a girl, sometimes two guys, sometimes a group. Sometimes just someone by themselves.” He shrugs and looks up at you, when he sees you’re still listening he swallows and continues, “I got a favourite.”

You nod, your mouth dry.

“It’s two girls, erm, it’s not even like, that,” he waves his hands, “it’s just, it’s quieter, I guess? They sound more… natural. Like it’s not being put on for show, and they got like, these suits. It’s not like latex or anything, not that there’s a problem with that, it’s sort of like body suits, skin tight, but hands are free, and boobs, and,” he motions to his crotch, “down there, and… they sort of… like just…” his face reddens a little more. “They, rub together in like missionary and come and… and it just sounds so nice. They look like they’re really enjoying it.”

He looks up at you again and fidgets, his eyes dark.

The nervous expression, the flush to his cheeks shouldn’t be endearing, shouldn’t make you feel a twist of heat in your stomach.

“I could… show you?” He says quietly, like he’s trying to tiptoe around something else.

You find yourself nodding once, saying, “Okay.” before you even realise it.

He finds it quickly on his phone and sits down next to you on the sofa, a hands width away.

You stare at the TV while looking at him from the corner of your eye.

“This reminds me of high school.” He says quietly, biting his lips together. “A group of us used to, when porn was harder to get hold of, used to like, watch it together and smoke.”

You nod, a quick reply simply not coming.

The video starts, the two women posing for the camera before they make their way to the bed.

“I used to worry,” he continues, “because sometimes weed makes me really horny.” He shrugs, flinching inwardly at why he said that.

“I get that.” You swallow.

One woman climbs on top of the other.

“You do?” He asks.

“Yeah,” why are you speaking, why can’t you just shut up? “The horny thing.”

“From smoking or watching porn?” He asks innocently.

“Both, I guess.”

He hums, nodding. “Me too.”

You both continue to watch for a moment in an odd silence, the air is thick with an oppressive weight. You want to look at him again, want to see his soft eyes and plump lips.

Cecil shifts a little, fidgeting once before he pushes the heel of his hand against his leg and… wait… not his leg.

His erection is straining against his jeans.

You can’t help but look, going over the shape and outline and- You freeze. He’s looking right at you.

“Sorry.” He gives you a sheepish smile as if he was the one that had been caught perving. “Guess it’s a bit more obvious on me.” He jokes, but the tips of his ears still flush.

“No, yeah, I mean…” you stumble over your words, trying to fill the gaps as the moans from the TV grow louder and… they did sound like they were having fun. “I mean,” you swallow and start again, “I, if I had a dick, you’d see it,” you motion your hand upright.

“Yeah?”

You nod.

“Not just saying that to make me feel better?” He asks, gently nudging you in the shoulder.

“No… I would.”

He gives you a sweet look, but it’s still disbelieving.

“Cecil, I’m not lying.”

“I don’t know…”

“Why would I lie?”

“You’re too nice all the time, it’s not lying it’s ‘sparing my feelings’.” He motions with his hands.

“Well, I’m not,” you fold your arms. “I’m being truthful.”

“Okay.”

“Cecil.”

“I said okay,” he teases. “I’m agreeing with you.”

“But you don’t believe me.”

He nods. “That’s true.”

You huff air through your nose, exasperated. “I’m not lying.”

“Sure.”

“There’s no point to me lying.” Your voice raises a little at the end, which only makes it sound more like you are lying.

“Okay.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

He laughs, “just because you’re a dirty and bad liar, doesn’t mean-”

You don’t know why you do it, but you grab a hold of his hand and press it forcefully between your legs. “See?” Your voice sounds sure of itself, like a gloat. But your mind is just only catching up with your actions. And the sensation of Cecil’s warm, thick fingers against your core.

You’re wearing a skirt, the only thing separating your skin from his is the thin material of your panties which are undoubtedly damp.

“Oh,” he breathes, his cock twitches. “Yeah, you’re…”

You freeze, still holding his hand against you. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

His fingers brush a little against the cotton. The action takes you by surprise and much to your dismay a weak gasp leaves your lips.

He glances up to your face as you keep your eyes closed, screwing them shut to avoid his gaze. But seemingly he finds what he was looking for.

He moves his fingers again, a little firmer this time, tracing a soft circle against your clit and you shudder.

There’s a pause, a fraction of a second as he waits for you to stop him, to tell him no.

You don’t.

So he does it again, and again, and again until you’re squirming. Your breath is coming out fast as your hips shallowly move in time with his fingers.

He inches closer to you, pressing his chest against your shoulder and resting his forehead on your temple.

Cecil moans softly in your ear as you whine, your lip between your bottom teeth as you watch the two women fuck on screen without really seeing.

He slowly presses on the damp patch, rubs along your core before he slips your underwear to the side and touches you lightly.

You jolt, gasping, turning your head to press your forehead to his.

He groans as he traces his forefinger along your slit, marvelling at the slick that coats the tip of his finger before he lightly pinches your clit.

“Cecil,” you breathe.

“It’s okay,” he mutters, kissing your cheek and then your lips gently, “it’s okay, it’s just a friend helping another one out. Just helping…” He drapes his free arm around your shoulders, his fingers mirroring the pattern of his other hand on your arm.

He kisses you again, soft and sweet as he lightly teases you with the tip of his tongue.

The second you part your lips he inhales deeply, angling his hand and pushing two fingers deep inside while flicking your clit with his thumb.

You gasp, your moans music to his ears as he kisses you wantonly as he curls and strokes your walls.

“Oh, god, you’re really wet,” he bites his lip, grunting as he presses closer, curls deeper until you’re bucking and practically sobbing. “Really tight, mmm, feel so nice inside.” He mumbles, not really registering what he’s saying as he pants in your ear. “Thank you for letting me, oh,” he shivers as you whine, grabbing hold of any part of him you can reach and clinging on, silently begging him to continue.

“Is that good? Is that where it’s nice?” He swallows, stroking the same spongy spot again and groaning when your thighs quiver.

You nod rapidly and he coos, “oh good, good, mmm,” he kisses your neck, breathing deeply to fill his lungs with your scent. “God, so nice and warm, bet you got the cutest little pussy? Fuck.” He groans, moving so he can rub his crotch against your thigh, “you’ll let me look sometime? I would love to see it, bet it’s so sweet.”

Your eyes roll back, your muscles tensing as he keeps moving, keeps pulling you closer to that edge. Your moans are overshadowing the sounds of the TV, the squelch of his fingers fucking you relentlessly bouncing around the room.

You can hardly think, hardly form words, your mind obsessed with the reaction that all consuming pleasure that is so, so near.

“Bet it’s the prettiest pussy I’ll ever see,” he groans, the friction of his jeans burning deliciously against his cock as he rubs himself over your thigh, making him lightheaded. Being near you is making him lightheaded. The fact that you’ve let him touch you, and be in you is dizzying and those sounds you’re making are enough to make him come on the spot. Right now, so close. Just a tiny little more friction and-

You clench around his fingers, crying out as your orgasm is pulled expertly from you. Cecil whines, keeps moving his thick fingers in that blinding pattern and pressure, as he follows you instantly. Your blissed out expression driving him clean over the edge.

You shiver, your thighs shaking as you come, as the pleasure seems to stretch onwards and as Cecil moans softly in your ear.

You both breathe, Cecil’s fingers still inside you as you stroke a hand through his hair. A wet patch starts to bleed into his boxers, but he doesn’t care. Not when you’re so close and he feels so happy.

He opens his mouth to speak and-

There’s a key in the lock, and the front door opens. You both jump, moving away from each other to the opposite ends of the sofa as Harry comes back.

You feel oddly empty without his touch, without his fingers buried inside.

Harry pokes his head around before he comes into the room, he looks at the bong and beer and porn still playing on the TV. “You guys started the party without me?” He kids.

You laugh, not entirely convincing.

“Cecil, man, what’re you doing showing off your porn playlist huh?” Harry jokes and Cecil shrugs.

He’s using his forearm to cover any signs of his softening erection and wet patch, while he dangles his other hand off the arm of the sofa, out of Harry’s sight. Where his cousin can’t see how he rubs his slick covered fingers together.

Thank you for reading!

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kissesforsatoru · 1 year

Text

GUARDIAN ANGEL | wc: 5k~

GUARDIAN ANGEL!HOBIE BROWN X GN!READER

₊˚⌗ hobie was never supposed to get involved with you, yet you and him became irrevocably tied to one another.

⤷ cw : general yandere themes, soft yandere!hobie, near death experiences, marking (not in the way you guys probably think), jealousy, possessive behavior if you squint, implied power dynamics, pet names (love, sweetheart), horribly written british accent, utterly smitten hobie, softie!reader, reader is smaller than hobie, but angels are big compared to humans so that's why (he’s like 6’5+ and he wears platforms), EVERYTHING ABOUT ANGELS IN THIS FIC IS ENTIRELY MADE UP.

notes : please bear in mind that i don't have a full grasp on hobie yet, so he is probably definitely a bit ooc; i did try my best though!! i’m also planning to put this on ao3 at some point, so if you see it pop up there it’s not plagiarized, it’s just me ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

♫₊˚.🎧 now playing . . . fool for you by noita

it was never supposed to turn out like this. you and him were never supposed to happen.

you were only supposed to be 'just another human' to hobie like the rest of everyone else. he wasn't supposed to get involved or contact you directly; he wasn't supposed to get attached. you weren't supposed to get attached to him either. but you did, and he did too. so much that he’s entirely fucked. there’s no coming back from this for you or him.

it's not like this is any of hobie’s fault though, not when he’s known to not follow the rules and definitely not when you're the most precious human he has ever had the pleasure of being the guardian angel of.

he will admit that at first it was boring to watch you, but then it was fun.

you aren’t anything incredibly special. just a broke college student with very few friends who likes to stay home more than you like to go out. but following you around and laughing his ass off about all of the stupid little things you did when you thought nobody was watching, like talk to yourself or narrate your actions, hobie really enjoyed that. he got a nice kick out of whenever someone would catch you doing one of those things and you’d get all flustered, shy, and painfully awkward.

you're undeniably adorable, and so refreshing. it's nice being your guardian angel in comparison to being one for some grubby old bastard whose morality borders far past what's considered to be good. hobie hates those people, pigs they are, all of them. you aren’t anything like them. you're boring, yeah, but hobie still likes you better than any other human.

