#this only got two notes i am outraged

[norrizzandpia]

hey 🧡 could you please do one with lando where you two just have that very special connection. you’re dating for years already and just became each others home / safe place and everyone around you can see? x

The words of this request are so cute like i love it

Also i ended up merging this with the ski trip 🤭 and a proposal bc what other way to best depict two people being incredibly in love than a proposal?? 😍 (i just want to marry Lando Norris)

Ski Trips and Smiles (LN4)

Summary: Lando and Y/n had been planning this ski trip with their friends for months, so she knows everything on the itinerary. Well, at least, she thinks she does.

Warnings: language, yn falling into snow, yn not being able to snowboard, max being a weepy baby

Note: the one time im in a marriage mood bc i watched the bachelorette

Lando’s hand shook slightly as it rested in his pocket, clutching the black suede box that he had quadruple-checked was with him before they left the house. He didn’t know what he was doing, crazed and manic in love with the woman beside him. She was asleep, head on his shoulder as the plane moved along, quiet and tranquil because of its privacy.

Max sat across from him, eyeing his best friend as droplets of sweat began to form at the top of his head.

“You okay?” He whispered, gaze shifting to the girl beside Lando, the girl who had been in their lives for six years.

Lando nodded, albeit hesitantly, “Yeah, fine.”

Max’s eyebrows furrowed together, “Really? Because the sweat stains on your shirt say otherwise. It’s like sixty degrees in here, mate.”

The Brit’s eyes shifted to catch his shirt, the material soaked through around his chest and armpits. His eyes widened, “Oh shit. Fuck. How do I fix this? She’ll know something’s up.”

Max shook his head with a teasing smile on his face, “Don’t say anything, but I figured this would happen. I packed some quadrant shirts from the new line in my backpack for you. I can get one right now if you want?”

Lando breathed a sigh of relief, “Max, holy shit, thank you. Thank you. But, no. I’ll wait a few hours. Until it gets closer to her waking up. I don’t want to sweat through the new ones too.”

Max hummed in agreement, letting silence take the moment once more.

However, the boy felt sympathy for Lando, the nervousness that was clearly wracking his body at the impending ask, so he tried to reassure him, “Lando, you have got to chill, mate. It’s going to be fine. She’s going to say yes.”

Lando’s frantic eyes bounced around, “But, what if she doesn’t? What if I’ve built this all up in my head and she actually doesn’t want to marry me. I’d rather be her boyfriend for the rest of my life than take a chance and ask her to be my wife and have her leave me.”

Max chuckled, “Sometimes, I wish you could see yourself in other people’s eyes. You’d take one look at yourself right now and immediately talk about how outrageous and ridiculous you sound. You two have been together for six years, Lando. Six years. Let that sink in. Six birthdays, six Christmases, a multitude of times she’s been there for you, 130 Grand Prix, an overwhelming amount of time spent building you back up after racing took you down. She’s been a constant. You know that, Lando. You’ve lived through it. This is just making all that permanent.”

Lando moved his head to stare at her sleeping face, her closed eyes and slowly rising chest making his heart fill with a specific kind of love he had only ever felt for her, and smiled softly, “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course, I am.” Max gave, laughing airily.

Lando’s hand came to cradle her head, nudging it toward his mouth so he could plant his lips in her hair, whispering, “Maybe you’ll be right.”

—

Her laughing could be heard in the distance as Lando continued to ski toward her. Her head was face planted in the snow, hands messily placed beside her with her foot shoved in the snow, and, even with all the cold she was most likely feeling, the contagious sound filtered through the air and imprinted itself under Lando’s skin. Whether he got chills from the cool temperatures or the sound of her, he didn’t know. He would like to think it was her, though.

Lando rounded around her body, coming to a complete stop with snow spraying behind him as he fell to the ground.

“Y/n! Are you hurt?” His hands, covered in gloves, gently moved her body to sit up, a smile still gracing her face after the accident.

Her cheeks were flushed as she looked up at him with a mischievous grin and Lando was sure his heart stopped beating. Her beauty was a kind that was subtle, not truly reaching its full potential until she was laughing or smiling and only then blowing you away with such vigor, it took the air from your lungs. Sparkles in her eyes and soft features, Lando always felt a soft kind of feeling burst within him whenever she blessed him with her gaze. He remembered the first time he caught her sight. She had been a vision in a red dress at the gala his dad had forced him to go to. He remembered watching her as she floated across the floor, wondering how someone who looked his age could act with such elegance, and being completely enamored with the woman she already was at 18. He was obsessed, unwilling to look away, and when she looked back, he learned what it was like to be truly awestruck. Suddenly, she had grown shy under their staring and, when he approached her, the two of them had been a bundle of stuttering nerves. Lando later learned that the change in her demeanor was because of her already knowing his name at that point, already having a crush on him. He found it cute then and he still did now as she looked at him with the same light eyes she did that night. The same gaze she shot him every night, everyday, and every moment since they got together those six years before.

“No,” She shook her head at him, waving her hand in his face as she tried to get back on her feet. When she plopped back down, he laughed at her, apologizing quickly after when she looked at him like a lost puppy. He stood up before her, looming over her sprawled out body before bending his knees and reaching out for her arms. His strong, large hands clutched her biceps as he hoisted her off the ground, pulling her into him and successfully getting her to a stand.

Their skis clanged together at their feet, but the noise didn’t interrupt him from leaning down and pecking her cold lips. He smiled under her reciprocated kisses, blushing over her affection and providing some sense of warmth for their smashed-together faces. They stayed kissing each other sweetly off to the side of the run, wrapped in the other’s arms and completely removed from the world around them. That was typically how it was for them, alone in their own world and completely enthralled with the other.

Six years and that had never changed.

And Lando hoped that wouldn’t change for the rest of their lives.

“Oil! Stop fucking on the ski run!” Max screamed as he passed them, goggles on as he zoomed past. Lando moved his head to the side, giving his girlfriend a perfect view of his stellar jawline.

He yelled back, still tangled in her arms, “Shut up! Thank you!”

Y/n giggled at the two best friends, still surprised at some points by their antics.

He returned to her, head tilted down to lovingly gaze upon her, “How about we finish this run and then we can go back to the lodge? Maybe get a drink or two?”

His eyebrows wobbled, she knew what he meant, and she was quick to hit his chest, “Lando! We are with your friends. They are literally staying in the same room with us.”

He scoffed, “There’s a door! It’s like Max’s and I’s old apartment. We used to fuck in my room all the time.”

She rolled her eyes, “That was different.”

“Why?”

He hardened his gaze at her, challenging the argument she was clearly losing. He smiled triumphantly when she huffed his arms and wiggled out of his hold, “Fine! If you make it down to the end before me, we can go at it!”

His jaw fell open as she began to ski away, giggles ensuing and a sound that echoed in his ear even after she was out of hearing range. When he became unvexed by the sounds he adored to a concerning level, he pushed off and began racing down the hill.

When he passed her, he just smiled knowingly at her and thought of the things they would get up to that night.

—

The rooftop of the hotel was filled with bustling adults, glasses clanking together as people joined in boisterous conversation. Lando’s arm around her waist and his whispers in her ear, Y/n felt the love surrounding her that evening.

With their close friends sitting beside them at the dinner table and Lando’s hand on her thigh, she looked around to find everything she could ever possibly need for the rest of her life.

That must’ve translated in her eyes because Lando was leaning down to murmur, “You okay, love? You seem dazed.”

She smiled at him, his heart stopping unsurprisingly, and murmured back, “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just really happy to be here.”

He pulled back, a large grin on his face, before he began to stand up, “Let’s make you a bit happier then, yeah?”

She was confused by his words, but couldn’t question it as he began dinging his knife against his glass, quieting the conversations around the table and bringing his friends attention to him.

She stared up at him as he began speaking, “I just have a few things to say and then we can all go back to getting drunk.” He laughed, agreeing noises being thrown out by their friends, “First, I would just like to thank all of you for just setting your busy schedules aside to be here for a little commencement trip of the winter break. This season has been one of fun, especially with the fact that Y/n was able to make it to every race,” He looked down at her, grinning softly before he caught Max’s knowing eyes, “I cherish that, love. Anyways, so, thank you for that. The second thing is something I’ve been wanting to do for way too long, but never gained the courage. Oh, thank you to everyone for helping me plan what I’m about to do. I should probably say that before I actually do it.”

Y/n sat up in her chair, looking around to see everyone nodding at him as if they understood what he was saying. She looked to Pietra, the girl already looking at her and sent her a questioning face. Pietra just shook her head with a smile as she pulled out her phone and pointed it at the couple. Y/n’s head tilted, lost in confusion and not listening to what Lando was saying before he nudged her lovingly and forced her to look at him.

“Y/n, you’ll probably want to pay attention to this next part.” He chuckled, but she saw the way his forehead creased. He was nervous. She couldn’t understand why he was nervous.

He sat back down his chair beside her, turning his body so he could fully face her and grabbing her hands to hold in his. His piercing green eyes caught hers and didn’t let her go, “Y/n, we’ve been together for six years. Six years that you’ve helped me to find who I am as a person. Six years as you’ve made me realize the man I want to be, especially to you. Six years that you’ve spent putting up with me and all the stressful things I get us into. But, most importantly, six years you’ve spent loving me. When I first saw you at that gala, I was so incredibly struck by you. Not just by your appearance, you’re very beautiful, baby, don’t get me wrong, but there’s so much more to you that meets the eye and I knew that that night. I was struck by the way you held yourself, how strong you are and how kind you are to everyone around you. You’re consistently showing me the kind of human being I want to be and every day I try to live my life by making decisions you would. You’ve been a guidance for me and I can’t thank you enough for that, especially when I was struggling in my beginning years of F1. It’s not something I can say to you every day, but I hope you know how much you’ve improved my life since you’ve been in it. Ask anyone here, I’ve never laughed more, smiled more, or felt as happy as I do when I’m with you. You’ve brought such brightness into my life and I want you to know it’s because you are a light. To everyone here might I add. A light. That’s what pushed me to ask you out, to continue to fight for you, for us because the kind of joy you’ve given me just by being yourself has completely flipped my world upside down. That’s what pushes me to do what I’m about to do next.”

Y/n’s hands shook in his as she watched Lando move his chair and get down on one knee before her. By now, tears were streaming down her face at the realization of what was to come. By now, the entirety of the rooftop had turned to see the spectacle.

Lando Norris getting engaged.

He looked up at her, something he didn’t get to do often, and removed one of his hands to pull the box from his pocket. When he opened it, Y/n cried harder, taking his head in her hands and kissing him harshly.

He laughed at her, kissing her back before mumbling, “Baby, baby, let me get through it?”

She chuckled through the wetness coating her face and nodded, “Please,”

He moved the ring higher, presenting it to her as if it was the most important thing. She wondered when he would realize he was the most important thing.

“I don’t want to know anyone else. I don’t want to love anyone else. I don’t want to share my life with anyone else, but you, Y/n. I want it to be you. Only you. For the rest of my life. Forever and ever and ever, be my wife?” He said through a smile and choked voice, glistening appearing in his eyes as he stared up at his love.

She sobbed, screaming, “YES, LAN! YES! OH MY GOD, YES! YES!”

She lurched forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and nuzzling into the skin there. His hands gripped her body as they cried into each other, whispering soft words of adoration and love.

“I love you so much.” He said, squeezing her tightly as the restaurant erupted into applause and whoops of cheer.

“I love you too, Lan,” She said back, three words that would never have to go unsaid for the rest of their days.

When they pulled back and Lando slid the ring onto the designated finger, they turned to their table. What they found were weeping faces and large smiles as everyone clapped at the success of their plan.

Max blew his nose at the head of the table, Lando and Y/n laughing at him as Pietra rubbed his back.

“You okay down there?” Lando said with a smile as he watched his best friend.

Max stood from his chair and ran over to the newly engaged couple, shouting words of happiness, “I’m just so happy for you guys! Six years, I’ve been waiting for this! And Lando, you were so nervous and I’m just so happy it worked out. Congratulations! I didn’t expect to get this emotional. I’m just so happy that you’ve found someone to love you even with how horrifically annoying you are!” He rambled, hugging them tightly and continuing to blot at his face.

Lando pulled back, “‘Horrifically annoying’?”

Max nodded, “Yes, and look at her! She loves you for you! I’m so proud of you guys!” He wept again, not addressing the way Lando scrunched his nose up at the insult.

Max pulled them into a hug once more, stuffing his face between the two as Lando and Y/n were left to jokingly comfort him. From over his shoulder, Lando whispered to his fiancée, “Am I really horrifically annoying?”

She shook her head, “Horrifically? No. Annoying, though? Mmm, maybe.” She giggled and smiled at him.

That smile, stopping his heart, made her calling him annoying hurt less. That smile was his everything. That girl was his everything.

Oh, Lando was so gone for her and the ring on her finger just told him he could continue to get lost in her.

