#and am dehydrating a bunch | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 9 months

Note

If you have any interest, how about a Spencer blurb where he's off on a case and gets or misses a late night call from the reader and is super worried, only to call them back and find them drunk and missing him. And of course the team rags on him after.

thank u for ur request! fem!reader

Spencer looks down at his phone and goes ghostly white.

"What?" Emily asks. "They had a sale at Waterstones and you missed it?"

Spencer clicks a bunch of buttons on his phone and brings it to his ear, crushing limp hair to his neck. "Seventeen missed calls," he says.

Derek comes to the rescue, though the lightness in his voice is slightly forced, "Don't panic, wonderboy. Who wouldn't be eager to talk to you at… two AM?"

"Is that the time difference?" Emily asks, leaning forward in concern.

Even Hotch puts down his pen. The team listens to the phone ring. It loops, loops, loops, and everybody breathes a sigh of relief when you finally answer. If something happened to you Spencer wouldn't survive it. Nor after everything he's already been through.

"Hey?" he says. There's a gap of silence. "Y/N, are you there?"

"Spencer!"

Spencer turns away from the table they've congregated at and looks through the open window at the parking lot, police cars roaming in and out of spaces. "What's wrong?"

"I miss you so much."

Spencer's nose wrinkles of its own accord. "Yeah? You sound odd. Are you– are you drunk?"

Derek laughs. Like marionettes held tight with strings suddenly cut, the team stop their stressing and send each other knowing, amused looks.

"Just a little bit!" you promise, clearly lying. Your voice catches on the syllables like they're coated in sticky honey, the slightest slurring tripping you up at the end. "We went for– to Chilli's. I had a blooming onion and seven margaritas!"

"I can tell."

"I'm really sorry, Spence, I know I'm not s'posed to call when you're away," you begin.

Spencer glances back. Rossi and JJ have returned with coffee and a late dinner, neither of them bothering to act as though they aren't listening to the conversation.

"No," Spencer says, turning back around and hunching inward, "that's the opposite of what we talked about, isn't it? You can call whenever you want to, but I can't, you know, always answer. I thought something bad happened. Maybe next time you could text me?" Rather than call almost twenty times and give him a heart attack.

Laughter echoes from behind. They team act like a teasing family sometimes, Spencer their teenage son who's never dated.

He would fluster if you weren't talking to him in loud but loving tones, "I can barely walk, texting wasn't happening. I'm para-spelgic."

"You're not," he says, firmly at first. "Are you? Who's with you? Is Rebecca there?" Rebecca being your best friend. Spencer trusts her to take care of you.

"She was, but she said that I– uh… She said I talked about you too much and made her nauseous. I feel kinda sick, too, but I just needed to talk to you, Spence. I miss you. I miss you, are you home soon?"

"Is Rebecca really not there?" he asks. He thinks about the room full of special agents he's standing in and drops his voice to a murmur. "I miss you too."

"She's making toast or something."

"That's good. It'll soak up the margaritas."

"I don't want toast, I want you! Please come home safe, angel. I really wish you were here to do that thing with my ear."

Spencer has to give in. You're speaking so loudly it's impossible the team hadn't heard it, but he can't find the will to be embarrassed any longer. You're drunk and ridiculous and all you can think about is him.

"I wish I was home, too. Do I need to worry about you? Make sure you're drinking water, okay? Alcohol makes you dehydrated, you'll get a bad headache."

"It makes me miss you," you whine.

He smiles fondly. "There's no cure for that." A door opens over the line. "Is that Rebecca?"

"Yeah." Murmurings. "She says sorry for letting me get so drunk, but she didn't let me do anything. It's like you always say, Spence, I can do whatever I set my mind to."

"And you set your mind to getting drunk at Chili's."

"Exactly!"

You talk a little more before he hangs up. He knows you're getting taken care of.

A gaggle of smiling faces greet him as he turns around. "Everything okay, 'angel'?" Derek asks.

Spencer puts his phone in his pocket. You'll text him in the morning with a hankering for Tylenol and sore eyes, but you'll be fine. "Everything's great."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

3K notes · View notes

dyeher · 4 months

Text

“We should get married.”

The sun is too hot. You’re too sweaty and dehydrated and horny and miserable to even entertain Mikey’s lackluster proposal. It’s not even a question. It’s a statement.

He looks serious too, and hot and sweaty and delicious. You want to lick the stray beads of sweat that have collected at the base of his throat.

But you can’t because it’d be unprofessional. So, you ignore him. Adjusting the lens on your camera to snap a few more pictures of him in the natural light.

There’s a giant hibiscus tucked behind his right ear and his head is tilted up to face the sky. He’s glowing. Between him and the orange hibiscus you’re not sure who the sun is loving more.

“Did you hear me?”

“Don’t move,” you instruct, ignoring him again. He’s turned to you for acknowledgment and the light catches in the strands of his hair. It frames him in a halo of light, and in this position the hibiscus pales in comparison to him. Him and his entirely too beautiful face. His upper body flexes lightly with the movement, exposing his tattoos for the camera and when he lifts a brow at you, your mouth goes dry.

“Don’t ignore me.”

“It’s too hot Mikey,” you complain. You’re still snapping away because Mikey is moving and every shift in the muscles of his arms as he turns toward you fully, the clenching of his abdominal muscles, you aim to capture them all.

“This was your idea,” he points out.

He’s right. It was your idea and you don’t regret it. Not when you get to see him like this (because there are very few people who can see him like this and you’re truly honored to be one of them).

He sits back, pressing his hands into the soft grass behind him and elongating his torso. His jacket falls open wider and more of the small tattoos scattered across his torso are revealed. You snap a few quick shots of him from the neck done.

“I know,” you smile as you sink onto the grass next to him to click through the last five pictures you’d snapped. They’re your favorite so far.

The first is a body shot that highlights the golden pendant that’s nestled in the hollow of his throat. There’s a small butterfly tattoo on his left collar bone and Roman numerals on his right. The tattoo above his Adam’s apple matches the wording in the pendant. ‘Monster’ printed in typewriter font.

The second is a torso shot. His skin is damp from a thin layer of sweat and the sun casts his normally pale skin in a golden glow. You’d managed to capture a bead of sweat as it trickled down between his abs.

The third makes you freeze.

“Delete that,” Mikey says from over your shoulder. The heat from his body seeps into your thin shirt as he plasters himself to your back.

He’s smiling in the picture. His head tilted downward as he looks at you through his lashes, a secretive smile playing on his lips. It’s breathtaking. You’d captured his entire top half. The flexing muscles in his arms, the bunching of the muscles in his shoulders.

“Nope!” you giggle, holding the camera out of his reach. Mikey glares playfully at you.

“The only way—” he lunges, eyes locked on your own, and snatches the camera from you, ignoring your indignant yelp“—you’re keeping this is if you say yes to marrying me.”

You squint, folding your arms in front of you. “You’re not serious.”

Mikey places the camera down carefully and turns his attention to you. “I am.”

He reaches for your hands and drags you into his lap, guiding them to his shoulders and settling his own on your waist. Your eyes narrow further as he pulls you closer to him. “I’m very serious.”