he sometimes pretended that you were talking to him whenever you spoke to yourself out loud, even though that couldn't have been possible. he would smirk and respond to you still with his dry humor and witty remarks because it was fun and it gave him a delightful little buzz.

he didn't know how, or when, it happened, but hobie then found himself melting whenever he was around you, and more, he didn't mind it.

hobie used to hate angels that fell for humans because they’re such fragile beings; you have to be careful with them, all gentle and soft—it's why they need guardian angel, otherwise, they would die out faster than any other species earth has ever known. and angels, despite what people may think, aren't gentle lovers. they're aggressive and intense by nature due to their power and status as "higher beings." humans are too weak to handle an angel's love; it would be too overwhelming for them to handle, so falling for one is pointless, and hobie always thought that the angels who did were stupid. but he gets it now.

he shouldn’t though.

guardian angels have very specific and strict rules that have to be followed meticulously for both the safety of humans and angels. of course, hobie has broken more than a few of these rules before and he’s also gotten plenty of lectures from miguel about it too—enough for hobie to have actually considered flying under the lunatics' radar by doing his job correctly, but hobie... he doesn't like to be pushed around and forced into a role. especially one as heavy as guardian angel. that's just not him, so he does what he wants.

but still, hobie has never seriously messed up before. he's only had a few slip ups here and there that aren't too reprimandable in comparison to other things. he's tried to be somewhat serious about his job, follow all the important rules and all that. that is until he fell for you.

hobie has broken many of the important rules for you, and the first one was even falling for you in the first place. you made him break that one so easily, almost too easy. the next rule hobie broke for you was communicating with you directly, revealing himself and really getting involved with you. but to be fair, that also wasn't his fault. he didn't have the intention of letting you see him that night, let alone talking to you; it just happened.

your friend gwen told you about guardian angels and how it was possible for you to manifest using the help of yours, and you were awfully excited about finding out if that was true or not. you asked him for a sign that he was there, that he was willing to help you. one thing led to another and suddenly you were nestled deeply into the corner of the wall on your bed, wide eyed and shivering as you stared at him standing across the room.

perhaps it was your over eagerness mixed with his half-developed love for you at the time that made him stupidly decide to give you a sign that he was real in the form of literally showing you that he was real, he doesn't know. either way he did show you himself, and it had shocked you, really (an understatement). it took many hours of him consoling you to get you to understand that he's not some psycho who broke into your home somehow, but your actual, real guardian angel, in the flesh.

you were practically all over him after that, asking him all sorts of questions and touching him just to see if that was even possible for you to do—and to know what it would feel like too. not that he minded anyway. hobie decided then that it was much better having you actually talk to him than it was pretending that you were. and your touch was so soft that hobie had actually faltered a little bit when you reached for his cheek, pressing your palm against his skin and keeping it there for as long as he would let you.

of all the places you could have touched him, of course you would choose an area that felt so unreasonably intimate, shaking him to his core. luckily you were far too enamored with the idea that he was a real angel for you to notice how much you’d set him off, how much you affect him.

after that he couldn't stay away from you. before he might have had a chance to snap himself out of his little love-sick puppy stupor, but having you aware of him, talking to him, touching him—it was all exhilarating; he loved it. and it would truly be unfair for anyone to expect him to pull away from you and never let anything like that happen again. that was never an option for hobie, so he just didn't. he won’t ever deny himself the pleasure of you.

the last, most recent rule that hobie broke for you, and the one that happens to be the most important of all, was interfering with your life. going against "fate," as miguel calls it. hobie always thought that it was bullshit since a guardian angels' job is to protect, but apparently, they aren’t allowed to prevent their assigned human's death, or cure their illnesses, or anything like that, even though they had the power to. he didn't understand it, but still, he never got attached enough to feel the need to go against that rule until he fell in love with you.

— ୨୧ —

he indulged himself little by little with you. first by allowing himself to enjoy being your guardian angel, then by falling in love with you and involving himself physically with you. and then he started allowing himself to steal your attention from anyone or anything other than him on days he felt oddly needy.

that term isn't something anyone who knew hobie would use to describe him, not even he would use it to describe himself, but with you he's always acted a little bit different. he came to accept it, told himself that it was the "y/n effect" and left it at that. being needy with you was something that hobie didn't really mind all that much; he embraced it, really.

hobie can at least get away with a little bit of harmless interference this way, by stealing your attention for himself. he didn't mind receiving another long, boring lecture about how he can’t keep breaking rules if it meant he got to spend his day with you holed up in your little apartment, just the two of you. you and him and nobody else.

he'd show up out of nowhere when you least expected him to, always, and tug on your arm, pull you into his body and coax you into staying with him. he'd tell you that going to work would be bad for you, leave you sick and groggy—you hate being sick and all groggy, and only a fool would think hobie wouldn’t use that to his advantage.

"you have to listen to your guardian angel, love," he would tell you, tilting his head to look down at your small frame, admiring the slight angry pout on your lips. "i know what's best for you, so stay, yeah?"

you always do listen to him. you trust him completely, after all, because you're such a naive human that could never ever think that hobie, your guardian angel, has bad intentions with you. and he doesn't, no, he's just a little bit selfish. no harm in that, right? 'course not.

hobie can go a little overboard with his selfishness whenever you have a date to go on though. he shouldn't be because you're a human and he's an angel and he could never have you for real, right? so he should let you have your little love story with your puny little human boy.

but hobie is going to be selfish regardless of the facts. regardless of some stupid rules.

he hates the idea of you being with some dumb human when you have him. he's perfect, he's an angel. he's strong enough to protect you, he has your best interest always in mind—it's his literal job—he can love you the way you deserve to be loved and more, he can care for you better than anyone else in the world because he knows you best and knows exactly what you need without ever having to tell him. no human can ever compare to him.

no human will ever be as cool as him either. hobie doesn't think any guy can top him when he's a punk angel—what could possibly be cooler than that? you said it yourself when the two of you first met.

"wow, i didn't think angels could look so... cool. hobie, you're amazing; what the hell!? how did someone like me get you as a guardian angel?”

who are you to be going on dates when you compliment him so sweetly like that. you obviously have an interest in him and all hobie needs to do is push you in the right direction, so he doesn't mind telling you any excuse he can come up with to get you to drop a guy, stupid and unreasonable or not.

"that guy just wants you for your body."

"that guy has a love already that he's not telling you about."

“that guy isn’t a good person, he’ll be a bad influence for you.”

"sweetheart, he's too ugly for you." he told you one time as an excuse, and you did not like that one.

"hobie! it's not about looks, it's about personality, and– and the heart!" you yelled at him, smacking his chest lightly as you pulled away from him and rushed your way down the hall towards your room.

"oh, s'at right? you like guys with ‘heart’?" he huffed a laugh as he followed behind you, leaning against your door frame when he got to your room. you turn around to glare at him, but he only smirks at your ruffled posture.

cute. cute.

"yes, actually! unlike you. i had no idea angels could be such assholes," you grit before turning back around to flop yourself face first into bed.

you always do that when you're upset with him, which isn't often at all, but it happens enough for hobie to pick up on the little habits you develop, and this is certainly one of them. you don't like looking at him 'cause he ‘does stuff to you,’ apparently. makes you unable to stay mad if you look at him too long, so you just choose not to.

he pushes off the wall and saunters towards you, pressing a knee into your bed as he reaches over to tug at your arm, urging for you to roll over, to look at him. "c'mon, you don't mean that, love." he smiles when you do eventually turn to look at him, and this time with a much less angry expression on your pretty face.

"no, i don't," you sigh defeatedly, "but you are pretty mean sometimes, hobes."

that nickname. he loves that nickname. he loves even more that you were the one who gave it to him.

he hums thoughtfully before responding, "not to you though, and tha's what matters, don't you think?" you roll your eyes at him, shifting so that you're flat on your back now as you look up at him. you don't say anything more, only stare up at him with your pretty eyes, all glossy and shining under the dim light in your room. big, and so fucking innocent.

god. fuck.

hobie crawls over you slowly, keeping his eyes steadily on you as he does. he brings a hand to your cheek, stroking his thumb over your soft skin gently as he settles himself above you, and then he reaches his thumb to press into your chin so that he can get a good grip on your face. to keep you from gettin' all shy on him, ‘cause he knows you will when you realize what he’s about to do to you.

his eyes flit down to your lips when your tongue darts out to lick across your bottom one, all sensual like—or maybe hobie is getting too worked up. yeah, probably that, but whatever.

you sigh shakily when hobie starts to lean down closer. you're so pliant, laying there nice and still for him even though you're feeling nervous right now. because you trust him; there isn't anything hobie could do that would make you not trust him.

hobie has to keep himself from absolutely devouring you when his lips press to yours. he has to remind himself to be soft, to not be too aggressive so he doesn't scare you too much, or hurt you either; the weak little whine you let out as he kisses you does nothing to help his self-control stay intact though. thankfully, you grab tightly at his leather vest and tug for him to come closer, inviting him to press further into you and kiss you deeper.

hobie balances himself up on his knees as the hand that was holding him up comes to knead at your waist and tummy, feeling and rubbing there as gently as he can right now in his worked-up state—which is just barely enough for him not to leave imposing bruises on your skin from how much stronger he is compared to you. you don't seem to mind how tightly he holds onto you though, because you're still eagerly kissing him back, making all sorts of pleased little noises that hobie is all too happy to swallow up.

hobie only pulls away when you start squirming under him, signaling that you need to breathe. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you tight against his body as he nuzzles into your neck, inhaling your delicious scent and placing little kisses on your neck as you pant softly.

"you don't need another man, you know that love?" he ask you, tells you, after a while of the two of you just laying together.

"yeah, i guess i don't," you reply to him, airy and quiet, right before you fall asleep tucked nicely into his arms. exactly where you belong.

— ୨୧ —

jessica stops hobie one night right as he's about to leave and go see you.

"if miguel finds out about this, you know he's going to be pissed, right?” she says, coming up behind him. “maybe you can get off on a wrist slap for breaking small, stupid rules, but falling in love with a human is something miguel absolutely will not allow, hobie."

hobie scoffs and rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply, nor does he turn around to look at her. his emotions and feelings would be right on display for her if he did. she’d know well how much he fucked up, and that would be a hit to his pride. ‘specially since he always told her about his dislike for angels who fell for humans.