For the rest of their lives.

[xoxoemynn]

For OFMD Tumblr friends who want a S3 and are scared of Twitter

First, no judgment from me. I very much get it. I resisted Twitter for a long time, and even though I'm now a bit more comfortable on it, it's still not my Fandom Home. There are a TON of valid reasons not to be on Twitter, but if you REALLY want to keep OFMD visible right now and help its chances of returning for a third season, Twitter is the best place to do it. Like it or not, Twitter is still the best social media platform for raising awareness and for instant news updates.

Tumblr posts don't make headlines. Topics that have been trending on Twitter do. And if we want this show to come back, we need to make OFMD impossible to ignore.

By now you've probably seen just how close we came to a S3, and if you're like me, you are RAGING and donning your battle jacket. But I get it can be intimidating to get on Twitter for the first time, so I thought I'd address some common anxieties I see. I'll put below a cut because this got a bit long, but I promise it's a quick read.

I don't know what to say! Where do I even start? That's okay! You don't have to create your own tweets (although it's great if you do). Amplifying other people's posts is also important. Go ahead and like/retweet/reply to other people's posts. This may also help you get an idea of what you may like to say in your own tweets.

Hashtags...yes? Yes! Although don't use too many or you may get flagged as a bot. The biggest one that seems to be emerging is #SaveOFMD. Other popular ones are #RenewAsACrew, #RenewOurFlagMeansDeath, and of course, #OFMD and #OurFlagMeansDeath.

Should I just be tagging all the streaming services? Per @renewasacrew, no. It's counterproductive. You'll want to tag one streamer at a time and be specific. Below is an example of a tweet I made the other day -- use specific reasons why that that particular streamer may benefit from picking up OFMD.

I'm scared. People are mean. Yeah, people are mean. But I will say the vibes over at OFMD Twitter are currently the best I've ever seen them. People seem to have united for the greater good and are being overwhelmingly positive and just trying to do whatever we can to save the show. (That said, again, I already had a pretty curated feed, and was very liberal with blocking users/terms I didn't want to see, but I've been able to spend so much more time in the For You tab than I ever have without being jump scared by something.)

But I don't know anyone there! Wouldn't I just be shouting into the void? Not if you use the hashtags! Fans are being really good about following those and engaging with the tweets. Plus, [Stede voice], I'm your friend. I'm xoxoemynn over there as well, I'll follow you back and engage with any of your posts that I see. Plus, what's been REALLY lovely to see is that SO many lurkers have come out of lurkerdom to support the efforts, and they are being welcomed with open arms, so you will not be alone. Again, I am telling you, vibes? Best I've ever seen them.

I can't get sucked into another social media platform, I don't have the time. The beauty here is you don't need to spend a lot of time. I've been on Twitter more in the past week than I have in the entire year I've had an account, and I'm still only on for maybe an hour total the entire day? I open the app, I check a couple accounts, I engage with a handful of posts, and I close the app. It takes all of five minutes. It's an extremely small lift that can have a very big impact.

My bet is on Zaslav expecting us to be upset, and that there may be a day or two of outrage, but then we'd move on. I'm sure right now he's trying to convince everyone that this is a fluke, and that it'll blow over soon. Don't let him win. Keep OFMD in the news. Be loud (but polite) and make Max and other streamers take note of what a passionate, loyal fan base this show has. Make their stocks continue to drop. Make it clear this is NOT just a fluke, it is NOT business as usual. It's a BIG fuck up with lasting consequences.

Twitter, for all its sins, is the best place to do this.

Now let's get our damned show back.

[fanaticsnail]

Last One Laughing

Masterlist here

Word count: 970+

Synopsis: The Heart-Pirate crew were bent on getting their Captain to smile, no matter the cost. Swapping jokes after mealtime, you all continued to check over your shoulder to see if you managed to break the upturned curve into Law's face.

Themes: platonic heart pirates x reader, non-romance fic, eating, drinking, gambling, making each other laugh, comfort fic.

Notes: @indydonuts said she was having a bad day. Wrote this in the hopes of bringing her some joy 🖤. I hope you like bad jokes, love! Art link.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @mfreedomstuff

“Okay, okay, okay,” Penguin ushered his hands in a swatting motion downwards, his lips curling into a broad smile, “Me next, me next.”

All sat at the dining bench, food trays laying scattered and emptied at the edge of the lengthy metal table, the Heart-Pirates gathered on the pews and sat swapping ridiculous jokes all in the hopes of getting a rise out of their Captain: Trafalgar D Water-Law.

It was no easy feat: gaining one of Law's very rare smiles. The entirety of the crew were dedicated to making the dark-haired man crack a small smirk, but the sought after grin would take more than a simple joke to break it into his lips.

“What did the Fishman say when he swam into a wall?” Penguin’s snicker made it all the more difficult for him to conclude the joke, but he teetered it off by clutching at his collar.

“What?” you asked in return, eyebrow arched and grin beginning to crack over your lips.

“Dam,” he squawked, his outrageous and overemphatic laugh was more contagious than the hilarity his joke managed to produce. Penguin snuck a glance over to his captain, noticing his frown and subtle click of his tongue was all Penguin's joke managed to invoke.

Shachi clapped a hand over Penguin’s shoulder, leaning forward and smiling over at you and Ikkaku across the table.

“What's red and bad for your teeth?” he did his best to stifle his growing smile by sucking in his bottom lip. The room shrugged, Ikkaku’s shoulder bumping your own from your position beside her.

“Candy?” Bepo offered with a single, fuzzy, pointed digit, his voice contemplative and reflective.

“A brick,” Shachi concluded, Penguin’s squawked laughter only growing in volume, much to the delight of your crewmates around you. Shachi snuck a subtle glance to his captain, Law's back now turned to face away as he rose to his feet - returning his tray to the kitchen bench.

“Oof, he's tough to crack today,” Ikkaku whispered through gritted teeth into your shoulder, “You reckon we should up the anti?”

“I don't see why not,” you confessed, lip down turned and eyes wide, “What have you got?” She cleared her throat, prompting the crew to bring her their undivided attention.

“Two guys walk into a bar,” she states in a loud and booming voice, prompting Law to halt in his tracks as his ears pricked up.

Ikkaku smirked, crossing her arms and sucking in her bottom lip, her delivery concluded with, “The third guy ducks.”

Shachi and Penguin roared with their laughter, Bepo offering a polite chuckle as your giggle and shake of your head joined in with their chorus.

“Okay, that was bad,” you reached for her forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze, “But I am so glad you're actually participating this time.”

“Hey, you all involved Berry,” she clapped her hand over your own and braced herself against you, “Like I was gonna turn that offer down.” Law reached an inked finger over the counter, collecting a steel canister of water and returning to his space away from you all.

“What did the janitor say when he jumped out of the closet?” Bepo asked the crew, each member turning over to meet his beady, dark eyes with anticipation. Bepo held his paws beside his face, giving them a gentle shake as his brows upturned.

“Supplies!” he shrieked in glee. Shachi clapped his hand over Penguin's chest as Penguin threw his head back against Shachi’s shoulder: both laughs far more entertaining than the delivery of the Bepo’s joke. You snuck a glance at your captain, his cup raised to his lips and eyes remaining serious and unmoving.

“Fine,” you utter to yourself in a quiet whisper, cracking your neck within your palms and fingertips, “Have it your way.”

“Heart-Pirates,” you shot through the air, your manner scolding and serious, “You all know it is inappropriate to be making ‘dad jokes’ when none of us are actually fathers. We all know better than this.”

“What do you mean?” Bepo’s pale, bear face was knit with concern.

“Yeah, what's the big idea?” Penguin asked, his brows furrowed and defensive, “I thought we were all enjoying the dad humor. Why can't we make 'dad-jokes'?”

You remained serious, glaring at your crewmen as your eyes sparkled with delight and mischief.

“It’s a faux pa.”

The silence was broken by a sound none were anticipating. The hummed chuckle cut through the air like a slash of a blade, prompting all of you to snap your heads over to seek out the source.

Trafalgar D Water-Law and a smile painted on his lips, his eyes closed and his cup clutched firmly within his inked fingers. At that small chuckle, the crew laughed in glee: each of their melodical ulations harmonizing in unison.

“Hah! I got him!” You exclaimed, your joy evident in your eyes as you pointed your index finger at the crew around you, “Pay up, you lot.”

Slaps of Berry were scattered on the table in front of you, your subtle bounce on the balls of your feet and squeak of joy responding only had Law's smile rise further up his face.

You shot your captain a winning smile, offering him half of the Berry you collected from the crew. His palm upturned before him, a shake of his head was the refusal you needed to keep the hoard of wafer papers all to yourself.

“Alright, crew,” you offered to the Heart-Pirates around the table, “Next time we make port, drinks are on me!”

Cheers scattered amongst the crew, new joy found at the promise of fresh ales frothing at the brim. Law's eyes searched his crewmen, halting over each of them individually before his eyes settled on your form.

While his crew always managed to bring him support and had his back no matter what; the memory of his own ‘faux pa’ prompted Law to chuckle.

Donquixote Rosinante, Corazon, would be proud of the crew Law had surrounded himself with: his spectral laugh echoing in his mind as Law's smile only stretched wider.

[pommedepersephone]

You Say Potato, I Say Excellent! Or blocking, accents and legacy of morality tales in ‘The Resurrectionists’ minisode PART II

Alternate title: how Aziraphale’s naivety in this episode was supposed to make you a bit outraged

I have to shout out to @bowtiepastabitch for their AMAZING historical analysis of this minisode - it prompted me to finish this long ramble that has been drifting in my notes. Anyway, I have a major obsession with the ways blocking and dialogue interplay in Good Omens - you can check out my analysis of the blocking in the flashbacks in S1. But The Resurrectionists is really something special. This got so long I am splitting it into two parts. 

What we see in this minisode is a morality tale - a genre of children’s literature that was extremely popular in the early 1800s where the minisode is taking place. Catch up on the historical background in Part I.

When looking at this minisode, it is really important to look at two complementary narrative tools - Crowley’s accent and the placement of Aziraphale in relation to Crowley. Through the minisode, Crowley switches between his standard English accent and a delightful Scottish accent. But the switching isn’t random!

Scottish lines =  character Demon Crowley, who moves the plot of the story along

English lines = Crowley, the moral guide leading Aziraphale

Additionally, the two of them swap sides in their blocking frequently in this episode. Their standard placement is A/R + C/L but the swap to C/R + A/L is almost the norm in this minisode.

Analyzing Blocking and Dialogue

We open in the graveyard, with Aziraphale and Crowley in their standard placement, observing the statue of Gabriel. But then they notice Elspeth, digging up a corpse. When Aziraphale approaches Elspeth to inform her that her actions are Not Good, he actually ends up swapped with Crowley and finds himself on the left because what he is doing - making moral judgments on the actions of Elspeth with no understanding of what led her here - is doing Good, not good.

The next scene finds Crowley helping Elspeth cart the corpse away from the graveyard, while the trio debate all the other ways Elspeth could make money - Aziraphale suggests running a bookshop, farming, weaving, giving the standard Good party line about hard work blah blah blah. Aziraphale remains on the left - after all, those supposed options are completely unrealistic, unobtainable professions for someone in Elspeth's socioeconomic position. They aren't remotely helpful suggestions.

Aziraphale only finds himself back on the right when he and Crowley are introduced to Wee Morag, and have some time to listen and observe the reality of their situation.

Then, off we go to complete our journey to sell the body. Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves having a debate about morality, but Aziraphale is again ON THE LEFT as he waxes poetic about the virtues of poverty - doing Good, not good again. What I loved here was you saw the clear purpose between Crowley’s two accents as he switched mid-line -

Crowley: (SC) Oh, I'm down with wicked! (EN) Anyway, is it wicked? She needed the money. 

Upon reaching the lodging of Mr. Dalrymple, FRCSE, Crowley and Aziraphale take their standard places but this scene has one really important moment that I want to highlight. When they open the barrel to find the rotted corpse, the look on Crowley’s face is so telling. He often finds Aziraphale’s machinations amusing even when they are annoying, but here he looks decidedly disappointed. Aziraphale might have done Good by rendering the body unsellable, but what good did it do? The body is still been un-interred. Elspeth has wasted her energy, and has made a terrible first impression of the surgeon whom she needs to pay her for her services. It looks like Crowley wants to say something, but he stops himself and clenches his jaw. The PATIENCE he is showing to Aziraphale - this is a quality that Crowley has in SPADES but we really see him exercise it here.

After the discussion with Mr. Dalrymple, in which Aziraphale realizes the importance of dissections for educating medical students and thus leading to better care for the living, he asks the right question - why should the poor have to risk death to obtain bodies? But he let's himself get sidetracked by a blatant appeal to his emotions...