You’re a little taller than him like this and when he tilts his head up to look into your eyes the hibiscus falls free from behind his ear.

“I want to marry you,” he continues. “And then you can take as many pictures of me as you want.”

You swallow, your heart suddenly thundering as Mikey continues to stare at you. “As many pictures as I want? Do you promise?”

Mikey chuckles. “I promise.”

You eye him skeptically.

He presses a soft kiss to your chin. “I’ll even let you post some of them.”

Your eyes widen. “Really?!”

He presses a kiss lower to your throat, his hair tickling your chin as he nods.

“You’re not trying to trick me into saying yes right?”

Mikey lifts his head to level a blank look at you. “Would I need to trick you?”

“Fair point,” you acquiesce.

He leaves a kiss on your right cheek and then the corner of your mouth and when his tongue comes out to lick along the seam of your lips you sigh.

He takes advantage of that and kisses you deeply. When he pulls away you blink dazedly at him.

“Ask me to marry you again after I’ve had a shower,” you blurt.

Mikey’s brows furrow. “What?”

“I’m too sticky and sweaty and hot to think straight and your cock is right—” you roll your hips, dragging your clothed sex along his erection “—there! I’m not thinking straight.”

Mikey chuckles. “How about after I’ve fucked you ?”

You pause. “In the shower?”

Mikey groans, head falling against your shoulder. “Sure, I’ll ask you again after I’ve fucked you in the shower.”

“And I’ll say yes.”

“You fucking better,” he says. “I’d hate it if you forced my hand.”

You pretend you don’t hear the threat in those words.

#mikey x y/n #mikey x reader #mikey x you #manjiro sano x you #manjiro sano x reader #mikey fluff #manjiro sano fluff #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo rev x y/n #tr: beyablade.

693 notes · View notes

artiststarme · 1 year

Text

Eddie hates drinking water

Ugh, am I projecting a little bit? Very much so. I hate drinking water and now Eddie does too. I hope you like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Eddie had a strange vendetta against drinking water. Logically, he knew that it was good for the body and it was required to stay hydrated and you know, alive. However, he could never get behind it.

It tasted disgusting. Drinking water was like drinking nothing due to its plain taste and it unsettled Eddie more than anything else. Tap water tasted too plain, bottled water tasted too plain, and spring water was even worse because it tasted like metal. So, he avoided drinking water to the best of his ability. And his absolute detestment of water spread to the fruits and vegetables that tasted like water too. Carrots? No. Watermelon? No. Celery? Absolutely fucking not. Cucumber? He’d rather die.

It was just another one of the funny little quirks he had. Eddie Munson listened to outrageous metal music, stood on tabletops to deliver speeches, got accused of murder from time to time, and didn’t drink water.

Once his friends found out, they tried to convince him or sometimes outright trick him into drinking water in order to not die. Gareth would switch his Mountain Dew for flavored water (his attempt caused Eddie to dump the beverage over his head and kill his campaign character but Eddie did take a sip so he considered it a win). Jeff refused to play D&D with Hellfire until Eddie could drink a full bottle of water (Eddie didn’t try and Jeff slinked back to the drama room two weeks later in obvious defeat). Grant even tried to hold him down and pour water in his mouth when he was looking particularly dehydrated (that only ended with Eddie looking like a sad wet rat that glared at him for a month straight).

After his experience with the Upside Down and getting his name cleared, Eddie’s distaste of water continued. There’d been a small lapse at Skull Rock when water was the only thing to drink but now it was back full force. His friends and his uncle were still walking on eggshells around him, desperate not to spook him after such a harrowing experience, and unwilling to push the issue. However, Steve didn’t have that problem. Once he found out about his strange aversion, he vowed to get his boyfriend to drink water.

It started with offering Eddie a bottle of water on one of his visits to Family Video. It was a hot day and Eddie was still wearing his battle vest and a bunch of layers. Steve could see him sweating and he couldn’t afford to have him pass out due to heat stroke.

“Here man, drink this. It’s fucking hot out and if you don’t stay hydrated, you’re going to pass out.”

Eddie grimaced a little bit but took the water. “Thanks Stevie, I shall cherish this offering for the rest of my life.”

Steve just looked at him, completely unimpressed. “If you don’t drink that water, I’m not having sex with you for the rest of the month.”

That got Eddie’s attention. He wiped his sweaty bangs out of his eyes and looked at Steve in concerned bewilderment. “Seriously? Are you serious?”

“Completely.”

Eddie grumbled at him but popped the cap off and started chugging the entire bottle. When he saw Steve smiling out of the corner of his eye, he flipped him off with the hand not holding onto the water.

The kids looked on in wonder. Sure, they didn’t like hearing their babysitter proposition their dungeon master about sex. But if it got him to drink even a portion of the required daily water intake, they could make an exception.

It seemed to work so Steve kept doing it. From handing him a water bottle on the hot days to switching out his usual pop for water on his campaign nights. He even made him eat celery and watermelon on a few occasions. And Eddie seemed none the wiser to his plans!

The next time was at the Munson trailer. The boys had planned to do a picnic in the woods but the sky decided to open up and downpour so they were stuck inside. They decided to have their picnic right on the floor of the living room and sprawled out, blanket and all.

“What have you prepared for our midday feast, Chef Harrington? I assume caviar, tuna tartar, and the best foie gras?”

“Why would I feed you grass?” Steve asked him in confused offense. He wasn’t the best cook but he wouldn’t feed his boyfriend grass like a cow.

“What? Why would you have grass? I think we both know that I supply the grass in this relationship.” Eddie’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Now he had grass?

“Weed! What’re you talking about?” Eddie yelled, frustrated.

“Foy grass! You’re the one that said it!” Steve yelled back.

“No, foie gras! It’s duck kidney or some shit! I was just naming fancy foods.” Eddie explained.

“Oh okay. Well no, but I brought your favorite,” Steve told him. “Carrots and cucumbers! They didn’t have any of those pre-cut trays at the grocery store so I had to chop them myself. Bon appetit!”

Steve could see Eddie’s lips curl in disgust but he tried to hide it behind a fake smile. “Yum! I love… those.”

“Great! Once we finish these, I have turkey sandwiches and chocolate cake. Happy anniversary, babe.” Steve leaned over to give him a chaste kiss before placing the cucumbers in his hands.

Eddie looked down at the bag of misshapen sliced cucumbers for a moment before digging in and using a hand to hide his gags. “Great, this is great. You’ve outdone yourself, Stevie.”

Steve just nodded, eating the carrots while watching the amusingly disgusted faces Eddie was making.

Meanwhile, Wayne was sitting at the kitchen table drinking his coffee and watching the pair as he got ready for his afternoon shift. He knew how much Eddie hated water and everything that tasted like it so he was impressed with the Harrington kid. Anything that got Eddie to eat healthy foods on a semi-regular basis was good in his books.

As he watched Steve give him a piece of celery to eat and then a small kiss as encouragement, Wayne had an epiphany. He didn’t care that Eddie was being force fed vegetables against his will. His nephew was going to marry the Harrington kid whether he wanted to or not. God knows he was already part of the Munson family anyway.