"what’s ’at got anything to do with me, mm?" he decides to respond out of courtesy, turning his head to look at her through his peripheral, "i'm not in love with any human."

hobie knows that jessica knows that's a lie. it's obvious he's in love with you because of how different he's acting. doing his job right and all that, to some degree at least. breaking the 'don't get in physical contact your human' and 'don't fall in love with your human' rules aside, he's properly keeping up with his status reports about you, he's not off doing other things when he's supposed to be with you. he's being the good proper guardian angel he should be, and that is definitely out of character for hobie. it was really only a matter of time before someone found out. hobie is just lucky it was jessica who put two and two together first instead of miguel. then he’d have a real big problem on his hands.

jessica sighs. "all the stuff miguel says about angels getting attached and falling for humans being dangerous is true, hobie, not just some control tactic to keep angels on a leash. it could cost your human their life, and you your job," she warns before leaving.

hobie always liked how not-pushy she is; it’s why he prefers her over miguel. but he thinks she's wrong, because he would never let you die. ever. he couldn’t care less about losing this shitty job though.

— ୨୧ —

the conversation with jess, as much as hobie hates to admit it, put a real damper on his mood.

he's agitated when he gets to your apartment, showing up right in your room where he knows that you are because he can feel you there. and once he is there, he eases up a little bit. all of his racing thoughts seem to disappear when you come into his vision so he can see you now, not just feel you. seeing and feeling you is nice; it grounds him.

you jolt when you see him suddenly appear behind you in the reflection of the mirror that you're sitting in front of though. a gentle gasp falls from between your pretty lips as you whirl around quickly to look at him, eyes widening like a doe caught in headlights. you ease up quickly, realizing that it's just him; you sigh the words under your breath as you deflate a little bit, coming down from the brief bit of adrenaline you must have felt with him scaring you like that.

goodness, aren't you just so delicate? it's a damn shame hobie's not supposed to go falling for a human, isn't it? a load of tosh that is.

he smirks, "sorry, love. didn't mean to scare you li' that,” he says easy, stepping forward until he's a few feet in front of you, looking down at you, looking up at him. your eyes are glimmering under the artificial light of the lamp settled next to the mirror. he thinks that even in such dodgy lighting, your eyes and soft expression are still utterly enrapturing. the soft, charming glow that the light provides to your features draws a pleased hum from hobie.

so pretty. you're so damn pretty.

"geez, hobes," you say, huffing as you look away from him and down at your lap, "you can't just keep randomly showing up like that; you may well give me a heart attack one of these days if you do." your laugh is music to his ears. airy, pitched, and sweet like the ripest peach. sweeter than the ripest peach.

an angel's voice is supposed to be the most beautiful sound, people say, but hobie disagrees. he would much rather listen to you talk or laugh all day long rather than ever have to hear another word uttered from his shitty coworkers' mouths.

"i would never let that happen to you," he says, tone shifting from playful to serious. hobie feels better that he’s with you now, but the bit jess said about you dying clings to him still. weasels it’s way into his thoughts and makes his stomach lurch. he’s buzzing, and not in the nice delightful kind of buzzing that you bring out of him, no. he just needs you right now.

he needs to feel you—really feel you, beyond the way he feels your life force tied to him, fluctuating with your emotions and physical state. he needs to actually touch you, hold you.

hobie gets down onto his knees in front of you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up into his chest as he does. you whimper in surprise at the sudden proximity between you and him, your hands instinctively grabbing at his shoulder and jacket to steady yourself, even with how tightly he's holding you against him because his presence just overwhelms you too much. he always makes you feel dizzy and weak in the knees. you can never seem to function, not without his help. but that's normal between humans and angels. you aren't made to handle him, you aren't supposed to, but that's okay; he can be as gentle as you need him to be.

"look at me, love," hobie whispers, hooking a finger under your chin, nudging you to look at him. you squeak when your eyes meet his, no doubt incredibly flustered—he can feel that you are. can feel your pulse throbbing as heat rushes through your skin, radiating a dull warmth for him to sink into as his fingers dig deeper into your skin. he smirks, huffing out a faint laugh as he looks down at you, admiring you.

"there you go, sweetheart," he praises you softly, brushing the pad of his thumb across the slight curve of your bottom lip. your eyes flutter closed briefly as you take a shaky breath, and then you open them again, watching him intently, and god does it make hobie feel all sorts of things.

"'m never gonna let anyone or anything hurt you," he murmurs, tightening his grip around your waist and holding you firmly against his chest with each word uttered, “you’re too precious for me to be careless with you like i am the rest of the shitty people in this shitty world. only you matter to me, yeah? just you and nobody fucking else.” he finishes quietly, dipping down to kiss lightly on your cheeks, one on each side, and then another on your forehead, drawn-out and lingering even after he pulls away.

you're practically melting in his hold by the time he does pull away, so pliable and warm, and you're looking at him with hooded eyes that you can barely keep open. delirious as you are, utterly suffocated by him, your grip on his shoulder and jacket is still relentless, unwavering, as if he would slip away from you if you loosened up the tiniest bit. you want him, need him, near to you as much as he wants you near, really. it's not just him with all of these intense, overwhelming and all-consuming emotions; it's you too.

“hobie,” you whine, nearly breathless, “can you– can we please kiss again? on the… the lips?” you plead, tugging at his jacket in desperation.

“anything for you, sweetheart,” hobie whispers, leaning forward until his mouth is hovering over yours, breathing you in slowly before he finally closes them together. he kisses you slow and tender, taking his time in savoring how delicious you taste. you sigh contentedly, tilting your head to the side and parting your lips for his tongue to delve inside of your mouth.

the hand he has wrapped around your waist slides across your body, feeling every dip and curve down to your thigh, where he grabs at gently, swinging it up to his hip as he pushes off the floor. your legs wrap around him instinctively to hold yourself up in his arms as he carries you across the room to your bed, his lips never once parting away from yours as he does. his other hand is holding your chin and jaw in place so that you can't pull away from him either, wanting as much contact with you at a time as he can get away with. he knows you wouldn't pull away from him so easily, but he likes controlling the kiss, likes it when you let him lead the way and guide your body with his.

hobie carefully sits down on the bed and leans back against the wall, settling you into his lap comfortably before his hand starts roaming all over your body; along your hips and over your thighs, squeezing the fat in his hands before moving back up and dipping under your shirt to feel at your tummy. you moan and whimper into the kiss, shivering under his touch when his hand grazes along especially sensitive areas of your body.

when hobie pulls away you're panting and dazed, humming mindlessly in pleasure as hobie starts pressing kisses down your jaw and neck. his teeth graze lightly along the sensitive flesh beneath your ear teasingly before his tongue dips out to lick delicately at the spot, making your body thrum and pulsate in delectation. he nips once at your skin before finally pulling away to look at you, to savor how much of a mess he was able to make you into with a heated kiss. and god do you look absolutely stunning like this. swollen lips parted as you breath out small puffs of air, hooded eyelids, and your clothes are entirely disheveled from where hobie had pushed them up and slid his hands under.

fuck, you’re lovely.

"you look a mess, sweetheart," he rasps fondly, running his fingertips lightly along your hips and thighs.

"'ts your fault," you mumble, falling into his chest and nuzzling your nose into his neck, exhaling softly as you close your eyes and relax. hobie wraps both of his arms around you and rubs your back gently, soothing you until you hum contentedly.

"yeah, i suppose it is, isn't it?" he agrees quietly, not wanting to disrupt your somnolence.

hobie lays with you in his arms for hours after that, listening intently to your steady heartbeat and soft, rhythmic breathing, every now and then feeling you shift with a cute disgruntled little huff whenever you've stayed in one position for too long. hobie loves your sleepy, content little sounds, loves the way your fingers curl around his vest; even in your sleep you're still clinging onto him, because you need him, and he loves it.

hobie loves you.

— ୨୧ —

hobie knows he's not supposed to interfere with fate. it's against the rules, or whatever bullshit excuse everyone says it is. hobie didn't really care that much about it before because he's never cared about anyone enough to ever want to change their fate, but now he has you, and you need him more than ever to keep you safe, to keep you from dying.

god, he doesn't know how it happened, but you were crying for him so desperately. curled on the floor, gasping for air and clutching onto life with weak claws, you were calling his name. it was like sensory overload, hearing every strewn-out letter of his name mixed in with your sobs, with the incessantly throbbing and pulsating of your life force weakening, slowly and agonizing.

the second you had been put in danger, hobie felt it. all throughout his body and deep within his soul, he felt you dying. there was a shift in the air at that moment, a suffocating, excruciatingly tense one that everyone around hobie had noticed; jess and miguel, and his best friend pavitr.

they all yelled and screamed at him that he couldn't go to you, lunging to stop him as he fumbled for the watch that would help him get to you the fastest, but the noise they made was dull and muffled in comparison to the way you cried for him. and god did it feel like he was getting stabbed through the heart mercilessly every time that you did. how dare they ever expect him to just listen to then when you were in so much fucking pain, all alone and the only one you wanted was him.

he had to save you. fuck the rules and fuck his shitty job; you were far more important to him than any of that. it didn’t matter to hobie that in order to save you he had to enchain his soul with yours, it didn't matter to him that he would share every bit of pain with you now, even your last breath if you ever took it, because hobie would rather give up his entire being to you than ever have to live without you.

#yandere #yandere thoughts #yandere imagines #yandere atsv #yandere spiderverse #yandere hobie #yandere hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie x y/n #hobie x you #hobie brown x y/n #soft yandere #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #gender neutral reader

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torchlitinthedesert · 2 months

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Kenneth Tynan and the Beatles

Shout out to @mmgth for noticing Beatle mentions in the letters of Kenneth Tynan - including working with John Lennon, Paul's 1960s reputation, and glimpses of the breakup. (Alas, no George or Ringo.)

Tynan was a drama critic and later worked with Laurence Olivier at Britain's National Theatre. Philip Norman calls him "the most rigorous cultural commentator of his age": he championed working class plays in the 1950s, supported progressive art (and was widely believed to be the first person to say "fuck" on British television). So he's an interesting perspective: well connected, arty, eager for cultural change, but from an older generation, and outside the immediate rock/pop world.