At this point, Aziraphale goes all in on body snatching being Good. Which... it still isn't because it is based on a broken system that disadvantages the poor? FOCUS, angel. He even goes as far as to offer to help Elspeth and Wee Morag in obtaining another corpse but note that again, he is on the LEFT -

Remember, Wee Morag is deeply conflicted about the morality of body snatching, and instead of explaining anything to her (like, that having your body dissected won't keep you out of heaven would be start) Aziraphale just sort of joins Elspeth in pressuring her to join in - which is pretty awful and coercive, but gee if that isn't just heaven's playbook for doing Good, not good.

So we return to the graveyard, and this is where everything goes sideways. Aziraphale spends basically this entire sequence on the left. First, he notices the ingenuity of the grave guns but fails to acknowledge the travesty of so much energy being spent on protecting wealthy corpses while the poor suffer. Then, the tragedy strikes. After Wee Morag is shot, Aziraphale wastes time justifying saving her, resulting in her dying before he can act. And after all this, after the heart break of seeing her partner die, we see Elspeth come to the logical conclusion. If body snatching is Good, then might as well take Wee Morag off to Mr. Dalrymple, right?

What shouldn't be overlooked is what takes place when Elspeth gets Wee Morag's body to Mr. Dalrymple. Because while Aziraphale is very clearly illustrating the dangers of black and white morality through religion, Dalrymple is showing that black and white morality through science is just as bad. Dalrymple has unshakable belief in the power of science and knowledge to alleviate human suffering and sees his work at Good. He cares about preventing illness, but ignore his role in perpetuating poverty - an unfortunate side effect of rigid belief systems of all shapes and sizes. He is downright cruel to Elspeth.

This is already getting real long, so we won't go into the absurdist comedy of the scene in the tomb - suffice to say that the surreal nature of Crowley's bargaining with Elspeth smacks of a fantastic tales of pacts made with the devil. It's delightfully unhinged.

The one line I think worth pointing out?

"Do I sound like a goat?"

I think this line is key in the narrative connection between the three minisodes in S2. All three flashbacks show Crowley and Aziraphale engaging in acts of deception, but they all have important differences:

In A Companion to Owls, the two work together, and they manage to pull off the trick and evade punishment.

In Nazi Zombies from Hell, Aziraphale comes up with a plan and Crowley goes along with it, and they barely manage to evade punishment.

In The Resurrectionists, Crowley comes up with a plan and Aziraphale goes along with it, and Crowley is sucked down to hell.

I think it's worth noting just how silly Crowley is in the first two minisodes. Bildad and Scottish Crowley are FUN even when dealing real heavy shit. Just a complete joy to watch. And we never see that level of silly from him again. Whatever happened in hell was clearly really bad since the next time we see him in St. James Park he is asking for holy water. He may have moments, but he is never the same.

Questions, comments, additional thoughts? Lay them on me. I'd love to dig into new lines of inquiry on this minisode because I just love it so much <3

[mellowsaturns]

the act of giving

BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER

summary: bucky takes note of something you said and days later, he shows up at your front door with a surprise

warnings: fluff

wc: 640

— — —

Bucky was on a mission.

He liked to think it was the most important one yet. It required both balance and strength, combined with the tricky skill of good hand-eye coordination so he doesn’t fail and ruin the whole thing.

The mission?

He was trying to carry a very heavy bouquet of flowers while navigating the streets of New York City. All so he could surprise you.

He secretly ordered the arrangements of red, pinks and purples days ago, after you casually let out how you thought the act of gifting flowers was romantic.

So here Bucky was, trying his best to not trip over his own two feet. Highly trained ex-assassin aside, the thought of you was enough to make him weak in the knees and he couldn’t have that—because these flowers were for you only, not the grimy concrete grounds.

When he finally reached the comforts of your home—the one he spends most of his time at—he knocked.

It didn’t take long for you to open the door. “Oh!” you said in surprise, “I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong address, I didn’t order any flowers.”

Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle from behind them. He peeked his head out slightly. “Surprise, doll.”

You gasped. “What—Bucky! What is this?!”

“It’s for you,” he said, voice bashful.

You flushed. “When did you have the time to even… How did you… Oh my God…” you trailed off.

You let him in and after he sat them down on the table you couldn’t stop the wide grin spreading across your face. It complemented your living room so well. “Am I missing something? Is today a special day?”

“Does it need to be a special day for me to get my girl some flowers?”

“Bucky! These aren’t just some flowers! You got me a whole garden.”

He frowned. “You don’t like them?”

You shook your head. “No! I love them. I love them so much. They’re gorgeous and they smell lovely. I’m flattered,” you assured. “But why?”

“You said the other day you thought gifting flowers was romantic,” he answered.

The other day… Ah. You were scrolling through social media when you came across a picture of tulips. Then you said out-loud that you thought the act of giving someone flowers was romantic. Even though you were resting your head on his lap when you said that, you were talking mindlessly to yourself more than anything—you didn’t even know Bucky was listening to you. Moreover, you didn’t expect your boyfriend to actually show up with a bouquet so big that even he had trouble getting it through your door.

The sudden thought of him picking up such little details made your heart flutter.

Bucky lightened up the moment he saw that expression on your face. You must’ve been surprised he remembered such a small insignificant moment, Bucky concluded.

“You know I’m always paying attention, doll.”

You started tearing up the second the words came out of his mouth.

He cupped your face with his hands. “Hey,” he said, voice soft and gentle. “Why are you crying?”

You sniffled. “Because you’re so damn sweet. I have the best boyfriend in the world.”

He pulled you into his embrace and chuckled.

“I love you so much, you know that?” you mumbled into his chest.

How could he not? You’re always taking care of him and reminding him. Doing these little things for you was the least he could do. He loved seeing you happy and would do anything to see that radiant smile of yours that outshone every star. He would give you the world if he could, but it might require some planning, so for now… it’s outrageously big carnations, roses and orchids.

“I love you more,” he said, before pulling you back and placing a tender kiss onto your lips.

— — —

a/n: yes this was inspired by those pics of seb carrying flowers. i couldn’t help myself.

[alightelixe]

I was just thinking about how Charlie would totally win the "two truths one lie" game (idk what the official name is lol)

He'd say 3 equally outrageous things that could only have happened to him 😭

This is how I imagine it would go:

Poets: "Charlie it's your turn; two truths and one lie."

Charlie: "okay, here it goes. First one: I once stole someone's car, drove it around the block then parked it in the original spot without the owner noticing. I left a note in there that said "Charlie was here". I never found out if he read it or not."

Knox: "I didn't know you could drive? When did you get your license?"

Charlie: "I don't need a license to drive, especially not in a stranger's car. Anyway, here's the second one: when I was ten, a classmate had told me about his pet rat, which obviously is the best pet ever. When I asked my father if I could have one too, he said no. So i decided to break into the boy's house. I kidnapped the rat and brought it with me. I kept it underneath my bed for a month until my room started to smell funny..."

Meeks: "that's gross."

Pitts: "and tragic for the poor rat."

Neil: "why do both of these stories involve a break-in? And why am I not surprised?"

Charlie: "Shut up. Get ready for the last one, this one's my favourite. Okay, during the summer of '56, I went on vacation to Italy. While I was there and alone in my hotel room, I secretly ordered 5 Martinis on room service while my parents were out by the pool. The delivery guy didn't even bother to check my age? He must've thought I'd ordered them for my folks or something... anyway, I managed to drink three of them and I got completely wasted."

Cameron: "that's it? That's the story?"

Charlie: "no! I wasn't done yet. So I'm completely out of it and I walk out of my room to find my parents. There was only one thing I forgot... I hadn't realised I wasn't wearing any clothes. Apparently an employee found me asleep on the floor of the lobby."

Todd: "no way... You were walking around the hotel naked??"

Charlie: "Good luck figuring out which one's fake!"

[princesayumi4k]

.P.S. Y/N is a girl in this story, sorry men :(

I would like to note that this story has...

Secret Relationship

Swearing/Cussing/Cursing

NFSW topics (such as sex.)

Threats containing death and suicide.

You and Tenya have been dating for a while, exactly 6 months.

YOU = PINK

TENYA = BLUE

OTHERS = ORANGE

6 months ago was a wild ride, I mean, you (Y/N) were getting over a harsh relationship with ? who left you thinking you couldn't love again. Of course, Tenya comes in (best friends at the time) and you could finish that story.

Well anyhow, you two didn't want everyone to know - especially the Bakusquad. You both only told Ochaco, Tsuyu and Izuku which the secret was safe with.

You shared a dorm room with Katsuki, which was quite scary since he would always barge into your room without knocking - but for some reason he got mad at you when you didn't knock on his door? Odd guy, Katsuki really is odd even though he keeps this "I'm a badass" attitude.

Tenya usually lets you come to his dorm room, which he shares with Tsuyu - so that was okay for you to come over. Except for the one time you almost got caught losing your virginity.

But the one night Tenya insists to come over, Katsuki stops him in the doorway - Katsuki was going out while Tenya was going in.

"What are you doing here, four eyes? It's like 7." Katsuki asked, looking Tenya up and down.

"But, it's 6:30?" Tenya replied.

"Of course you'd know that, smartass. Why are you here anyways? We don't even talk-" Katsuki then paused and started growing a smirk. "You're here to see Y/N, aren't you?"

"What?! No, that's crazy...why would you even think that?" Tenya said awkwardly, chuckling nervously.

"Come on, glasses. Stop playing dumb, I know you're here to see Y/N."

"Fine, I am. But what's it to you?"

"It's kind of odd, no?" Katsuki laughed, looking Tenya up and down once more, leaning against the doorframe.

"Me and Y/N's actions behind their door is none of your business, Katsuki."

"Oh? I never said anything about that, glasses. That kind of intrigues me. Are you planning something?"

"Just be quiet Katsuki, this isn't any of your business anyways." He sighed, fixing his glasses by pushing them up on his nose bridge.

"Maybe it isn't," Katsuki began, "But Y/N is my dorm mate. So whatever their business is, I also have the right to know. Especially if someone is over."

"Okay, well me and Y/N's relationship isn't any of your business."

"Mmkayyy. I'll find out sooner or later, four eyes."

Tenya rolled his eyes when Katsuki assured he'd find out - he couldn't find out until you two became public about your relationship.

He made his way to your room, knocking.

You let him in by calling, "Come in!"

"Yeah, I'll be doing that later." Tenya sighed, "I didn't know Katsuki was your roommate. He's more obnoxious than in class when he's at home."

"You're acting like I don't know that." You rolled your eyes.

"I missed you." Tenya muttered, kicking off his shoes and climbing into your bed, beside you. "Have you been studying?"

"Hell no." You grunted, "The tests are in a month, Ten."

"So? Darling, studying is important."

"I know that. But a month before is a bit outrageous."

"Fine..." Tenya breathed, nuzzling himself into your shoulder.

"Are you alright?" You asked.

He nods into your shoulder, raising his head and kissing your neck softly.

"Tenya...there's no way you're alright. You're never this clingy..."

"I can't love you?"

"Now now...I never said that, Tens. Don't twist my words."

He raised his head and scooted himself up, kissing your lips.

"I need it."

"Need what?"

"You." You've never heard Tenya's voice so...possessive? Tenya didn't mind sex. But he didn't love it, especially because he felt awful for making you scream. But he has never been so sexual.

"Tens..." You mumbled.

"Mmph...you know love, I've been missing out on my studies as well."

"Wow, what a rebel." You said sarcastically.

"Shush."

"You know I'm joking."

"You're being stubborn."

"Damn, this might be opposite day. You're in heat and I'm the stubborn one."

"Yeah, well...I've been missing my studies to learn other things."

"As in?"

"How to finger you right."

"What..?" You asked softly, did you hear him correct? To finger you...right?

"I know you're pleased when I finger you, but I don't know much about female genitalia...so, I wanted to learn things like where some parts are."

"Did you see pictures?!"

"Only a drawing or two, but relax. They don't look as good as yours."

"Well, what did you learn?"

"Where a clitoris is, and how to hit good spots."

"Tens!"

"What?"

"Never mind." You mumbled, clearly flustered but grateful he learned to make you happy.

"Well...may I try?"

"Fingering me?"

"If you're alright with it."

"I...fine."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Tens."

"You don't look very sure."

"I promise, I'm sure."

"Okay darling." He said softly, fixing his glasses before parting your legs and kissing you softer than his words. "If it hurts...tell me. Please."

"Okay."

And so he lowered your pants, looking at you for confirmation before taking them off completely. He then rubbed your clit while whispering praise in your ear - rubbing gently through your panties. He started kissing you (with tongue) while rubbing faster and a bit more roughly.

"Fuck..." He breathed heavily from the kissing, he lowered his hand in your panties to feel your wet pussy. "You're so wet...it's sloppy-wet..."

"Sorry..."

"Don't be." He said before taking off his glasses and laying them on the dresser beside your bed, he put his head in between your legs as he started spitting through your panties and licking through them.