Permanent tag list:@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium

#Eddie catches on eventually but doesn't stop drinking water and eating veggies out of fear of disappointing Steve #the corroded coffin boys see Eddie drinking water in front of Steve and think he's been possessed #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #uncle wayne #corroded coffin #gareth #jeff #grant

351 notes · View notes

baynetta · 10 months

Note

i love running to you whenever i had concept ideas because i feel like i wouldn’t be good enough to write them, i hope you don’t mind!

but omg, im listening to exhale by sabrina carpenter and i just got an idea—what if spider!yn just like…reaches a breaking point? like between the super hero life, her family life, and college life…she’s just super exhausted with everything, yk? i highly recommend listening to the song, it’s amazing <3

and miguel is dealing with a whole bunch of shit with his own life and matters so he doesn’t really see how exhausted and how bad she’s hurting inside until she shows up to hq the next day super exhausted. he’s giving her the rundown on the next mission and she’s trying her best to listen, but she ends up passing out due to lack of sleep and severe stress and he starts FREAKING OUT. like it genuinely breaks his heart seeing her like that.

exhale (mini fic)

there’s somedays you’ll ask yourself what you even bother to show up. what you even doing what you’re doing if it’s always causing you so much pain and distress, i mean you suppose to love these things right?… waking up at 5 am having to indure the loud horns and noisy neighbors, the feeling of the heavy cold smog making hard to catch a breath in such crowded streets that only nyc can offer, find a way to fit in such packed wagons. all this effort just to get to uni and being forced to face the hard but honest truth, that maybe you’re just not good enough. not good enough even for your family, it’s been countless times that you’ve been showing up late for dinner, all bruised up, evading your mom every time she touched the subject of you wanting to drop out, your late night scapes, how you became just so apart from everybody. what’s more difficult is how you stopped taking care of yourself, completely dissociating for days asking you how or when your life got to this point. you constantly are wishing to make yourself feel something, pulled you out from this stoic state. just the right moment when you feel comfortable enough to take off this weight that you been carry on for months. the truth it’s that you love saving people, be the hero that every person can feel protected by, but who’s taking care of you.

for miguel it hasn’t be easy either. when he decided to isolate himself planing the next mission, he started to miss again that warm-cozy feeling to have a company when he most needs it. it i’ll often think about what you said to him, about your family pissing you off lately. he couldn’t even listen to the rest of it, he just kept thinking of how much he’ll give to even have one. he took it as kick directly in the guts, something that just got incrustaded in his mind. he felt how the memories started to attack again, but this time he couldn’t make it stop, make them go away. he usually will find ways to distract himself, making the best out of his slightly nerdy hobbies, keep repairing the avarite sistem, train with the spider team, your smile, god.. when was the last time he ever saw it. you two had became so apart from each other the last couple of months that he barely has sees you without the mask, if he’s not giving you structions, he’s asking you to pay more attention, to be better. he wished he didn’t throw those dagger words at you, but you almost got killed and if that ever happened that’s on him..and only him. he just can’t.allow that.

as miguel gather the team to try give them a rundown of the next mission you could see just by the way he was standing, he’s simply not in the mood. and you were late as per usual. as you make your way into the room you try so hard to pass unnoticed by him, but even if you were wearing a sack of potatoes as a suit, you’ll never be overlooked by him, he just can’t help himself, always looking out for you, he’ll always find himself staring at you intensively. but do to the lack of sleep, and dehydration (srsly when was the last time you drink a glass of water?) impairing your muscle coordination making you stumble around, making noise, not paying attention. “oye! if you’re not going to pay attention at least you can’t stop distracting everybody”–. he barked. and you knew it was directed at you. it surprised both of you honestly. he really didn’t meant to do it, but as i said the man was stressing out lately. he usually will set you aside from the group, and reprehend you personally. but not today. and miguel could feel the instant regret kickin in as he sees the annoyed looks from everybody, feeling his heart sink deep in his chest as he sees you getting all flustered, distinguishing some harsh words being throwed across the room “agh, again?” “why she even here”. you noticed obviously, it was no strange feeling being a burden everywhere else but now here.. it was just too much, the pressure in your head starting to bump, feeling drizzled, how slowly your cheeks start to burn tangling your whole face, your legs start to numb, you took your mask off trying hard to reach for air, you were suffocating as you try to make your way out of there.

miguel notice it and it felt like his body went on autopilot, he wasn’t thinking anymore, he got to get to you. he calls out your name several times, but it felt like echoing in the back or your head as you start loosing conscience of your own steps, so you trip and inmidiatly got cought by a fellow spider partner from the hq, you try to mumble some words but you can’t even get to a full sentence. the last thing you distinguish is an “are you okay?” and all pitch black.—to nothing. miguel for the other hand was panicking, he’s face was full on horror, as he’s making his way in the circle of people that gathered around your passed out body. he just throw them around —“EVERYBODY GET THE FUCK OUT!”—. he yelps tragically, everyone inmidiatly started to back out, they simply don’t want to deal with him in that state (yeah he’s scary protective) as he gets to you, he inmidiatly drops on his knees, he’s in shock how could this happen, how could he allow this to happen. he took you delicated frame by his hands, one caressing your back, and the other supporting your head. he looks around in desbilief, he wanted to hunt down every single one of those crows eyes staring you down, not doing anything. fuck it made him go violent. “i said..everybody..out..out”—.

it was quiet but sharp, it’s visible how his fangs started to peak out and his eyes are mixed rage but an inscrutable pain, the man was not playing anymore. as the room left empty and your pulse started to stabilize thanks to the aracnid sense, preventing your body to go on an physical trauma. you sense how little strings of hair peaked at your noise, making it tingle, as you’re eyes adjust at the sudden light assaulting your sensitive vision. as you breathe in you feel a light-weight on your chest that moves with you as your exhale the lodge air off your lungs. you peek down and see miguel’s head resting on it. “hey” you whisper. he looks up to you with his glossy puppy eyes, his thumbs now brushing your lips making a trace down to your chin. “i’m sorry mi morenita” god when was the last time he called you like that, “i was not there for you”—. he coos as he presses his front with yours. “i’m..i..missed this” that’s the only thing that you managed to say, and it was true, you missed his intimate contact, his gentle touch. but more importantly you missed feeling safe.

(pd: i hope is not too much i got inspired, and also this hits home particularly so it’s the first time a relate this much with a y/n 😭)

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖eyza’s mail #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderverse #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara fluff

297 notes · View notes

jaynovz · 6 months

Text

Is it time for me to foam at the mouth about one of Silver's most batshit insane decisions in the entire show?

(So the ramble underneath this is literally 2k, so like, make good choices I guess. also pls imagine me as Pepe Silvia meme the entire time)

So I see people talking a lot about how Silver is fucking deranged bonkers banana cakes he has 10,000 snakes in his head instead of a brain and of course I agree this is just Canon.

However, the moments that we focus on are like 3.3, doldrums talking to Billy about Flint controlling reality when he's starving and dehydrated or like what he says in response in 3.10 when Flint tells him his story, about Thomas.