The first mention is 1966, when Tynan is already working at the National Theatre.

28 September 1966

Dear Mr McCartney,

Playing 'Eleanor Rigby' last night for about the 500th time, I decided to write and tell you how terribly sad I was to hear that you had decided not to do As You Like It for us. There are four or five tracks on 'Revolver' that are as memorable as any English songs of this century - and the maddening thing is that they are all in exactly the right mood for As You like It. Apart from 'E. Rigby' I am thinking particularly of 'For No One' and 'Here, There and Everywhere'. (Incidentally, 'Tomorrow Never Knows' is the best musical evocation of L.S.D. I have ever heard).

To come to the point: won't you reconsider? John Dexter [theatre director] doesn't know I'm writing this - it's pure impulse on the part of a fan. We don't need you as a gimmick because we don't need publicity: we need you simply because you are the best composer of that kind of song in England. If Purcell were alive, we would probably ask him, but it would be a close thing. Anyway, forgive me for being a pest, but do please think it over."

Paul replied that he couldn't do the music because, hilariously, "I don't really like words by Shakespeare" - he sat waiting for a "clear light" but nothing happened. He ended, "Maybe I could write the National Theatre Stomp sometime! Or the ballad of Larry O."

It's interesting that Tynan approaches Paul individually - because they had theatre connections in common? Or did Tynan assume that John wrote the words and Paul the music, so Paul's the guy to ask for settings of Shakespeare lyrics? (Though he does correctly identify Paul songs in his letter, plus the musical setting of Tomorrow Never Knows, so he might just be asking because he's a Paul girl. He also wants Paul to know that he's cool and hip and has done acid.)

Tynan definitely is a Paul girl. On 7 November that year, he pitched possible articles (I think for Playboy). He offers articles on the War Crimes Tribunal (set up by Bertrand Russell on the US in Vietnam), an interview with Marlene Dietrich, or:

"Interview with Paul McCartney - to me, by far the most interesting of the Beatles, and certainly the musical genius of the group."

It's a reminder of how drastically Paul's reputation changed, between cultural commentators of the 1960s and post-breakup.

Tynan didn't get his Paul interview, but he worked twice with John.

On 5 February 1968, he's sorting out practical details for the National Theatre's company manager about about the stage adapation of John's book In His Own Write (which had already had a preview performance in 1967). It's a very Beatle-y affair:

Victor Spinetti and John Lennon will need the services of George Martin, the Beatles A & R man to prepare a sound tape to accompany the Lennon play. Martin did this tape as a favour for the Sunday night production, but something more elaborate will be required when the show enters the rep, and I feel he should be approached on a professional basis as Sound Consultant, or some similar title. I have written to him to find out if he is ready to help and will let you know as soon as he replies.

...John Lennon says that as far as his own contract is concerned, we should deal directly with him at NEMS rather than his publisher.

So John prefers to work within the Beatle structure: George Martin, Victor Spinetti, plus NEMS, rather than pursuing closer ties with his book publisher.

On 16 April 1968, Tynan writes to John about his ideas for a wanking sketch.

Dear John L,

Welcome back. You know that idea of yours for my erotic revue - the masturbation contest? Could you possibly be bothered to jot it down on paper? I am trying to get the whole script in written form as soon as possible.

John's reply is very John:

"you know the idea, four fellows wanking - giving each other images - descriptions - it should be ad-libbed anyway - they should even really wank which would be great..."

Oh John.

Tynan still wanted to interview Paul - and was noticing changes in Beatle dynamics. On 3 September 1968, Tynan pitched another feature on Paul, this time for the New Yorker:

In addition to pieces on theatre, I'd love to try my hand at a profile (I remember long ago we vaguely discussed Paul McCartney though John Lennon is rather more accessible)...

Accessible because Tynan had already worked with him, or because John was already flexing his PR muscles? The New Yorker was interested, because Tynan follows up on 14 October 1968:

4. A few days in the life of Paul McCartney (which we agreed should come at the end of the series of articles, because of the current overexposure of the Beatles.)

Why does he see the Beatles as "overexposed" in autumn 1968, when he hadn't in 1966? Was it the Apple launch? The JohnandYoko press campaign? The cumulative impact of a lot of Beatle news?

Tynan was still trying on 17 September 1969:

...I'd like to go on to either Mr Pinter [playwright Harold Pinter] or Paul McCartney... I incline towards McCartney who has isolated himself more and more in the past from the other Beatles and indeed from the public: he seems to have reached an impasse that might be worth exploring. On the other hand Pinter is a much closer friend and would be more accessible to intimate scrutiny."

I'm fascinated by this - that Paul's isolation was visible to those outside the Beatles circle (the letter is dated three days before the meeting of 20 September 1969, where John said he wanted a divorce).

But Tynan was right about Paul being inaccessible. On 5 January 1970:

I'm saddened to have to tell you that Paul McCartney doesn't want to be written about at the moment - at least, not by me. I gather that for some time now the Beatles have been moving more and more in separate directions. Paul went to a recording session for a new single last Sunday which was apparently the first Beatles activity in which he'd engaged for nearly nine months. He doesn't know quite where his future lies, and above all he doesn't want to be under observation while he decides.

So while Paul "doesn't want to be under observation", he's surprisingly open about the breakup - less blunt than "the Beatle thing is over", which he told Life in November 1969, but still frank.

Trying to persuade Paul to open up to "intimate scrutiny" in 1969 does suggest another reason why 1970s interviewers adored John. Tynan works for an older, more established press, but he's offering the kind of profile John would make his own - discussing his inner life and personal/artistic conflicts with cultural commentator who respects him as an artist. And Paul can't run away fast enough. As a journalist, you'd absolutely go for the guy who makes himself accessible and is eager to bare his soul, over Mr Doesn't Want To Be Written About At The Moment.

#kenneth tynan #the breakup #john lennon #paul mccartney #george martin #victor spinetti #oh! calcutta #john's pr genius is so underrated #tag for mine or my addition

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celticcrossanon · 7 months

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BRF Reading - 7th of March, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 7th of March, 2024

Question: Are there any plans for a Regency, official or unofficial, to take place this year?

Note: This reading was done with all the cards upright, i.e. there are no reversals

Interpretation: The King and the Queen do not want a regency.

Card One: The Four of Pentacles

This is a card of holding on tightly to what you have, and that is exactly the energy I am getting from it. King Charles - the energy is masculine, so I am assuming it is the King's - King Charles is hanging on to his position and power with everything he has. He does not want to give up one iota of the Kingship and its duties to anyone else (except his wife), and the energy of that position is rock-firm and rigid in its stubbornness. Even if handing over some of his duties would be better for him, the King is not going to do it.

The picture on the card shows the craftsman Daedalus looking at his nephew. His nephew as more talented than Daedalus was, and Daedalus was both envious (wanting the talent his nephew had) and jealous (fearing that his nephew would take the success and reputation that Daedalus had from him). It is quite likely that the King has similar feelings towards his heir - affection for a family member combined with feeling of envy and/or jealousy, and this is part of the reason that the King is so opposed to a regency.

Note: AFAIK, under British law, if a regency is declared because of the incapacity f the King, for whatever reason (illness etc), then the regent has to be the heir. This is prescribed by law and the King can not say I want X as my regent and have it happen; the regent has to be his heir.

Card Two: The Queen of Pentacles

One of the meaning of the Queen of Pentacles is the good wife, and this is the energy that is coming from this card. The energy of this card is that of Queen Camilla, who is supporting her husband in his desire to not have a regency or any form of support from his heir while he, the King, is ill. In this they are of one mind. The Queen is determined that any power put down by the King will go to her and not to his heir. The energy is telling me that the Queen views any power given to the heir as a weakening of her position, and she is trying to make herself impregnable and unassailable (I was going to type 'as strong as possible' when the other words appeared in my mind out of nowhere). If I am reading the energy correctly, she seems to fear the heir and what he will do when he comes into power, so she is trying to get as much as she can for herself while she can.

As The Queen is coming through as the Queen of Pentacles, there may very well be money and status issues involved here (i.e. Pentacles things) - things that have not been put into law and that would be completely disrupted if Prince William were to come to power.

Tangent: I did a one card reading before this one that I wasn't going to write up, and I asked if Queen Camilla wanted her son to follow her as King, just to try and get some sort of idea about her thoughts and motives, and knowing that this was impossible as the line of succession is fixed by law. I was shocked to draw The Six of Wands, the success card, as the answer to my question, because that said yes, the Queen would like to have her son as King after her and not Prince William (i repeat, it is impossible to do this, so we are talking about wishes, not something that can come true). Combining that card and the above energy, I think that the Queen would feel far safer and more secure if her own blood was the heir instead of Prince William. She is really frightened about what Prince William will do when he is in power, and she does not like how popular Prince William is with the public at all.

Another thing to note is that I am not getting any sense of duty towards the country from the Queen (or the King). The energy from the Queen is very much wanting to be comfortable and do what she wants, and trying to arrange things so this will happen and will continue after her husband's death, and that is it. There is no concern for the affect of her actions on the country; she is not even thinking about that and her attitude seems to be 'oh well, they can fix up the mess after I'm dead'. Her concern is focused on herself first and her family and husband second, and that is it.

Card Three: The Page of Swords

Pages are messages, and swords are thoughts/strategy/communications. This card is giving me the energy of social media and the internet - electronic communications. As we have seen, the King and the Queen are putting out a message of 'Everything is fine, no need for extra help, the King can still do his job and if he can't the Queen can do it for him'. That is the message that they want to go out to the world. Whether it is actually the truth is another matter entirely (Swords can be about strategies, and people lie to other people as part of a strategy all the time - also, King Charles has past form in lying to the general public to get what he wants). The last thing the King or Queen want is pressure from the public to have Prince William take over some of the duties of the monarchy to help out his father.

Underlying Energy: The Three of Wands

This is my card for the line of succession, the transfer of power within the BRF, regencies, and so on. Having it as an underlying energy confirms that the above cards are all about power and the transfer of power within the BRF.

The card shows Jason's uncle giving his crown to Jason, i.e. acknowledging Jason as the true king, but then the uncle sends Jason off to find the Golden Fleece, hoping he will be killed along the way. This tells me that even if King Charles does make a show of handing some functions over to his heir, there will be a trap involved and Prince William will be set up to fail if he takes on the offered duties.