"Tens..." You moaned, trying to be quiet so Katsuki wouldn't hear, your pussy was twitching and throbbing, your legs were trembling as you held his head closer to your pussy. He then started sliding off your panties, revealing your pussy, dripping with your cum.

"Oh god..." He gasped. He slowly started suckling on your clit as he brought a finger to your pussy and stuck it in slowly, this made your head jerk back along with moaning loud. He then stopped suckling, fingering you and hitting all the right spots. He made you close to your release, fingering you fast as he dirty talked you, still praising you at the same time. Since Tenya was nicely manicured he wasn't awful at fingering, but hot fingers are a bit thick, so it hurts sometimes. - He pulled out his finger as soon as you were close to cumming. "Ah-ah." He said, getting close to your ear. "You're saving your cum for my dick." He whispered, then unzipping and unbuttoning his pants, rubbing his bulge through his boxers in your dripping wet pussy. You never knew Tenya could be this dirty, especially with you. But, he felt your wetness soak into his boxers, before he revealed his cock that was clearly more trimmed, barely any hair. There was also some precum already dripping from his dick. "You haven't even started suckling on me, dear. And I'm already dripping, do you see what you do to me?" He whispered, before pulling his pants and boxers down further, pressing against your pussy's entrance, you gasp-moaned and he shushed you with his finger and a small "Shhh..." Right as he started pounding into you, whispering compliments to you and praise. "Take it baby..." He moaned softly, almost like a whimper. He started whimpering right as he was about to cum, pounding faster and harder, sweating a bit and going super fast before he released his seed, collapsing on your chest.

[solomons-finest-rum]

Hello to one of my favourite Alfie fic writers! Since you're taking requests, I'd like to make one as well.

I don't know how it works but how about a scenario/imagine where Tommy gets in some kind of trouble (as always) and Alfie suggests that his lovely gangster wife could help and goes to introduce them but as it turns out it's none other than the Shelby's sister/cousin/relative/friend/or maybe even an ex? (Your call one this one) who they thought was dead or something?

Idk if it's even worth your time and effort but I just wanted to make a request ;) No pressure, of course!

Love you and your writing a lot!

“As The Crow Flies” (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader) — PART 1

SUMMARY — By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Thank you to @zablife for being the most gracious beta!💗💗💗💗💗 and thank you Anon for this request, because actually it inspired a full-blown multi-chapter idea! So this is set around... Season 5 I suppose? But I'm going to ignore everything in it and Season 6 too. Let's pretend none of it happened and just focus on the fun part! That is driving Tommy insane and making Alfie say outrageous lines.

WORD COUNT — 2,286

Masterlist

In retrospect, Tommy Shelby felt he should have known better. He should have fucking known that the moment, the moment, he came to Margate to sort the bloody situation out, exactly two things would happen.

One, he would have to sit and listen with a straight face to Alfie’s inspired monologue, the subject of which had swerved from elephants to bank robbery in about two and a half minutes, and then managed to touch upon just about everything else under the sun.

Tommy remained quite sure that the sense of Alfie’s rambling had been long lost to history and the point of it all was just to talk him to death, really. Put him out of his misery with nonsense alone.

“Now then, Tommy, as I said, right, I ain’t the vindictive type, I really ain’t, so I am gonna help ya out just this once, right, outta the goodness of my own heart.”

Tommy managed not to roll his eyes. Barely.

“‘Cause I am a changed man these days, Tommy, an’ it can be that the old man that I am, I’m goin’ soft on ya, right, an’ so tradition dictates, mate, to ask for more than ten thousand for my troubles.”

Tommy raised a brow.

“But as things currently stand with the medical bills, on the account of bein’ shot in the face by some cunt, right… Fifteen would sound proper fair, mate.”

Thank fuck for small mercies, Tommy thought, then lit another cigarette and promptly got up to leave. Alfie apparently managed to settle both sides of the conversation, negotiations included, and their American problem could very well sort itself out all on his own—thus proving to Tommy once more that the only thing he could really count on in this world had always been lunatics.

“Right, the fuck you’re doin’ now, sit down!”

Tommy frowned and remained standing, cigarette in the corner of his mouth and sheer outrage emanating from his entire person. The question of “what in fuck’s name do you want now, you crazy bastard?” overtook his face.

“Right, I need to make a bloody phone call,” Alfie said then, which explained exactly nothing.

Yes, that was the second thing Tommy had been so sure would happen. Alfie would first go on a tangent, then formulate a plan that involved three separate layers of deception, a bribe, and a crate of dynamite (probably).

Then Tommy would get caught in the middle as bloody always and Polly would have his head for going along with Alfie’s plan in the first place.

What he didn’t expect was for Alfie to change his tone of voice completely as soon as the person picked up on the other end:

“Yeah, darlin’, it’s me. Come to the house, alright? Right, ‘cause I need ya here for somethin’. No, not like the— Bloody hell, woman, just don’t fuckin’ argue with me for once, alright?”

Sometimes a rare occasion would present itself for Tommy Shelby to become fucking speechless. Truth be told, he remained rather surprised that two such occasions had also involved Alfie Solomons, undoubtedly purely for the Devil’s bloody amusement.

“Who was that then, Alfie?”

“None of ya fuckin’ business.”

Tommy had a sneaky feeling there wasn’t a clever enough question in existence that could have pushed Alfie to say anything more. He looked smug as hell for having pulled that stunt off so Tommy was willing to see it through.

For old time’s sake.

The sun was setting and they had another drink, then Tommy let Alfie go on another tangent about… Tea import. Perhaps. Who knew, he wasn’t really listening.

On drink three Tommy was alerted by a car pulling up to the house, followed by a door slam and a rhythmic clacking of high heels on the porch. Tommy looked to Alfie, but the man remained infuriatingly calm.

Just as Tommy was about to reach for his gun, the door to Alfie’s study opened unceremoniously and a scent of expensive perfume wafted across the room. Tommy turned around and tried his best to keep up the indifferent facade, but failed miserably. Nothing could have prepared him for you walking through that door, with a giant bodyguard no less, following you like a second shadow.

“Alright there, Billy?” Alfie greeted the bodyguard casually and the man grunted in response. “Right then, might ya wait in the car for us, mate? This whole bloody business will take a minute.”

Tommy then watched as Alfie approached you and planted an affectionate kiss to your cheek, at which point Tommy stood up abruptly.

For a moment he just stood there and stared; a state he didn’t find himself in too often these days. 

“Darling, are we having guests?” you asked Alfie in a tone so familiar to Tommy; so like your mother. Pleasant, on the verge of sarcastic. 

By God, either that Camden bastard was a magician or you had a twin sister that Polly never mentioned. Because it wasn’t possible… It couldn’t be you. Not according to the file he stole from the parish. By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies. 

“Right then, Tommy, might I present my lovely wife,” Alfie said. “Sweetie, this here is Tommy Shelby, right, all the way from the ungodly place they call Birmingham—”

“Tommy Shelby?” you interrupted and looked at Tommy with a smile so like Polly’s that Tommy nearly lost his composure again. “My, my… And there you went and promised you were done with the life, Alfie.”

“Right, an’ how could that—”

“Anna,” Tommy interrupted what he was sure was a budding monologue from Alfie. 

“Yes?” you asked. “You know my name?”

“I… Know your mother.”

“Know?” There it was again. That curious smirk of yours that could really mean anything. Tommy found it harder and harder to keep up the charade.

“But that’s not possible, Mr. Shelby.”

“What’s not possible?”

Your tone remained polite, but your dark eyes said it all. The expression of quiet resolve Tommy thought only one person capable of delivering with such resentment.

“I’m an orphan, Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy said nothing to that, because what in hell could he even say? All of a sudden the American issue faded into nothingness, replaced solely by the phantom standing before him.

“So you did not lie, I see,” you turned to your husband with a quizzical expression, seeing as Tommy went quiet again. “He really is as strange as the papers make him. No matter, though, Mr. Shelby, I hope you like chicken? My husband insists I’m a terrible cook, but you must stay for dinner.”

Tommy nodded mechanically and put out his cigarette just to busy his hands with something. When he looked at Alfie, though, Tommy noticed how the man’s mouth twitched, clearly indicating the scheme was playing exactly how he wanted it to. Mad bastard, Tommy thought. There was no saying if he was being played or tricked or helped. Probably all at once, but solely for Alfie’s benefit of course.

“Right, curious as I am, luv, what delectable fuckin’ option you maimed and butchered for dinner, Tommy isn’t stayin’—” Alfie then stopped himself when two sets of identical Shelby scowls got directed his way.

Tommy did stay for dinner and made sure to clean his plate, too. He didn’t mind the food at all; it reminded him of Polly’s simple cooking back in the day when she would take care of Tommy and his siblings in Small Heath.

The more he listened to you talk and bicker with Alfie, the more of your mother he saw in you and the angrier he got at seeing you here of all places, as Alfie’s wife, unable to speak to you in plain terms. Tommy wasn’t exactly sure which made him angrier, though—the fact that you were Alfie’s wife or the fact that the sly bastard had kept you from your true family for who knows how many years. How did he even find you?

All the questions he had were still swirling around in Tommy’s head and he wasn’t particularly paying attention to anything else, besides staring daggers at Alfie. He was hoping there would be a moment to talk to you alone, but of course your husband would never allow it. He watched Tommy like a hawk the entire evening, sometimes with just a hint of a smile to suggest he was still three steps ahead of everyone else.

“See you never got accustomed to that fancy cookin’ they’re offerin’ ya at the mansion these days, Tommy,” Alfie said, undoubtedly truly enjoying the charade. “Tommy’s an MP, darlin’, right about two steps from gettin’ a knighthood I reckon. Yeah, a real prince he is.”

The way Alfie said the word was so clearly a jab at Tommy’s ancestry that he didn’t even flinch. What he was curious about was your reaction, but you remained perfectly pleasant: 

“Don’t tease, love, we haven’t had guests in ages and I’m not letting you drive this one away.”

When the maid took away the plates, you lit a cigarette in a swift overdone gesture and Tommy was once more taken aback with your resemblance to Polly. 

“Well, I’ll leave ya both to it,” you announced as you got up. “It was a pleasure, Mr. Shelby.” You extended your hand and Tommy shook it. “I know you tried your best with the chicken and I appreciate it,” you paused and tilted your head to the side as if sizing Tommy up.

“I rarely trust your husband’s judgement,” he replied.

The way you smiled reminded Tommy of a cat that got into the pantry. He decided not to think about it too much.

“I see. Goodnight then, Mr. Shelby.”

As soon as Tommy heard you got upstairs, he turned to Alfie who, unsurprisingly, already had a gun pointed at him. It was a casual way of it that was the most infuriating—Alfie’s hand was more so resting on the table and the gun just happened to be there, pointing at Tommy. 

“Now then, Tommy, let’s be reasonable about this, mate.”

Tommy clenched his jaw and remained silent, but his murderous glare said it all.

“There are four people at the house, right, includin’ you, me, my wife, then the maid… Then there’s Billy outside, right, who’s gonna be rightly worried once he doesn’t get my dismissal for the night. So I want ya to be real cold an’ calculated about it, Tommy, just like I know ya can be, ‘cause if ya decide to off me for no reason now…”

“No reason.”

“Right.”

“You’re old enough to be her father.”

“Yeah an’ fortunately I’m not, ‘cause that’d be right fuckin’ awkward at the temple, mate.”

“Temple?”

“What’d ya think, Tommy, that I smacked her over the head and dragged her into my cave?”

“Somethin’ like that.”

“Right, we’ll have to show ya the pictures then, she looked stunnin’.” Alfie leaned back in his chair. “Tell ya what, mate, why don’t ya come by for tea one day?”

“Tea.”

“Yeah. We have it, Tommy, we’re not animals.”

Tommy said nothing to that. He was still reviewing his options, but as he wasn’t a fan of spontaneous action, the patient approach seemed appropriate. The offer, though, just like everything else about the situation, was fucking infuriating.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Fuck you, Alfie.”

That finally made Alfie smile and for some reason he lowered the gun.

“Right, so seein’ as we’re family, Tommy, and what a happy coincidence this is, I must say, I feel like we should talk fuckin’ proper. None of that shit.” Alfie then gestured between them as if he hadn’t been responsible for “that shit” in the first place.

“We’ve been talking, Alfie,” Tommy deadpanned.

“Yeah, but then there’s still somethin’ ya haven’t told me about your American troubles, isn’t there, mate, so I’m expectin’ you’ll be more honest with me in the future. Now that I’ve brought the right arguments to the table…”

The hint of a threat in that statement almost made Tommy wish he still had his razor cap around.

“She’s Polly’s only daughter, Alfie.”

“Right, I’m aware of that.”

Tommy nodded, feigning understanding between them. As always, handling Alfie very much resembled handling a live grenade without a pin.

“This can’t be the way to end things.”

“Who’s endin’ things, Tommy?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, an’ I’m going to let this one slide, Tommy, ‘cause you just got a lot to process, mate, so I’m prepared to be understandin’.”