Both of those are very very good moments for Silver being fucking crazy and saying things out loud with his human mouth that no regular unfucked human being would come up with, he set new RECORDS for it, agreed.

TODAY I want to talk about a different moment, what I think is the most egregious example of Derangement. It's in the Silver-Flint gold conversation in 2.7.

Quick context-- Before Silver meets back up with Flint in 2.7 he was sent after a VERYYYY dissatisfying conversation (aka "the gold is still a priority" where Silver challenges Flint on the Vane and the fort and Abigail Ashe plan and Flint lies to his face) to go influence the men to vote for Flint's side of things over Hornigold's. After dealing with the Logan situation in the middle of that (which I don't actually think Flint ever finds out about Silver helping to cover that shit up, but that's not the point right now) he shows back up right in the middle of Hornigold addressing the pirate council and accusing Flint of a bunch of crimes (most of which are accurate lol) and Flint is Angy about "where the fuck has you [Silver] been?" and Silver tells him (loud enough for the entire council to hear mmhmm) that the gold is gone.

Now the order of the scenes, the timeline, means The Reveal about the gold is with Max later, (right, that later is the point it becomes real for us because we're finding out the same as Max's that Silver has made the gold disappear) and so it's hard to keep in mind until a second watch how the entire time there in the tent and Silver is putting on this performance, such a good show about it the whole time and then he goes and talks and gives the speech to the whole fucking combined crew and that entire time we don't know yet.

But Silver knows. He has already engineered a situation where he has convinced to the scouts that they're going to sell the location of the gold to another crew!! He has already removed the Urca gold from right under Flint's nose!! (Which is like the thing that Flint has been working towards for an unknown amount of years since he found out about it right? This thing, this sort of mythical amount of money, which is going to solve problems and effect change and build a future and fulfill Thomas ideals.)

And while he's talking he has already waved his hand and made it disappear in the narrative and he did it so skillfully that we don't even suspect that this is happening until the reveal and so sometimes it's hard to go back and think about the 2.7 tent conversation.

Potentially it doesn't quite HIT on the first watch. Maybe not even the second.

But yeah what I want to draw attention to is that... this ENTIRE TIME, from the moment Silver shows back up, he is putting on the performance of his fucking life. He's ALREADY met the scouts Vincent and Nicholas on the jetty, he's ALREADY convinced them ON THE FLY ON A WHIM to lie to Captain Flint. He's ALREADY coached them through exactly what to say to sell it, to lie to Captain James Flint's fucking face. right??? and THEN only after that does he goes to meet Flint.

And the very specific thing I am focusing on isn't even THAT gamble, which is fucking SCARY CRAZY ALREADY. But the WAY this boy pulls the bluff out, the lengths he goes to during the next convo in the tent about "there is no we. the gold was the inducement" and all that. You know the scene.

I wanna underline how Silver decides midstream, midargument to... FLIP IT AROUND and accuse Flint of making the gold disappear.... when Silver literally just made the gold disappear.

Silver: I believe I've been clear about the nature of my investment here. The gold was the inducement. Now no gold… Flint: It's an unfortunate development that we have to adapt, and quickly. Silver: Adapt? I've had about my fill of adapting lately. Doing your bidding, keeping the crew in line for you. Flint: I wasn't the only one to benefit from that. Silver: It certainly seemed that way. Even now you're the only one benefitting from it. Flint: What are you saying, that I'm benefitting from the gold having disappeared? Silver: It certainly solved a number of problems for you, didn't it? I have half a mind to wonder if you didn't orchestrate this whole thing to your advantage.

So yeah I'm uh, I'm literally foaming im frothing im cappucino right now. I want to put this UNDER THE MICROSCOPE AND STUDY HIM. what in the FUCK. Silver knows the entire time, this ENTIRE EXCHANGE, that not only is the gold still on the beach but that he is gonna fucking SELL THE LOCATION to Max and Rackham. And then sits there cool as a fucking cucumber with his mask of irritability...(because of course if he had nothing to do with it!!) Like of course he would be mad that the gold is gone, because the gold was the inducement RIGHT.

All of the rest of that is a foundation for like the craziest part isn't necessarily that he's putting on the act That's in keeping with him, we've seen that, we saw that he was getting more and more frustrated and that part doesn't surprise us that like he would... I mean we saw him steal the page and we saw him burn the page and we have seen him make these types of kind of batshit decisions so we're like "okay this this checks out."

But the truly deranged part where it goes beyond like it just like they're like literally... he. he. HE ACCUSES FLINT OF THE THING HE JUST DID. There was no reason for you to say that and at this point it's like he is SEEING how CLOSE he can get to the fire, he is seeing how much RISK can be pulled off. He's getting off on poking and sleeping dragon in the eye when he knows very well the entire time that he stole the fucking dragon's gold.

"I have half a mind to wonder if you didn't orchestrate this whole thing to your advantage."

I--

it's... it's some reverse psychology bluffing gamble, it's "let me say what has happened, let me literally ADMIT WHAT I JUST DID but no YOU did it, I projected it onto YOU. hope that you don't think about that too hard. let me hope that this works out"

There was... THERE WAS JUST NO REASON FOR IT. He was already pulling it off, the conversation was. "There is no we" and "I was clear about the nature of my investment" THAT'S ENOUGH. STOP.

there's just no reason for him to have done that but it's because he's fucking crazy he's a crazy person

The way his brain works just does not follow lines of logic like a sane human being!!

FURTHER POINT--

this is how we also get to the point where he convinces himself to go to Charles Town (because we see him go to Charlestown!! we see him on the ship the next time!! in 2.8!!)

and he says to the scouts that, yknow, paraphrasing "we came on this endeavor in order to allay suspicion about the fact that we have all double crossed this crew that we are sailing with right now including Flint"

now the thing about that is that and I think I've mentioned this before, but I don't know if I've said it in a formal post that so many people had defected/deserted because the gold was gone and they had no appetite for storming the fort after that. And then Silver went and convinced to the rest of the crew remaining to go to Charlestown to seek the pardons right and that's what Flint wanted him to do. So if Silver then defected because the gold was indeed the inducement and there was no gold then I don't think Flint would have fucking batted an eye!!!

And neither would anyone else!! because even though Silver is very useful to Flint as a tool right now, Flint was very mission-focused, very Miranda-focused very pardons-focused, very "let's fulfill Thomas's dream"-focused. So even though he does and has needed Silver a lot recently to influence the crew, I don't think he was really thinking about him basically for two-three episodes after that basically. Cuz they don't talk again, right, and they are just not in each other's orbit for 2.8, 2.9, 2.10.

So what that tells me is that Silver goes to Charlestown and he just... really didn't have to he could have stayed in Nassau and assisted Max or just laid low until the gold got retrieved and then potentially taking his share and left before Flint crew got back!!

I've talked about this specific part before where Silver says that their safety is contingent upon whether Flint is successful in his endeavor or not. Like he says that out loud to Vincent (which is the most bat ship banana cakes bonkers thing ever) about it because he's basically hitched his horse to the outcome of this pardon situation when he absolutely didn't have to do that to get the goal he and the scouts could have all just deserted and no one would have been the wiser because so many crew had, including Dufresne, because of the gold situation!!