This card is also giving me courtier vibes - King Charles and Queen Camilla may be fighting off the idea of a regency/handing over any of the monarch's duties to the heir, but I would not be surprised if the courtiers have plans in place for both an official regency and an unofficial transfer of power behind the scenes.

Conclusion:

King Charles does not want a regency in any way, shape, or form. Neither does he want to give up any of his powers to his heir, even for a temporary period while he recovers his health, although he has no problem sharing his powers with the Queen. The Queen is 100% behind him; he has all of her support on this matter.

Both of them seem to be driven in part or in whole by negative emotions towards the idea of Prince William in power - envy and/or jealousy on the part of the King, and fear on the part of the Queen (I can feel her fear as I write this. I can not stress this strongly enough - she is terrified of Prince William having any Kingly powers).

This determination to hold on to the position and power of the monarch is what is behind the PR that says the King is fine, he is working from home, the Queen is a great support to him etc.

While the King and the Queen are refusing to even discuss the issues, the courtiers may have quiet plans of their own - just in case.

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kelly-bands · 1 year

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summer: beach tennis & ice cream. ( CHLOE KELLY × READER )

one shot!

summary: You and Chloe Kelly are playing beach tennis, but you accidentally almost hit her.

note: i will probably do another summer fic after this one

"Fuck." You swore as you slid your digits on the sweat dripping from your forehead. It was hot as hell, but the natural wind managed to camouflage the heat hitting your body.

You and Chloe were on holiday, where you unanimously chose to spend the rest week in Bournemouth. The blonde decided to stay there on the beach, as it was one of her favorite places. It was late after lunch and the two of you were out on the sands of Bournemouth, having fun together.

The only difference was that Kelly wasn't on your side, but on the other side of the sand court.

Even if you were more worried about the sweat almost running into your eye, the sound of the ball being popped into the air drew your attention. The beach tennis ball barely arrived in your area and you dominated it with the racket, throwing it to the other side.

You were a few points behind the player, you weren't very used to playing beach games and you only started because of Chloe. The ball came back again, and this time you cut it, scoring a point.

" You've learned, finally." You could hear Kelly mocking from afar, but at the same time proud of your effort to learn to play beach tennis with her.

" Oh, don't fucking start. " You snapped. To be honest, the heat and losing were getting on your nerves; and Chloe needling you, was too.

On the other side, the only thing you heard coming out of those gorgeous lips was a stupid but cute laugh. You had no reason to be angry at losing, but at being scattered.

Playing beach tennis against Chloe Kelly boiled down to missing all the domains for spending more time enjoying that amazing fucking body worried about getting dirty with the sand.

Forget about it.

Focus. At. The. Fucking. Game.

The british returned the ball to you, it was your turn to serve. You served, the ball was stronger than the other serves you had done, but Kelly still managed to receive the ball. It quickly returned to your area, you took a few steps and threw her, pulling the racket up hard, going high the other way.

Shit. It will come with everything.

"Wait—!" You shout, surrendering and just watching Chloe jump and slash. The ball came with such force that you barely saw it. Ah, one more point for your girlfriend.

You hate to lose, you are a very competitive person. And that goes for Kelly, too. Both are competitive, you live challenging each other in any situation where there is this possibility (who drives better, who eats more or who scores more goals in the season). However, it was almost impossible to compete at Chloe's level, especially in a game you just learned.

" I thought you said you were going to take it easy on me. " You complained, at the same time reaching for the ball on the floor. Meanwhile, Kelly glared at you, not saying a word about it; just that stupid smirk on her face said it all.

" I thought you said earlier today that you were going to beat me, or rather, in your words, break me. " She returned seconds later, in the most egocentric and dry tone possible. Ah, that was one hell of a stab.

You just watched how stupid she could be when she wanted to be. This time, Chloe won. And anyone would have guessed that within seconds of you picking up that goddamn ball, getting close enough through the net divider, and throwing it with all your might at Kelly.

She managed to piss you off, and she loved seeing that in you.

But what you just did was off the charts.

Chloe defended herself by putting her racket in a shield position from the moment you crossed the court division, hitting the ball at your target. The ball was correctly aimed at the racket and dropped, and a heavy mood arrived on the court.

" Y/N… What the fuck? " The blonde asked, even knowing what answer you would give her. Kelly's brows furrowed, this was not what she was expecting.

" You're pissing me off, damn it." Correcting, you were already completely pissed off about everything. You threw the racket on the floor and sat down right there, stretching your legs and supporting your body with your hands.

Chloe abandoned the racket on the other side, crossed the court dodging the net, ducking. She slowly approached you, a little apprehensive after the whole situation. Kelly sat beside your legs stretched out, specifically facing you, crossing her legs in a butterfly position.

" I'm sorry. " Were the only words that it was possible to hear from the whisper of the blondie.

Chloe loves to piss you off, but she always stopped once you started ignoring her. " I'm going to stop being competitive with you, Y/N. " You could see Kelly's regretful expression in the middle of the words.

Oh, now you've won. You managed to make Chloe Kelly uncomfortable with your irritation.

And when Chloe is bothered, she always gives you the best excuses.

" You don't have to stop your competitive side, I love it. But, please don't be upsetting as a spoiled child. " You stated, accompanied by a playful tone. Kelly just opened a smile in response, going to caress one of your thighs.

Damn. Now you couldn't tell if it was the sand on your body or the player's hand that was tingling your skin. Your eyes moved to the woman's face, watching how this moron could fake such an action in the middle of the crowd. But that gesture ended when you stopped it by forcing your hand in over her fingers.

" I suppose that's not how you're going to earn my forgiveness, Chloe. " Actually, it was, if the two of you were in private. You whispered in grunts, as you were more concentrated preventing a heavy sigh from coming out as a result of her action.

"No? Then there is no other option! " She joked, you could tell by the giggle accompanied by the sentence. Kelly's eyes rolled, she removed her hand from your thighs.

It just clarified how you no longer knew how to differentiate which was the hotness of the moment, summer or Chloe Kelly.

Having lost the game, you wanted to make the british give a nice apology (like a kiss). You stood up, patted the sand stuck to the sweat on your body — which at this point, a few grains fell on Kelly, all this to pretend to leave. Both hands leaned on your waists, looking down at the woman before saying something.

"Good luck trying to get me to dispel that irritation. " It was almost a defiant tone. But deep down all that irritation was gone, to be honest, you didn't even want to be angry from the moment she walked up to you.

Chloe was silent for seconds, as if you were thinking of your best move to counter the challenge, and it made you, honestly, anxious.

Blue eyes lifted upward, trying to reach yours. What the fuck is Chloe Kelly planning?!

" Ice cream? " She asked genuinely.

What? Was that all?

You nodded in agreement, with a bit of indignation. Your head tilted to the side, after all, you expected a different attitude, like, what the fuck was that.

Where the fuck is the apology kiss?

You were positioned a few meters from the court, so you remained there under the umbrella, waiting for your girlfriend to return with the ice creams. Your eyes fell on the marked sand, where you two were sitting earlier. To be honest, you expected a kiss of apologies, like she always does when she pisses you off. In the end, you just were at ease.

" Did you really take it seriously...? " You asked muttering to yourself, while drawing randomly in the sand. A drop of guilt rose in your head after consciously thinking about your previous actions.

" No. " A sweet and gentle voice appeared behind you. It was impossible not to recognize your girlfriend's british accent.

You cracked a little smile after looking up and seeing her figure, Kelly was holding two ice creams, one strawberry and cherry and the other mint and chocolate. She passed by your side and sat there, propped up into you and passing you the mint ice cream. All of a sudden, you weren't even mad at her or whatever had gotten into you.

" They didn't have pineapple flavor, but you like mint too, so I took it. " Chloe spoke with such precision and certainty about the flavors. It was those little details that you loved most about Kelly, how she paid so much attention to the little details about you.

" Thank you. " You said it and left to taste the ice cream, which, by some chance, was the best thing in the world.

" You remembered. " Murmured beside Kelly.

" Hm? What? " She turned to face you, raising one of her eyebrows as she wiped her lips with her napkin.

" Of my two favorite flavors of ice cream. " You rested your head on the player's collarbone, taking more licks of the mint ice cream you held with your left hand, as with your right hand you slowly rested it on Chloe's thigh.

" Oh, that. " She whispered through the teeth of rabbits she had, returning to face the sandy floor.

" Whenever we went out to the ice cream parlors, you would ask for one of these two. " Kelly reminisced about all the times the two of you went out to the ice cream parlors on your days off.

" I'm sorry about before. It wasn't my intention…" You apologized, breaking the very challenge you'd committed yourself to. Your voice was as honest and sweet as an angel's. You lifted your head and turned enough to face your girlfriend. " I'll try to learn without accidentally trying to hit you. "

" You worry too much about this, Y/N. It's not like you're strong enough to hurt me, you know. " Chloe teased the difference in muscle and strength, which was pretty clear. "Forget about it. Finish the ice cream and then we'll start from scratch. " She took another taste of strawberry ice cream, which by some chance seemed to taste really good.

"Okay. Let me try some then." You pointed your eyes at Kelly's ice cream, but also at her lips. She immediately left her hand next to your mouth, waiting for you to satisfy your will.

" Not like that! " You stated, leaving Kelly confused.

sometimes don't forget that, deep down, the blondie is a bit of a slow person.

"Hm?" She raised an eyebrow. You pushed Chloe's hand, which was holding the ice cream, to the side. With free digits, you pulled her face close to yours, holding her cheek.

You glued your lips together with hers.

With the contact, the first thing you felt was the strawberry flavor passing into your mouth, creating a mix of flavors when you find the mint refreshment. You fit the kiss so well that Chloe was carried away by your domain, the lip meat had so many flavors that it was already impossible to describe. You could feel Kelly's bunny teeth nibble on your bottom lip, allowing you to let out a moan between your lips.

Kissing Chloe Kelly was always a new experience, your girlfriend always takes you to new imaginations, as if every time their lips touched, they were a portal to another dimension. And this time, the dimension was unique.

The only things you could feel were the mint and strawberry combo melting on your lips, Kelly's long fingers cupping your chin from the side and the unique sound of the waves crashing against each other. Thus, you were able to experience the strawberry flavor that you craved so much.