Tommy shook his head and reached into his jacket pocket, at which Alfie uncocked the gun. Tommy slowly pulled out his cigarette box, but Alfie never even flinched. It was gruesomely reassuring to still have been right, even in the position that Tommy currently found himself in. 

Alfie Solomons would always remain Alfie Solomons, even with the whole song and a dance about getting old and senile. He was still the same mad bastard Tommy came to know all those years ago, and as things stood, Tommy found himself wondering if this time he shouldn’t try poison instead of a bullet.

“Tommy,” Alfie sighed, “with three good eyes workin’ between us, mate, I really would greatly mind if I somehow acquired a fuckin’ tumour in my lungs, too.”

Tommy said nothing and he knew Alfie hated it.

“Which means put that shit out, mate, and listen to what I’m about to say, ‘cause I got a feeling you’ll really wanna hear it.”

[alpaca-clouds]

One Quick Thing about the historical Elisabeth Báthory

Okay, I do need to talk about the historical Elisabeth Báthory, because my inner "well, actually" needs to get this one out there. People who watched Nocturne will probably be at least vaguely aware of the entire mythology around the historical Elisabeth Báthory and how she got connected to the entire story.

She was a Hungarian noblewoman and the reason why she is remembered while most Hungarian nobles are not is the entire outrage around her alleged crimes.

The story goes somewhat like this: Elisabeth Báthory was very afraid of growing old. One day one of her maids cut herself and the blood dripped on Báthory's skin. Which on the next day was so much smoother. After which she became convinced that the blood of girls and young women would hold her aging. So, she had girls brought to her castle to bleed them dry and then bathe in their blood.

It is said she killed more than 300 young women like this, which she was charged with. Given she was a noble she was actually convicted for it, but given she was a noble, the punishment was only "house arrest" in her castle. Never the less she died just three years later of unknown (but probably medical) causes at the age of 54.

So, here is the thing why I want to talk about this. Now, please note: I do not think this will play any role in Castlevania: Nocturne. I think there she really just is a bad guy. But... I just gotta talk about it.

Because today scholars are at times questioning whether the story how it often is remembered. There is a by now very common theory that the reason for her accusations were two-fold: For one, she was a single woman who held a lot of money and power. For the other, she was practicing medicine, learning it partly from herbal practicioners, but also incorporating "modern" knowledge at the time.

Basically, she was already rich because her husband was rich. Then she just happened to be very good at politics, making her - as a widow - amass more power and riches. And people looked unfavorably onto her as a woman having this much influence and riches without a man attached to her.

The other aspect is, that we know she wrote about medicine. She did medical research on her own. And yes, even though she incorporated more herbal knowledge (something people frowned upon at the time, by the way), a lot of medical knowledge at the time also involved a lot of bloodletting. And there is some historical sources out there that show that at least some folks she tried to treat died through her treatment.

So, I got this one out of my system. I just needed to bring this one up. Because the two big historical serial killers we know about might well both have been innocent. The other being Gilles de Rais, who also is the main antagonist in my Castlevania fanfiction The lesser Evil (which you should totally read) - but there it also is a plotpoint that he was innocent.

Okay. That's it for now. I am out.

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 1st of March, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 1st of March, 2024

Question: Did The King let Prince Andrew attend the memorial service in part because he wanted the press to be able to take a photo of Prince Andrew and Prince William together (they would be walking one behind each other in rank order), and so stir up a media backlash against Prince William (like the one ai Christmas with Prince Andrew in the car with Prince William)?

This is a one card reading

Card drawn: The King of Cups

This is my card for The King, as it is the card for Scorpio and the King is a sun sign Scorpio. It is also my card for The King as a father/brother/husband, and not as a king.

Getting this card in answer to my question is a resounding yes to the question. That is part of what the King was planning - to stir up a media storm of outrage around his son and heir.

I have no words. I was hoping the answer to my question would be a No, and instead I got a Yes.

Underlying Energy: Death in reverse

Just in case I missed the message the first time around, the Death card is also the card of Scorpio, so it is also telling me Yes, this was part of the King's plan. We have the minor arcana and major arcana cards for Scorpio here, so there is no getting away from it - the answer to my question is Yes.

Death in reverse tells me that the King is acting out of the negative side of his Scorpio nature - manipulating and hurting other people for his own personal benefit. It also tell me that the King is repeating negative patterns from the past, aka his manipulation of the media during the War of the Waleses and afterwards to rehabilitate the Queen's reputation, and it tells me that the King is stuck mentally, that he is he is resisting change, and he is unable to let go of the past and move onwards to his new phase in life (as King) as it is in reality and not as he imagined it to be.

Conclusion:

Yes, the King did set up Prince William to face a media uproar and backlash from the general public. The King is acting from his desires as a person and not as the King. He is stucj ib the past emotionally, he is repeating old patterns, and he is unable to move on and accept his reign as it is, but instead he is trying to force it to be as he always imagined it would be.

Note: I am going to come back and do some more readings on King Charles and see if a) the past two readings on him are confirmed and b) what on earth he is doing.

[italianpersonwithashippersheart]

You know what pisses me off about this all PheeJin stuff. It's taken over.

No matter what happens having TaCopper be such a huge part of the anticipation, them being promoted so heavily as a ship with this series was a mistake.

About 50% of all the comments under the BTS videos and reddit posts are about PheeJin.

Either that they love the ship, or the actors, or they are mad the writers "ruined" Jin by confirming he was the one that leaked the video.

Side note: Everyone seems to be pretty much treating the confession as confirmation. So do I. It would be a stupid as fuck writing decision to have Jin be not the person that realeased the video and confess to it anyway.

Instead of focusing on the show's themes like this excellent post outlines by @syrena-del-mar or even the topics of sex and voyerism like this post by @shannankle or another post I can't find discussing the way the show subverts the tipical way sex is punished in horror. EDIT: @shannankle found the post and linked it in the notes it was from @brifrischu with addition from @lurkingshan. Or even just enjoying the theorizing like this post by @mikuni14 or this one by @tbhimnoteasyonmyself. Most of the fans (again other places I am not looking at the tag here on tumblr) are mostly discussing Jin, PheeJin and whining that Tan is a killer and lost his mind.

Also not saying anything about the Jin fans on Tumblr I am not going in the tag for a reasons. But a lot of PheeJin shippers and Jin fans on other sites are using words I fucking hate to describing New and it's starting to low-key piss me off. All the: he lost his mind, he is derenged (i also saw lost his mind like his brother - which you know ew) it's getting on my last nerve and I would appriciate if we could be a little lighter with that kind of language please.

It sucks that such a great show now wrote itself into this conrner where it only has two options: Stick to the genre and revenge plot, have team masked killer win (and kill Jin and Phee if he is indeed a traitor); everyone is dead, depressing ending no one is happy; or Phee and Jin succed in bringing down "crazy" killer New, we get some nice violence is not the answear after school message and Phee and Jin live happly ever after.

The first two will make the fans crazy, and we know the BOC shipper fans are on all other level of insane. And the third will leave the rest of us with a show that detroyed his own message for the sake of a ship, AGAIN (might I add, ofts fans will know the struggle). Leaving the show bad reviews and claim outrage because TaCopper wasn't endgame and they got ruined.

And let me very clear, If I have too see the well-off/rich character all alive while the poor characters all die and get called crazy because they dared take revenge and be angry at their mistreatment. I will actually consider this the worse BL ending ever. That will piss me off more then the Last Twilight ending ever did.

[teamfortraven]

Was originally going to post the lee and ler Vox headcanons simultaneously, but I don't wanna wait any longer since the lee ones are complete. I'll finish ler soon, just been busy.

Lee

You would catch this man dead before he ever admits that he’s ticklish, let alone enjoys it.

The primary way to discern if he’s in a lee mood or not is subtly sneaking the word into conversation and pretending nothing happened.

His reaction will say everything: on a normal day, he won’t bat an eye, but if you manage to catch him off guard, the reaction will be more than obvious if you’re paying attention. Jumping slightly, his screen and voice glitching for just a fraction of a second, and chuckling nervously… he’s putting all his resources towards keeping his cool, charismatic façade.

He’ll only become more and more restless the longer you tease him, waiting for you to strike, and, if it carries on long enough, wishing for it.

Desperation makes this man a spectacle. Maybe you’ll find him stretching around you way more often than usual, or he’ll call you into the observation room because he “accidentally” got his arms tangled in wires and now he’s stuck, and then yell through his flustered glitching when you ask why he doesn’t just use his electrokinesis to escape…

If you really want to get him going, brush an arm against his side as you pass by or elbow him in the ribs. He is almost guaranteed to blue screen right then and there, just for a few seconds, and then open-mouth gawk at you before recomposing himself and nervously straightening his bowtie.

It’s also important to note how all of his linguistic capabilities go down the drain after maybe a day or two of this.

“Heyyy, so uh, are you doing anything later? You should stop by the observation chamber, I need you to type… umm… type for me. Yeah- YES. Typing! Lots of typing! On a keyboard! Nothing else, that’s for sure! Later. Be there.”

“Can you help me adjust my coat? Specifically around the umm… waist… area. I tried to iron it but I fucked it up a bit, and uhh, it keeps making this weird crease- what? What do you mean you don’t see a crease? W-Well, it’s easier to feel it than anything! See where I’m pointing? Right there- oh. I mean… yeah, I guess I can just reach it myself if I can point that close to it- right. Right, okay, thanks.”

“Hmm? Oh, am I standing in your way? Well, I’m getting a very good signal from this specific spot. No, I can’t get this signal from anywhere else. If you want to get past me, that’s your problem, and I’m afraid you’ll just have to move me yourself. Wh- you’ll go the long way? Alright, well, good! Didn’t want you to move me! I like my signal! Go get your own, you freeloader!”

After a few days of this desperate act – if you choose to go this far, of course – he’ll only become more and more pitiful. There will reach a point where you literally feel so bad you just have to oblige.

He’ll be shocked, of course, and act as though he is outraged. A mere sinner, touching him?! Blasphemous! He won’t be having it!

It’s clear his attempts to “fight back” have almost no effort put in, and if you choose to call him out on it he will struggle just a little bit harder to try distracting you from the fact that he’s very clearly blushing.

And if you choose to call him out on the fact that he’s blushing, he’ll argue tooth and claw that Vox, the great TV demon, one of the supreme Overlords of Hell, does NOT blush, as his screen glows a bright cyan and he stutters over words that his processors seem to just barely kick out.

Once you make it clear after you begin the attack that you’re going to wreck him, he will make it easier for you and “accidentally” fall backwards onto the floor, allowing himself to be pinned down and tickled until he cries.

And you bet every single second that he’s going to pretend it’s the most agonizing experience ever, threatening you with everything in the nine circles he can think of…

If you want him to shut up, bring up the electrokinesis thing again and watch as he flusters himself by refusing to use it to get away purely out of spite, proving you right even more every second that he allows himself to be wrecked, knowing damn well he could get out of there immediately if he really wanted to.

The only reason he’ll actually use his electrokinesis is if you really manage to hurt his ego by teasing him… as soon as that electricity starts to spark up… run.

Death spot would definitely be his ribs. So much as quickly jabbing them will make him squeak at an unnatural pitch, quick to cover the area or grab the wrists of the attacker, sometimes both in that order. Spidering is gonna have this man screaming, gonna be thrashing around acting like it’s killing him.

Will lose his mind if you grab his waist and squeeze. Most sinners will be able to grab it with a single hand given what a toothpick he is, but for those with small hands, it’ll be even worse for him when two sets of fingers dig in on either side.

Can’t handle raspberries, seriously can’t. Right on his stomach?! How dare you! Pushing at your head half-heartedly, gripping his screen, trying to hide his face (in vain, really), squirming left and right to the point where you have to grip his sides and pin him, all while cursing you out and laughing so loud that any audio exiting his speakers peaks.

His laugh is loud in general, though, definitely borderline obnoxious, and as time goes on he’ll slowly fade out of his fake laugh that he molded over time and into a much more desperate and frazzled one. Oh, and god forbid if he snorts. Going to be embarrassed and blushing up a storm, eyebrows furrowed angrily if you react in any way to it, struggling even more intensely if that’s even possible… if he wasn’t already cursing you out, he’ll certainly be doing it then.

Remember the first bullet point? That’s where probably the worst tease for him comes into play: “admit that you’re ticklish, and I’ll stop.” You’re going to be met with a barrage of “no, fuck you”s and “go fuck yourself”s through fits of laughter. And make sure you speed up when he refuses… if you somehow get him to admit it, just remember that once you’re done wrecking him, you need to run, because he’s going to spend the next hour forcing you to admit that he’s better than you, that he isn’t ticklish, and that you’re actually the only one between the two of you who’s ticklish at all, as well as any other teases he can think of.