Now there's some arguments here about well.... one of our main characters cannot just leave.

But because the writers have created a party member who wants to leave the party what they then keep having to do is invent more and more convoluted mental gymnastics to himself to continue staying and following Flint which is why at the end of the day I sort of can't really see a situation where the Silverflint thing is not like the main thing because they're both obsessed with each other in different ways (and Silver is obsessed first because he doesn't fucking leave and there's a bunch of reasons he should and there's a bunch of chances for him to do so) and so it all starts to look real fucking gay

But yes uh circling back... Silver lies to Flint's fucking face about the gold, going so far as to ACCUSE HIM of making it disappear, then goes on an extremely dangerous errand trapped on a ship full of people who he double crossed with two scouts with loose lips... when, in order to guarantee his future, if we're looking at actual real logic and actual real pragmatism and survival instincts and not just "oh I have to follow Flint because ummmm -dial up sounds-",

Then he should have stayed in Nassau.

#black sails #black sails meta #john silver #long post #disclaimer that I basically just sat in the bed last night and did speech to text ramble to my phone for an hour #and this is what we came out with #please imagine in all ways but physical me sitting next to you on a comfy couch with two fingers of rum #furiously ranting and gesturing about him with a roller coaster amount of volume variation #and you would be accurate as to the mood this post is supposed to convey #thoughts #like I cannot stress how long of a post this is I am not sorry but also buckle up buttercakes #i ahve been waiting for nearly a month to fully articulate this and I still dunno if I managed it #okay I've been waiting three years #i think i repeat myself oops #Charles town au

91 notes · View notes

geraskierfanficprompts · 14 days

Text

Prompt 4

Geralt is the captain of a pirate ship, named "Kaer Morhen." Perhaps he's still a witcher, perhaps he's just a regular old human (with white hair and golden eyes? Lol) His brothers (and "cousins" from other witcher schools) Now I can see this going two different ways, so choose a favorite (or make up your own, I am only the beginning, I hold no affront of being anything more) Jaskier is a nobleman's son, aboard his family's ship, possibly on his way to be forced into a marriage to a woman he doesn't love. And either he falls overboard or he's shoved off as a murder attempt, but he's lost in the ocean. Lambert (or someone else, but I love to imagine how Lambert would attempt to call this out to his captain who he doesn't take seriously 90% of the time, #brothers) calls that he spots a man bobbing in the sea, and they haul him up. The majority of the crew sees sight of his jewels and finery and insists on holding him ransom. But when the prisoner wakes up and isn't afraid of death, Geralt looks into this a little more. Apparently their prisoner won't get a ransom because his entire family despise him and his want to run away and become a bard. Funny. Most pirate ships have entertainers aboard to help the pirates deal with months of nothing but ocean. Perhaps they'll have use of this dumb twink after all. OR, option number two Jaskier is a nobleman's son, chained and starved for the crime of wanting to become a bard and not wanting to marry some prissy noblewoman. He hears a lot of loud noises and screams and then a bunch of burly men in fur cloaks stomp down and start rifling through their supplies. One catches eye of him and immediately yells to the captain. The captain is a very handsome man with silver locks and bright eyes, and the dreaded pirate captain is treating Jaskier with more kindness and gentleness than his family or their workers ever have. The pirate hauls Jaskier up into his arms and carries him to their own ship, laying him down in his own bed, and looking over his injuries and sending one of his crewmembers to make hm a fine meal. Jaskier begins telling the captain of his abusive life beforehand and mentions that all he's ever wanted is to spread music and love, and shockingly enough, this big scary (gorgeous) man doesn't even laugh at him for it.. Oh fuck he's falling in love-

♡!Optional addons!♡ • Geralt gayly teaching his bard how to swordfight!!!

• Perhaps Jaskier's family is crueler and has done more than beat him, perhaps they've stabbed him or something, and the very last thing he sees before he passes out from bloodloss is Geralt (Maybe he even thinks he's an angel! Lmfao)

• Geralt getting lovingly bullied by his brothers for taking care of his songbird so well

• Geralt's crew revenge-robbing or revenge-killing Jaskier's family if we do Option one for the story (attempted-murder route), since it's implied it happens in Option Two while they ransack the ship-

• Perhaps I'll do a sequel for this prompt one day for Mermaid Jaskier, I do LOVE mermaids, take this as a much smaller and much less detailed prompt for if you want that idea, too! Perhaps the Pankratz ship has a captured mer aboard, parched and dehydrated (I just mostly think it'd be funny if Geralt was checking his pulse and if he has any injuries while random other witches dump buckets of sea water on him-)

28 notes · View notes

the-twi-light-zone · 1 year

Text

When I Met You, When I Chose You

When I first met Charlie Swan he was responding to a call with an aggravated female at the local grocery store. Aggravated female in question was me and in my defense I was just getting off a long shift from the hospital when some asshole pulled up behind me yelling about how I cut him off. Needless to say he got to close and said aggravated female sent a right hook and knocked him on his ass. I don’t know when my judgment left me but between being called a few choice words and some man getting in my personal space I lost it.

I admit not my best moment and I did get my groceries and once I got out of the store and loaded my trunk the police showed up. A little more than a few witnesses described the encounter and in the back of chief Swan’s cruiser I went. As I sit in the back of the cruiser chief Swan makes way for the driver's seat. The cold air he lets in is a bit refreshing as it was stuffy.

“So chief Swan I gotta ask, is there any way we can let all this go? I just need to go to bed. I got off a long shift from the hospital and honestly this wasn’t my best moment today I will admit that” My voice fills the empty air around us as he sits there filling out paperwork. “Well miss Brax I only needed to make sure you weren’t going to be a danger so I don’t see why we couldn’t let this go. You have a clean record, and I don’t show a history of you randomly swinging on random people.” His voice is gruff but his eyes that flash into the mirror when I snort is all I needed to finish both of our thoughts. “I mean no, but he really needed that. You don’t just roll up on someone like that, but anyway, when do you think I’ll be able to get out of here?”

He looks away and continues writing down on some documents, and when he puts his pen down. He hops out of the car and opens the back door and begins to help me out. “Face away miss Brax.” Charlie asks as I am finally standing outside the vehicle. “Sir, yes sir.” I say as I stomp my left foot and turn. His fingers are warm as he handles my wrists and hands delicately and takes off the cuffs that were detaining me. I sigh in relief as I bring my hands back around to the front of me. “Thanks Chief, I’ll see you around on a better day I hope...” I say open ended as I turn to face him walking backwards towards my car. He nods chuckles and waves, “me to miss Brax, have a better rest of your day.” He says as I nod in return smiling lightly and respond with a you too.

~Two Months later~

What a day, another busy day and it only got busier as it seems the flu is going around, and a bunch of dehydrated teens and over worried parents sitting in my ER is not what I needed today. Receiving notice that I was being moved from my current position at this hospital across the US to Georgia. I had a choice to make as currently my ‘friend’ Charlie was currently waiting for me to show up at his home and go to dinner. I honestly didn’t know if I wanted to leave. Although there was nothing really holding me here, I still felt the need to at least stay for longer to see what could be.