All of this was like having moths fluttering in your stomach. Kissing Chloe Kelly is therapy, is synonymous to ravaging bad feelings; and that's what happened.

The kiss was lasting, to the point that when they broke apart, your breathing was as heavy as that of an athlete who ran a hundred meters only once, unlike Chloe, who seemed to be used to it. To be honest, the breath wasn't the only reason to break the kiss; but the ice cream melting between your fingers.

"Oh, shit." You mumbled, running your tongue over your fingers after the mess the ice cream made on your hand. After cleaning up, your eyes landed on Kelly's face as she finished eating her ice cream.

What the fuck Chloe.

That really surprised you. You guys just had a great kiss and all she cared about was the ice cream? She hasn't even said anything yet.

Chloe pulled the napkin that was left over from her own portion and took it to the corners of your lips, wiping them; minty mints. You left, freely, as you stared at her, waiting for some response.

"Did you like it?" Kelly asked after a silence of minutes, still wiping your lips.

" Of what, exactly?" It was an extremely empty question, because after all, you loved everything.

" The strawberry, you asked to try it. " Ah, sure, the genuine Chloe Kelly way. You nodded in agreement as you felt the napkin being finished. " Great, next time we try different flavors. " The british woman crumpled her napkin, and soon got up.

It was all happening so fast that you didn't even understand what Kelly wanted to do. Suddenly, she held her hand out in front of you.

" What...?" You looked up, while with a confused expression, you still managed to admire Chloe's beautiful face.

Internally, Kelly was so looking forward to the kiss that she didn't know exactly what her next actions would be; like a child lost inside a toy store.

The only difference between the two of you was that Chloe Kelly was very good at faking those emotions.

" Let's go. You have to learn to play beach tennis today. " She murmured, opening a sweet smile. "If you beat me, I'll let you taste other flavors in my mouth."

Fuck.

Your heart raced so fast, the unwillingness to play with Chloe was suddenly gone. Her sentence doesn't match the woman Kelly was hours ago, as if now, she was free to say anything. You rested your fingers on your girlfriend's hand to get up.

Now you had reason to compete with Chloe Kelly.

#chloe kelly imagine #chloe kelly x reader #chloe kelly #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso soccer

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sgiandubh · 11 months

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This is not a political post

One more time, in caps and bold: THIS IS NOT A POLITICAL POST. But if I can, as a diplomat and a historian, bring some extra context and try and understand what happened today in S's world, so be it. Enough said about me.

I am fumbling with a ton of thoughts since this morning, when this link was shared with me by one of the closest people in my platoon:

In a nutshell: S signed that (in)famous letter, an initiative of APUK (Artists for Palestine UK), a network that's been operating since 2015. You can read it in full if you open the link and I suggest you do. You will soon find out that the letter, while correctly pointing out the atrocious gesture of bombing a civilian hospital in Gaza, asked the world's governments to 'end their military and political support for Israel’s actions'. Nowhere in that letter did the word Hamas appear, which would immediately point out as supporting what is a terrorist movement that is, alas, also part and parcel of the Palestinian government, under Mahmoud Abbas's weak, irrelevant aegis. The man is an old PLO/Fatah crone: fishy, ineffective and fairly corrupted. His position on the Holocaust is, to be elegant, a study in ambiguity. Enough said.

It is pointless and absurd to try and explain the whole situation in detail. I would have to go back at least to the Balfour Declaration (1919) or the no less infamous end of the British/LoN/UN Palestine Mandate (1948), if I wanted to simply scratch the surface of a subject that is everywhere these days. With an intensity of absolutely legitimate emotions that can simply not be measured by any counter on this planet, as we speak.

But the facts are here, and naïve S had no damn idea: 500 civilians were killed, Tuesday night, in the bombing of the al-Ahli Baptist/Arab Hospital in Gaza City. Hullaballoo ensued on a cataclysmic scale: first, Hananya Naftali, a digital aide to Benjamin Netanyahu recklessly wrote on X that the "Israeli army [Tsahal] bombed a Hamas terrorist base inside a hospital in Gaza". Then erased the tweet. Several video collages released by the Tsahal, the first of which was heavily contested by a NYT journalist (and former Bellingcat researcher) Aric Toler, point out towards the PIJ (Palestinian Islamic Jihad)'s forces being responsible for the strike.

These quotes from an Al Jazeera paper sum up the ensuing scandal better than I ever could - selected by me, but you can and probably should read it all (https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2023/10/18/what-is-israels-narrative-on-the-gaza-hospital-explosion):

No craters mean no airstrike and most probably a rocket failure. The uneasiness remained, that being said, at the highest level. And the planned US-Egypt-Jordan- Palestine talks hosted by Amman were abruptly called off hours before Biden landed in Tel Aviv.

To cut the story short: the letter is right to point out that you just don't bomb hospitals when you are at war, as per the terms of the Fourth 1949 Geneva Convention, dealing with the protection of civilians in times of war. Both Israel (signed in 1949/ratified in 1951) and Palestine (2014) are, as parties and signatories, legally bound by it, in the eyes of International Law. The only problem with it is that it purposefully omits to put things into context (whodunnit) and forgets the cynical truth: Hamas keeps hundreds of innocent Israelis and two millions of innocent Gaza civilians as its hostages.

Article 18 is at the core of the matter:

The last thing S should have done is to sign that fucking treacherous letter, without getting a second (third, fourth...) opinion.

S is a good man, we all know and love this about him. He is also one of the most naïve people I have ever seen in this lifetime. This is why his final reaction really, really moved this cynic, here:

I am taking this home and keep it. It deeply moved me (yes, me):

" I don't know nearly enough and trying to educate myself on the conflicts in the Middle East. I feel helpless and wish I could help in some way.'

I am sure 'someone nice' called and 'nicely asked", maybe even offered some scarce and biased details, to prompt an impulse signature. I am also sure S didn't read the letter himself. There is no harm saying you were wrong. He did it with dignity and grace - no, it was not easy.

This is a man of worth speaking. Bravo!

But for the love of all that's holy, Sir: don't you ever step into this kind of shit again. These things are far more complex than you could ever fathom and it's a very cynical world out there. Leave it to us, we are handsomely paid for it by our governments. I hear you and I am completely supporting this more than welcome withdrawal. It's not worth much, for sure. But it is an honest POV.

Also, John 8:7:

So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.

Kindly refrain from politics in your comments. Let's not drag trash where it should not be, ever. Thank you all.

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personwhowrites · 1 year

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TF141 reaction to reader doing a russian reload?

This is really hilarious to me because I done bots for character ai on Ghost, Price and König reacting to you doing the Russian reload. Anywho!

John Captain Price

Price didn’t see it at first, he thought nothing of it until you did it again. It clearly surprised him, he wasn’t never told you had Russian roots.

He does question you, like a lot. Price develops this trust issue, since he has been through a lot already and that added to it. Price does try to maintain calm near you but finds it impossible knowing you might be hiding other things from him and the team.

If you are a Russian spy he would immediately turn you in. No questions asked, he can’t risk the men on his team. It would be hard for him to come to terms you were a spy. Someone that couldn’t be trusted, over so much bonding time.

If you weren’t a Russian spy but somehow How knew how to reload the guns like that. price would take you out the habit and make sure you never do it again. If you do, he slightly lectures you.

“Y/n.. please know I’m doing this for your own good.” Price says, his hands on his hips. “It’s has to.. reload like that. Especially in abase with a British and Americans here..”

“Sorry..”

Kyle Gaz Garrick

Kyle, well he knew something was off about you the moment you stepped into the base. Your form to do this seemed out of place to be British, your accent was.. too strong. More forced than Ghost, Price and himself. He didn’t want to tell anyone when he saw you reload the gun.

Kyle wasn’t sure if he saw it correctly, but finally managed to talk to you. Started to ask you, pressure you into answering if you were Russian. Having a past with Russians he starts to feel off of around you, Kyle starts making big distance between you and him. Price catches on and asks Kyle what’s happening.

Kyle rats you out to price, which he felt bad about. He didn’t want to make your life hell, for you to be locked up in an interrogation room. If you did turn out to be Russian spy all that guilt would go away, immediately.

If you weren’t Russian and you just had a habit of reloading your guns he would feel terrible. To the point he would apologize none stop, when you two crossed paths. He would try to help you out to get out the habit of reloading guns like that. Kyle wanted to make sure no one else made the same mistake he did.

“..Y/n Im so sorry it’s just.”. Kyle pauses and takes a deep breath. “I.. assume you were..”

“..It’s okay..” You reply patting his arm. “We can later look back at this and have a good laugh..”

John Soap Mactavish

Soap would be minding his own business in the firing range. He didn’t expect less or more from you, Soap never really payed attention to anything. Yet that one day he did, he saw you reload. It wasn’t just a silly mistake, oh no no you fully reloaded every single time the same.

Soap would waste no time and handcuff you with zip ties. He would embarrase you by dragging you out, saying ‘got myself a Russian.’ Little did he know those words would he the death of your career. Price would take you away for interrogation, Soap would try to go in the room to see you but Price wouldn’t let him.

If you were a Russian spy he would feel some sort of guilt for exposing you. All that joke turned out to be true, and now he is torn between being glad he caught you or.. sad that he did.

If you weren’t a Russian spy and like the past others told them that you have a habit or reloading guns like that. My guy.. he would feel like the worst leader/Sargent, he almost ruined your career before even asking you why you reloaded like that. He would do anything opening doors for you, giving you small gifts/candy to make up for his mistakes.

“..Y/n Im so sorry..” Soap says shaking his head. “I should have asked instead of..”

“It’s okay.. I suppose..” You mumble and sigh. “I don’t like mint chocolate..”

Simon Ghost Riley

Ghost always had this suspicion of you, when he saw you reload the gun. He immediately has all his suspicions confirmed. Like soap he didn’t waste no time, he put zip ties on your wrist and dragged you to Price office. Ghost felt disgusted knowing you been lying and possibly have been a rat on their missions.

Ghost always has a grudge against you. The others didn’t know why, but as soon as he told them what you did. It clicked, Ghost guy has been telling you were bad news to the base, possibly a rat. He didn’t even bother to let you explain yourself. Ghost would be the one that interrogate you, no questions asked.