King of gaslighting! No one close to him actually believes him, they just know from… experience… that it’s better to agree, lest the claws get them >:]

Tickle him for too long and he will blue screen. You’ll get very clear hints that it’s about to happen, though, such as long pauses and glitching, his screen flitting across several different channels, and pixel tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

However, there’s also, of course, the option to make him melt rather than bluescreen.

His antennas are way too sensitive for actual tickling, only responding to light touches – a feather no-doubt works best.

And the effect is immediate. He’ll question what you’re doing at first before shuddering, a smile curling onto his face, and he’ll even do the equivalent of purring if you listen for the hum of his fans.

Going to be giggling shamelessly, definitely flustered but too torn to bother hiding it… lighter tickles elsewhere will make him squirm a bit, but he always seems to squirm closer than farther away.

Eyebrows furrowed from embarrassment but a wide grin and no objections -- just this seven-foot-tall gangly capitalist nightmare becoming putty and leaning against you, giggling quietly and sighing loudly when it’s over.

When he finally collects himself, it's right back to his charismatic TV persona to accuse you of doing it just because you wanted him to do it back.

[writersdare]

Two Gummy Worms | Luke Hemmings

Pairing: Luke Hemmings x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Luke was determined to take Y/N on a night drive. Some things, though, didn't want to go according to his perfect plan.

Warning: friends to lovers, fluff, mentioning of food

Word Count: 1 503

Requested: yes

Author’s Note: Honestly I enjoyed writing it so much, it gave me some sense of comfort, and I really hope you'll feel it as well once you read it ♡ Also, yes, I am obsessed with Luke's blue eyes, you can't take it from me...

A calm evening was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. Y/N lazily got up from a couch and wandered into the hall, feeling tiredness with her whole body. Someone celebrated Fridays with friends in local bars, Y/N, though, preferred to spent it quietly that time. Watching a silly show on Netflix, she’s been wrapping herself up in an old blanket, which was given by her friend Luke few years ago. Maybe – only maybe – it was fair to correct that the poor blanket was actually stolen from him, however, in Y/N’s defence, Luke didn’t use it much anyway, so the girl only borrowed something he never needed. 

Possibly, the stolen blanket made the guy to come over uninvited; in any case, once Y/N opened the door, she saw the friend on the threshold of her apartment.

“Let’s go,” without a proper greeting, Luke grabbed Y/N’s hand and dragged her out of the house.

“Where?” the girl stumbled, trying her best to stay where she was. Y/N was in her PJs, the hair was carelessly tide up in something close to a ponytail — the look that simply screamed “I’m staying in today”.

“For a drive. I’ll bring you back in few hours,” he promised, sounding both calm and determined.

“I warned you hours ago that I’m not going!” Y/N outraged, ignoring the fact that her friend drove all the way out there. The girl made it clear in her message that even though his adventitious idea sounded nice, she simply did not have any powers left for the trip. The tiredness was the size of the passing week, which fell on her shoulders sharply once Y/N entered home that evening.  

“It’s just few hours!” he whined and suddenly lifted the friend from the ground to bring her to the car himself. It was almost ten o’clock in the evening, and Y/N was getting cold. 

“Gosh, wait! Let me get changed at least,” the girl rolled the eyes, smiling a bit and still trying to set herself free. 

“Five minutes,” Luke warned, and once he put her on the ground, Y/N hurried up inside. She hoped to shut the door in his face, however, the guy foresaw it well, so he managed to slip through the door quicker. A wide smile appeared on his face. 

Even though the whole idea of going somewhere so late didn’t really excite Y/N, once she was in the car, checking all the snacks Luke bought them for the little trip, the girl thought that, perhaps, it was a nice distraction from her exhaustion for an hour or so. 

“You didn’t need to change, you looked pretty earlier, too,” Luke spoke up, glancing at Y/N who was chewing gummy worms and time to time placing few in his mouth as well.  

“That’s sudden,” the girl chuckled, trying to ignore a quick shutter of her heart. The girl fancied her friend for quite some time, but it was not as scary as dangerous to reveal her feelings. Y/N didn’t want to ruin their friendship. “Be honest, you just wanted me to get sick. I was freezing cold, by the way!”

“Well, if you didn’t hesitate for so long, you would be in the car a while ago, enjoying my company and food.”

“Thank you for mentioning food, I’d put it on the first place, though,” Y/N laughed shortly, looking at the window. Even though it was late, the lights were illuminating the road, and quite soon she started to see untouched fields, passing by. “Also, I wasn’t hesitant, I told you right away I wasn’t going.”

“Here you are with an urge to reply on everything,” Luke rolled his eyes jokingly and glanced at Y/N again. He liked how cozy and comfortable she looked at that moment. It was actually rather precious to know that a person he cared about so much trusted him, fully.

“You are the same,” the girl reminded and, giggling, put another gummy worm, a blue one, in his mouth. “Suits your eyes.”

The musician chuckled, barely being able to chew the marmalade.

“A worm?”

“Yeah,” Y/N laughed back and smiled vividly. “I like your eyes,” she mumbled and looked away, feeling too overwhelmed. If only he could be hers, and she could be his…

“So, we have a problem,” Luke announced, when about thirty minutes were left from the final destination. The guy was planning to show Y/N a sunflower field, but GPS suddenly stopped working properly. However, the guy was sure he remembered the way there so didn’t worry too much. Until…

Y/N turned her head towards a friend and frowned a little.

“Are you going to keep holding the dramatic pause or will just tell me?” she smiled, though, not even thinking there could be something serious.  

“Yeah, well,” Luke hesitated and glanced at a dashboard of the car. He still couldn’t believe what he saw. “Apparently, I forgot to refuel and noticed only now…”

“You are joking,” Y/N raised up in a seat to check it herself. “How could you forget?”

“I don’t know!” Luke outraged, slowing down the speed of the car. “I was in a hurry cause I wanted to make a good surprise for you!”

“Well, it is a good surprise after all, Luke!” Y/N giggled, not being mad for some reason. “Let me find the closest gas station,” she mumbled and opened her phone to check a map. The girl didn’t hear how her friend mumbled quietly “go for it”, as he already knew that GPS stopped working twenty minutes ago.

“Okay, so… we’re in the middle of nowhere,” she announced dramatically, zooming in and out on the map. “It doesn’t work. How much gas is left? Maybe we should go back,” Y/N sighed, once Luke stopped the car on the side of the road. He was upset. “Hey, that’s alright,” the girl smiled and unfastened her seat belt to sit sideways to the windshield, facing the musician. The girl gently placed her palms on his cheeks and nodded. “I’m not mad, it’s still a fun trip. After all, it wouldn’t be us if it didn’t end up like this, don’t you think?” she chuckled kindly.

Luke hurried up to cover her palms with his, being scared she’d break the touch too soon.

“We still can stay here for some time? Before going back?” he suggested carefully.

Y/N nodded, feeling the pulsation of her heartbeat almost in a throat. If only she could kiss him, and he could kiss her…

“Y/N,” Luke spoke up, and the voice was hoarse. 

“Yeah?” 

“I… I guess there is something I needed to tell you,” he started, immediately regretting it, though. How was he supposed to tell her that? Was it a bad timing? It probably was. There was no where to go, and if… if Y/N didn’t feel the same way it’d be hell awkward. He really didn’t think it through…

“Again?”

“What?”

“You need to tell me something else? I thought we’re done with surprises,” she giggled, fooling around a bit, as Y/N could see how anxious Luke started to look all of a sudden.

“Oh, no, that’s the main surprise, I guess,” the guy chuckled and looked down only for a moment. The fear took him over, though, and he rested his palms on the knees, so Y/N pulled away from him. “No, actually, forget about it.”

“No.”

Luke looked up at the friend, being surprised.

“What do you mean “no"?…”

“That’s exactly what I mean. I waited for too long to allow you to step back once again,” Y/N shook her head, getting annoyed. Why was he so uncertain sometimes? She was sitting there, next to him, worrying that her heart would break the chest, and he couldn’t say few simple words?… “Would you finally acknowledge my feelings for you if I kiss you right now? You’re so bad at taking hints! How can you keep doubting if I feel the same way you do?”

“How do you– How do you know?…” Luke mumbled, staring at Y/N. The guy couldn’t hide his terror. So she knew? All that time?!

“Honestly, it seems like it’s only you who is blind here,” the girl smiled sadly and looked down, feeling ridiculous.

Another second, though, she felt Luke’s hand on the chin. He carefully lifted her face so the girl could look at him before he covered Y/N’s lips with his. The kiss was tender and gentle, slowly changing into a more passionate one. They both just couldn’t believe it took them that long to confess. And honestly, who knew how long it’d have still taken if Y/N had kept silence. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” he whispered, touching her forehead with his.

“You already did,” the girl whispered back and, smiling, pressed the lips against his in another kiss.

taglist: @dgrangaa, @gracieboogirl, @yukichan67

– gifs aren’t mine and belong to the rightful owner – saw them here @calmfolklore & @kaleidoscopeminds –

Moodboard ♡

© writersdare | all rights reserved

All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡

Masterlist | Taglist

[ladelinee]

Authors note: Yay! I managed to finish the second part 🤩 I made it a bit longer because I didn’t want to miss any details. I thought it would be fun to introduce some characters a bit more and make a funny chapter. I might rest a bit and bring the next part after Christmas. I hope you like! 🥰

Word count: 4,2K

Warnings: sexist comments of the decade,teasing, cussing.

All shook up

(part 2)

"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?!" Mark, my boss, shouted with a very angry tone, banging his office desk.

My eyes started blinking rapidly, while my unfocused gaze became sharp. I was still daydreaming and remembering what happened last night.

"Yes, Sir… I'm very sorry. I was trying to protect Elvis" I answered, even without knowing what he had said previously, I perfectly knew what he was talking about.

"Trying? Elvis is like the fucking crown jewel of this hotel. He has to be protected at all costs while he is under our care" he said, his tone was becoming more and more annoying.

"I understand, Sir. It was a mistake, my fault for not taking the walkie-talkie. But he was alone at the backstage; something worse could have happened" I said, making him think it would have had worse consequences.

"I don't care what he does, he can even have an orgy on the terrace if he wants to. Your actions have caused damages to our client and our property. It took me three hours to negotiate with The Colonel about this, three! You are reckless and negligent. I knew I shouldn't have let a woman be in charge here," the boss exclaimed, outraging me.

"Sir, with all due respect, I am new to this hotel and I have tried to adapt as quickly as I could. I have never received any complain about my job, and I have never dealt with an earthquake before. Yes, I made a mistake, but even so, I did everything I could to keep Elvis and the other customers safe" I answered with confidence. I wasn't going to let him underestimate me.

The boss looked at me thoughtfully, taking a few seconds to respond. "Yeah, whatever. Now do us all a favor and go take care of those damn reporters outside. You're about the only person on this planet who can tame the hellhounds that are waiting out in the cold" my boss responded in a stern tone, tapping on the desk and slowly shaking his head.

"Alright, sir. I'm on my way"I replied obediently, not wanting to give a bad impression.

I got up from the chair and headed towards the door. When I came out, I felt that even the boss's hurtful words scolding me had not affected me. I was still in a cloud remembering what happened last night. Today was a great day, and I was happy after meeting Elvis, even if it wasn't the best moment.

On one of the floors of the building, I found Alex. He noticed something different about me, but he still didn't know anything about what had happened.

Alex approached me.

"Hey, how are you?" I asked him, greeting him in a friendly manner, trying to act normal.

Alex looked at me and greeted me with a genuine smile. "Y/n! Everything is fine. How about you?" He asked, raising his eyebrow in a curious way.

I began to laugh nervously and answered as best as I could. "All good, I guess. I'm alive and kicking! Well, what's today's plan? We have to go and calm down the press, right?" I answered, trying to change the topic.

As I was talking, Alex’s expression changed from a wide smile to a concerned look, as he slowly tilted his head. "Everything is alright? Something seems off with you" he asked in a curious tone.

"Yeah, you know, we gotta keep this place safe from reporters. They're all still after Elvis, but it's gotten a bit chaotic after the earthquake” Alex continued, in order not to seem like he was putting pressure on me.

Suddenly, I stopped in the middle of the hallway. I was afraid to tell it, but I needed to tell someone. I needed a friend's opinion.

"Alex…" I said with an intriguing tone, while I grabbed his arm as if we were two old ladies, -a clear sign that gossip was coming- "Can I tell you something?"

As I grabbed Alex's arm, he was surprised but didn't pull away, allowing me to do so. He looked down with a look of curiosity, then back up at me with a warm smile. "Of course, sweetie. What is it that you want to tell me?" He asked, his voice full of understanding and support, wanting to hear me out and do whatever he could to help.

"Promise me you won't say a word about what I'm about to tell you."

"Don't worry, I won't say anything" Alex said impatiently.

"Yesterday… oh… I ruined everything, Alex. I got lost because of the earthquake and ended up at the backstage. I didn't even grab the walkie-talkie, and I got locked in. But guess who…" I said in a mysterious tone.