My thoughts follow me all the way to Charlie’s and as I park my car, I look over to see him already at the front door hands in his front pockets. A grin almost shadowed completely by his mustache. I grin at him and grab my bag as I pull myself out of the driver’s seat. I walk up the sidewalk and up his front steps. The front door swings open and Charlie waves me in. “Now my day is complete.” I say as I walk in and straight to the couch where I plop down and wait for Charlie to announce if he is ready. “So, the diner in town okay with you?” He asks as he comes around and sits down next to me.

Laughing I nod, “yes Charlie, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I say. Nodding he stands with a grunt and turns to offer me his hand to pull me up which I take. I begin to walk to the door and before I know it were being sat at the table in the corner by the windows. Sitting to Charlies right we both greet Cora as she sets down our menus and gives us a smile and makes some small-town talk and gossip. Charlie gets his normal steak dinner and I get my normal salmon and salad. Stealing a few fries from Charlie when he looked away, although I know he knew I took them.

“So, I got a call today from my agency Charlie.” I start off as I sip on my Soda. Charlie furrows his brow and nods, “what did they want?” He asks as he wipes his moth with a napkin and rests his hands on either side of his plate. I hesitate before I respond not knowing where this conversation might go. “They said I have one week left here before I am being relocated to Georgia. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go but figured I would talk to you about it first.” My eyes stay on his face to watch his reaction. He swallows, pursed his lips and looks down at his empty plate.

“Well, I think I would like it if you stayed, but I’ll still be here for whatever you decide.” He says and looks into my eye a small smile resting on his face. I smile and rest my hand on his, “well looks like I’ll be quitting and finding permanent residence here huh?” He chuckles taking my hand in his.

#charlie swan #twilight #charlie swan x reader #twilight imagines #twilight imagine

197 notes · View notes

sgiandubh · 8 months

Note

Earlier you were talking about icecreamgate. You said that’s a story for another time so can you elaborate please? I know was in the video but is there more to it?

Also please share about the flat situation! Sorry I’m so new to this fandom and feel like I missed a bunch!!

Dear Icecreamgate Anon,

Yes. At the Savannah (not Atlanta, and a heartfelt shoutout to wonderful @rosfrank, who gently corrected me and who was there to tell the tale) SCAD promo event, eagle-eyed shippers saw S helping himself from C's ice cream, using the same spoon.

This is legit documented and the picture (very clear) regularly does the rounds via reblogs.

Now I don't know about you, but I can tell you how it happens in here. Madame Mère and the man I love are the only people I share my spoon, thermos bottle or champagne glass with. I would rather die of dehydration in the Taklamakan Desert (see pic below) than do it any other way.

As for the rest of your question, let's make a deal, you and me: you studiously do your newbie mix and match information gathering tour on the blogs you like and you start connecting the dots by yourself. I am sure you are perfectly able. In return, I will answer all your specific questions in a very friendly, non-nonsense and dependable way. But let's make it very clear between us: don't expect me to regurgitate the Chronicles of Sam Roland and Caitríona Mary, because this is not going to happen. A day has only 24 hours and there are already people in line behind you.

That being said, I will say only this: Cleveden Drive, GLA. Coffee pics. Easter 2019. You go see out there: I promise it will be interesting.

Here's a pic of the camel I rode on in the Chinese Taklamakan desert, in 2010, while I was traveling by myself along the Silk Road. You're welcome to drop by anytime, here or in DMs.

PS: it was not fun, riding that camel. Unlike horses or elephants, she was distracted and irritated by fleas. And I had the impression of sitting on top of two jelly mounds. Disturbing.

#Anon

42 notes · View notes

fisheito · 14 days

Note

how would you eat/cook each nukani character

oh noooooooooo (holds my face in great contemplative agony) u can't do this to me

Eiden: oh mein gotTtTtt getting my hands on eiden would be like receiving an entire cart of summer fresh-from-farm produce. or an entire cow carcass . i would have SO MANY PARTS and SO MANY WAYS to prepare him and every part of him would taste delicious in its own way. there's no way i can ONLY cook eiden one way. i'd have to put him thru every process possible (true to his versatility). i thought about spitroasting him (for the joke) but that's too much eiden for one method. i need to covet him like the king tuna at the fish market as i take him apart piece by piece look. i am frying him like egg for a fast breakfast. i am meticulously grinding him to a paste in a traditional mortar and pestle. i am using him as pesto AND as dipping sauce. i will dehydrate him and drink him as tea. he will be roasted . braised. devoured raw in ceviche. i'll infuse him with vinegars! syrups! oils!! is there a way to make a sourdough starter but it's eidough starter so i can just keep him on my shelf and feed him every day and pass him down for generations? i want eiden for every meal of the day prepared 1000 ways

Aster: would aster taste like blood or the absence of it? hmmmm..... i guess it depends on when he feeds! maybe if i bite into him after a feeding session, he'll burst like a cherry tomato. but otherwise i feel like giving aster the sashimi treatment. put him all fancy on the plate with some garnishes after i treat him with a light citrus wash or smth. a fresh cool flavour!! i'm tempted to make some sort of beverage out of him. dilute him into a fancy mocktail of strange spirits and woody spices. aster juice?!?! looks like pink wine???! i have to treat this one like i'm spoiling him with gifts. he'll probably end up on the artisanal charcuterie board with the fusion jams and marmalades...

Morvay: i feel like he would have a very...particular aroma. he eats a very specialised diet so of everyone in the clan, he has to follow "you are what you eat", right?? my first instinct for some reason is to cure him. like, turn him into prosciutto. if he's gonna have a funky smell, might as well turn up the salt and cure him. tie him up and lock him in the carefully controlled environment of the curing basement. dark... surrounded by other meatbags... slap him around every now and then. slice him up thin and put him on that fancy cheese board with a bunch of other strong smelling foods. slurp him down him with a glass of astringent aster juice to balance out the richness of the morv

Yakumo: soup. he's getting souped. it's only right. might split him half and half into one soup and one stew. maybe the soup will just be a concentrated essence of snek-style broth. like a clear, warming bowl of pho that is DISTILLED YAKUMO and doesn't need much else besides some fave spices to accompany the flavour. as for the stew? i just straight up like stew and it can be so nutritionally complete. so he's going in the classic comfort stew. chunks of yakumo and seasonal vegetables simmered to make a thick hearty pot of glorp. maybe add some alcohol to it if i want to live dangerously. he will sustain me for days to come. anything that i do not turn into soup? i'm going to steam him. a mild little parcel of wrapped yakumo, gently steamed for a hot minute. yakumo tastes best to me when a little wet.

Edmond: to honour his thick sugary ass, i have to turn edmond into some sorta dessert. turn the defrosted ice queen into ice cream? now i could just put edmond in a pot and reduce him until he turns into a syrup but then i would waste all the extra good bits that make up edomon. u need the tsun with the dere and reducing him to pure dere is NOT balanced. he can withstand quite a bit of punishment so maybe i'll whip him up like a custard (by hand FIRST. if that's not strong enough, i'll use an electric hand mixer). turn him into an earl grey creme brulee where u can set him on fire then smack that caramelised crust before spooning out the goopy insides.

