#(early adventure time was so much fun)
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enchantedchocolatebars · 5 months ago
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What Time Is It? 🩵 🌼 🧁 🥪 🦋
For @bilumiart.
Art is here.
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mariocki · 1 year ago
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Patrick Troughton - billed as Pat - helps the stricken French nobility (and flashes the audience) as Sir Andrew Ffoulkes, a staunch ally of the title character in The Adventures of the Scarlet Pimpernel (ITP, 1955 - 1956)
#fave spotting#patrick troughton#the adventures of the scarlet pimpernel#doctor who#classic doctor who#two#itp#itc#1955#I've had a nice rhythm going lately with pairing a 50 min series (usually The Saint these days‚ tho not for much longer...) with a shorter#25 min one to dip into when I've less time or whatever. with The Adventurer over (adieu and farewell Gene Bradley you insane#multi talented everything) i thought I'd change it up a little and go for a much earlier itc series for a different tone. so early in fact#that they weren't even ITC yet; the company was then known as the Incorporated Television Programme Company‚ ITP for short‚ but be not#fooled; this is in every way the Lew Grade led company that would come to dominate the commercial tv world in the decades to follow#The Adventures of Robin Hood is usually identified as the first ITC production but in fact it beat this series to the screen by only#3 days and the two shows were presumably in production simultaneously. Hood went on to be the making of ITC and Lew Grade and lasted#a whopping 143 episodes over 4 years; Pimpernel made it to only 18 despite being planned as a 39 part series (standard length for these#early itc shows). exactly what went wrong i dont know; Goring was heavily involved in production as well as starring and maybe that played#a part‚ or maybe the popular success of Hood meant this show was no longer affordable. idk im just speculating but from#what I've seen it's fairly fun. starting on ITV just a week after the network commenced transmission‚ it's safe to say this didn't capture#the public imagination like Hood did and it does seem to have been rather forgotten about. Pat is actually a series regular and these#pics come from a few different eps among the first few. he isn't in the very first (nor is the Pimpernel's other faithful companion#played by Anthony Newlands) and i do wonder if that was a pilot (it has Robert Shaw as the Pimpernel's right hand and to my#knowledge he doesn't reappear; he'd make up for it with a starring role in one of ITC's next series‚ The Buccaneers#but yes he's here and he's fantastic and gets to be dashing and heroic (tho never moreso than Goring of course). he's also the one of the#three heroes who best suits the powdered hair look (Newlands looks quite unfortunate). and of course i know what im doing with that#last shirtless pic.. you're welcome Pat girlies (gender neutral)#maybe I'll make another post after I've seen a few more eps but i wasn't going to commit to a Pat post for every episode im afraid
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mukuharakazui · 1 year ago
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bg3 is crazy for being a massive $70 larian + wotc collab game whose accessibility menu features subtitles that are present for less than half of all idle character dialogue and almost zero battle dialogue
#succ speaks#not to be the 'paizo wouldn't let this happen' guy but god this is actually insane#like why even have an accessibility menu at that point? i'd rather watch a youtube video with automatic captions#same energy as devs complaining that everyone was making their pcs a white human guy in early access while they had no asian human options#like bro i just want to know what bestie karlach is saying but if u make her mumble with no captions even tho i have subtitles on#tf am i supposed to do.....🤨😡😭💀#baldur's gate 3 is fun but this is pissing me off. like i'm prob not gonna keep playing this solo & only play online with friends#it's fun but. not fun enough to mimic the actual wacky bullshit i do with charisma rogues and bards in dnd or pf#i think i'm also used to having real humans around for ttrpg antics and dynamic character interactions so bg3 feels bland in comparison lol#also because irl i can ask people to repeat what they just said 🙃🙃🙃#joining the mob by accident was admittedly funnier in bg3 than it was in dnd though considering i stumbled into the base out of nowhere#i guess it just falls under ny philosophy that dnd is most fun when wotc has zero actual say in what happens and what we can do 👍#however as much as pf > dnd...bg3 > kingmaker. i think pathfinder is just to true of a ttrpg to adapt into a video game super well#like. the writing in wotr was WAY better than bg3 but still sometimes bad enough to be infuriating ESPECIALLY in regards to iomedae#but the weird ass iomedae stuff is also true in the adventure path itself and plenty of other people have complained about it#but hey at least in wotr the subtitles told me what she was saying every time she spoke 👍#wotr was still rly fun tho no hate to the game in general this is a quick slam of being pissed at bg3 again 🙏🙏
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sickgraymeat · 1 year ago
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It’s funny that I can only read/write AT fanfic that’s both (a) canon compliant and (b) not too sad by my (very sensitive baby) standards, bc ofc those things contradict each other a lot
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phagodyke · 9 months ago
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damn I rly have another 4 weeks of holiday this year huh. I should start making some plans
#well maybe more like 3 weeks bc I wanna keep some to use for long weekends or day trips#but thats still kind of a lot..#my problem is i dont wanna take time off just to stay at home bc I do that most weekends. but im not sure I rly wanna go anywhere either#I dont mind travelling but its very much just a function for me. even when im travelling for fun + not bc I Have to it feels no different#Im v independent but I just dont rly have the adventurers spirit. plus im disabled so going new places alone is so stressful sometimes#ugh I dont wanna let my parents catch wind of how much holiday i have tho bc theyll be like come stay with us for a week!#i will Kill Myself no thanks#theyll probs already get christmas with me and thats an ordeal enough#its the expense as well idk how much its worth it. even if i can afford it like that money couldve gone into so many other things#ahhh.#my flatmate did suggest we go somewhere together but i feel like shes gone off that idea.. ik she doesnt get as much holiday anyway#id feel bad eating into it just so she has to spend more time with me even tho we already live together. nightmarish ik#there are maybe some landscapes id like to see but not alone bc id wanna hike but i dont rly have any friends into that kinda hiking#like i cant rly just fuck off into the mountains for a week by myself the risk is stupid#i dont knooooow. maybe ill just do myself a cornwall trip v early or late summer when kids are in school that might be nice#bc its just trains to get there. and ive spent a lot of time alone there before like it wouldnt be as stressful as a New Place entirely#i wanna do a music festival in the summer too but rly id only need 2 days holiday for that. and again i cant rly go alone#so i need to find ppl to convince to come w me#god i feel so lame for not rly wanting to go on proper holidays. but its never felt worth it to me sorry 😭#blame the childhood trauma or whatever#ill stew on it and maybe ill think of something we'll see. ive got a while yet before id need to book stuff anyway#gotta do some more cleaning today but the sooner i can get it done the sooner i can play elden ring 🙏🙏🙏🙏#.diaries
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traggalicious · 1 year ago
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Solomon’s lovely wild witch girlfriend, Lorelei! Unsure how old she is, in the first two she’s maybe 16-17ish, maybe a young lookin 18? And then the other two she’s maybe like early 20s. Who knows lol. Some edwardian clothing bc. Fun. And also Sol’s kinda early-ish in the grim-line? Tbh his time might be closer to the BI’s equivalent to like, victorian, but look i dont know shit about Boiling Isles history and time periods and if anyone has a good source for that PLS give. Anyway enjoy: woman.
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xo100 · 2 months ago
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A summer to remember - LN4
*:・゚ Summary: Lando, Y/N, and their daughter Isla enjoy a perfect summer vacation filled with love, beach fun, and yacht adventures.
*:・゚ Word count: 2388
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୨ৎ
It was a beautiful summer morning, and the sun was already casting its golden glow over the peaceful coastline. The soft sound of waves lapping against the shore could be heard through the open windows of the cozy villa where Lando Norris, his wife, and their one-year-old daughter, Isla, were spending their vacation. It was a much-needed break from Lando's hectic Formula 1 schedule, and he was determined to make the most of every second with his little family.
Inside the villa, the sweet scent of fresh pastries filled the air as Y/N was busy in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the three of them. Isla was sitting in her highchair, her big, curious eyes watching her mom move around, while her tiny hands held onto a small stuffed bear that she never seemed to let go of. Lando, fresh from a shower, entered the kitchen with a content smile, his heart swelling at the sight of his two favorite girls.
“Morning, love,” he murmured, stepping up behind Y/N and wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her neck. “You’re up early. Didn’t think we’d need to be up so soon on holiday.”
Y/N smiled, leaning back into him as she flipped a pancake. “Well, someone woke up hungry,” she said, glancing over at Isla, who was babbling happily to her bear. “Besides, it’s too beautiful outside to waste the day.”
Lando hummed in agreement, his chin resting on Y/N's shoulder as he watched her cook. “You’re right. What’s the plan today, then? What amazing adventure are we going on?”
Y/N turned her head to meet his gaze, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I thought we could start with a beach day. Just us, some sand, and the ocean. Maybe build a sandcastle with Isla. She’s been dying to get her hands in the sand.”
Lando grinned, his eyes lighting up at the idea. He loved the thought of spending the day on the beach with his family, especially if it meant seeing Isla’s face light up with excitement. “That sounds perfect,” he said, stealing a quick kiss before letting her go. “But I think we should add something extra later. How about a yacht ride this afternoon? I’ve already got one booked for us.”
Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise and delight. “A yacht? Seriously, Lando?”
“Of course,” he replied with a cocky smile, giving her a playful wink. “Figured we’d sail off into the sunset like in the movies. You know, champagne in hand, wind in our hair… or at least, your hair. Isla and I don’t have much of that,” he teased, running a hand through his slightly damp hair for emphasis.
Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re too much sometimes, Norris.”
Lando winked. “And you love it.”
Isla, hearing her dad’s voice, squealed excitedly, her little arms reaching out towards him. Lando’s expression softened instantly as he scooped her up from the highchair and spun her around, her giggles filling the kitchen. “There’s my girl!” he said, holding her close and pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek. “Ready for a fun day with Mum and Dad?”
Isla giggled in response, her tiny hand grabbing onto Lando’s shirt, holding on as if she never wanted to let go. Lando’s heart melted, as it did every time he looked at his daughter. She was the perfect mix of both him and Y/N—her sparkling eyes and infectious laughter were all her mother, while the little dimple in her cheek and the mischievous glint in her eye were pure Lando.
-
After breakfast, the three of them headed down to the beach, which was only a short walk from the villa. The sand was warm beneath their feet, and the ocean stretched out in front of them, glittering under the morning sun. It was the kind of picture-perfect day that made it hard to believe anything else existed beyond this little slice of paradise.
Lando carried Isla on his hip, holding her tiny hand as she stared wide-eyed at the ocean for the first time. Her mouth formed a little "o" of wonder as the gentle breeze tousled her soft hair. “Look at that, Isla,” Lando said, pointing towards the waves. “Isn’t it beautiful? Just like your mum.”
Y/N, who had been spreading out a blanket, glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Lando’s words. “Flatterer,” she teased, though her cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. No matter how long they’d been together, Lando always knew how to make her heart skip a beat.
Once everything was set up, Y/N and Lando took turns playing with Isla in the sand, helping her dig little holes and attempting to build a sandcastle that mostly ended up in a pile of mush, thanks to Isla’s enthusiastic hands. Lando pretended to be frustrated as Isla gleefully knocked over the little towers he was trying to make. “Isla, love, I’m trying to build a masterpiece here,” he said in mock seriousness, though his grin gave him away.
Isla just giggled, grabbing another handful of sand and letting it slip through her tiny fingers. Y/N watched them with a smile, her heart swelling with love. There was something so pure and beautiful about the way Lando interacted with their daughter. He was playful, patient, and so incredibly gentle with her, like she was the most precious thing in the world. And to him, she was. Both of them were.
-
After a few hours of playing in the sand and dipping their toes in the water, it was time for Isla’s nap. Y/N and Lando packed up their things and headed back to the villa, where Isla quickly fell asleep in her crib, her little face peaceful and content.