Alex's expression was sympathetic with my situation until he was caught by surprise that I had been locked up with someone. "Oh no, please don't tell me you were locked in with that security bouncer. That guy is obsessed with you. What a nightmare!" Alex responded in that characteristic tone of his that made us start laughing. It slowly became more serious as I looked in each other's eyes.

"No Alex, I got stuck with… Santa Claus," I replied, using one of the old-school tricks, mentioning ficticious names so that people wouldn't know who we were talking about.

"Who is Santa Claus, baby?" Alex answered confused. He knew it was a fictitious name, but he didn't know who I was referring to.

"You know, when Santa Claus comes to “International” town. Everyone is happy; he also brings his “Snowman”, Santa Claus's little elfs helpers…" I couldn't make it clearer.

Suddenly, Alex remembered that Elvis's manager, the Colonel, was called "Snowman," so he made the connection, turning himselft pale as if he had seen a ghost.

"Wait… The SANTA FUCKING CLAUS?" He answered by raising his voice loudly, as if we were alone. At that moment, all the staff who were working in the floor with us turned around abruptly to look at us. Some looked at us with dislike, others were surprised and curious, and others began to laugh since they knew that Alex had always been a bit kook.

His shout made me blush with embarrassment, and I had to shush him without stopping laughing. "For God's sake, Alex! It’s a secret, remember?" I whispered to him while laughing.

"Well, the thing is, I didn't take the walkie-talkie with me, and I put Santa in danger during the earthquake. But I must say…" I paused, unconsciously biting my lip” he flirted with me. But then Joe came, and they left." I added with a mischievous smile changing to one of sadness.

"HE WHAT?" He exclaimed, opening his eyes and mouth, surprised by the news. Are you serious right now? Elvis flirted with you? And who is Joe, Rudolf?” Alex said between laughs with a sparkle in his eyes, trying not to show his desire to know more about this unexpected secret.

Alex spoke so loudly that for the second time, the employees turned to look at us. “Alex, SANTA, call him Santa. Yes, Santa flirted with me,” I answered a little upset as I feared that someone would find out.

At that moment, Doris, the cleaning lady, was passing by us. She couldn't help but listen to our conversation, and she said: “Santa what? Oh young lady, I think you need a break from this job. Or stop taking those magic pills.” She addressed us like a mother, scolding us in a slightly unpleasant tone.

Alex and I stood there, stunned, exchanging glances. Doris was certainly a box of surprises—an endearing old lady, but at the same time, bombs could come out of her mouth.

Quick to act, Alex reassured Doris “No need for tablets, Doris. It’s just the North Pole drama happening right here.” He subtly said while grabbing gently her shoulders guiding her back to her cleaning cart. "Come on, none of your business" he added.

"Well, so that happened." I chuckled as Alex returned to my side, still amused by his unexpected comment to Doris.

With a smile, Alex met my gaze and said, "I'm so happy about this. But you have to be very careful, y/n." His warm tone shifted to one of concern. "You know it's forbidden to have anything personal with a client. If the boss finds out, you could be fired. You can ruin your reputation."

"I know," I sighed. "I remained professional, but my god... this man has a natural gift for seduction. It was so hard to keep my composure."

After the warning, Alex lightened the mood, asking playfully, "So… tell me! Have you been able to feel Santa Claus's candy cane yet? I NEED TO KNOW!"

"Alex, shut up!" I whispered as we headed towards the entrance, ready to handle the press outside.

Meanwhile, Elvis was in his room, deep in his thoughts, sitting in a couch, looking out at the city of Las Vegas from the window. Still processing the events that happened last night, he couldn't help but smile.

"Worried about the press?" Joe interrupted Elvis's peace, remarking, "Those bastards are going to hang around here all day."

"Yeah, those damn reporters still haven’t gotten the message, I guess. I just hope they don't make life here a whole lot more complicated" Elvis said with a slightly exasperated expression on his face, whishing they’d go away as soon as possible.

"Well, you gave them something to talk about last night," Joe added with a laugh.

Elvis was taken by surprise, "Please keep her out of this damn circus, Joe. Don't even think about that. Oh, and speaking of last night, she's not a tip-worthy pretty face. She's somethin’ else."

"Man, I was just talking about the earthquake." Joe, sensing Elvis's tension, wisely avoided delving into the topic but knew something significant had occurred the night before.

Elvis remained silent, deep in thought. Suddenly, the Colonel entered the room, exclaiming "My boy! My boy!" with a display of effusiveness. Elvis turned around quickly to see who had just entered the room.

"Hello, sir. What brings ya to the penthouse?" he asked calmly.

"Good news! I spoke to Mark, the International director, about the incident last night. He'll pay us 40 percent more in the next five performances. Elvis Presley, after this earthquake accident, is making a great effort, as neither the hotel nor its employees are safe anymore"

Elvis looked directly at him when he mentioned "employees," realizing he meant y/n.

Elvis's eyes widened as the Colonel proceeded to speak. After what had happened last night, it didn't surprise him that the Colonel was trying to get more money out of the situation. Observing the Colonel’s dramatic flair, Elvis remained visibly upset.

"Alright, so... 40 percent more for the next five shows, got it. Anything else, sir?" Elvis said, acting cold towards the Colonel and not giving him the sympathy he was hoping to get.

"Yeah, and don't worry, kid. The employees won't bother you or put you at risk again. Especially that damn woman," the Colonel asserted, pleased with the outcome of his discussion with the director.

"Is she fired?" Elvis asked in a darker tone, causing Joe to grow concerned about Elvis's reaction.

"No, son. But she's where she's most useful—dealing with the press out there. The less time she spends inside the building, the better," the Colonel said, adopting a tone that left unclear whether he was aware of Elvis's mood.

Relieved that y/n wasn't fired but annoyed with each response from the Colonel, Elvis asked "Where is he?" Darkness etched his face.

"Who?" the Colonel asked, confused.

"The director. I need to talk to him," Elvis said, attempting to be polite.

"Look, boy, if anyone has to talk to him, it's me. Don't worry and focus on your performance, okay?" The Colonel replied with authority.

Feeling helpless, Elvis didn't appreciate the Colonel's tone. He wanted to do something, and everything felt unfairly constrained. Moreover, he wanted to ensure y/n's safety.

Elvis stood up confidently, and headed to the door, prompting Joe to intervene, concerned about potential mistakes.

"Elvis, think carefully about what you're going to do. Please don't mess things up. Today is your show," Joe implored, meeting Elvis's eyes. He knew that the director was a powerful person in business.

Elvis, exchanging a knowing look with Joe, left his room.

"Boy! Don't you dare go alone!" the Colonel exclaimed as Elvis walked away.

Joe, realizing the importance of Elvis's intentions, stood between the Colonel and Elvis, who was moving further away.

“For God's sake, he's not going to war or something. He just goes to the office. We have a lot of men around and security” Joe said, placing a hand on the Colonel's chest to stop him.

Elvis, witnessing this from down the hall, he gave him a quick nod and a warm smile of gratitude and appreciation. Joe's support and understanding of Elvis's intentions didn't go unnoticed and Elvis felt grateful towards him.

En route to the office, Elvis, used to signing documents in his room, felt disoriented. Yet, he walked with confidence. Upon reaching the elevator, he found Doris.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed on the verge of a heart attack. “Good afternoon, Mr. Presley!”

Elvis's expression changed from a slightly frustrated tone to a more relaxed and calm one when he saw Doris, the cleaning lady. Her reaction caught him off guard, but he couldn't help but be amused by how spooked and surprised she was to see him at the elevator.

In his signature warm manner, he greeted her and said, "Oh, dear... Don't be scared, it's just me” he said, still laughing “How are you, darlin’?” Elvis asked in a friendly and endearing tone to make her feel as comfortable as possible.

“I… I'm fine. Everything… i-is… fine. Wonderful, I would say!” Doris said, trying to calm down, smiling at Elvis as if she were a teenager in love again.

Elvis, known for his warmth, turned to Doris, placing a hand on her back, and asked, “Just one question, darlin’. Would ya know where I can find the executive office?”

“Oh sure! He is downstairs, second floor. Turn right into the second hallway.” Doris answered with a wide smile.

"Thank you, honey,” Elvis expressed his gratitude, and they fell into silence. Doris looked at Elvis, and she eyed the elevator door, restraining herself as if she were about to explode. Together, they headed towards the second floor.

Exiting the elevator, Elvis bid farewell to Doris. As the doors closed, he heard Doris giggling and screaming inside the elevator. Unable to contain himself, Elvis burst into laughter.

Upon finding the office, Elvis entered Mark's office without knocking first, showing that he didn't really care to follow protocols or formalities in those kinds of situations. He was straight to the point and didn't want to beat around the bush.

Mark, the director of the International, was taken aback by Elvis's unannounced presence. “Um…uh…good afternoon, Mr. Presley, what a pleasant surpris-”

“Why did ya move the girl outside, Mark?” Elvis interrupted with a serious and concise question, making it clear he was there to address the issue.

Mark was surprised by the way Elvis entered his office and asked him that question. He wasn't expecting Elvis to be so straightforward and direct with his question. Mark was trying to come up with an explanation right away, thinking of ways to justify his actions and explain what he did. "Well... Uh... You see, Mr. Presley, the hotel has been receiving a lot of negative attention lately because of the earthquake, and we don't want staff members to interfere with our image and reputation. We thought we would be doing you a favour by moving her outside", Mark replied.

Elvis approached Mark to emphasize his words. “She didn't put me in danger. I'm the one who put her in danger. Yeah, I shot the door, but I'll get that damn door fixed by the end of the day. I ain't gonna let no buncha sons of bitches take advantage of her in this weather. Ya hear?.” Elvis's tone and demeanor shifted, asserting his authority and rejecting Mark's approach.

“I already talked to The Colonel about it, don't worry about the door,” Mark said casually, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

"I tell ya what, that's fine, but now I'm worried about her. I have never seen such a dedicated working woman in all my days. She was real professional with me, and she kept me safe with the best of her abilities. As for my men, some of them couldn't give two shits about me, meanwhile she's done more in one night than they have all week.“ Elvis stated, facing the director, refusing to let Mark overlook the matter.

Taking a sip of whiskey, Mark contemplated how to resolve the situation without jeopardizing his relationship with Elvis or clashing with The Colonel.

“I want one of her duties to be working for me.” Elvis declared bluntly, preempting any suggestions from Mark. Elvis knew precisely what he wanted.

Mark slowly nodded his head, realizing he was in a weak position. He knew that to deny Elvis's request was not an option, so he had to agree to it while he could. "Alright, Mr. Presley. Miss y/ln will join us tomorrow to provide you with her services " Mark said, knowing that this was better for him than to deny Elvis.

Satisfied with the outcome, Elvis thanked the director and left the office. He headed to the elevator with a sense of justice, knowing he would finally be able to see her again and value her work as she deserved.

————

After dealing with the press, I was mentally drained. The countless questions forced me to improvise in order to avoid any misunderstandings. It was exhausting, and I couldn't stop thinking about Elvis. His presence haunted me all day long, and I felt as if he was inside my mind.

As I headed to the elevator to return to my office, the doors opened, revealing Elvis. I froze and blushed, despite hiding his gaze under those glasses, I could only focus in his eyes.

Elvis's expression shifted to surprise when he saw me. We looked at each other, happy to meet again, even if only for a few seconds in the elevator.

As time passed, the doors started closing again, we kept looking at each other and we seemed to lose track of time, but Elvis swiftly stopped the doors from closing with his arm.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Elvis approached me. “Well, well, if it ain’t my earthquake buddy. Meeting like this, who would’ve thought?”

“Elvis! What a surprise to see you again in the middle of this chaos.” I answered while stepping inside the elevator.

Elvis fixed his eyes on me, purring in my ear playfully, "Looks like we got stuck somewhere else pretty soon, darlin’. The universe is tryin’ to tell us somethin’."

As his calming voice washed over me, I couldn't help but react instantly. A wave of chills ran down my spine, as I felt my face turn red with embarrassment.

Elvis continued being playful. “So, how was your day, darlin’?” he lightened the mood, trying to ease the tension in my body. He seemed to read my body language very easily.

“Oh… well, after dealing with a somewhat difficult boss, I had to handle some clients and the press since everyone is going crazy over a certain 'Elvis Presley.'” I said, in a playful tone.

Elvis laughed, nodding in agreement with my comments about everyone going crazy.

“Do you know him by any chance?” I continued, jokingly.

“Mmm… I know somethin’ ‘bout him, yes, but I promise ya he's a good fella,” he said with a smile.

Elvis shifted into a charming mode. “M’sorry for any trouble I might've caused ya last night, sweetheart. But I'll make it up to ya”

“Don't worry, it's just that the guy from above is a little crazy, that's all,” I answered, referring to my boss.