Olivine: i feel like i'd wanna enjoy olivine in his least processed form. just enjoy the pure marbled goodness of well-exercised, tender oli. so why not a steak? medium rare to rare? just a little pan-sear and we can chew on him all we want. (i considered searing on a grill, but it's easier around here to get a pan instead of a grill. and oli is all about being accessible to the greatest number of people.) on the other hand, that might not honour oli's nature. he, too, can stand up to a lot of punishment. he might even like it. so part of him can be the relatively unprocessed slab and the other can be a cutlet. that way i can beat him with a hammer, dredge and bread him, then toss him into the deep fryer. to be served with a variety of heavy or creamy sauces.

Quincy: this man is OLD and TOUGH and he probably tastes like every bit of wildlife in the forest combined. then again, he's also always sleeping so does that mean his meat is quite relaxed and i don't have to tenderise forever to be able to chew it? quincy probably eats the simplest diet (no processed microwave preservative type cocktails in here) so he'd be best appreciated in an equally simple dish?? i'd like to skewer him. make him bite-size and cook him over a campfire. alternating with simple salt vs. intricate dry rubs bc i'm not sure which i'd prefer. if he ends up being tough, i'll let him hang out in a savoury marinade for however many days he needs (do NOT make me put a pineapple in there, mister).

Kuya: i lied. **THIS** man is OLD and TOUGH and SINEWY and A BITCHASS to deal with and i bet if i cut him at *just slightly near the wrong spot* then some mystery sac of foul gunk will explode all over me like a punk'd prank. i will take any excuse during the cooking process to abuse this one. grate his rind to infuse in the sauce. mince him for the physical satisfaction then throw him into the blender anyway. toss him violently into a fiery wok and start saute-ing him with every other ingredient ever. i hope you get stabbed by a bunch of pointy carrots. i'll broil him as if he's not already crispy. and I BET at the end of all this work, i'll have somehow have messed up and made him inedible. skill issue. at this point i give up, toss the entire kuya into the pressure cooker, and turn him into stew.

G/Karu: i wanna toss them like a salad (i think they'll have fun with that). i could go the traditional way and make wolf jerky. bring it on the road for a durable snack! if i could somehow chop these two up and turn them into furikake, they could become my convenient, reliable flavour injector for a quick bowl of rice. it's tricky because there are two distinct flavours and they gotta be treated differently to bring out their full potential. but they're also inseparable. what do i do??? i might just put them into my party-type foods where flavours are supposed to mix and it's the wildness of the combos that make it all fun. he's going on the 12-topping pizza!! he's being melted onto the giant tray of nachos!!!

Blade: CAN I EAT THIS? WILL I DIE? WILL MY TEETH BREAK OFF? i have to debone him. i bet there are pointy bits hiding everywhere. get my special tools out and pluck at him for over an hour (i must be thorough). might just put him in the microwave (he'd probably enjoy that). i feel like essence of Blade would also do well as a bubbly drink. mix a simple edroid syrup with some club soda and some edible flowers to look pretty (low calories too!). if the legends are true and blade can adapt to any flavour, i might just turn him into a condiment or special spice mix. grind him to dust and put him in a nice glass container near my stove so i can add him to various foods (the weirder the combo, the better). keep the spirit of experimentation alive with Blade popcorn seasoning!!

Dante: i am gonna make him fragrant as hell. gonna smoke him over intricate spice combos or tea leaves and impart him with the most alluring lung-punchiest sniffs. i don't wanna be too harsh with him but i trust that he'll at least stand up to heat well. he'd probably complain about wasting time, but i'm not rushing the process. u will sit in the smoker and steadily break down over time. maybe after the smoke, i can tuck the odds and ends into a savoury saucy pie. bake him for an hour surrounded by a flaky buttery crust? i might also experiment with some fermentation, like a dante kimchi. i'm curious as to how he'd change flavours given time to age (and just relax for a bit, really).

Rei: i am pickling him. he's gonna become that sour salty lil accompaniment to every meal i have. he'll last forever and somehow never mould and no matter how long i leave him chillin in the fridge, when the time comes to put him on a bun, i know i can rely on him to not suddenly go limp. i still gotta be careful with him tho. can't just stick my fingers in the jar and introduce contaminants all the day because it IS possible to Spoil the Goods idk i just feel like i'd have to let him sit in SOME sort of marinade or brine. if i try to eat him raw i might turn 14 shades of purple before dissolving into radioactive bile

#this is something i never thought about until u brought it up #it felt like zizz pointing to this big button on my head like WHAT'S THIS?#and i respond: uhhm. i don't know. maybe you shouldnt-#zizz: presses the button #[a door on my skull swings open and my brain leaps out. landing on the floor with a wet florpch]#dude legit i was thinking about this for days #if you're wondering whether i was imagining real gore or just fun silly metaphorical cooking #it was oscillating between both. i can't tell where the mind theatre is right now. probably jumping between genres #last night i was tempted to erase my entire blurb for yakumo #and just go I WILL CONSUME HIM. ALIVE. RAW. I WILL VORE HIM STARTING FROM HIS FINGERs #then i slept on it and woke up with inhibition renewed so i left the blurb alone #the clan's all here!#asks

13 notes · View notes

lowcallyfruity · 23 days

Note

hcs for pomefiore?? 🙏

😭😭😭 ASTER…. I am so sorry but my hcs for Pomefiore are so disappointing 😭😭😭😭 I don’t really think about them often so I don’t have much aside from like my queer hcs and da autism/neurodivergent hcs ☝️

UM BUT HERE WE GO ☝️

🔻🔻🔻🔻

these are my main queer hcs for them:

Vil- Omni (high male pref, some enby pref) , any pronouns but prefers he/him 👍

Rook- pan 💥💥💥💥 he/none/it/they/ any he doesn’t care <//3 use whatever

Epel- GAY!!!! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 he/him :3

“Wow lux your hcs are so boring” YES!! I KNOW!!!- I’m a very simple person 🙄🙄🙄🙄 ignore my 5000 million other AUs and hcs for them

Uhmmmm Vil and Rook have autism !! Epel is neurotypical to me 😢😢😢😢 sorry to everyone that hcs him as neurodivergent <//3

Okay now random ass hcs

ROOK HUNT FRECKLES 🗣️🗣️🗣️ has ALOT all over his body </3

Epel also has freckles but they’re very light…. And also doesn’t have a lot

In my heart Epel sleeps with like 3 blankets and like. A bunch of pillows 😭😭😭 cause I just think he likes being comfy 🤷

I think Vil swears… but like…. Very rarely…. And the chances are higher when he’s really mad…..

VIL LOVES COLLECTING JEWELRY 💥💥💥 loves getting them from different time periods…. Huge fashion history nerd….