With their daughter sound asleep, Y/N and Lando had a rare moment of quiet together. They sat out on the terrace, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun. Lando stretched out on the lounge chair next to her, his hand lazily tracing circles on her leg. “This is nice,” he murmured, his voice low and relaxed. “Just the two of us for a bit.”
Y/N smiled softly, leaning back in her chair as she gazed out at the ocean. “It is,” she agreed. “It’s nice to just… be. No distractions, no schedules. Just us.”
Lando turned his head to look at her, his eyes filled with that familiar mix of love and admiration that always made her stomach flutter. “You know,” he said quietly, his fingers gently brushing her skin, “I don’t think I tell you enough how much I love you. How much I appreciate everything you do for Isla and me.”
Y/N’s breath caught slightly at the sincerity in his voice. She turned her head to meet his gaze, her heart swelling with emotion. “Lando…”
“No, really,” he insisted, sitting up a little. “I don’t say it enough. You’re incredible, Y/N. The way you love our daughter, the way you take care of us… You make everything feel so effortless, and I just—I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and she quickly blinked them away, smiling softly at him. “I love you too, Lando. More than you know.”
He leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss that made her forget about everything else. In that moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped up in each other, the world fading away.
-
Later that afternoon, as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, Lando, Y/N, and Isla boarded the yacht that Lando had arranged. It was a sleek, beautiful boat, and as they set off into the open water, the breeze ruffling their hair, it felt like something out of a dream.
Isla was fascinated by the gentle rocking of the boat, her little hands gripping the edge of the railing as she watched the water with wide eyes. Lando stood behind her, his hands on either side of hers, keeping her steady while whispering little words of encouragement. “Look at that, baby girl. Isn’t it amazing? Just like flying, huh?”
Y/N watched them from her seat, her heart swelling with affection for the two of them. There was something so undeniably sweet about seeing Lando with Isla. He was a natural father, always knowing how to make her smile, always there to comfort her when she was upset.
As the yacht sailed further out, Lando eventually scooped Isla up and carried her back to Y/N, sitting down next to her and cuddling Isla between them. The three of them sat together, watching the sun slowly sink into the horizon, casting a golden-orange glow over the water.
“This is perfect,” Y/N whispered, resting her head on Lando’s shoulder as she cradled Isla in her arms. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”
Lando smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Me either,” he murmured. “This… this is everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Y/N glanced up at him, her heart swelling at the love in his eyes. “You mean that?”
He looked down at her, his expression serious but filled with so much warmth. “I do. You and Isla… you’re my world, Y/N. Everything I do, it’s for you two. And I’ll never stop loving you, not for a second.”
Her breath caught at his words, and she leaned up to kiss him, slow and sweet.
The kiss lingered, sweet and unhurried, the weight of Lando’s words settling between them like the most beautiful promise. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling as the world seemed to pause for just a moment. Isla, nestled between them, was quietly playing with Lando’s fingers, completely content in the embrace of her parents.
“I love you, too,” Y/N whispered, her voice full of emotion. “More than I could ever put into words.”
Lando smiled, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. “I know, love,” he murmured. “I feel it every single day.”
They sat there for a long while, the boat gently swaying with the rhythm of the sea, as the last rays of sunlight danced on the horizon. Isla eventually dozed off in Y/N’s arms, her tiny body relaxing completely, the soft rise and fall of her chest the only sound breaking the peaceful silence.
Lando looked down at his daughter, his heart nearly bursting at the sight. He reached out to lightly stroke her hair, his touch so gentle it was almost reverent. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” he said quietly, his voice filled with awe. “How did we get so lucky?”
Y/N smiled down at Isla, her heart swelling with love for the little girl in her arms. “We did get lucky,” she agreed softly. “She’s everything.”
Lando’s gaze shifted from Isla to Y/N, his expression softening even further. “You’re everything to me, you know that, right?”
Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. “I think you’ve told me that about a hundred times today.”
“Well, I mean it. Every time,” he teased, leaning in to kiss her again. “You’re stuck with me, Norris, so I’m gonna remind you as often as I can.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Y/N whispered against his lips before kissing him back.
As the sun finally disappeared beyond the horizon, the sky fading into a soft twilight, they decided to head back to the villa. Lando took Isla from Y/N’s arms, cradling their sleeping daughter as they made their way back to the dock. The boat ride back was quiet, peaceful, the gentle hum of the engine and the lapping of the water lulling them into a contented silence.
-
When they reached the villa, Lando carefully carried Isla to her room, tucking her into bed with the same care and tenderness he always showed. Y/N stood in the doorway, watching him with a soft smile on her face, her heart full as she took in the sight of Lando, who had once been the carefree, fast-driving boy, now a devoted father and partner.
Lando pressed a soft kiss to Isla’s forehead before pulling the blanket up around her tiny body. He stood for a moment, just watching her sleep, his heart filled with a deep sense of contentment. Finally, he turned to Y/N, slipping his hand into hers as they quietly left the room, closing the door behind them.
Once back in their bedroom, Y/N flopped onto the bed with a happy sigh, stretching her arms above her head. Lando followed, lying down beside her and propping himself up on one elbow to look at her. “So,” he said, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “What’s the verdict? Best day ever?”
Y/N turned her head to look at him, her eyes sparkling with love and amusement. “I’d say it’s definitely up there,” she teased. “But tomorrow might just top it.”
Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what do you have planned for tomorrow?”
Y/N shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”
Lando leaned down, his lips brushing hers as he whispered, “Whatever it is, as long as I’m with you and Isla, it’s already perfect.”
Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, full of the love and promise they’d built over the years. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N curled into Lando’s side, her head resting on his chest as his arm wrapped around her, holding her close.
“Thank you for today,” Y/N murmured, her eyes growing heavy with exhaustion. “It was perfect.”
Lando kissed the top of her head, his fingers gently running through her hair. “You don’t have to thank me, love. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. For you and Isla, I’d do anything.”
With that, they fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves outside their window lulling them to sleep. As Lando drifted off, his heart full and his arms wrapped around the woman he loved, he couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world.
And as the stars twinkled above, casting their soft light over the peaceful villa, one thing was certain: this summer, this moment, would be one they’d cherish forever.
୨ৎ
*:・゚ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! I’m currently writing part three of baking cookies! I hope to finish it soon and upload it soon!
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whytheylosttheirminds · 1 day ago
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Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 8 (part two)
(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 6.2k words)
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series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.
tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder
series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues
⇢ series masterlist
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A blood curdling shriek rang through the house, jolting Carter from her restless dreams.
She sat straight up in bed, heart racing as she looked around the dark room, head so heavy she could barely remember where she was or how she got there.
In her hungover mental fog, she pieced it together slowly. She was at the beach house, in her room, it was early, she drank so much last night and Topper said -
“OH MY GOD!” 
Another sharp scream came from downstairs, and her heart rate spiked all over again. She pulled the fluffy comforter around her shoulders and hurried out of the room, quiet on the stairs as she nervously approached the source of all the commotion.
When she saw what was inducing Sabrina’s shock, she doubled back, hiding around the corner so they couldn’t see her. Her stomach churned with bitter loathing, and something else even more nauseating…
She dropped the blanket and rushed to the half-bath off the house’s entryway, doubled over the toilet bowl as last night’s poor choices continued to haunt her.
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Rafe drove faster than he had before your interrupted rendezvous, seeming not to want to drag this adventure out anymore. You eyed him nervously from the passenger seat, searching for words that weren’t coming to you. 
Tongue tied and exhausted was not how you wanted to begin this…whatever this was between you. Rafe had given you words, so many of them, back on the beach and all he asked in return was a simple yes or no.
Are you my girl?
No four words had ever felt so heavy. The shitty part was, you wanted to say yes. At the sound of his breathless question every cell in your body was screaming yes! I’m your girl! I’ve always been your girl! 
But then there was that pesky piece of self preservation that cemented itself in your heart all those years ago and didn’t plan to give up any time soon. 
He looked so disappointed when you couldn’t give him a quick and easy answer, his chest now deflated and shoulders sunken as he drove the rest of the route home. Despite your lingering hesitation, you felt like you needed to give him something, needed to lift the frown that was settled on the lips you had tasted so many times this morning.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.
“For what?” He asked.
“I’m…slow,” you began, “it takes me a while, y’know? To find the words. I’m not like you, I don’t know how you came up with that speech in less than a minute.”
Rafe laughed, confusing you.
“What?”
“You think I came up with that speech in a minute?” He chuckled, “I’ve been practicing it every day since senior year of high school.”
Your heart clenched at the endearing thought of him in front of the mirror, driving to class, taking a shower all while rehearsing what he’d say if you ever gave him the chance.
“Oh,” you tucked your hair behind your ear.
It was infuriating, your complete inability to get a grip on your own thoughts and feelings around him. It had always been this way. You were well-spoken and sound-minded, until this one person was in your atmosphere, his presence your own personal kryptonite.
To be fair to yourself, it wasn’t just your own weakness for him that had caused you to build such high walls. When you were kids, he sometimes made you feel this way on purpose. He used to have fun watching you get flustered, just the right amount of flirting to send you into a tizzy, only to leave you spinning like a top with no one to stop you.
You truly tried to leave the past behind, burying it somewhere back in the sand on the beach. You reminded yourself that the Rafe of your memories was not the one sitting next to you right now. But that might just be the problem, because at least you knew that Rafe, you knew exactly what he would do next.
If he grabbed your hand, you knew he was about to drop it. If he said something sweet, you knew he was about to say something passive aggressive. If he acted like he loved you, you knew he was about to act like he’d never met you a day in his life.
But this Rafe, this new one, was completely unpredictable. Wild and dangerous in his apparent affection for you. How were you supposed to know what he did next wasn’t going to hurt? He was right about what he said on the jet ski - you won’t know until you give him the chance. Easier said than done.
“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he offered after you’d been quiet for a long time.
“This week has just been…” trying to come up with one word to describe it felt like a futile task.
“Overwhelming?” Rafe tried to help.
“Surprising,” you countered. “I’ve never been good with surprises.”
“You like to know what’s coming next,” he nodded, once again displaying a deep knowledge of you that you never knew he possessed.
Like he could read your mind, his arm stretched across the small divide and his palm, warm and soft, settled on your thigh, a single soothing stroke to let you know he’s still here, he’s still yours. The feeling of his skin touching yours was like aloe vera directly on the burn.
With a grateful smile, you leaned back in the seat and took a deep breath as he steered you home.
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Carter padded down the hall, stopping three separate times, trying to decide if she should just go back to her own room. But the sight of her frantic texts to you still saying “delivered” and not “read” was too concerning to ignore.
She opened Topper’s door without knocking.
He was sitting up against his headboard, typing feverishly on his phone. At the sight of her, he clutched his duvet cover, pulling it up higher over his nearly naked body.
“Have you ever heard of knocking?” 
“Please, like I haven’t seen it all before. Like I didn’t see it yesterday,” she rolled her eyes.
“Oh okay, so you do remember. Based on the way you were acting last night I thought maybe you’d forgotten we’d ever been together,” he snipped at her.
“I don’t want to talk about last night,” she waved him off, dismissing his complaints flippantly, “are you aware of what’s happening downstairs right now? Of who is happening downstairs right now?”
“Yes, I saw her pull up,” he returned his attention to his phone and his frenzied typing.
Outside his cracked open door, Carter heard Kelce, Tom, and a few others come barreling up the stairs, chatting about the recent arrival.
“Be so fucking for real, did you invite her?” Carter said, attempting to lower her voice.
“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this but you do this thing where you think you’re whispering and you’re actually not,” Topper informed her.
“Topper…”
“No, I didn’t invite her.,” he answered. “Actually I was about to ask if you did.”
“Why the fuck would I do that? I hate her.”