If you were a Russian spy, he would have to hold his anger back. Knowing his gut was right, and him rejecting it. Price would have to take him out the room and let yourself turn yourself in. Ghost wouldn’t even want you to live at the point, all he saw red..

If you weren’t a Russian spy he would deny it. Ghost wouldn’t drop it all, forcing you take a lie detector test over and over. Until he finally saw you were telling the truth. Ghost after that would put a lot of distance between the two of you. He hated that he almost harmed you, almost made you break under his ways. Ghost wouldn’t apologize in any way, he would just.. stare at you for long periods of times regretting his mistake.

#cod fandom #simon ghost riley #cod #cod fanfic #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod x you #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain price #cod soap #captain john price #cod ghost #john price #cod gaz #cod price #Simon ghost

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 4 months

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I often wonder what was that one particular thing, ingredient X, if you may, that made Harry succumb to Meghan in June 2016?

I understand that he had psychological trauma from his mums death, from his dad's bourgeois parenting style, from the very fact that he was Windsor male for that matter. I also agree that he is quite simple minded, so now in hind sight we can say he is increasingly motivated by resentment towards his perfect brother, his own greed and need for adulation etc. But back in 2016, he was on a good path. Settling into his job. Enjoying the perks of his popularity. And it's safe to assume that both William and Harry, were used to the fact that women threw themselves at them both. So they also had some sense to know that not everyone had good intentions.

It's also been speculated that Harry did meet Meghan a year before in 2015, at Soho Istanbul (according to many bloggers). And may even have met her in 2014 at Miami (according to Shauna, Vintage Reads). So he had enjoyed her company and still evaded her clothes then.

And not just her, he probably had come into contact with many wannabes who he hooked up with and managed to shake off.

So why 2016? When everything seemed to be going so well for him? His family circle was fairly well grounded. He had an independent profile of his own royal work. He had a good team and loyal, competent staff. He had a great, extensive friend circle. He could have anything and anyone he wanted. He seemed nice, engaged with people, showed empathy and some commonsense when out and about. So I am so perplexed as to how and why, that "blind date" at Soho in May/June/July/whenever led to his spectacular downfall.

I know this isn't really the blog or the platform where we can psychoanalyse Harry correctly and succinctly. But it's just a question that I'm fascinated by. In 3 years, he lost every single thing he had - his family, his relationships, his work, his friends, his honour, his glory, his legacy, his prospects at any royal relevance. How were mental defences so down, so ineffective, how was he so walled-in into his trauma that he had no chance at being saved? It sure couldn't be as simple as greed for more money or a Hollywood lifestyle?

And let's be honest, Meghan isn't that great a catch where someone like him would just lay down everything at her feet and be like "here queen, feed on my guts, eat my flesh raw". Urghhh

I'm so confused and so perplexed.

All of Harry's friends and cousins were getting married and settling down in 2015/2016. That's a lot of peer pressure and expectations on him, even if it wasn't overt and directly applied.

And when everyone around you is coupling up, settling down, getting married, and having babies, that can give you beer goggles because now you're rushing through relationships to catch up with them. We've all seen it happen in our own friend groups, I'm sure. I've got a few friends who were so bothered by being in their 30s without partners and families while the rest of their friends are planning weddings and having babies that they marry the first guy who shows interest. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn't.

That seems to be what happened to Harry. Everyone was settling down. He was feeling left out. So he met someone that suited his needs, said "to hell with the rest" and married her ASAP.

And also this: "He could have anything and anyone he wanted." isn't true. He wasn't getting the girls he wanted. He wanted someone like Kate - pretty, British, media-trained, from a good family, and well-off - and all those girls were staying far, far away from him. They knew what he was really like behind closed doors; needy, paranoid, cheap (he once made Cressida buy her own plane ticket for a trip he had invited her on), and heavily partying. The 'anyone he wanted' that Harry was going after wasn't into that.

Also, anon - if you haven't already, you might want to give Tom Bower's Revenge a read. Specifically Chapter 13, "A Troubled Prince," has a little bit of psychoanlysis of Harry that you might enjoy.

#sussexes #theories

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eretzyisrael · 9 months

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A firm called WPA Intelligence did a survey of American voters asking various questions about whether they want a ceasefire in Gaza and other things.

But one question say volumes about how little liberal - and supposedly educated - Americans know about the conflict they are so eager to opine about.

67% of Democrats agreed with the statement that “a sovereign Arab country named Palestine used to exist where Israel is presently located.”

Two out of three Democrats don't know this basic fact. For Republicans, 55% thought the statement was false. For all American voters, the results were about 50/50, which is disheartening on its own.

Older respondents tended to answer the question correctly, while 68% of those ages 18-34 got it wrong.

But the percentage of people altogether who believe the lie is not at all correlated to education. 57% of those with a high school or lower education, 58% of those with some college education, 54% of those with a bachelor's degree and 56% of those with a postgraduate degree believed this fiction of an independent Palestinian state.

This is a damning indictment of the US educational system.

Another survey question is relevant. When asked, without context, whether they supported a ceasefire in Gaza. 70% said they do.

Then the survey told them that this means that a ceasefire would mean that the hostages would not be released. Suddenly, 20% of those who supported the ceasefire switched sides. (But 70% of Democrats still support a ceasefire without Hamas being defeated and without the hostages being returned.)

Now, imagine if the people surveyed knew about Hamas' promise that October 7 was just the beginning, and the terror group intended to mount much deadlier attacks "again and again" until Israel is destroyed - a story that did not get nearly as much publicity as the daily reports of civilian deaths in Gaza. There would be another large shift against a ceasefire when people get an inkling of what the conflict is really about and how depraved Hamas is.

The 70% who say they support a ceasefire are the same 70% who know nothing about the history, the facts, the context.

The people who are the most informed tend to side with Israel.

The corollary to this is that the people who hate Israel will do everything they can to misrepresent the facts and lie about the conflict in order to get people on their side.

People learn about the conflict not from school but from social media, from TikTok and YouTube, from loud and obnoxious anti-Israel activists who are committed to lie and misrepresent the issues. And it shows.

The media isn't helping matters because most journalists are at least passively anti-Israel and their coverage will minimize real facts, history and context and emphasize Palestinian victimhood.

If you think that Israel replaced a Palestinian state, of course you would be anti-Israel. This is exactly why so many social media posts represent British Mandate currency as if it was from a nation named "Palestine" and people named "Palestinian." The coin suggests a story, the reality shows the opposite, and a lot of people don't want the people to know the reality.

#wpa intelligence #hamas #gaza #survey #israel #country of palestine

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anghraine · 5 months

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dontstandmedown replied to this post:

re:tags could you share the playwright you're talking about? :0

No problem! For others, the tags in question are this:

#thinking about this partly because the softer & gentler versions of fanfic discourse keep crossing my dash #and partly because i've written like 30 pages about a playwright i adore who was just not very good at 'original fiction' as we'd define it #both his major works are ... glorified rpf in our context but splendid tragedies in his #and the idea of categorizing /anything/ in that era by originality of conception rather than comedy/tragedy/etc would be buckwild

I am always delighted to share the good news of John Webster! If you're not familiar with him, he was an early seventeenth-century English playwright known for being a slow, painstaking, but reliable writer. He did various collaborations with other playwrights (and acknowledges a bunch of his peers in an author's note to The White Devil, including Jonson and Shakespeare) and wrote some middling plays in various genres that could be more or less termed "original fiction," but he's remembered for two brilliant, bloody tragedies.

The basic premises/plots of both of these were essentially ripped from the headlines of the previous century, and Webster makes zero attempt to conceal that fact.

I couldn't shut up about my guy so more under a cut!

The White Devil is based on the actual murder of Vittoria Accoramboni in the late sixteenth century and the characters in the play are generally given the same or similar names as the real life people in the story as known at the time, so there's no attempt to conceal the play's origins (the anti-heroine/villain???[debatable] is named Vittoria Corombona in the play, for instance).

The original production of The White Devil largely failed, which Webster blamed mainly on bad weather and an audience who just didn't get his ~vision and what he was trying to do. It would not be unsurprising for a contemporary audience to struggle with it given that it's a complicated play in which, among other things, Vittoria is put on trial and rhetorically shreds the underlying misogyny of the entire legal process.

The Duchess of Malfi, generally considered a still greater achievement, is based directly on the murder of Giovanna d'Aragona, Duchess of Amalfi by her brothers (it was presumed, likely correctly). Lope de Vega also wrote a play about this tragedy not long before Webster did, though the plays are very different and it's unlikely that Webster would have had the time or linguistic knowledge necessary to read Lope's version. Probably part of the reason for the differences between Lope's and Webster's takes is that Lope had to be careful about the reception by the Catholic Church given that one of the murderers was a cardinal, while obviously an English Protestant like Webster could say whatever he wanted about eeeeevil cardinals.

Webster takes a lot of artistic license, a normal approach at the time to adapting previously-established narratives, but the source material is very recognizable. One of the commendatory verses at the beginning of the play (blurbs in poetic form from other playwrights) is like "I'm sure the real duchess was cool but she couldn't be as cool as Webster's heroine, wow <3". (One of the other commendations is by another fave of mine, John Ford.)

Bosola, the historically mysterious minion of the Duchess's murderous brothers (=Bozolo in the historical narrative) gets an elaborate quasi-redemption arc in the play. And the play is extremely critical of various characters' obsession with and attempts to control the Duchess's sexual behavior (a fixation that is often extremely normalized in early modern British drama, but which comes off really badly here).

Ultimately this obsessiveness leads to her brothers, the Cardinal (=the historical Cardinal Luigi d'Aragona) and Ferdinand (=Carlo d'Aragona) orchestrating her torment and murder in which she emerges with her sanity and integrity intact and dies with dignity. Meanwhile, the Cardinal is exposed as a remorseless villain (he proceeds to murder his mistress with a Bible) and Ferdinand's already-shaky sanity snaps under the realization of what he's done.

Webster's Duchess is often considered the first real female tragic hero in British drama—the tragic is especially significant because tragedy was typically considered a higher art form than comedy and the truly great female characters from that era of drama are often restricted to comedies or secondary roles in tragedy (a marked trend in Shakespeare, for instance). The Duchess in the play is virtuous, strong-willed, witty, and fairly unabashedly sexual in the context of the time, a concept that several hundred years of critics have struggled with. (My favorite OTT complaint is from Martin Sampson, an early 20th century critic who lamented the conspicuous absence of a "strong active man, following righteous things" in Webster's work, to which I say l m a o.)