Kind of related to the last hc but one of his stims is jewelry/gems…. He likes the way they feel… gold/glitter/sparkly stuff/anything that’s ‘carved’ are visual stims for him…. Also feathers….. he likes feathers in my mind…

Vil and Leona are exes okay…. And a stim he got from Leona is twirling his hair/trying to curl it… (if that makes sense)

GRAHH ROOK LOVES THE TEXTURE OF FUR AND FEATHERS 🫡🫡🫡 also leather he likes the way leather feels

😭😭 rook hunt the type of guy to crack his bones and it sounds so fucking terrifying like my GUYYYYY

Controversial opinion…. Rook hunt…. Isn’t a skinny twink…. He actually has some fat…some muscle… but not in a dorito waffle abs dehydrated anime boy and kinda way… no no no…. Wrestler type build…. In my heart and in my soul… when he gets older he has a strong man body type ✌️

And yeah that’s all I can think of rn 😢

#💛! asks #💛! PookieAster!!#😔😔😔😔😔 idk man

19 notes · View notes

anteroom-of-death · 2 months

Text

Not A Bad Saturday

Synopsis: Quiet Saturday in with Mr and Mrs Malcolm Tucker during a heat wave.

A/n: shameless fluff. Self insert. Yea...also Sam is bisexual. And it's set at the beginning of s4. I am not a well woman.

The thermometer on your window crept up into the upper-thirties. You had your portable air conditioning blasting in the living room, but it was too damn hot still. If not for the man laying on the sofa fanning himself with a file-folder needing to keep all eyes on his phone and television, you would’ve stripped down past your boxers and tank top.

None such luck.

It was a Saturday, but the work was never done…

You set yourself up in the kitchen and began lunch. Perhaps it would be a welcome reset.

Nothing complex, just a bunch of vegetables in some vinegar and oil with some soft cheese from the fridge. A bit of crusty bread ripped from it’s loaf. Nothing special. Your soul would repel itself from your body if you dared with any appliances.

You looked again, it had just hit forty. This damn heatwave was threatening to kill you.

You suddenly had great sympathy for all the snotty office drones in those buildings that had to maintain a dress code. Not you though, couldn’t be fucking you.

You started to slice up a watermelon and placed it in the fridge for snacks later. The chilled slices would be absolutely crucial if the temperature got any hotter.

You offered him a plate and he started picking at it as he went to send a particularly vile voice-mail to that Nicola woman.

You had met her a few times and she seemed dull as eraser crumbs. However she got her position in life was beyond you!

Being Missus Malcolm Tucker had many Perks, but those were the Draws. All dressed in a nice dress, surrounded by dull people whom had you willing to open a major artery.

You didn’t know how he did it day in and day out.

At least you felt like you were the glowing star at those events. After the initial controversy of his and your age-gap had worm off, you’d taken to stride your rare, but dutiful role as ‘Politics wife at a public event.’

The pay-off afterwards for dealing with them was always your favorite part.

On the now, you flopped down on your favorite chair and pulled lightly at your tank top to get the cool air in your body a bit easy. You grabbed a book and started flipping through it.

Eventually, you heard your husband power off his phone and click the telly off.

“Enough of that.” He declared. “Christ, it’s so fucking hot out!”

You nodded along.

“Want to go out to the terrace? There fresh air may help. Being cooped up does no one good…” You reasoned with your husband.

“Aye. That’ll do.” He peeled himself off his space on the sofa and got up with a groan and stretch. You caught a small glimpse of his midriff and you had several thoughts that you would have acted out on if not for the heat.

“What’s that face for?” He inquired.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” You rolled your eyes and cracked your neck.

He just shook his head and wandered out and you grabbed the chilled fruit from the fridge.

You also grabbed him a drink. The man was severely close to being dehydrated and had the diet of a hummingbird. How he raged on for decades on Red Bull and Curly-Wurly’s without any A&E trips was beyond your comprehension.

And kept his body so thin…

A man of many mysteries.

“So I was thinking of us taking a holiday soon.” He said once you sat down on the chair next to him.

“Fair. Better be somewhere glacial. I won’t live if it’s like London.” You jokingly put out guidelines.

“Ah, no, a fucking all-expenses paid trip to Hoth!”

“You’ve been hanging around that Reeder boy too much.” You sarcastically laughed as your lips pursed.

“He might replace me.”

“And that’s how we know the end times are near…”

Malcolm not working? Perish the thought! His brief forced resignation nearly killed him. As much as he loathed the job and all it’d players, it did give him a sense of duty.

It was good when men had hobbies, right?

“That it fucking would be.”

You nodded.

“Drink.” You ordered.

“Fine.” He responded with petulance.

You started munching on the watermelon and staring blithely across the garden.

“What about Iceland? We can go to the thermal baths and hunt puffins. It’s got to be cooler there. And aren’t there no mosquitoes? Spa time would be…relaxing.” You scrounged around in your brain for information on the country. It was only a short flight to and from. A short holiday.

“You’re always trying to get me out of my clothes.” He laughed in a faux-accusatory tone.

Your tongue rested on your teeth, twisted. “Uh-huh.” As if you were confessing to some great crime.

“Just skating past my puffin hunting remark? Damn.”

“My very best.”

You shook your head, “King of Spin." You muttered as you picked up a book you’d left outdoors last night. Some sordid little number about vampires and werewolves that came out a while ago that you had been meaning to read, but it kept escaping you. It was pure trash, but it was entertaining.

“I’ll ring Sam and see if she has any ideas, her and her fiancée recently did some ten-day cruise around the Elbe. Maybe they have some fucking idea on how to escape…”

“Give Sam and Zara my love.” You called out as you barely looked up from your book.

He went out to the garden to do a chat and multitasked by putting freshly-ripened veg and fruits on your terrace table. It took about five minutes but the conversation quickly (from what it sounded like…) veered into some catastrophe involving that bald man who’s eyes you felt were like crab shells. Jamie’s name came up a bit. And some emails.

“Good fucking riddance, Nicholson is out.” He beamed. “I’ll go get some salt, these are best enjoyed fresh off the vine, eaten like apples.” He showed you a tomato and you snickered.

How quickly he was able to change gears these days. At the start of your relationship it seemed like you were the side piece against the literal British government. Surely, he was falling fast for you, but damn, that bitch was jealous and didn’t like you being the apple of Malcolm’s eye…

It was always going to be something, but so long as you gave him peace and indulged him his emotions, it was working out. He could go so fast from work-mode to home-mode now.

Progress.

He returned quickly with the salt and bit a chunk out and sprinkled a pinch on.

He was right. It was good.

“Sam said your idea of a spa trip in Iceland was very overdue.”

“Ah, yeah, well, Sam’s smart. She knows what’s up.”

“Best damn PA, no one deserves her.”

You knew. Sam was lovely. Too cool and smart to be just a personal assistant. You reckoned she was the glue holding Number 10 together. And the fact that she was very gorgeous and very capable of giving anyone their shit right back at them? Admirable. She was untouchable and you wanted to be her when you grew up.

“Not a bad Saturday, eh?” Your husband said, finally back, content in his chair. There was a slight breeze now.

You agreed.

Not a bad Saturday, indeed.

#personal #malcolm tucker #the thick of it #in the loop #ttoi #itl #self insert #malcolm tucker x reader #reader x Malcolm tucker #peter capaldi #gentle intimacy #slow life #fluff #pookie bear #im down bad #yummy

13 notes · View notes