“Wow alright, hate's a strong word, Carter, maybe calm down a little.”
Ever since their knock-down-drag-out at the club last night, the arguing that was usually playful and lighthearted had an edge of actual bitterness to it.
“First of all, if you ever tell me to ‘calm down’ again, I’m going full Lorena Bobbitt on your ass. Second of all, you need to go down there and tell her to leave,” she flicked her hair behind her shoulder and held her chin up as she bossed him around. He hated that despite how mad at her he was, he fucking loved it.
“How does that job possibly fall on me?” He scoffed.
“Aren’t you Mr. Team Rafe-and-my-sister? Don’t you want to get rid of the reason they stopped talking in the first place?” She reasoned.
“I’m not gonna tell her she can’t be here,” he shut her down. “It’s not my house, and it’s really none of my business. Or yours.”
Her eyes narrowed at him, “oh yeah? Then who are you texting so much over there?”
“I’m just giving him a head’s up,” he shrugged. “She should probably know too.”
“And you’re just assuming they’re together?” She snarled.
“Puh-lease,” he rolled his eyes, “did you see them at the club last night? There’s no way they didn’t hook up.”
She wouldn’t accept it, couldn’t, even though she knew somewhere deep in her gut that he was probably right. 
When Rafe still didn’t answer any of his texts, Topper sighed heavily, “fuck it, I don’t care if I’m cockblocking, I’m calling him.”
Before he could dial, the house shook with the slam of the front door. Carter and Topper hurried out to the hall and hesitated at the top of the steps. Your lone voice carried up to them, talking to no one in particular as you muttered, “un-fucking-belivable.”
Carter actually did whisper this time, “I think it might be too late for that…”
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The feeling of Rafe’s hand, warm and steady on your thigh, as he drove the rest of the route home was so nice and comforting, you let yourself slip into the possibility that this could actually be it. Maybe you really could just leave the past behind you, maybe you really had finally found each other and it could just be simple like this.
But your fantasy didn’t last long.
Rafe parked in the spot across the street that you had taken Carter’s car from a few hours ago. Even when he turned the key and cut the engine, he didn’t remove his hand from your leg. 
“You ready?” He sighed.
“For what?” You questioned, eyeing him curiously, his face serious as he looked down at the site of his hand on your skin.
He shook his head like he didn’t know the answer himself, “reality, I guess.”
You placed your hand over his, smirking at the sight of your fingers encompassing each other’s, wanting so much more from these hands and truly believing you’d have all the time in the world to enjoy them. 
“Bring it on,” you gave him a small smile.
“He leaned across the center console and dropped a deep kiss to your lips, causing you to sigh into his mouth. All the times you imagined kissing him, you never thought such a rough-around-the-edges guy would have such soft lips. You felt like you might be able to spend forever with them on your skin.
When he finally pulled away, you reached for the handle of your door, beginning to open it, but Rafe reached across your body and pulled it shut again.
“What are you doing?” You asked in surprise.
He smiled that perfect, dimpled grin of his, “extra credit.”
You giggled as he hurried to climb out of the driver’s side, hurrying around to your door and opening it with a chivalrous flair.
“Wow,” you beamed, accepting his hand as he helped you down from the tall vehicle. “You weren’t kidding about trying to be a gentleman.”
“For you, I’ll be anything,” he flirted.
Despite your best efforts not to, you blushed, the red hue on your cheeks deepening when Rafe kept your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours as you walked back to the house. It was the first time he’d held your hand out in the open like this, where anyone could look out from the windows of the beach house and see the two of you together. It was foreign to you, his public display of affection, and yet it felt so right. You couldn’t help but wish it hadn’t taken this long.
“Can I ask you something?” You said quietly.
“Anything,” he squeezed your hand assuringly. 
“Why didn’t we do this a long time ago?” 
Rafe’s face fell slightly, watching his feet as they made less and less forward progress on the sidewalk, until he came to a full stop. The question was mostly meant to be lighthearted, a tease really, but his solemn reaction made your stomach twist with concern.
“I…” he started, voice unsteady, not meeting your eyeline, “I don’t know if I should tell you this but -”
You never knew what he wasn’t supposed to tell you, because before he could, a sickeningly familiar voice called out from the front porch.
“Hey guys!”
Head snapping toward the sound, you looked up, and there she was, as stunning as ever in that same signature everything-you’re-not-ness. 
Cassie Bryant.
Her face was adorned with a glistening smile, yours was noticeably not. Everything in you sunk, including the corners of your lips, completely unable to hide the way your heart dropped six feet under the ground at the sight of her.
She was somehow even more golden and glowing now than she was back then. Glossy blonde hair flowing down her back like a waterfall of silk. Her perfect, blemish free skin glowed in the early morning light. Her big, round Disney Princess eyes quickly found Rafe and flicked over your joined hands, clocking the way they were folded together in unmistakable intimacy.
It happened so quickly, and yet it felt like years worth of hurt and heartache compacted into one small moment. 
At the sight of Cassie on the porch, Rafe dropped your hand.
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Surely, any minute now, a camera crew would pop out from the bushes and announce that you were being Punk’d.
Or maybe it’d be the Mythbusters:
The myth? That you can actually heal from your childhood trauma with just four years of painstaking hard work. Well, we’re about to prove that all of that can be unraveled in the span of 72 hours! Also, we will be using your heart as our crash test dummy. Myth busted!
You didn’t look over at Rafe, couldn’t bear to watch the way he pulled his body away from yours, ever-so-slightly, almost imperceptibly. But you could feel it all the same, and you were sure she could too. 
Before Cassie could say anything else, the front door opened behind her, Sabrina stepping out of the house and taking in the unfolding scene on the lawn.
“Oh shit,” she laughed, “this is awkward!”
It’s like her main goal in life was to find new and creative ways to make your bad moments worse.
“Is it?” Cassie asked, seemingly unaware of the cause of Sabrina’s laughter. “We were just saying hi.”
She caught your eye as she said it, a polite but knowing smile on her lips. You realized with shock that she absolutely knew what was happening and was trying to make you feel better about it. You should just be grateful for the unexpected kindness, but something in you was suspicious. The Cassie you knew would’ve jumped at the chance to embarrass you, and she would’ve loved the way Rafe was treating you like you had the plague.
Plus, her taking pity on you, acknowledging the way Rafe had just hurt you, was somehow worse than her just being mean to you. You’d rather she go back to that.
“Y’all having a good trip?” She asked you and Rafe when the silence had lasted just a little too long.
You looked to Rafe, waiting for him to answer, begging him silently to say something that indicated that you were in fact having a good trip…together.
But he just said, “it’s been cool. Weather’s shit, though.”
“Yeah that’s what Sab told me, but I got a few days off my internship so I thought I’d come hang with y’all,” she said, eyes on you as she spoke, like she owed you an explanation.
“Well, welcome, then,” you smiled a polite smile that didn’t meet your eyes.
“You ready?” Sabrina asked, linking arms with Cassie, thick as thieves. 
“We’re going into town for some brunch if you guys want to join,” Cassie offered.
“That’s okay, I need to check on Carter,” you declined, all eyes turning to Rafe for his response.
“Uh yeah, I’m good here, th-thanks,” he stuttered, so awkward and shaky, a completely different person from the guy who was delivering monologues and sweeping you off your feet just a few hours ago.
Cassie just smiled politely once more as Sabrina pulled her into the car. As they drove off, you stood wordlessly with Rafe on the front walk, your chest completely hollow. You mustered some nerve and finally looked at him, head tilted, a completely unamused smile tugging your lips.
“Weather’s shit?” You repeated his words back to him.
“Look…” he began but didn’t finish the thought.
You just laughed humorlessly, shaking your head at him as you stormed off toward the house. Rafe stood frozen for a moment, kicking himself mentally and begging his brain to catch up with the moment, finally rushing off after you, but not able to before you slammed the door in his face.
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Carter and Topper exchanged nervous glances at the sound of you stomping into the house. 
They slowly and quietly settled on the top step, sitting forward to listen in as the front door opened and closed again, Rafe’s voice echoing through the house.
“Wait…” he said, following after you as you marched further into the house toward the kitchen.
You didn’t stop, “No, go ahead, you should go to brunch with her. Don’t let me keep you from a good time.”
“Wait, let’s just talk,” he pleaded.
“I’m too tired, Rafe,” you rejected him. “I can’t do this right now.”
“So you’re not even gonna let me explain?”
At the top of the steps, Carter and Topper simultaneously held their breath as they listened, both jumping as Kelce’s voice startled them, “what are we listening to?”
“Shhh,” Carter waved her hand at him, motioning for him to shut up.
Kelce plopped himself between them on the top step, shuffling a bit so they’d make room for him. He listened in, picking up your and Rafe’s raised voices quickly.
“Oh shit,” he barely whispered, “trouble in paradise already?”
“Dude shut up,” Topper cut him off.
Soon, Maddie, Tom and Jack joined the little huddle on the top step, each cluing in on the source of the entertainment in their own disruptive way before being shushed by the group and eventually sitting. You continued your argument with Rafe, completely unaware you were performing in front of a live studio audience.
“You don’t need to explain,” you told him, trudging down the front hall toward the kitchen. “I know exactly what just happened because it’s happened a thousand times before. What I don’t know is why I’m even surprised.”
“Come on,” he caught up to you, stopping you in your tracks as his large frame rounded you. “It is not the same as it used to be.”
“It’s exactly the same,” you side-stepped him, walking into the kitchen and dropping Carter’s keys on the counter. “I mean jesus Rafe, it’s the same fucking person! I can’t believe I’m here again, it’s like I’m having a nightmare where I’m back in high school. Next thing you know I’m gonna walk into homeroom and I realize I’m completely naked.”
“Sounds more like a dream to me,” he smirked, trying to flirt.
You just blinked back at him, your sharp eyes cutting straight through his head.
“Do you think this is funny?”
His smirk dropped, snatched right off his lips by your ice cold tone. Good. You’d been waiting years to wipe that shit eating grin off his face. 
Something new was rising in your chest, knocking out the embarrassment and sadness with a closed fist, a fury long buried coming back with a vengeance.
“I thought all that shit was behind us, over and done.” Rafe reached out towards you but you stopped him with your own rough grip, lowering his hand away from you and dropping it like he’d dropped yours.
“Oh, it’s fucking done alright, so fucking done,” you spat.
 “You’re really gonna let ten stupid seconds ruin everything that’s happened between us? You’re not even gonna give me the benefit of the doubt. You really think that little of me?”
“It’s literally only been two hours, and you’ve already lied to me once and pushed me away the second someone saw us. And you wonder why I'm having a hard time saying yes to being with you? It’s because I fucking can’t trust you, Rafe!”
“I don’t know what else I can do to show you I’m different,” he threw his hands up in exasperation. “This is so fucking unfair.”
“Are you being fucking serious right now?” You stepped towards him as you snapped at him. “You’re actually pissed at me?”
“Yeah, I am!” 
“Why?”
“Because I lost my best friend!”
Everyone on the top of the stairs winced, air sucked from the room when Rafe raised his voice at you. For all his flaws and mistreatment, he had never raised his voice at you before.
“Oh shit,” Kelce whispered.
“Shhh!” Carter and Maddie hushed him in unison, everyone leaning in a little closer to hear how you’d react. But you said nothing. They couldn’t see the widening of your eyes, jaw locked tight as you gave him space to follow up on his outburst.
“Do you really think it didn’t hurt me when you just up and stopped talking to me back then?” He took the space you gave him and slowly unpacked the hurt feelings he’d buried for years. “I know I was a dick, I shouldn’t have taken advantage of how you felt about me, I shouldn’t have strung you along. But when that shit went down senior year and you just ghosted me, I wanted to talk to you and make it right. I tried, but you blocked me out, you went from talking to me every day to radio silence without giving me a single explanation. That fucking hurt. And you’re doing the exact same thing now, not even giving me a chance to explain things. So yeah, I am a little pissed. I’m pissed that you’re just gonna throw it all away again over nothing.”