Anyway, among scholars of early modern British drama, Webster is often considered second only to Shakespeare as a tragedian, on the basis of those two plays. And the modern obsession w/ originality and novelty makes this kind of fascinating, given that his "original" work (in our sense—again, the original vs fanfic dichotomy was not a thing in that cultural context) is sort of meh but his work with pre-existing sources turns them into these staggering dramatic achievements.

#dontstandmedown #respuestas #renaissance blogging #john webster #the white devil #the duchess of malfi #anghraine's meta #ivory tower blogging #gender blogging #long post #i love vittoria and the duchess and also how pissy he is about people complaining about his slow writing #'yeah well that's what mediocre rapid content generators said to EURIPIDES and who do people remember now? THINK ABOUT IT'#okay okay i'll stop with My Guy but. he's pretty cool.

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resurrectionist3 · 3 months

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June 6th, 1755 - Happy Birthday Nathan Hale!!!

We are gonna pretend like this isn’t several days late.

And this post is about to be super long…

Disclaimer: for the entirety of the post, I’m recalling information that was told to me by the tour guide from the Nathan Hale Homestead. If anything I wrote here is incorrect or not complete information, feel free to KINDLY correct me in a comment or repost, I would appreciate that☺️

Back in May (05/18/24), I visited the Nathan Hale Homestead in Coventry, Connecticut with my sister!!

I always drive by it when I go home from school and I finally got to visit for a tour! They also have a farmers market on grounds in the summertime as well as a couple other events throughout the year. I do hope i get to attend their Halloween ghost stories.

One thing i learned that i guess i didn’t ever realise was that Nathan never actually lived in this house. After his mother passed, Nathan’s father, Deacon Richard Hale and all 9(?) of his children lived together in a very, very small house. It wasnt until after Richard was remarried, that this newer and larger house was built. By this point, i believe Nathan had already moved away to be a teacher in New London.

Here are photos of their medicine cabinet and their fireplace✨

Photos of their piano forte in the sitting room and a drawn family tree.

And this was Deacon Richard Hale’s writing desk. If I remember correctly, he was a deacon in the church and a magistrate. He dealt with small court disputes in their house which I found very silly (and the wax stamp had an H on it idk why that made me die😭)

And here, in one of the upstairs rooms, they displayed artist renditions of what we think Nathan Hale and his brothers looked like. I think Nathan had 9 (?) biological siblings that survived to adulthood, one of which being his sister Johanna. And then i believe he had 3 step siblings after his father remarried (im trying to recall everything the tour guide said).

Johanna isnt depictied in these drawings, its only the brothers, but her room was on display for the tour and it had a lot of windows. The tour guide said it was because she apparently loved to read, so they made sure her room had the most windows for the most light??😭😭🥹🥹

Anyways, all of Nathan’s brothers went to war except for the youngest one. Also, if you look at the years of their deaths, Samuel Hale (the oldest sibling) actually outlived them all?? Which makes me want to scream???? Samuel also didn’t inherit the family farm, it actually went to his brother John.

Joseph Hale- (damn he can get it lowkey..🥵) while in the war was captured by the British and was on a prison ship until he was exchanged and honestly I’ve been thinking about it too much. So glad he didn’t die of dysentery or something. But he did pass of consumption at only 34 which I can’t even handle.

Enoch, went to Yale along with Nathan and they were in the same graduating class which i think is so cutesy. The tour guide also said that one of the pewter steins in one of the sitting rooms (i don’t actually have a photo unfortunately) belonged to Enoch and I wanted to scream, like was it ACTUALLY his???

They had a display of several items they found on the property like coins, buttons, ect. but I didn’t take a photo of that either. It was in the same room as these images of the brothers.

I think we all know Nathan, and quite honestly i didn’t even realise he had so many siblings until this tour. I suppose one could assume given the time period - everyone had like 5+ children. But of all the times i was taught about Nathan Hale (and that was kind of a lot, being a Connecticut resident for my entire life) no one ever mentioned his family or his siblings. There was a portrait of Deacon Richard Hale in the downstairs area- I didn’t realise this in the moment, my sister mentioned it later, but (based on the artist’s rendition) Nathan looked just like his father. I found it really funny when i realised it.

This was Nathan’s hunting rifle as well, another thing that apparently belonged to one of the members of the Hale family that made me want to scream (more on that in my final thoughts).

And last photo (the Turn: Washington’s Spies baddies are gonna LOVE this one)

This is a list of the Yale University (back then, it was just Yale College) honours graduating class of 1773. On it, is Nathan and Enoch Hale of course. But also, Nathan’s friend and “roommate” 👀 (and our favourite spymaster) Benjamin Tallmadge!!!!! I had to keep my mouth shut when the tour guide mentioned that he was on this list, but I was screaming internally and my sister and i made goofy ahh eye contact.

Their names are towards the top, Enoch and Nathan are listed in the third small column while Benjamin is in the sixth one all the way to the right.

Things that i saw/were talked about that i didn’t take a photo of was a shadow drawing of Nathan’s side profile. At some point, Nathan stood in front of a door in the house while someone traced the outline of his shadow onto it. I don’t quite know why that was done..? Perhaps it was for a genuine reason or maybe the Hale siblings were just messing around. But it’s a pretty big deal considering there are actually no true portraits of Nathan or his siblings. Just statues and drawings that are artist renditions based on historical accounts. There was a historian who wrote about Nathan Hale and came in contact with a member of the Hale family (Rebecca Hale, I believe). She told him about the shadow drawing and it was a long and interesting story that I unfortunately don’t remember all the parts to. A piece about the portrait is typed on a paper in the photo of Nathan’s rifle, if you can zoom in, you can read a little more on it.

Their gift shop was also small and cutesy and I spent a lot of money there on books. On display there, they had an old piece of wood from the original house. I got a published copy of Reverend John Hale’s, A Modest Inquiry into the Nature of Witchcraft.

If anyone wasn’t aware, Reverend John Hale (Nathan Hale’s great grandfather) was called to Salem, Massachusetts from Beverly to assist in the Salem Witch Trials in 1692. He was partially responsible for the persecution of several innocent people however, nearing the end of the trials, he began to disagree with the accusations. He published this firsthand account to condemn the actions of those involved with the trials and I’ve always thought it was so interesting. I’ve wanted to read this since I read The Crucible back in high school and i was very excited to see it at the gift shop.

You can also visit the Hale Farm in Beverly, MA where Rev. John Hale used to live and I want to someday. I’ve only ever been outside of it, I’ve never properly visited for a tour. (Cutesy fact as well: Rev. John’s Hale’s birthday is June 3rd, which is only 3 days before Nathan’s).

Final Thoughts:

The Hale Family was absolutely MASSIVE. Our tour guide mentioned being a descendant of the Hale Family and im sure a number of “born and raised” New England residents are as well somewhere in their ancestry. Based on the drawn family tree, most of the members had probably 4 kids minimum and then those kids all had a ton of kids. It’s also very funny to me how there are probably several Hale’s who are decently significant figures in history and it’s just wild that it’s all one family. I know it’s the same for royal families and such but it feels different somehow.

According to our tour guide, one theory about how Nathan Hale was captured was by Robert Rogers. That Rogers invited him to dinner and convinced Nathan that he was also part of the Continental Army. Nathan then confided his mission in Rogers and was lured into a false sense of security that lead to him being captured. Which is another one for the Turn baddies that almost made me die when I heard it. Especially since I don’t believe I’ve heard that theory before.

Something I did really enjoy about this tour was how it didn’t completely focus on Nathan. Of course that would have been fine and equally as interesting, but it was mainly a lesson on his family and some of his descendants. After being taught about Nathan Hale so many times, I had no idea about his entire family and his siblings.

It also never TRULY occurred to me that there aren’t any real portraits of Nathan Hale. They’ve all been artist renditions as paintings or statues based on historical descriptions of him and something about that is extremely wild to me. It makes me somewhat grateful for our easy access to camera and video in our modern world. There are so many faces and stories that have been completely lost to time - even some very significant historical figures have little to no surviving images. Like, we know who they are and that they were here at some point - we have their belongings and things that they used. Thats why seeing Nathan’s rifle in the bedroom or Enoch’s stein in the sitting room cause me to have such visceral reactions. This was theirs once. This was used by someone probably everyday. And now its almost like a ghost or memory of them. The land around the property is heavily wooded as well, lots of trees and stones. My sister and I took a short walk around the property before leaving and it really made me think: how many of these stones did they touch? How many of these large trees did they lean on? It drives me so insane honestly.

One last thing that hadn’t occurred to me before this trip was how the Hale family learned of Nathan’s hanging. According to the tour guide, Enoch and a couple his brothers had heard of a Hale being found guilty of espionage and being hanged. And after looking into it more, Enoch did confirm that it was Nathan and sent word to the rest of the family. It’s said that before being hanged, Nathan only asked for a few things: A priest (which he did not get), parchment, quill and ink for writing. He wrote a letter to his commanding officer and one to his family. According to the guide, i believe neither one was sent. Perhaps the one to the officer was sent, however he never received it because he was killed in battle before he had the chance. And allegedly, the one written to the Hale family was seized by the British and was likely used as a written confession rather than being sent home to Nathan’s family. I honestly can’t imagine how upsetting that must’ve been for all of them. Especially with each of the Hale brothers being in the war and likely all in different places, there wasn’t really any other way for them to find out that their own brother was hanged aside from the way everyone else learned of it - through the newspaper or by word of mouth. No other Hale brother died in the war either, they all survived and had relatively high rankings by the time the war was over.

~~~

So that was my trip, it was fun and informative and I would really love to visit again sometime. I highly recommend anyone who is a fan of history, or Turn: Washington’s Spies to visit if you can! They are only open seasonally though, and only on weekends. They do a tour every hour, so plan accordingly if you want to visit!

#amrev #turn amc #george washington #ben tallmadge #nathan hale #hale homestead #coventry #Connecticut #american revolution #turn washington's spies #abe woodhull #caleb brewster #hale family #hamilton #american history #historical #1700s #new england

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