Elvis fixed his eyes on my face and touched my cheek. “Oh, darlin', you near 'bout froze to death out there” he said in a worried tone, noting my red nose and purple lips.

I had never had Elvis so close; I could feel the warmth of his hand soothing my cheeks. I couldn't help but let out a whimper. As his warm breath approached, it seemed like he was about to kiss my lips.

He transported me to a kind of paradise without realizing the reality. Immediately afterward, the elevator door began to open. Swiftly, I returned to my position, with my arms crossed. Elvis kept looking at me few more seconds after he directed his gaze towards the elevator doors.

I was surprised to see that it was Doris who entered. She stared confused at me and Elvis, and vice versa, repeating the process several times.

Elvis, with a playful expression, turned to Doris, making an exaggerated bow. “Doris, darlin', your entrance shines brighter than any ol' Vegas show!” he said while smirked, twitchting his lip.

Doris's expression changed dramatically, softening at Elvis' words. She began to blush, and a special gleam appeared in her eyes as she looked at him with awe.

Despite my attempts to maintain a neutral expression, I couldn't help but smile at the absurdity of the situation. When Doris noticed my smile and looked me up and down with a sense of superiority, I could almost hear her thinking that Elvis would never speak to me in such a way.

If Doris only knew...

Doris, baffled but delighted, blushed and stammered “Oh, thank you, Mr. Presley!y-you are such a gentleman.”

Elvis, maintaining eye contact with me, decided to take the charm up a notch, throwing a curveball into the mix.

With a faux-serious expression, leaned in conspiratorially. “Doris, darlin', your job goes beyond the usual. You're the unsung hero 'round here, no doubt”

I just wanted to get out of that elevator so I could laugh at ease. I didn't know the fun side of Elvis. I tried to hold in my laughter as best I could and remain silent.

"I always thought my scrubbing skills were my secret weapon!" Doris was visibly nervous, fixing her hair in a futile attempt to compose herself.

With a wink, Elvis said, “Well, Wonder Mop!, your secret is safe with me.” He looked at me, holding back the urge to laugh.

I looked down at the floor and shook my head while smiling. Elvis was so cheeky. How could he be so sensually shameless? He knew exactly how to deal with any woman.

Finally I arrived at my destination floor, my time in the elevator seemed very short. I got out of the elevator and turned to them. “Have a good day,” I said, smiling and looking at Elvis intently.

“Have a good day, darlin’” Elvis replied back.

As I turned to start the walk towards my office after the elevator had opened, I heard the voice coming from the elevator, "Finally alone, Mr. Presley" Doris' declaration of her intentions was clear, although the elevator doors had yet to shut.

While my back was to them, I couldn't help but laugh as I made my way to my office. Elvis' laughter rang out as he heard my reaction, and the sound carried across the entire floor, filling the space with his cheerful roar.

~ Few hours later…~

After our meeting in the elevator, I just had a goofy smile the entire shift. Even though the hotel was full because of his performance, I was still happy. He will make it up to me... what does that mean?

With no warning, Alex burst into the hallway, shouting in a sharp tone.

“Y/N! Come to your office RIGHT NOW”. I looked at him a little confused, and started to worry. Many things went through my head at that moment, expecting the worst.

Upon entering the office, breathless and prepared to confront whatever challenges may lay ahead, I was met with a sight that took me by surprise.

Large box, adorned with white bows, laid on the desk, as Alex grinned at my entrance with a gleam in his eye, his excitement palpable. "I think Santa left you a gift" he remarked with a playful tone, curious to see me open the box and reveal the contents within.

Taking Alex's remarks in good humor, I replied, "I don't think it's him... right?" As I moved towards the box.

Once I untied the ties and managed to lift open the box, my surprise was immediate as I looked inside to find a white fur coat within. There was also a letter on top of the coat. As I opened the envelope, I had an instant reaction of curiosity and excitement:

“Don’t freeze out there while I’m not with you, baby. Meet me at midnight, backstage. E.”

And then my heart skipped a beat.

Part 3 here

Need to recap? Part 1 here

[pommedepersephone]

You Say Potato, I Say Excellent! Or blocking, dialogue and legacy of morality tales in ‘The Resurrectionists’ minisode PART I

Alternate title: how Aziraphale’s naivety in this episode was supposed to make you a bit outraged

I have to shout out to @bowtiepastabitch for their AMAZING historical analysis of this minisode - it prompted me to finish this long ramble that has been drifting in my notes. Anyway, I have a major obsession with the ways blocking and dialogue interplay in Good Omens - you can check out my analysis of the blocking in the flashbacks in S1. But The Resurrectionists is really something special. This got so long I am splitting it into two parts. See Part II here!

I should start with three important caveats that brought me to this analysis -

If we accept that S1 is narrated by God, then I propose that S2 is being told from the viewpoint of our Ineffable Man Shaped Beings - and they are NOT reliable narrators.

All three minisodes share a feeling of being… stories. They feel like a slightly exaggerated version they might be told between two old friends sitting in the back room of a bookshop, soused off wine and whisky. Like a journal entry that you don’t actually expect outsiders to see.

All three minisodes have some relation, in style and structure, to film and literature. I'm focusing on the lit aspect here. A Companion to Owls is very illustrated bible. Nazi Zombies from Hell is a pulp fiction master class. So what is The Resurrectionists? A morality tale.

My first thought when we opened on the romantic graveyard date in Edinburgh was “OH it’s like a penny dreadful!” but it didn’t take me long to reassess. Morality tales are a genre of children’s literature that was extremely popular in the early 1800s where the minisode is taking place. But THIS morality tale itself is a more nuanced version of these stories, more along the lines of what an author important in the Good Omens universe would pen. So, first, a little bit of history behind morality tales and a very important author to know, then we get to the blocking and dialogue!

Morality Tales for Children

There had long been differing views in European circles of thought about the nature of children - were they born innately tainted by Original Sin, or were they born as blank slates? In the late 1700s to early 1800s, the view of the blank slate was winning with the help of highly influential educators like Friedrich Froebel (who coined the term kindergarten and emphasized the importance of play in learning.) 

At this same time, there was a rise in literature produced specifically for children. One of the most popular children’s genres? The morality tale. These stories showed Good triumphing over Evil and the importance of leading a respectable, Christian life. The stories were extremely binary, black and white in their presentation of morality, something which deeply influenced many authors who were raised reading them. Authors like G.K. Chesterton.

G.K. Chesterton 

Over his career, Chesterton wrote several plays, 80 books, 200 short stories, 4,000 essays, and several hundred poems. He’s an interesting guy, but suffice to say for our purposes - he was deeply Christian, and his work contains a lot of religious themes and symbolism which he used to write serious commentary on politics, economics and philosophy. If you haven’t read the book, you should know that it the dedication reads thus: 

The authors would like to join the demon Crowley in dedicating this book to the memory of G.K. Chesterton. 

In fact, Crowley says in the book that Chesterton was “The only poet in the twentieth century to even come close to the Truth." So it is probably relevant that Chesterton had opinions about children’s morality tales. He once wrote -

Many people have wondered why it is that children's stories are so full of moralizing. The reason is perfectly simple: it is that children like moralizing more than anything else, and eat it up as if it were so much jam. The reason why we, who are grown up, dislike moralizing is equally clear: it is that we have discovered how much perversion and hypocrisy can be mixed with it; we have grown to dislike morality not because morality is moral, but because morality is so often immoral. But the child has never seen the virtues twisted into vices; the child does not know that men are not only bad from good motives, but also often good from bad motives. The child does not know that whereas the Jesuit may do evil that good may come, the man of the world often does good that evil may come.

In summary, we know that children’s morality tales were supposed to teach important lessons about Good and Evil. We also know that later authors like G.K. Chesterton were aware of this genre and it influenced their writing (which in turn informs the Good Omens universe). So why pick this framework for this minisode? Because it is FRUSTRATING to watch, on purpose. We are meant to be annoyed with how Good has so little relation to right, to see how complicated doing real good can be, and it lays out a strong case for the complete inadequacy of black and white world views - and not just religious ones.

So (grabs gloves and a knife) let’s dissect the blocking and dialogue, shall we?

Part II: Blocking and Dialogue

[josephquinnswhore]

Don’t Listen - pedro pascal x bisexual! female reader

Summary: you receive hate from Pedro's fans because they think you're lying about your sexuality.

Word Count: 0.9k

Content Warning: bullying, online harassment, self doubt.

Note: I know it’s not pride month yet but IM PROUD TO BE APART OF THE COMMUNITY EVERY MONTH. Love you all so much 🏳️‍🌈. In Australia we recently just celebrated Mardi Gras - it inspired me to write something as a bisexual woman.

Pedro loved this time of the year, he supported the lgbtqi+ community loud and proud, using his platform, he became a public voice for people in the community to support them. You had reposted Pedro’s own tweet and made your own, being apart of the community as a bisexual woman, you wanted you extend your support and acknowledge the struggles the community has faced and face to this day, while admiring how far things had come in the past few decades.

Pedro’s ‘fans’ decided this was outrageous and they simply couldn’t accept it, Twitter users in general were blasting you, because you posted the pride flag and the bisexual flag, owning the hurdles and self doubt you’d felt with over the years coming to terms with your sexuality. Your brain kept repeating the words you read.

“Bisexual? She’s definitely cheated on pedro.” No. I would never.

“It’s any wonder she could attract one gender let alone two.” Everyone is beautiful.

“Fakeclaiming being apart of the lgbtqi community isn’t cute girl. Check yourself!!!!” I would never lie about something so important.

“Fucking dirty slut. Leave pedro and save yourself the embarrassment.” Why are do people say such horrible things.

“How can pedro be with someone like this?” He loves me, right?

Pedro hadn’t been oblivious to the fact that you’d received hate comments over the years as a result of being his girlfriend, it was expected, and usually you handled things great. Communicated with Pedro and your skin grew thicker over time, their comments about you held no weight, your kindness became power for you, disgregarding them like water off a ducks back.

This however, triggered you immensely and sent your mind spiraling, your brain searching for the memories that had traumatised you as a teenager growing up in a strict and homophobic household. It was the one and only thing you truly struggled with in your life, and thought you overcame.

Pedro has never seen a moment where you doubted yourself or a decision you seemed confident making. He had never been in the position where he has seen you so broken down as you are now;

Pacing the lounge room, tears streaming down your cheeks, red and swollen under eyes, and body trembling, the culprit of your broken demeanour coming from your phone, your eyes encaptured in a trance, unable to stop reading.

Pedro rushed forward and pulled you into his body, your arms in an awkward position press against your chests folded inward. You leaned your head on his shoulder, the softness of his sweater inviting you into him, adding to the comfort he provided. His hand caressed the back of your head, stroking your hair, his fingertips lingering on your scalp causing a ticklish tingle that send a shiver down your neck.

“Shhh, I’ve got you.” His hushed voice whispering in your ear made you weak, your heart soaring and overflowing with love as he swaddles you in his arms, protecting you.

“Look at me baby.” You comply, your lip is in a small pout as it wobbles, your eyes shining with a gloss that made your eye colour more enticing as they’re full of emotion, a redness covered your cheeks and top of your nose that begged to be kissed to relieve their anguish.

“No one knows your struggle. You are an incredible, brave and intelligent woman and I am so proud to call you my girlfriend.” Tears fall from your lash line and tickle your red cheeks momentarily before Pedro wipes the tear away with his thumb.

“Repeat it with me baby.” The sincerity in his voice has your chest constricting.

“I am incredible.” His brown eyes watch you as you repeat him.

“I am brave.” Your lips mimic the words and he cracks a small smile.

“I am intelligent.” Your lip stops wobbling through the last affirmation, your eyes drying, tear stains on your cheeks crusting.

“You deserve me, I deserve you.” Your voice repeats his words solidly, believing his reassurance.

“Take some breaths with me now baby okay? Just follow my lead.” Pedro inhales deeply, you inhale, your lungs expanding and holding the air for a few seconds before releasing the exhaling with him. Repeating the process, your mind becomes clear with clarity, the overwhelming anxiety dissipating as your usual levelness settles in your brain like a freshly dried blanket providing some comfort.

You open your eyes to Pedro staring down at you, observing you. His eyebrows are raised upward baring concern, lines in his forehead creasing at the action. “Thank you for bringing me back.” Your whisper barely reached his ears, your fingers tickling his face as you traced shapes along his patchy beard. “I’m always going to be here baby. You handled it incredibly, I’m so proud of you.” He leans his head down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead that lingers for a few seconds before parting. Brown eyes scanning your face, admiring the beauty of you, even after you had a breakdown. Pedro took you all, the good the bad, the fucking terrible. He would do it everyday if he had to. You were his girl, he would move mountains for you.

“I’m so lucky to have you. I love you Pedrito.” His nose comes down to nuzzle your own, foreheads pressed together lovingly in an effort of Pedro creating a safe space for you. “I love you baby, happy pride month.”