He waited for your response with baited breath, prepared for you to yell, or cry, or do something. But you gave him nothing, mouth closed in a tight line as you turned on your heel and walked further into the kitchen, lifting the coffee pot from its home and filling it in the sink.
He watched your back as you scooped the grounds into the filter and turned on the machine. Minutes passed and you remained silent, hands on the counter, looking out the big window towards the ocean while the coffee brewed one drop at a time.
Finally, after eight cups had dripped into the pot, you spoke.
“How was prom, by the way?” You turned to face him, the edge of the marble countertop digging into your waist as you leaned back against it, hands crossed in hostility over your chest. “I never asked.”
Rafe’s gaze fell from you almost instantly. He didn’t have to ask why you were bringing this up, the ‘hell hath no fury’ look on your face dragging the memory forth from its carefully hidden spot in the back of his brain. Nothing made him feel like a jackass quite like that memory, and based on the mocking curve at the corner of your lips, you knew it.
The memory used to keep you up at night. 
For a full year after it happened, it was like a fire poker bent into the shape of regret and shame was branding your heart over and over. 
Now, the burn was healed over, still calloused and red at the edges, but you’d done your best to cover the scar tissue in the healing balms of self-love and lots and lots of therapy. Still, it was the moment in your life you were the least proud of.
You’d thought it was gonna be you. Really, earnestly, completely delusionally, you believed when he asked for your help with his grand prom-posal that it was all a playful ruse to ask you to be his date. You stayed up all night, decorating three different poster boards with glitter glue so he could pick the one he liked best. You bought out all the battery-powered candles at Michael’s - he said he’d pay you back, he never did. You waited with him in the park until the sun set, giddy with the hope that he’d drop the ruse and pop the question any minute.
“What will you do if ‘she’ says no?” You attempted to flirt.
“I guess I’d just have to take you.”
Every muscle in his body flinched at the memory and the white hot regret he felt every time it replayed in his head.
The kid who said those words was such an asshole. Standing here in the kitchen, looking down at you, the love of his goddamn life, and facing the possibility that he might lose you for good, he wanted to ring the idiot’s neck.
Because he hadn’t asked you. He made you watch while he asked her. And he didn’t even give you a ride home from the park.
Fuck, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he was you, either.
Rafe felt about two feet tall, looking back at you with absolutely nothing to say. He was relieved for a second when you opened your mouth to speak first, until he heard the words.
“You don’t understand. The voice in the back of my head, the one I’ve spent years trying to silence, the one that tells me I’m not enough, that I’ll never be enough…it’s your voice, Rafe.”
He grasped desperately for a reply, but there were no words in the English language that made that statement any less devastating.
“Maybe that’s not fair,” you continued before he could come up with anything, “but I don’t think I have control over that. I don’t know how to undo it, if it can be undone. So those ten seconds that just happened out there? They’re  not nothing to me. When you dropped my hand at the sight of her, I felt like I was that stupid teenage girl again, giving my whole heart to the one person who knows how to break it. Blind and foolish and desperate for you to notice her. I don’t like that girl.”
You made it through the whole speech with a steady voice, up until the last sentence. Your voice cracked on those words, your heart doing the same as you pictured your younger self. The one who would sit on her bed for hours, rereading the texts she sent him and praying he’d reply.
Thinking about that version of yourself, you weren’t sure if you wanted to hug her or slap her. Surely, she’d hit you right back if she saw what you were doing now, potentially pushing away the boy she loved more than anything, finally having him within your grasp and letting him slip right through.
At the top of the stairs, unbeknownst to you, Carter was picturing that girl, too. She would roll her eyes at you back then, using sarcastic comments like “are you sure Rafe even knows how to read?” to mask her truer concern; that he could but he wouldn’t, and the heart you wore on your sleeve would end up crushed again. Even now, she couldn’t protect it, couldn’t save it from reaching out to this boy who did nothing but break it.
Frustration welled inside her, the absolute powerlessness to put an end to this cycle that hurts you feeling like a dark cloud over her head. The anger manifested into hot, watery tears gathering on her lash line. Without permission, one slipped through, rolling down her cheek slowly.
Topper caught the whole thing, and despite their fight and his resolve to freeze her out until she apologized, he couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out and stroking her cheek softly, wiping the tear away with a gentle swipe of his thumb.
They shared a look so full of unspoken words and tender emotions that they almost forgot about the conversation in the kitchen, until Rafe’s voice cut through the moment and pulled them from their silent reconciliation.
“Are you okay?” He asked you after you’d been silent for nearly a minute, trying desperately to compose yourself.
“Yes, that's all just a lot. I’m processing,” you sniffled.
“Take your time,” he said, pulling out one of the high back stools from the counter and motioning for you to sit in it.
Your body was so exhausted, even your stubborn anger at him couldn’t stop you from accepting the offer. You slumped on the plush stool, folding your arms on the counter and resting your chin on them.
“How do you like your eggs?” Rafe asked.
“Is that a pick-up line?” 
“Nope, just a question,” he said as he opened the high cupboard and pulled out a frying pan.
You tried to remind yourself you should reject his offer to feed you, you should storm out, you should tell him where he can put his frying pan…but you were hungry. And so tired.
“Sunny side up,” you answered.
He nodded and got to work cooking you breakfast, eggs and bacon sizzling on the stove, Rafe close by with a spatula in hand, silent as he stirred and flipped. You rested your head on your folded arms, eyes half-closed and brain sleepy, watching him. 
If you blocked out the last twenty minutes, you could pretend this morning was your real life, could let yourself imagine it really was all this simple and pleasant and sweet; he’d cook you breakfast, you’d make him coffee, and you’d kiss until the sun rose.
At the top of the stairs, Kelce stood and started descending, before Carter reached up and grabbed his arm.
“What are you doing?” She whispered.
“I’m hungry!” He whined.
“You can’t go down there,” Maddie scolded him, “give them some space.”
“Are we just gonna stay up here all day?” Tom complained as he and Jack stood to join Kelce’s crusade into the kitchen.
“Everybody sit down!” Topper whisper-yelled. “Give them five fucking minutes, you’ll all survive. You can fuck off back to your rooms if you want but no one’s going down there.”
Carter couldn’t help the heart eyes she made at him, surprised and delighted by his show of aggression in your defense.
Kelce groaned as he backed back down, Tom rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up as he trudged down the hall back to his room, Jack following with a huff.
“Kelce, I have a granola bar in my purse, c’mon,” Maddie offered, leading him towards her own door.
Alone again, Topper and Carter looked at each other for a long, quiet moment.
“I’m sorry,” she mouthed.
“I know,” he mouthed back.
She scooted towards him, nuzzling into his side as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, kissing her temple.
Downstairs, Rafe was done with your meal, scooping it onto a plate and sliding it to you across the counter.
“Thank you,” you sat up and began nibbling at a slice of bacon.
Rafe took the stool next to you with his own plate of food. You sat in silence for a while, only the sound of forks scraping against porcelain and the occasional “can you pass the salt?” between you.
Between bites, you rested your head on your arm again, nearly falling asleep.
“I’m so tired,” you mumbled sleepily.
“It’s been a long twenty-four hours,” Rafe agreed, taking a sip of his coffee.
“That’s an understatement,” you snorted, sitting up again and finishing the last bite of your eggs.
“What about…the next twenty-four hours?” He asked quietly.
You took a deep breath, the smile falling from your face as you considered the question underneath his question. You didn’t answer him right away, hopping down from the stool and collecting your plate and his, carrying them to the sink. Rafe was quick behind you, arm reaching around and pulling the dishes from your hands to lay them in the sink. His hand rested on your waist, turning you to face him, pulling you in. Reluctantly, and without returned tenderness, you let him.
“Rafe, I can’t…” you said sadly.
“Please just talk to me,” he pleaded, hands running up your arms and resting on your shoulders. You shook your head, blinking away fresh tears as you pulled away from him.
“It hurts too much, Rafe,” your voice cracked. “As great as the last few days have been, you can’t see that being close to you hurts me. I worked so hard to get over you. So this isn’t me throwing it all away, this is me protecting myself. Protecting what I’ve spent years rebuilding.”
“So what, that's it then? You’re just gonna go back to school and pretend this never happened?” The pain in his voice was palpable, and you cursed the part of you that wanted to reach out and make him feel better.
“I don’t know, Rafe,” a small tear slipped through, gliding slowly down your cheek.
“You’re just gonna stop talking to me, stop thinking about me?” He continued desperately.
You looked up at him finally, searching his face, nodding sadly.
“I’ve done it before.”
Hurt flashed in his crystal blue eyes, flinching like your words had burned him. “You didn’t…you don’t…think about me?”
“No,” you told him honestly, another tear joining the one before it. “Never. Because if I let myself think about you, I would’ve fallen apart. I’m not strong enough, I would’ve run to you, and every time I did that before, you’d let me down.”
“What about yesterday? What about this morning? Just think about the beach, everything was so good, it can be that way now…”
He reached out and cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing over the tears as he pulled you in toward him, kissing you out of sheer desperation. Like maybe if you tasted his lips, it’d transport you both back in time, back to the beach, back when he’d done and said everything right. 
You allowed him to take you there for just a second, before the incident on the front walk flashed in your mind again, the pain of rejection like a knife to your gut. You pulled away from him quickly, side stepping him and moving to the other side of the kitchen, creating as much distance between you as possible.
“No, no, you can’t just kiss me and act like what just happened with Cassie didn’t happen,” you shook your head rapidly, wiping your tear stained streaks with the backs of your hands. “I can’t do this right now, I need some time to think.”
It required fighting every impulse he had, but he didn’t push, didn’t close the space between you, didn’t try to regain the control he was so used to having. He just sighed deeply and nodded, eyes low.
“Okay, well let me know when you’re done…thinking.”
With one last longing look at you, he stepped away to the basement steps, stopping at the top and turning halfway toward you.
“Oh and that girl? The one who gave me her heart? For what it’s worth, I like her. Always have.”
With that, he was gone, the door clicking softly behind him.
Carter and Topper could hear you approach the bottom of the steps. Carter stood first, fully ready to greet you and grill you on everything that had happened since you last spoke. Topper could see all her questions and comments written on her face. He grabbed her hand and squeezed gently, stopping her before she marched down the stairs towards you. She looked at him in surprise but understood quickly as he gave her a slight shake of his head, whispering, “give her some space.”
Reluctantly, she nodded, allowing him to lead her quietly down the hall and into his room.
Your footsteps were heavy on the stairs, body aching. Your brain was so fried you couldn’t even pick one thing from the morning to focus on, like the part of your brain that processes events was temporarily out of order. So you stopped trying to think and just let your feet carry you to your bed, crawling under the covers in your clothes, falling quickly into a restless slumber.
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In your dreams, you were back in the kitchen with him, shoulder to shoulder in comfortable silence as you did the dishes together. Rafe washed and you dried. 
Only, it wasn’t the beach house kitchen, it was one you’d never been in before. And in that dream-state way of knowing something you don’t actually know, you were sure it was a kitchen the two of you shared, sometime in the distant, unwritten future.
(to be continued)
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a/n: I'm so sorry, I had to do it.......also the prom thing may or may not be based on a true story and I may or may not have cried writing it....
also I’m sick and tired so I didn’t edit much sorry for typos!
please note: the taglist for this series is closed. For updates when I post, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs <3
friendly reminder that writers live off of reblogs, don’t forget to feed your faves! 💘
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phefics · 1 year ago
Text
veritaserum
ship: fred weasley x reader x george weasley summary: fred and george dose the reader with a truth serum, which leads to her admitting a sexual fantasy including both brothers. warnings: dubious consent (truth potion is used to make the reader admit her sexual fantasies which then play out), pseudo-inc3st (the twins don't do anything sexual to each other but are both involved in the same sexual scenario), gender-neutral!reader (reader has a vagina but no pronouns are used) word count: 1.9k
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Being friends with the Weasley twins was a constant rollercoaster.
There was never a dull moment, always an adventure to go on, a prank to pull, or witty banter bouncing between you and the brothers. Sometimes, you were helping Fred and George pull off their next big joke, but other times, you were their target. Sure, it could be frustrating, but it was also fun for you, and you always found ways to get them back.
You had been friends with the twins since your first year at Hogwarts, and that friendship had continued past Hogwarts and followed you into early-adulthood. You visited them at the flat over their shop in Diagon Alley often, where they showed you prototypes for new products and made you laugh until you cried with their antics.
It was a cold evening when you appeared in their fireplace, a bit dusty from the ashes, and were greeted with excited shouts from Fred and George before being pulled into a group hug.
As you looked up at their grinning faces, you couldn’t believe that there were people who still got the twins confused.
Fred had more freckles on his face, while George’s shoulders and arms had an abundance of them. When Fred laughed, he threw his head back, cackling loudly, while George usually gave more reserved chuckles, laughing down at his lap. And, well, George was fully missing an ear now, and Fred had a large scar on his temple from the Battle, where a piece of castle wall had crashed down on top of him.
“Finally,” Fred said, man-handling you onto the couch. “We’ve been waiting ages!”
“I’m only a few minutes late,” you replied, glancing at their clock, which wasn’t even working—it read 3:15, but it was well past 7:00 judging by the darkness outside.
“And are our few minutes not important to you?” George asked, sitting by your side. “We could have been using that time to come up with more brilliant inventions.”
“Or planned a clever scheme to spill a bucket of water on your head when you arrived,” Fred added.
You rolled your eyes. “I’m terribly sorry to have wasted your precious time,” you said, tone thick with sarcasm.
It was nice catching up with them. They updated you on each member of the Weasley family, such as Fleur’s pregnancy with her and Bill’s first child, or Percy’s upcoming wedding. You updated them on your own life as well, and it wasn’t long until they had pushed a glass of Firewhiskey into your hands.
“So, Y/N,” Fred said, leaning against the back of the couch. You immediately recognized the glint of mischief in his brown eyes, and braced yourself for whatever ridiculous question he was about to pose.
“Which of us do you think is the better looking twin?”
You opened your mouth, intending to say something like ‘neither of you’ or ‘you’re identical—what kind of stupid question is that?’ but the sentence that spilled from your lips instead was, “Well, you look pretty much the same, so I’d say you guys are equally attractive. I think the scar makes you look pretty hot, Fred, but George can really pull off the whole missing ear thing.”
You clapped a hand over your mouth, face burning.
The twins both erupted into giggles.
“Oh, you’re too kind!” George said. “I’m glad you find my lack of an ear sexy.”
“And my scar is flattered,” Fred added.
“What did you two do?” you asked, scowling.
“We might have stumbled upon a vial of Veritaserum…” George said, trying and failing to look guilty. “And put it in your drink. Just a drop, though! It’ll wear off soon.”
You wanted to insult them, yell at them, call them every insult and curse under the sun, but no words would leave your tongue. It was like the truth serum wouldn’t even let you pretend to be pissed off. Sure, this was an invasion of your privacy and totally sketchy, but you had known Fred and George for so long, you were sort of used to their antics by now. You should have been way angrier than you were, but it was just so typical of them, you couldn’t muster much more than annoyance.
What you did manage to say was, “Why?”
Both twins shrugged.
“For fun,” Fred said.
“And because we were curious about something,” George replied.
“About what?”
“About which of us you like better.”
You blinked at them. “Are you serious? We aren’t eleven anymore. Is it really a contest between you two to be the better twin?”
“Not really, no,” Fred said. “Even though we all know that it's me.”
George reached over you to playfully shove his brother’s shoulder. “It’s not about proving anything. We’re just curious. So, Y/N, who do you like better: me or Freddie?”
“I like you equally,” you said. “You are both hilarious, intelligent, and my best friends. I find it easier to connect with George on serious things, but Fred always knows the right thing to say when I need cheering up.”
Your face was flushing deeper, embarrassed at the cheesy, sentimental words that left your mouth. Fred and George had grown up in an incredibly loving, affectionate family and had never shied away from making their love known, but it was awkward to voice your own feelings out loud like that.
Both twins seemed rather touched, though
“Wow, I was expecting you to have to pick,” Fred said. “But that’s oddly sweet.”
You groaned. “Okay, okay, yes, I love you both, can we knock this off now?”
“No, we have more questions!”
“Such as…?”
“Would you fuck either of us?” George asked.
Fred was normally the more vulgar of the two, and the question coming from George’s lips instead took you even more off guard.
“Yes,” you said, unable to stop yourself. “Either of you. Or both of you.”
“At the same time?”
“Yes.”
Fred and George also showed their emotions differently. Fred was better at keeping his feelings to himself, but when he was flustered, his ears would turn pink. His ears had flushed slightly, and his eyes were wide as he licked his lips, clearly intrigued by your answer. George was also flushed, but the color went to his face, and he brushed his thumbs repeatedly over his thighs, a nervous tick he’d always had.
“Have you thought about this a lot?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Tell us how you’d want it.”
You couldn’t help but answer. “I would let you strip off my clothes, groping me. One of you is behind me, kissing my neck as you take off my shirt. The other is at my feet, pulling my pants down. Neither of you shut up the whole time, talking about me like I’m not even there. Commenting to each other about how pretty I am, how wet my pussy is for you. Whoever is between my legs starts to go down on me, while the other holds my body still so I can’t move away from how good it feels. I cum on your tongue, and the other wants a turn, too…”
The twins were both clearly aroused as you spoke.
“Do you want that? Now?” Fred asked, his voice low.
“Yes,” you breathed. 
They waste no time switching their positions on the couch, George pulling your back against his chest while Fred positions himself between your legs, his hands eagerly moving to the waistband of your pants, tugging at it.
George took his time, hands sliding up your shirt, touching softly as he felt you up, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, lips teasing the skin there.
You couldn’t help but whine under their touches, loving every moment of it. You had truly dreamt of this for years, always too afraid to ruin the friendship. Sure, you had kissed both twins for dares back at school, but this was real and intimate and beautiful.
Fred made quick work of getting your bottom half undressed, and he kissed his ways along your thighs, cupping your ass with one hand, squeezing hard.
“So fuckin’ hot,” George breathed.
“I know, right?” Fred replied. “So good for us, too. Are we making your fantasy come true, love?”
You nodded, whimpering softly.
“So needy, too. You want to cum for us?”
You nodded again. “Yes, yes please.”
George chuckled, nipping at your ear as Fred’s mouth finally reached your pussy, his tongue licking tentatively at you before he found your clit, which he immediately focused his attention on.
Your noises only grew louder, more desperate.
“Already? You’re not very good at this whole build-up thing, Freddie,” George said.
“I think we’ve waited long enough for this,” Fred replied before returning to his task.
“You don’t want to be patient, do you, darling?” George asked, hugging you tightly from behind. “You’ve wanted this for so long, you just want to be good for us, take everything we’ve got?”
“Fuck yes,” you moan.
Fred was clearly just as eager as you are, apparently trying to make you cum as quickly as possible, like he was placing bets in his head.
“You like that, hm? Is he good at it? Making you feel good?” George said.
“Feels so fucking good.”
“Good. You gonna cum for him?”
“Yes, yes, I’m—”
It didn’t take long at all. Fred’s tongue was good for more than just witty comments, and your legs trembled as he sat up, lips shining with your slick and a smug smile on his face.
“I think this is the part where we switch jobs, Georgie.”
Your pussy was already so wet, so sensitive, you knew that George would be able to make you cum fast, too. It was almost embarrassing how easy you were, how turned on they made you.
The twins switched positions, and Fred wrapped his arms around your middle sweetly, dragging his fingers over your waist and making goosebumps spread over your abdomen, squirming in his grasp.
“Don’t try and get away, sweet thing,” Fred said. “Otherwise George won’t be able to have his turn. Just be good for us, okay? Be a good little slut.”
You whined, face hot as George’s lips found your inner thighs and kissed the skin there, slowly, teasingly. He was the more patient, more methodical of the two. He wasn’t going to go straight for your clit, he was going to keep you wanting. Maybe until you begged.
Fred began sucking a hickey into your throat, leaving you a moaning mess as the twins both worshiped your body like it was something sacred.
Finally, George’s tongue found your pussy, teasing your hole and folds before even bothering to touch your clit.
“Should he put his fingers inside you?” Fred asked.
You nodded fervently, thrusting your hips.
George complied immediately, sliding one finger inside which was quickly followed by a second, pumping slowly before curling into that special spot, which he had found surprisingly easily.
Your second orgasm came just as quickly as the first, your hands balling into fists and your toes curling. Once your body was able to relax, you looked up through teary eyes to see George licking your taste off of his fingers.
“Was that everything you dreamed?” Fred asked.
You opened your mouth, expecting the answer to roll off your tongue, but it didn’t. You realized that the potion had worn off, and smirked.
“It could have been better,” you said, thrilled with your ability to lie again.
Obviously, Fred and George had to remedy that immediately.
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ellecdc · 7 months ago
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so what if im ovulating 🙄 doesnt change anything
anyways closer to a full moon remus would be so mean and rough and sirius would have to be the one thats soft with you and praises you and its such a 180 it makes you feel even dizzier than you were already feeling, hed coo and tell you how “youre doing such a good job for our moony, sweet girl” and remus would just be grunting “mine mine mine mine”
ive not rly studied for my exam do u think theyd pass me if i wrote this instead? xoxo
....... I'm not proud of this.......
wolfstar x fem/afab!reader close to the full moon (nsfw, 18+)
CW: pure filth, 100% smut. little fluff in the aftercare. p in v sex, cumming inside someone, over stimulation, slight subspace mention (?), slight dom/sub dynamics if you really squint and look at it sideways, writer is still new to writing smut and not well versed so be nice
There were quite a few things that Remus and Sirius had in common.
They were both very mischievous, they were both funny and teasing, they were both very protective and possessive, and they both seemed crazy about you.
But there were also a lot of differences between your two boyfriends. 
Remus was calm and assured; he was your rock and safe space when life got crazy. He was the good cop to Sirius’ bad cop, he was always down to leave the party early, and he was so incredibly soft with you.
And Sirius, whilst soft on you, was rarely ever soft with you. He was boisterous and excitable; always down for fun and adventure. He was quick to anger but just as quick to fold when your lip wobbled or you bat your eyelashes at him, and he knew how to push all of your buttons like a professional pianist’s fingers dancing along the keys of your soul. 
And it was because of this that you found your current predicament quite contrary to the norm (and thus, so much hotter). 
“I…I can’t, I can’t.” You cried breathlessly; currently held upright by a strong arm around your ribs and another hand gripping your neck.
The only response you got from the boy behind you was a low grumble as he tightened his grip on you and thrusted into you with new vigor. 
“Can you give Rem one more, sweetness?” Your usually very brazen  boyfriend murmured softly, pushing some of your sweaty  hair away from your face so he could see you. 
You keened and shook your head as you felt Remus move his hand that had been roughly gripping your waist down to your clit; every muscle in your body strung taut in response. 
“She’s close.” Remus gruffed from behind you before replacing his teeth gently into your neck.
“Are you close, sweets?” Sirius confirmed. 
It was too much, too much. You were very quickly reaching your… (third? Fourth?) orgasm of the evening and you weren’t even sure you’d been going at it for that long. 
Sirius was in much the same state, currently soft and satiated below you where he’d just spilled down your throat before you were pulled back up vertically to the sound of steady chants of “mine” by Remus. 
That had been his third of the evening too. 
“You’ve been so good, baby; so good for our Moony, yeah?” He cooed at you softly as he sat up. You felt tears form in your eyes as Remus shifted you in his grip so that your knees were barely touching the bed any longer. 
“Tell her she’s been a good girl, Moons.” Sirius encouraged gently, taking your hand in his that you quickly held in a death grip.
“S’good.” Remus nearly growled behind you. “My perfect girl.”
You cried out as you felt yourself fall over the edge one last time, tears falling down your cheeks as Remus fucked you through it.
Remus shifted his hands again to grip each of your wrists behind your hips and let your torso fall forward into the bed as he sped up his already merciless pace into your sopping cunt; the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing against the walls of the room. 
You felt Sirius’ hand push hair away from your neck and rub a thumb against your temple. 
“Gonna fill your good girl up, Rem?” He purred to your boyfriend.
Though you couldn’t see it, you could hear the two of them share a deep kiss which never even slowed Remus’ thrusts. 
“Mine.” Remus repeated as he pulled away from Sirius.
“All yours, Moony. Show her how much you love her, hm?”
And with that, Remus’ thrusts stuttered before he was spilling deep inside of you.
He came with a sound that bordered a whine and a growl as he fell forward; his body blanketing yours and burying his face into your neck as you both fought to catch your breath.
You’re not sure if you had fallen asleep, but the next thing you knew you could feel gentle kisses being pressed to your shoulder as Remus pulled out of you as gently as possible; with how oversensitive you were, it still caused you to hiss.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, dovey.” He whispered; pressing more kisses to your neck. “Are you sore?”
You whined in response and tried to shove your face further into the bed.
“Talk to us baby, are you okay?” Sirius added, appearing beside you and encouraging you to face him.
“M’Okay.” You mumbled, staring what you were sure was rather dopily at your long-haired boyfriend.
“I think Pads ran you a bath, sweet thing.” Remus murmured quietly, rubbing soothing strokes up and down your spine from behind you. “You feel okay to get up?”
“Yeah.” You sighed, though made no movements to rise from your current horizontal position.
You heard Sirius chuckle but Remus made a sympathetic cooing sound. “I’m so sorry, dovey. Are you sore?”
“No. Just sensitive.” You grumbled as you pushed yourself up to sit back on your ankles. “That was a lot.”
Remus sighed and brushed some hair away from your face. “It was a lot, but was it too much?” He clarified; tone inlaid with a subtle vulnerability completely at odds with the relentlessness he’d just treated you with.
“No.” You said as you offered him a sleepy smile. “Not too much.”
“I, for one, had a ton of fun.” Sirius said with a clap of his hands, causing Remus to snort a laugh.
“Yeah I bet you did.” He responded teasingly. 
“Wanna take a bath, princess? Go pee and then you can climb in with moons.” Sirius instructed as he helped you stand up on slightly wobbly legs. 
“No, she can climb in with you.” Remus argued. 
“Why would she climb in with me? I ran the bath for the two of you.”
“I was the one who took things too far, so-” Remus started, causing both you and Sirius to squawk in protest.
“She just said it wasn’t too much.” Sirius drawled. “Let me take care of you guys!”
“No!”You listened to the two boys argue over who got to perform the aftercare for the other (and thus, who loved each other the most, according to Sirius) as you went pee and then sunk into the perfectly drawn bath alone.
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felassan · 6 months ago
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The Next Dragon Age Has a New Title
by Author - BioWare - Posted on June 6, 2024
"Join us on Tuesday, June 11 for the Official Gameplay Reveal Hi everyone, Summer is nearly upon us, and as promised, we’re ready to provide an update on our big reveal. We’d like to invite the world to join us on Tuesday, June 11, for the official first look at gameplay for the next Dragon Age! After Dragon Age: Inquisition launched, the studio was given an incredible opportunity to explore, test, and validate a variety of gameplay concepts as we worked to determine what the next Dragon Age could look like. We brought everything to the table which, yes, even included a multiplayer concept. The time we spent experimenting and iterating gradually taught us a lot. This work, and the amazing support from EA, helped us re-focus on creating an incredible single player game, with all the choices, characters and world building you’d expect from us. At BioWare, we create worlds of adventure, conflict and companionship, where you’re at the center of it all. As fans of our franchise know, every Dragon Age game has delivered a new standalone story. Set in the world of Thedas, these tales explore epic locales and threats, always thrusting you into a new conflict. Each game also introduces a new lead hero – The Warden, Hawke, The Inquisitor – that you can call your own. You can expect all that, and more, with the new game. And of course, much like your unique hero, it wouldn’t be a Dragon Age game without an amazing cast of companions – right?  Each of the seven unique characters that make up your companions will have deep and compelling storylines where the decisions you make will impact your relationships with them – as well as their lives. You’ll unite this team of unforgettable heroes as you take on a terrifying new threat unleashed on the world. Naturally, the Dread Wolf still has an important part in this tale, but you and your companions – not your enemies – are the heart of this new experience. So, to capture what this game is all about, we changed the name as the original title didn’t show just how strongly we feel about our new heroes, their stories and how you’ll need to bring them together to save all of Thedas. We proudly introduce to you Dragon Age™: The Veilguard.
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We know you’ve been waiting a long time for this reveal and we’re so ready to show you what we’ve been up to. We’ll see you on Tuesday, June 11th at 8:00am PT at the Dragon Age YouTube channel with over 15 minutes of gameplay from the opening moments of the game that has you jumping back into Thedas on your new adventure. This moment means so much to everyone at BioWare, and we wouldn’t be here without you. We’re ready to have some fun, so join the chat early…we’ve got a few special surprises for you.  Thank you for all your support. See you soon, Gary McKay Executive Producer, Dragon Age, and General Manager, BioWare"
[source]
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fvsm4x · 2 months ago
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You and Gojo are happily dating until Gojo grows closer to your new friend. WC. 2k
a/n: I wrote this out of boredom so it‘s more of a drabble (ᵕ—ᴗ—) not proofread and short!!
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You and Gojo decide to spend a lazy Saturday afternoon together, starting with a visit to your favorite coffee shop. The place has a cozy, inviting atmosphere, with soft music playing in the background and the gentle hum of conversation creating a comforting buzz.
As you wait in line to place your order, you notice a familiar face at a nearby table. It’s Hana, the new friend you recently made at a local art class. She’s sitting alone, engrossed in a book, with a half-empty cup of coffee in front of her.
A smile spreads across your face as you wave to her. “Hana! Hey!”
Hana looks up, her eyes lighting up with recognition and delight. “Y/N! Hi!” she replies, closing her book and waving you over.
You glance at Gojo, who’s busy contemplating the menu. “Do you mind if we join my friend for a bit?” you ask him.
He looks up, smiling warmly. “Of course, lead the way.”
You approach Hana’s table, Gojo following close behind. “Hana, this is my boyfriend, satoru. Satoru, this is Hana. We met at that art class I told you about.”
Gojo extends his hand, his usual confident and charming demeanor on full display. “Nice to meet you, Hana.”
Hana shakes his hand, smiling brightly. “Nice to meet you too, satoru. Y/N has told me so much about you.”
Gojo raises an eyebrow, casting a playful glance your way. “All good things, I hope.”
You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Of course. Only the best.”
The three of you sit down together, and the conversation flows effortlessly. Hana and Gojo quickly find common ground, discussing everything from books to travel to the latest movies. You’re happy to see them getting along so well, and the afternoon passes in a blur of laughter and engaging conversation.
At one point, you excuse yourself to go to the restroom. As you walk away, you can’t help but glance back and smile at the sight of Gojo and Hana chatting animatedly. You feel a sense of contentment knowing that your boyfriend and your friend are hitting it off.
When you return, Gojo and Hana are laughing about something you missed, their faces lit up with genuine enjoyment. “What did I miss?” you ask, slipping back into your seat.
Gojo grins at you. “Just telling Hana about that time we got lost on our road trip and ended up at that quirky little diner.”
Hana chuckles, shaking her head. “Sounds like quite an adventure. You two must have so much fun together.”
You nod, feeling a swell of affection for Gojo. “We do. He’s always full of surprises.”
As the afternoon turns into early evening, the three of you eventually decide to leave the coffee shop. Hana has other plans, so you part ways with promises to meet up again soon.
Walking back to your car, you feel Gojo’s arm drape around your shoulders. “Hana’s great,” he says, genuinely impressed. “I can see why you two get along so well.”
You smile up at him. “I’m glad you like her. It’s nice to have friends who get along with my boyfriend.”
He gives you a squeeze, his expression softening. “Anything that makes you happy makes me happy.”
You lean into him, feeling a sense of contentment and security. Little did you know that this simple meeting would set off a chain of events that would eventually test the strength of your relationship. For now, you’re just grateful to have spent another wonderful day with the person you love.
The initial delight of Hana and Gojo's instant friendship has started to wear thin for you. What once seemed like an innocuous bond now feels like an ever-growing chasm between you and Gojo. You find yourself spending more evenings alone, as Gojo increasingly makes plans with Hana.
It’s another Friday night, and you’re sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly. Gojo had promised you a movie night, but he’s late. Again. You glance at the clock, feeling the familiar knot of disappointment in your stomach.
The door finally opens, and Gojo walks in, looking carefree and cheerful. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” he says, not meeting your eyes as he kicks off his shoes. “Hana wanted to check out this new café, and we lost track of time.”
You force a smile, trying to hide your frustration. “It’s okay. Did you have fun?”
He nods enthusiastically, sitting down next to you. “Yeah, it was great. You should come next time!”
You sigh inwardly, knowing that he’s said this before but never actually made it happen. “Sure,” you reply, trying to keep the conversation light. “What about our movie night?”
Gojo’s face falls slightly, as if he’d forgotten. “Oh, right. We can still watch something now if you want.”
You shake your head, the disappointment evident in your voice. “It’s late, Satoru. I’m actually kind of tired.”
He frowns, sensing the tension but not understanding its depth. “Okay, we’ll do it another night then.”
The weeks continue in a similar fashion. Gojo spends more and more time with Hana, and despite his attempts to include you, it never quite works out. You try to communicate your feelings, but every time you bring it up, he brushes it off, assuring you that you’re overthinking things.
Tonight, you’re determined to have a good time. You dress up, hoping to remind Gojo of what you share. The party is in full swing when you arrive, music blasting and people chatting animatedly. You stick close to Gojo at first, but soon he’s drawn away by Hana.
You watch them from across the room, your heart sinking as they laugh together, seemingly lost in their own world. You try to join the conversation, but they seem to share a connection that makes you feel like an outsider.
Eventually, you decide to give them space, hoping that mingling with other friends will lift your spirits. But as the night goes on, you can’t shake the uneasy feeling. Your eyes constantly drift back to Gojo and Hana.
Near midnight, you decide to find Gojo and suggest heading home. As you make your way through the crowded house, you freeze at the sight of them in the corner. Gojo leans in, his lips meeting Hana’s in a kiss that’s all too intimate.
Your heart shatters. The room seems to close in on you, and the noise fades into a dull roar. You feel a mix of anger, hurt, and betrayal as you watch the person you love with someone else.
Gathering your courage, you step forward. “Satoru!” you call out, your voice trembling.
He pulls back abruptly, his eyes widening in shock and guilt as he sees you. “Y/N, it’s not what it looks like,” he starts, but the hurt in your eyes stops him.
Hana looks horrified, realizing the gravity of what just happened. “Y/N, I’m so sorry,” she says, but you can’t bear to hear it.
Tears stream down your face as you turn and push through the crowd, desperate to get away. Gojo follows you, calling your name, but you don’t stop until you’re outside, the cool night air hitting your face.
“Y/N, please,” Gojo pleads, catching up to you. “Let me explain.”
You spin around, the pain and anger boiling over. “Explain what, Satoru? That you kissed my friend? That you made me feel like I’m not enough?”
He looks stricken, his usually confident demeanor shattered. “I’ve been an idiot. I got too close to Hana and I let it get out of hand. But I love you, Y/N. You’re the one I want to be with.”
You shake your head, your voice breaking. “How can I believe that after everything? How am I supposed to trust you again?”
Gojo steps closer, his eyes filled with desperation. “I’ll do anything to make this right. I’ll cut ties with Hana if that’s what it takes. Just please, give me a chance to fix this.”
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “You think that will fix what you’ve done?”
Gojo looks down, his voice trembling. “I... I’m sorry—”
“That won’t fix what you’ve done, Satoru.” You breathe out, your voice shaky with emotion. “You threw away our relationship like it was nothing.”
His heart pounds in his chest, a mixture of fear and regret. He reaches out to touch your arm, but you pull away, the pain and anger in your eyes making him flinch. “Please, Y/N, it wasn’t like that. I never meant for any of this to happen. I got caught up, I made a terrible mistake. But I love you. You’re the one I want.”
You shake your head, tears streaming down your face. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have kissed her. You wouldn’t have neglected me for weeks. Do you have any idea how worthless you’ve made me feel?”
Gojo’s face crumples, genuine fear and regret in his eyes. “I know I messed up, but please, don’t give up on us. I’ll do anything, just tell me how to fix this.”
You let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh in the quiet night. “There’s nothing you can do to fix this, Satoru. The trust is gone. Every time I look at you, all I’ll see is you with her. How am I supposed to move past that?”
He steps back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’ll prove to you that I can change. I’ll make it right, I swear.”
“Prove it?” you scoff, the hurt turning into anger. “You should have been proving it all along, not now when it’s too late. You didn’t care about us when you were spending all your time with her. Now you’re scared because you’re losing me.”
Gojo’s eyes widen, tears forming as he realizes the truth in your words. “I am scared. I’m terrified of losing you. Please, just give me a chance.”
You shake your head, the weight of his betrayal pressing down on you. “I can’t, Satoru. I can’t keep waiting for you to realize what you have until it’s gone.”
He falls silent, the reality of your words sinking in. He looks lost, broken, and you feel a pang of sympathy, but it’s overshadowed by the pain he’s caused.
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marte-14 · 3 months ago
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"That time I killed a god"
The three oldest Links decide to go down to the bar of the tavern they are staying at and have a drink.
It's the first time they have done this since they met.
"I don't really drink much." Sky says:" What should I order?" He isn't an expert on alcohol:" I am going to take a beer, it's pretty light." Time responds:" I will take a glass of rum."
So they sit down at the counter and order, Sky copies Time's beer.
They are having light conversations, telling fun stories. Just a nice time.
When Wars finishes his glass when Sky and Time are at the half of theirs:" Another glass please." Time looks at him:" Don't over do it." He reminds him:" Don't worry about it, Sprite. I have a good tolerance."
As they talk, the two haven't noticed that Sky has been silent for a while.
The alcohol is hitting Sky pretty hard. He isn't even realising, his mind is already wondering about other things. Thinking about Zelda, his home, his loftwing....
Then to his last battle with Demise.
Normally it would be a bad memory, the hardest battle of his life. But right now he remembers it as the most funny and absurd thing of his life.
He giggles and, without thinking, says:" Did I ever tell you about that time I killed a god?"
Time and Wars turn confused by their friend's words, thinking that the alcohol is already messing with them:" Eh?"
"I never told you about that? Alright then-" Sky starts to talk about his journey, but it's almost nonsense.
He is telling things out of order, giving names and places without context or much of an explanation.
Wars and Time let him talk, not really getting any answer to the million questions in their head.
Finally, Sky stops talking, slowly falling asleep on the counter.
The other two Heroes help him get upstairs to his room.
"Woah." Legend says surprise, Sky and him are sharing a room:" How much did he drink?!"
Wars takes off Sky's shoes and places him on the bed:" He barely finished one beer."
..................
The next day, in the early afternoon, Time and Wars decide to confront Sky.
"Sky can we talk?" Time calls him over.
Sky had a rough morning, but after eating lunch he is feeling better:" Sure." They go to a more isolated place.
"About last night..." Wars starts:" Oh yeah... Sorry about that!" Sky is quick to apologise:" I didn't think my tolerance was so bad. I am sorry that we had to stop longer." Since they all knew Sky wasn't going to wake up early that morning, they all decided to stay another day in the tavern.
"Don't worry about that. We needed more time to take information anyway." The Captain reassures him:" You said strange stuff last night. About killing a god..."
"Oh."
They retell everything that Sky told them.
In the end the only thing that they understood is that: Sky fought someone's toes with a groosenator? Jumped off sky islands and fought a god. All of this to save Zelda.
"Oh goddess..." Sky sighs, hating his drunk self.
"You don't have to tell us anything. We just want you to know." Time reassures him, but Sky shakes his head:" Look..."
"You know that I haven't fought Ganon, I fought a god called Demise and killed him at the end of my adventure. But it wasn't something I really wanted to share."
Wars interrupts him:" And we will act as if we heard nothing, alright? At the bar there were only us, the others don't know about it."
Sky is glad.
They decided to never talk about it again and, from now on, Sky is only drinking non alcoholic drinks.
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plutoasteroids · 2 months ago
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PAC - How Will Your FS' Siblings Feel About You
This is a general reading so take what resonates and leave what doesn't. Especially because not everyone's FS has siblings so if you aren't drawn to a pile that could be why or there are just no messages for you in this reading.
THIS READING IS ALLEGEDLY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY CHOICES MADE IN RELATION TO MY READINGS!
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Pile 1 is the picture of Alexa Demie in sunglasses
Pile 2 is the Black and White picture
Pile 3 the picture with Fairy wings
Pile 4 The picture with her holding a knif3
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PILE 1
Okay I do feel like your FS' siblings may be unsure of you at first because you might be someone completely different from their usual type for example you could be of a different race or background that they aren't used to so they may feel a bit sceptical about you especially at the very early stages of them getting to know you. Regardless of a tough first impression I feel like most of their siblings will eventually like you but there is one sibling that will hate your guts and the reasons could vary from person to person but overall it's just this vibe of them feeling like you aren't good enough for their sibling (your fs) and to be honest I don't think that specific sibling will ever like you there is a lot of deep-rooted jealousy and insecurity that you trigger in them without you knowing but anyways it won't affect your marriage/ relationship with your fs or the rest of their family. For the actually nice siblings of your fs, I feel like you will all have a lot of fun together going on adventures and trips and just enjoying life. At some point which will be pretty early on they might even start seeing you as their sibling and it will feel like things aren't complete if you aren't there too (sooo sweet). To be honest I feel you will have a specific one of your fs sibling that you will be super super close with just the connection is flowy and fun, it will feel like you guys are life long best friends. Don't worry about the one hater they genuinely won't matter, it will be annoying but it won't matter. Your fs family will be on your side and your fs side so they will immediately shut down the bs every time they act out of line.
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PILE 2
Okayyyy so you guys are my controversial pile lmfaooo. So, upon first impression your fs' siblings will definitely find you confident, sexy alluring, badass and just glamorous. You take care of yourself and dress well and they can see that some more than others. I feel like you won't necessarily have a friendly relationship with your fs' siblings it will be more civil than anything especially because I feel like you won't see them much, so you won't get the chance to build a deeper relationship with them. I also feel like you have your fs wrapped around your little finger and they do notice this it's honestly obvious to everyone that your fs worships the actual ground you walk on but anywayssss. To the controversial bit I do feel like your fs will have a sibling that will have a bit of a crush on you but its nothing more than an innocent crush and it won't develop into anything more and I do feel like it will be something that will be joked about for a long time. My pile 2 I feel like you will be marrying into money. So overall this will be a very civil relationship with them no hate, no jealousy, you just get along with them well especially on the few ocassions that you do and will see them.
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PILE 3
Okay, they will view you as pretty innocent. They may be the type to make overtly inappropriate jokes and you may not react to them, or you will seem confused making you innocent in their eyes. I feel like your fs' siblings are more on the loud, fun, obnoxious side and you aren't like that so to them they will view you as quite shy and reserved because you aren't acting as loud and carefree as they are. I feel like you are the type to use logic and be more observant in situations involving people which will extend to them feeling like you are quite cold towards them which isn't the caseagain because oyu are more of an observer than someone who will engage inw hatever they are doing. They may not necessarily like you nor will they ahte you because you will still be quite polite it's just that you won't engage in their version of fun which may make them see you as stuck up and a bit boring. Overall, the relationship here feels a bit rough round the edges but it will get better with time as you all learn each other they will understand that it's just how you are and there is no bad blood between all of you.
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PILE 4
This pile is not afraid to get down and dirty. You are outspoken, confident and the no bullshit type. You may like things direct and straight to the point which might honestly catch people off guard and in this case your fs' siblings. I feel like they may have grown up in a setting where you have to always be polite or pick your words carefully, but you aren't like that which might come as a shock and will take a lot of getting used to on their end. I feel like there is equal learning, you learning to be more sensitive because not everyone takes being overly direct well ad them learning that you mean well but you are just very open and outspoken. I feel like overall though they will like you and you will get along quite well with them it will just take some getting used to each other. I wouldn't say you will be the best of friends, but you will certainly get along well with each other, and you will make good memories together. They will learn to let loose, and you will have wild, childlike fun...eventually.
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wilwheaton · 5 months ago
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hello mr wil wheaton when you were my age (like exactly i think) you were filming stand by me
I turned 13 during production, so if you're about to become a teenager, I hope you'll let me offer some thoughts that I wish an adult had shared with me, then?
I know this is a wall of text, and giving someone this much of your attention is a HUGE ask. Maybe bookmark this for another time, if you're not into hearing an old man talk.
I wrote this a few days before I turned 50. Thank you in advance for listening, and I wish you a life filled with joy, unconditional love, kindness, and adventure.
Hey everyone! An old man is talking!
In seven days, I will be 50 years-old. This is ... weird. I do not feel the way I expected I would feel when I was approaching 50, nor do any of my friends. The only time I feel like I'm middle-aged is when my body does some bullshit that takes me down for hours because I had the nerve to stand up quickly. And I really hate it when I have to use the flashlight on my phone to see a menu. I mean, at that point, I may as well be dropping my pants for free and singing the Old Gray Mare.
Anyway. This has been on my mind for a little bit, so I had something to say when someone used my tumblr ask me thingy earlier this week:
Q: I hope I'm as cool as you when I'm 49. I'd like to think I'm taking the right steps towards that version of myself. A: So I'm not sure I'm cool, but I do know that I don't suck, and that it's a choice I make every day. I desperately wish someone in my family had told me, or shown me by example, that getting older doesn't mean getting stupid and boring and stuffy and extremely uncool. I wish I'd known that, because I spent all of my life until I was in my 40s feeling like there was this day coming very soon when I would have to stop listening to punk, stop playing video games, put on a suit, and start yelling at kids for no good reason. I didn't know that you don't have to suddenly stop being who you are and become something or someone you hate, just because of a certain age. I know that's super obvious, but to young me, it was not. My dad was an asshole, my mom never showed up for me. Directors and people on set had been treating me like a thing for my entire life. I got yelled at for no reason from adults who knew better almost every day. Most of my elementary school teachers were authoritarian, evangelical assholes. All of these different adults, consistently, shut me down and made me feel like I didn't matter, the things I liked were stupid, and my opinions were invalid because of reasons I didn't understand because I was a dumb kid. So I presumed that when you got to be a certain age, that's what happened. I didn't want to be that, at all, and I was sincerely afraid of the day it would happen. But as I got older, I discovered that all that stuff I hated about adults doesn't automatically happen. Those adults I just mentioned all made a choice to be an asshole. I just didn't know it. I was in my early 20s when I did a movie with a cinematographer who was, I think, 45 at the time. He was the coolest, kindest, most artistic dude I'd ever known. He mentored me and we had epic fun making great art together. I remember telling him, "I'm not afraid of being in my 40s like I used to be. I didn't know you could still be cool." It's sad, that I grew up in such a toxic environment, and didn't know any of these things. So, 9 days before I turn 50, here are a couple things I have figured out: You know who sucks when they hit 49 and 50? People who sucked when they were 20 and never grew up. You know who is an asshole at 49 and 50? Yep. Someone who was an asshole as a kid and never experienced consequences for being an asshole. Hitting middle age has been awesome for me. Other than the aging of my body and its reluctance / refusal to do what I want it to do, I love everything about it. I wish I hadn't spent so much of my life being afraid that, when I hit 50, it was all over. Because honestly it's kind of just starting. The coolest stuff in my life to date has all happened in the last ten years, and I'm so grateful that it coincided with me figuring out a lot of shit so I could enjoy it.
The best part of getting older, by several thousand light years, is the part where we figure out how to stop putting up with other people's bullshit, and we contract our social circle until it's only populated with a VERY few people who deserve us. And I am incredibly grateful for these occasional opportunities to be a 49 year-old dad who can say all the things that would have been reassuring for 19 year-old me to hear (he wouldn't have understood, but 29 year-old me would have remembered, and he would have understood. I think.) I sincerely hope someone hears it and finds it helpful. Anyway, you're gonna be fine. Just remember that being cool, kind, honest, honorable, reliable, listening and showing up … they are all choices. If you want to be cool when you're 49, make the choice and set the example for someone to follow you. Treat kids the way you wanted to be treated when you were young. Listen to them when they offer you the privilege, because that means they trust you, and you have credibility with them. Be a mentor. Be supportive. Show up. Make a choice to be the person you need in the world, and never stop being that person. Start today, and when you're nearing 50 like I am, hopefully you'll remember who you needed right now, so you can be that person to someone else in the future. You're already asking the right questions and taking the first steps. I believe in you. You've got this.
Okay, if you've come this far, perhaps you'll follow me a little bit more, and read a thing I wrote about talking to students just a tiny bit older than you, which contains my core values.
Be honest. I’m a very old man, relative to y’all, and I’ve learned that the only currency that really matters in this world is the truth.
Be honorable. This dovetails with number one. You attract to yourself what you put into the world. Dishonorable people will take everything from you and leave you with nothing. Do your best to be a person they aren’t attracted to.
Work hard. I don’t mean, like, at your crappy minimum wage job you hate. I mean do the hard work that makes relationships work, that gets you ahead in your education, that gets you closer to your goals. Everything worth doing is hard. Everything worth doing requires hard work. Sooner or later, you’re going to run into something in your life that’s really hard, and you’ll want to give up, but it’s something you care so much about, you’ll do whatever you can to achieve it. It’s going to be hard, but it’s going to be less hard for someone who has practiced doing the hard things all along, than it is for someone who doesn’t know how to do the hard work because they’ve always chosen the easy path.
Always do your best. Even if you don’t get the result you wanted, doing your best — which will vary from day to day, moment to moment — is all you can ever do. We tell athletes to leave it all on the field. Whatever your version of that is, do it.
This is the most important one. This is the one I hope you’ll all hear and embrace. This is the one I hope you’ll share with your peers: Always be kind.”
When I read number 5, I looked up at them. I was so happy to see a classroom filled with teenagers who were all listening intently, even the ones I thought had tuned me out. “Here’s the thing about being Kind, versus being Nice,” I said. “I have interacted with lots of nice people who are incredibly unkind. Why is that? How do you choose to be nice but not kind?”
I pointed to my head. “This is where nice comes from,” I said. Then, I put my hand over my heart. “This is where kind comes from.” I put my hands out, like, “get it?”
There was this collective gasp of realization that I did not expect, at all. One kid said “Oh damn!” I saw a few kids look at each other like the trick had just been explained to them. They heard me. They really, really heard me. And it was amazing.
Okay, that's all. If you're still here, thank you for giving me so much of your time and attention. I hope you'll come back in a few years, and let me know how you're doing.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 14 days ago
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The Shy One
Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this and this
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Bucky Barnes
Summary: a night out ends in an embarrassing encounter.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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It feels like you’re seeing the world through tinted glass. The low lights, the buzz of voices, and the subtle clink of glasses feed the haze around you. That and the cocktail in your hand. Just ice now. Your second. You’re surprised how easily it went down. 
“Want another?” Mikayla asks as you play with the thin straw. 
“Maybe not yet,” you shrug. 
She grins at Alina, “lightweight?” 
The other women laugh. You’re too embarrassed to admit it but you are. In fact, it’s the first time you’ve ever tasted alcohol. If they don’t mock you for confessing, they wouldn’t believe you. 
“So happy you came out,” Katy grins. 
“Yeah, too bad you didn’t make the work mixer last month,” Lu says. 
“Hm, yeah, I just... I couldn’t make it,” you chew your lip. 
“Mmm, Mik,” Katy purrs, “you seeing what I’m seeing?” 
Katy tilts her head and Mikayla follows her gaze. Alina and Lu do the same and you dare to peek after them. There’s a table of men across the bar. There timbre forms a dulcet drone amid the din. 
“Sexy, look at that beard.” Alina slithers 
“Which one?” Lu giggles. 
You shift and look down at your glass. You wrap both your hands around it and squirm. They said it was just work drinks. You don’t want to be dealing with strangers. 
“Oh, honey, loosen up,” Alina grabs your starched collar and pops the top button. “You have another one of those and you’ll be dancing on the table.” 
“Um,” you lean away from her, “maybe. Erm, I need to go to the restroom.” 
“Boo, too early to break the seal,” Katy whines. 
“Sorry,” you apologise and stand. 
You take your glass with you and as you turn, you stop short as your eyes meet another pair. One of the men from the crowded table catches you in his gaze. You gulp and quickly lower your chin. You hurry on to the bar and set your empty glass on it. 
“Thanks,” you say. 
“Oh, thanks,” the man behind it swipes it away. “The waitress coulda grabbed that.” 
“Oh, now worries,” you show a palm and turn to find the restroom. 
You head down the hallway behind the bright blue sign. You dip into the ladies and claim a stall. As nice as it is to release the pressure, it’s even nicer to get a breather. You’re not the bar type. Not a drinker or a dancer, as much as Alina keeps suggesting it. You’re a total square. Thirty years old and you’ve never done anything more fun than laser tag. 
You wash your hands and leave the bathroom reluctantly. The music seems louder as you come out, the voices too. As you enter the barroom, you slow down. You’re mortified to find Alina and Katy in the open space, dancing. Grinding against each other. 
You stand there, frozen and embarrassed. The other women at the table cheer them on lewdly. You don’t know what to do. Sitting with Lu and Mikayla would draw as much attention as joining the dancing. This doesn’t seem like the place for that. 
Maybe it’s time for you to go. You’re feeling a bit cloudy and your eyes are fuzzy. You’ve been up since five in the morning. 
You slowly cross the space but have to dodge as Alina spins out and nearly crashes into you. In an effort to avoid her, you hit the side of a table, bouncing off of it and staggering until you fall onto something soft. Thank gosh you managed to find a seat in your descent. 
“Mmph,” the grunt greets you with the firm cushion beneath you, “y’alright, doll?” 
You look over in horror at the man who’s lap you sit upon. How embarrassing!! You look around at the other men at the table as it dawns on you. This is the worst crash landing you can imagine. 
You gasp and peer back at the man who serves as your chair. He’s terrifyingly handsome. His eyes are so blue and his jaw is chiseled beneath his dark beard. His brown hair curtains down around his cheekbones and his cheek dimples in amusement. 
“I’m so sorry,” you wriggle against him as he spreads his large hand across your back. “I tripped. I didn’t man to—oh gosh.” 
You touch your scalding forehead and try to shimmy out of his lap. It’s useless as you can’t get much of a stronghold. You just manage to ground your butt down on him. 
“You okay there?” He runs his fingertips up your spine and sends a shiver through you. 
“I’m--- sorry!” You gulp out again. “Please, I’m--” you grab the corner of the table and manage to haul yourself up. “I’m so...” you shake your head and bluster. You’re burning in humiliation. You can feel the other men watching you. “Ugh.” 
You turn and scurry around Alina and Katy. You quickly gather up your purse and coat as the women at the table laugh. “Oh, honey, why don’t you give him a nice ride,” Lu teases. 
You blanch at her and makes a face, “I didn’t mean to--” 
“Oh, chill,” Mikayla chides. “Really, it was funny. Where are you going?” 
“Home,” you exclaim. “Stop laughing at me. You’ve been laughing at me all night.” 
Lu scoffs, “well, you’re a bit silly, aren’t you? Act like you’ve never touched a man or a drink before.” 
You frown and flutter your lashes against the singe of hot tears. This is why you always say no. Why you are always ‘busy’. You don’t fit in. You’re better off alone. 
You hug your coat and bag and hurry across the bar. You push through the door and stagger out into the night with a sniffle. Oh joy, work is going to be even worse. Now they’re going to sit around and cackle at you instead of Wendy and her tacky dresses. 
You look around, searching for your bearings. You need to find a cab and get out of here. You see once coming down the pavement. You shift your things into one arm and throw your other up. The taxi steers towards the sidewalk but picks up another pedestrian further down. 
You huff and crane in search of another escape. 
“Hey, doll,” a rocky voice calls over the hinges of the bar door. “Where’re you off to?” You continue to peer down the street, frightened as you feel a gentle nudge on your elbow, “hey, talking to you. You didn’t even give me a name after you sat right on me.” 
You flinch and reel away from him, “huh? What? Oh, I’m sorry. That was just... clumsy.” 
“Ah, it’s fine. Really. It was funny,” he assures you. “I’m not making fun of you. Just, a pretty girl falls right in my lap then runs away, I kinda gotta wonder...” 
“Umph?” You furrow your brow, “you’re making fun of me too.” 
“Why would I do that?” He tilts his head. “Come back inside. Let me by you a drink.” You shake your head and wave your hand past him at another yellow cab. He chuckles softly, “you don’t gotta be shy.” 
“I don’t know you,” you insist. 
“I’m tryna fix that,” he counters. 
“Really, I just wanna go home,” you whine as the taxi drives by without stop. 
“Right, let’s do that,” he turns and throws his hand up. He whistles and wiggles his fingers. A cab rolls right up to him. “Let’s go.” 
He opens the back door and stands back. You stare at it. 
“Thanks,” you sigh in relief. You get in, ducking through the door, greeting the driver with a polite, “hello.” 
Yet the door doesn’t close. Instead, you’re urged further inside by the man as he sits on the seat next to you. You slide over as he pulls the door shut behind him. 
“Tell him where we’re going, doll,” he commands. 
You look at him, then the driver. You’re too stunned to think. What is he doing? You give your address and curl your shoulders as you shrink down. 
“Now,” the man stretches his arm across the seat, “we got the whole ride to get to know each other,” he offers his other hand, “I’m Bucky, I hear I make a pretty comfy seat.” 
You can’t help half a smile. You reach and shake his hand. You suppose he did help you out and he doesn’t seem angry about your unceremonious fall. You give him your name. 
“Thanks,” you say again. 
“Thanks? Oh doll, what kinda fool wouldn’t help a girl like you?” 
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